Mahalo

Well, aloha. Hawai’i is in America. Who would’ve thought, right? A one day break from foreign countries towards the end of the voyage is a droll reminder of what awaits in less than two weeks at this point. I’ve always wanted to use the word droll. Plus one to the vocabulary. You’re welcome, future BA in English.

Like in Honolulu, we had cell reception, so a lot of people flocked straight to their phones and called and texted their entire contact list. If you sat in the Dining Room, it was loud, but not because people were talking to each other; rather, they were chatting on the phone with their mom, dad, boyfriend, girlfriend, or whatever person is patiently waiting for them back in Mainland America. It was interesting to see this side of people that we have avoided the entire voyage.

No visit to America would be complete without an experience in the corporate world, and for many SASers, that came in the form of Wal-Mart. My first stop, along with what seemed like at least half the ship, was the very symbol of corporate American greed and capitalism. The aisles were teeming with eager students looking for bargain basement prices, none of which even compared to what we experienced in many of the countries we had just been to. That giant $6 box of granola bars would’ve bought me an entire meal in Vietnam. I was also reminded of my age. Being that it was Thanksgiving, I wanted to celebrate with a bottle of champagne. Only problem: I’m 20. Instead of confidently walking up to the check out line like I have around the world, I had to ask someone who has already reached the mythical age of 21 to purchase the alcohol for me. It was an all-too-soon reminder that I’ve still got half a year to go to be of age in my own home country but in most other countries, I’m “mature” enough. That’s a discussion for another time, though.

The rest of the day was spent sightseeing around the Big Island with Lily, Christina, Mary, Ricky, and Lauren. We found a driver who took us from Wal-Mart to the lava fields, a small farmers market, a black sand beach, pools of hot springs, and a local pancake house with enormous American-sized portions, another pleasant reminder of Americanism. The whole day was a fantastic and relaxing Thanksgiving, a nice break from the mountains of papers and tests that seem to have piled up on the ship. I made a few calls as well, mostly to my family. That being said, it served to slowly reintroduce us to where we are headed. With only two weeks to go, I’m beginning to get nervous, anxious, and excited. While it may have sounded like I’ve had the time of my life,  and I really truly have, there have been bad parts to this experience. I’ve been homesick. I’ve been seasick. I’ve had cabin fever. I’ve experienced incredible inequality, injustice, poverty, and a whole host of other global maladies and problems. However, I’ve also seen beauty. I’ve fallen in love with traveling. I’ve fallen in love with the world. I’m not one for mixed feelings, but I’m so happy and sad as I write this. Happy to be sad, sad to be happy.

“Mahalo” is Hawaiian for “thank you.” Since we were in Hilo, Hawai’i on Thanksgiving, it’s only appropriate I say thank you. This journey around the world has been a dream come true—111 days of floating along the ocean and exploring new lands does not happen to anybody. Yes, we’ve dreamed and floated, but we’ve lived, experienced, breathed, wished, hoped, prayed, examined and reexamined, and had incredibly enriching moments around every other corner. None of this would’ve been possible without the help of many people in my life. I’m here for a number of reasons beyond just my own hard work and desire to travel the world.

I am grateful beyond measure to the following:

           

• The Institute for Shipboard Education, Semester at Sea, and the University of Virginia for presenting the opportunity to experience an incredible paradigm shift and alter my perspective on many aspects of the world and my own life. The execution of the program proved better than the idea.
• Colorado College for allowing me to be the first CC student in a number of years to participate in the program for credit. Had my petition for credit been denied, I wouldn’t be sitting here today watching the orange sunset over the endless Pacific Ocean.
• Heather Browne in the study abroad office at CC for aiding me through the entire             application and petition processes and cheering me on from day one.
• Re Evitt, Peggy Berg, Jane Hillberry, and Andrew Manley, my department chairs and advisors for providing recommendations, signing forms, approving classes, and helping me find a purpose for doing SAS beyond the obvious desire to travel.
• All my roommates from this past year for dealing with me at some of my most                         insufferable moments and for providing never ending support.
• My dear friends from home, Cheley, CC, and everywhere in between, for the             encouragement, love, e-mails, and more.
• My sister Anna, for being a source of inspiration and advice since she sailed on the Spring 2008 Voyage.
• My mother and father, for giving me the world.

Well, aren’t I just an emotional wasteland? In all seriousness, I’ve had the greatest adventure I probably will ever have, and all of it was made possible with help from other people. Mahalo, y’all!

The adventure doesn’t stop here. Two ports to go and a million and one things left to do on the ship—we’re in the homestretch, folks, and while I’m still alive and in the moment, I can’t wait to be on solid ground in colorful Colorado.

I just wish I could skip finals. The Block Plan never seemed like a better idea until now. Semester system, go crawl in a hole.