The title is very literal; we are, in fact, rolling on the St. Lawrence River. The MV Explorer is not very big, so when waves and swells occur, they certainly are felt. I can’t walk straight. Nobody can, really. It’s really, really funny because most people look like they are piss drunk as they are trying to navigate the hallways. The seas aren’t even that rough yet, apparently, so I’m sure it’ll be even funnier as we hit rough water. The ship also moves around a lot, so it’s hard to sit and stand straight without bending to one side. It’s kind of fun, actually. It feels like a game. I’m a little bummed the weather today is foggy and chilly, but that’s what we get for leaving from so far north. The sunset yesterday was breathtaking, so that makes up for it.
Upon completion of my last entry, I quickly packed the rest of my stuff away into my bags, met up with my parents, ate some lunch, left the hotel, hopped in a cab, and rode over to the Port of Montréal. While on our way, I finally saw it—I finally saw the ship I would be calling home for the semester. It was a moment of validation, but also one of unbridled excitement. My mom snapped a picture on the phone, my dad offered his final fatherly words of wisdom, and I just stared in childish glee. We unloaded the cab to find a lot of people and lines; it was a bit of a bureaucratic nightmare at first with nobody really knowing what was going on. Once we all figured it out and realized how to actually board the ship rather than stand around outside it, things did not calm down. The excitement and nerves were infectious; not a single person seemed like they weren’t at least a little bit glad to be there. What was really exciting was actually meeting some of the people I had been talking to on Facebook for months on end about out upcoming experience together. Some people were exactly how I pictured them, right down to how they spoke, their gait, and the sound of their voice. Others were entirely the opposite, but that made things interesting.
The actual boarding process was somewhat akin to boarding a plane: take off your shoes and jacket (Blink 182, anybody?), empty your pockets, remove your belt, take your laptop out, the only thing missing was an annoying TSA Agent with a Napoleon Complex. The security folk seemed very relaxed and friendly; they understood how annoying the process was and how much we just wanted to get on board and get settled. Once we cleared security, we walked the long and winding way down the gangplank and onto the actual ship. Cue goofy smile, much like the one I had when I got off the Tube at Westminster in London back in April. Only difference here—everyone had big goofy smiles, so I didn’t feel as dorky. The whole time I was walking with my not-so-new friend Nikki and chattering away about how damn excited we were. I so “not-so-new” because she was the first person I added as a friend on Facebook from the Fall 2011 Voyage of Semester at Sea group, so we’ve been talking since April about how excited we are for this, that, and the other thing. Man, we were some excited fools. How many times can I use the word “exciting” or some variant thereof throughout this entry? Answer: a lot. I’m not usually one for reusing words, but in this case, it’s appropriate and still fresh, despite potential overusage. Don’t like it? Find a less excited blogger. SORRY.
Upon completion of my last entry, I quickly packed the rest of my stuff away into my bags, met up with my parents, ate some lunch, left the hotel, hopped in a cab, and rode over to the Port of Montréal. While on our way, I finally saw it—I finally saw the ship I would be calling home for the semester. It was a moment of validation, but also one of unbridled excitement. My mom snapped a picture on the phone, my dad offered his final fatherly words of wisdom, and I just stared in childish glee. We unloaded the cab to find a lot of people and lines; it was a bit of a bureaucratic nightmare at first with nobody really knowing what was going on. Once we all figured it out and realized how to actually board the ship rather than stand around outside it, things did not calm down. The excitement and nerves were infectious; not a single person seemed like they weren’t at least a little bit glad to be there. What was really exciting was actually meeting some of the people I had been talking to on Facebook for months on end about out upcoming experience together. Some people were exactly how I pictured them, right down to how they spoke, their gait, and the sound of their voice. Others were entirely the opposite, but that made things interesting.
The actual boarding process was somewhat akin to boarding a plane: take off your shoes and jacket (Blink 182, anybody?), empty your pockets, remove your belt, take your laptop out, the only thing missing was an annoying TSA Agent with a Napoleon Complex. The security folk seemed very relaxed and friendly; they understood how annoying the process was and how much we just wanted to get on board and get settled. Once we cleared security, we walked the long and winding way down the gangplank and onto the actual ship. Cue goofy smile, much like the one I had when I got off the Tube at Westminster in London back in April. Only difference here—everyone had big goofy smiles, so I didn’t feel as dorky. The whole time I was walking with my not-so-new friend Nikki and chattering away about how damn excited we were. I so “not-so-new” because she was the first person I added as a friend on Facebook from the Fall 2011 Voyage of Semester at Sea group, so we’ve been talking since April about how excited we are for this, that, and the other thing. Man, we were some excited fools. How many times can I use the word “exciting” or some variant thereof throughout this entry? Answer: a lot. I’m not usually one for reusing words, but in this case, it’s appropriate and still fresh, despite potential overusage. Don’t like it? Find a less excited blogger. SORRY.
I found my room, #3071, after much searching. The ship feels like a maze, even though it’s small. It seems like there are dead ends everywhere. So far, it is the smallest room I have had in college. There’s two beds, a small desk for sitting with a mirror, a shelf, some closet space, two small chairs, a small table, another mirror, and a bathroom with a toilet and small shower and sink. Notice how often “small” appeared in that sentence. Space is limited, so I sort of feel like we are a tin of sardines all smudged together. It’s cool, though, ‘cause we’re a family! Well, not quite yet, but hopefully soon. After setting up my room and going to a few meetings, we were free for the evening, so I went with my new friends Nikki, Jimmy, and Farrah (and maybe others? I think? I can’t remember) into Montréal to find the VIP Bar Night that another student had set up at this Irish Pub. After an adventure on the metro and a few blocks of walking, we found it, walked upstairs, and began to meet all our fellow shipmates. The place was packed with excited (and somewhat inebriated, but that’s a different story) college students, all waiting for the moment of truth (or boarding and embarkation, whatever works) that was to come the next day. I was somewhat frantically searching for my friend Ali, a nice girl from Pace University who I had been talking to a lot since May. When I finally found her, BIGGEST HUG OF MY LIFE. Or one of. I’ve had a lot of big hugs in my time. Seriously, though, we were thrilled to see one another finally. It was awesome even to see the people who I hadn’t talked too much but had chatted with only a few times (or not at all) and to finally see them animated and not just a little square box on Facebook. These people are real, man, and not just random identities out there in cyberspace. As the night drew to a close, Nikki and I made our way back to the ship, walked around it for a bit to try and figure it out, and then promptly fell asleep.
Fast forward to the next morning. All us work study students woke up disgustingly early in order to help the rest of the students board. My specific duty was to walk around with my coworker and shipmate, Maria, and briefly interview people about what they did in order to prepare for this moment. It was a long, long day, but a happy one. Again, lots of hand shaking and hugging. A lot of people said it felt very similar to the first day of freshman year, but for me it was more intense since I started a semester a late with only 40 students. That being the case, I wasn’t exactly used to meeting several hundred people all at once. Learning names is going to be a challenge at first, I’m sure. Oh, and I met my roommate. He’s Kevin from Minnesota. He goes to Colorado School of Mines in Golden, Colorado, and is majoring in Physics. Don’t we sound just like two peas in a pod? We are just so similar! Sarcasm aside, he’s a nice guy. Great artist—he hung up some drawings he did and they are outrageous. Once everybody had boarded, we had a mandatory lifeboat drill. I’m seriously hoping this doesn’t turn into the Titanic, because that would be a lot of wasted money, among other woes, of course.
The time finally came at 5:00 P.M. Embarkation was upon us. Everyone stood around the edges of the ship and waved goodbye to all the parents. Pictures began to happen. When we finally set sail, cheers were abound. It was an incredible feeling, filled with every kind of emotion (even sadness!) coming from every direction. It was pretty indescribable, so I don’t think I’m even going to try and express how I was feeling. Maybe I will later. The rest of the evening was spent in a few meetings, getting to know people, and figuring out the ship.
The next day was orientation. Boring. Utterly boring. A lot of information that was pretty obvious (wash your hands, be prepared for the unexpected, don’t fall overboard), so I was quite happy when it was all over. I kept meeting more and more people throughout the day and evening. There are only 457 of us students, which is an incredibly small number for Semester at Sea. It usually averages somewhere around 600-650, with capacity being ~700. I’m not complaining; going to a small school has made me appreciate the community that is found through a tiny student body. A whopping 13% hail from the University of San Diego, 5% come from my neighbor to the north of University of Colorado at Boulder, and another 5% are from our sponsor school of University of Virginia. I’m the lone wolf of Colorado College, the lone wolf of the Block Plan, and I am okay with that. This is the first thing in my life that I have done absolutely, 100% alone, with not a single other person from my world at home or school joining me. It’s daunting, and a little unsettling, but very humbling. It’ll be better this way. I’ll be more independent this way. Some other statistics include: California, Colorado, and New York are the most represented states; 38% male, 62% female; and over 10% of every year in school, except for seniors at 9% (I think). We are a diverse and dynamic student body; every student I’ve met has been funny, gregarious, entertaining, and engaging. Can’t beat that!
As I sit here outside on the 7th Deck with water all around me (and some bros pumping iron at the little gym on the side and making me feel like lard of laziness), I can’t help but be grateful for the opportunity that has been bestowed upon me. I am extremely humbled and blessed by my parents and Colorado College for this unique experience, one that many, many people will never even come close to having. I’m already having the time of my life, and I can’t even imagine being back in America at this point. There isn’t a mountain in sight, which would usually freak me out, but the jagged peaks of the Rockies have been replaced by beautifully clear blue-green water, the very essence of life. I have my first class, World Theatre and Performance, in about two hours. I’m going to go find some new friends to pass the time. I probably will be reporting back again after our first port, Morocco, which is only six short days away. Until then, here’s to hopefully finding my sea legs!
Fast forward to the next morning. All us work study students woke up disgustingly early in order to help the rest of the students board. My specific duty was to walk around with my coworker and shipmate, Maria, and briefly interview people about what they did in order to prepare for this moment. It was a long, long day, but a happy one. Again, lots of hand shaking and hugging. A lot of people said it felt very similar to the first day of freshman year, but for me it was more intense since I started a semester a late with only 40 students. That being the case, I wasn’t exactly used to meeting several hundred people all at once. Learning names is going to be a challenge at first, I’m sure. Oh, and I met my roommate. He’s Kevin from Minnesota. He goes to Colorado School of Mines in Golden, Colorado, and is majoring in Physics. Don’t we sound just like two peas in a pod? We are just so similar! Sarcasm aside, he’s a nice guy. Great artist—he hung up some drawings he did and they are outrageous. Once everybody had boarded, we had a mandatory lifeboat drill. I’m seriously hoping this doesn’t turn into the Titanic, because that would be a lot of wasted money, among other woes, of course.
The time finally came at 5:00 P.M. Embarkation was upon us. Everyone stood around the edges of the ship and waved goodbye to all the parents. Pictures began to happen. When we finally set sail, cheers were abound. It was an incredible feeling, filled with every kind of emotion (even sadness!) coming from every direction. It was pretty indescribable, so I don’t think I’m even going to try and express how I was feeling. Maybe I will later. The rest of the evening was spent in a few meetings, getting to know people, and figuring out the ship.
The next day was orientation. Boring. Utterly boring. A lot of information that was pretty obvious (wash your hands, be prepared for the unexpected, don’t fall overboard), so I was quite happy when it was all over. I kept meeting more and more people throughout the day and evening. There are only 457 of us students, which is an incredibly small number for Semester at Sea. It usually averages somewhere around 600-650, with capacity being ~700. I’m not complaining; going to a small school has made me appreciate the community that is found through a tiny student body. A whopping 13% hail from the University of San Diego, 5% come from my neighbor to the north of University of Colorado at Boulder, and another 5% are from our sponsor school of University of Virginia. I’m the lone wolf of Colorado College, the lone wolf of the Block Plan, and I am okay with that. This is the first thing in my life that I have done absolutely, 100% alone, with not a single other person from my world at home or school joining me. It’s daunting, and a little unsettling, but very humbling. It’ll be better this way. I’ll be more independent this way. Some other statistics include: California, Colorado, and New York are the most represented states; 38% male, 62% female; and over 10% of every year in school, except for seniors at 9% (I think). We are a diverse and dynamic student body; every student I’ve met has been funny, gregarious, entertaining, and engaging. Can’t beat that!
As I sit here outside on the 7th Deck with water all around me (and some bros pumping iron at the little gym on the side and making me feel like lard of laziness), I can’t help but be grateful for the opportunity that has been bestowed upon me. I am extremely humbled and blessed by my parents and Colorado College for this unique experience, one that many, many people will never even come close to having. I’m already having the time of my life, and I can’t even imagine being back in America at this point. There isn’t a mountain in sight, which would usually freak me out, but the jagged peaks of the Rockies have been replaced by beautifully clear blue-green water, the very essence of life. I have my first class, World Theatre and Performance, in about two hours. I’m going to go find some new friends to pass the time. I probably will be reporting back again after our first port, Morocco, which is only six short days away. Until then, here’s to hopefully finding my sea legs!
