I will start this entry with this warning; I have never been out to sea for more than an afternoon. Never cruised or sailed beyond the bay in Clearwater, Florida (and even that was only once, a very long time ago). I was totally unprepared for the crossing of the Atlantic. Unprepared for the constant motion of the sea, unprepared for the seasickness, unprepared for the beauty, unprepared for the insecurity, unprepared for the sheer magnitude of the experience. There are no words to describe how you feel when you look out in any direction and see water, water as far as the eye can see. You feel powerful and weak, but mostly you feel small. The sheer amount of water is almost overwhelming if you think about it too long. Yet, there is something magical and beautiful in feeling that small- like you could disappear into the water and essentially disappear into another world.
Life on the ship is a surreal experience. I wake in the morning to a pitch-black cabin. With no windows or lights on- you can’t see anything. I feel my way down the bunk ladder (I’m on the top bunk to break a fear of heights) and rustle myself over to the shower. Thirty minutes later, I’m up in the Dining room, wet hair and little makeup, eating breakfast before I have to report to work at the campus store. It’s strange to think how freeing it is to simply be liberated from blow-drying my hair every morning.
Work and classes are the same; you have to fight the rocking waves. The waves rock against the ship, seducing your mind into thinking one thing; it must be naptime. The gentle waves rock you back and forth, making sleeping on the ship easy- I have yet to have an issue falling asleep. The waves do, however, act as a sort of sedative during class. They make you feel like the most import thing you could be doing at any given moment is napping. My professor’s classes are very interesting, and yet I feel like I have eyelids that weigh 70 pounds each. During the day as you fight sleepiness; you also have to fight the waves walking around. I’ve been told our seas have been uncharacteristically calm, but even still, walking around can be hazardous. Students and faculty (the crew seem to be the only people immune) can be seen at any time, walking around looking slightly drunk. Like, not drunk enough to be wasted, but drunk enough to be feeling warm and fuzzy. We must look like a ship full of drunken people.
Some students are here to be a serious student. You can tell who they are after talking to them a few minutes. Majors, home institutions and course loads can tell you lots about a person. But even the not so serious students who are along for the ride and opportunity to get drunk in every port are nice. The community, all in all, is friendly and accommodating.
On a somewhat house keeping note, you will not see pictures accompanying my post while I am blogging at sea (I will try to post pictures in port). I have super limited internet access and loading pictures is impossible.
I hope you all are doing great. I miss you all more than I can articulate, but know you are all in my heart.
Also- should you feel inspired to email me (which you should!) you may email me at mlharrell@semesteratsea.net
Until Morocco!
Mal
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
The Overwhelming Ocean
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Bon Voyage! (0 Days!)
Well... here we are.
Boarding the MV Explorer in a matter of hours.
It's been a long road here, full of the ups and downs that the passage of time generally holds. It has been a long journey, but it has also been a spectacular one. It's unnerving to know that this first chapter- the waiting , the stress, the endless planning- is coming to a close. The voyage is beginning. Stepping onto the ship is the first of many steps into a new life, a new understanding, and a new Mallory.
But mostly I can't believe it's real.
Seriously, someone should pinch me.
New York City and Montreal have felt unreal- more like a very vivid dream than my actual life. Both cities have been wonderful.
a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBTcPbWIuk1poEB7surrLdRZcG68ba-S27Dr3VaGM41cBPHnzqTMKTvkR_qCUMYVpHTQSIwwTy_B-ziUsH13bTwMcOydArK2EUElLbxagO0wCLmv0SpAcQpXL5Q6mYSa6tXxhMqY64e0RI/s1600/IMG_0563.JPG">
A friend of mine once sang "NYC, what is it about you? You're big, you're loud... I'm spinning" in my middle school production of Annie as he spun around in a desk chair during a rehersal. We laughed then, but it turns out that is not far from the truth. New York City was larger than life. The lights, the sounds, the smells, the people, all too much for my imagination to have created- but there they are. The city moved and ebbed and flowed in a way no place I have ever been to in my life has. I loved the city, and saying goodbye to NYC to board my train was more like saying 'see you soon' to an old friend. I feel like my life will lead me there again, and probably soon.
If New York City were to have a cleaner, smaller younger sister it would Montreal. The people move in similar ways, but the french speaking and distinctly Canadian relaxed vibe of the city makes it less stressed- more like a fancy Parisian lady who is running late, but stops to have a drink anyways.
Last night, my last night in Montreal, I hiked to the top of a mountain (I use the word mountain liberally... it is more like a large hill). Up at the top, the view of the city was beautiful, lights as far as the eye could see. It was one of those moments in life when the world seems to stretch out before your feet, just waiting for you to answer its beckoning call, and all you have to do is move your feet and be open to the universe of possibilities.
As I prepare to drag my super large suitcases down the flight of stairs to check out and then into a taxi, I would be remissed if I didnt take a moment to thank the people who have made this voyage a reality for me.
Thank you Mom for pushing me to continue to work hard even when all I wanted to do was sleep in. Your support has meant nothing short of the world to me, and as I head out into the world, know that I take you with me in spirit everywhere I go.
Thank you Mamaw for making this voyage a reality. Your help has assisted in so many ways- I could not be here without you.
Thank you to Matthew and Christine Quiat. Your kind words, guidance, and help has opened my mind to the wiser possibilities of the world (and inspired me to read Lord of the Rings again).
Thank you to my Dad, who has contributated to getting me in ways that have been a huge help.
Thank you to DR. Reed and Dr. Ammon of ASU. You guys have opened my mind to ideas I had never considered before.
Thank you to all my friends- there are simply too many of you wonderful people to list by name. I will miss you tons and can't wait to see you come Christmas. Start listening to Christmas music in October for me ;)
See you soon!
Boarding the MV Explorer in a matter of hours.
It's been a long road here, full of the ups and downs that the passage of time generally holds. It has been a long journey, but it has also been a spectacular one. It's unnerving to know that this first chapter- the waiting , the stress, the endless planning- is coming to a close. The voyage is beginning. Stepping onto the ship is the first of many steps into a new life, a new understanding, and a new Mallory.
But mostly I can't believe it's real.
Seriously, someone should pinch me.
New York City and Montreal have felt unreal- more like a very vivid dream than my actual life. Both cities have been wonderful.
a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBTcPbWIuk1poEB7surrLdRZcG68ba-S27Dr3VaGM41cBPHnzqTMKTvkR_qCUMYVpHTQSIwwTy_B-ziUsH13bTwMcOydArK2EUElLbxagO0wCLmv0SpAcQpXL5Q6mYSa6tXxhMqY64e0RI/s1600/IMG_0563.JPG">
A friend of mine once sang "NYC, what is it about you? You're big, you're loud... I'm spinning" in my middle school production of Annie as he spun around in a desk chair during a rehersal. We laughed then, but it turns out that is not far from the truth. New York City was larger than life. The lights, the sounds, the smells, the people, all too much for my imagination to have created- but there they are. The city moved and ebbed and flowed in a way no place I have ever been to in my life has. I loved the city, and saying goodbye to NYC to board my train was more like saying 'see you soon' to an old friend. I feel like my life will lead me there again, and probably soon.
If New York City were to have a cleaner, smaller younger sister it would Montreal. The people move in similar ways, but the french speaking and distinctly Canadian relaxed vibe of the city makes it less stressed- more like a fancy Parisian lady who is running late, but stops to have a drink anyways.
Last night, my last night in Montreal, I hiked to the top of a mountain (I use the word mountain liberally... it is more like a large hill). Up at the top, the view of the city was beautiful, lights as far as the eye could see. It was one of those moments in life when the world seems to stretch out before your feet, just waiting for you to answer its beckoning call, and all you have to do is move your feet and be open to the universe of possibilities.
As I prepare to drag my super large suitcases down the flight of stairs to check out and then into a taxi, I would be remissed if I didnt take a moment to thank the people who have made this voyage a reality for me.
Thank you Mom for pushing me to continue to work hard even when all I wanted to do was sleep in. Your support has meant nothing short of the world to me, and as I head out into the world, know that I take you with me in spirit everywhere I go.
Thank you Mamaw for making this voyage a reality. Your help has assisted in so many ways- I could not be here without you.
Thank you to Matthew and Christine Quiat. Your kind words, guidance, and help has opened my mind to the wiser possibilities of the world (and inspired me to read Lord of the Rings again).
Thank you to my Dad, who has contributated to getting me in ways that have been a huge help.
Thank you to DR. Reed and Dr. Ammon of ASU. You guys have opened my mind to ideas I had never considered before.
Thank you to all my friends- there are simply too many of you wonderful people to list by name. I will miss you tons and can't wait to see you come Christmas. Start listening to Christmas music in October for me ;)
See you soon!
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