So, this whole study abroad experience began as a joke, as many big ideas in life do. My roommate and I talked about it, wondered, laughed, and thought...well...why not? What if? Maybe we can...
She did much of the research. I was still intent on dreaming, considering my future with the words "Study Abroad" under my belt. And then we applied with curious expectations.
Those weeks were some of the longest weeks I can recall. We...well I, logged on to the Semester at Sea website multiple times a day, and it became this obsession, this bad habit of crossing my fingers and sending a prayer up and waitingwaitingwaiting. If this trip didn't work out, how would my summer shape up, and where would studying abroad fit in my future? It was becoming a dream that I wasn't going to let go, that I needed somehow to make happen. And finally, my prayers were answered, my crossed fingers provided me with raw luck.
Through January, February, March, and April I filled out paperwork, renewed my passport, got shots for diseases like Malaria and Yellow Fever and Influenza. I sent in forms, applied for a really hefty sounding loan, and contacted the financial aid advisors at U. of Virginia. I recieved a nice grant, and chose my classes aboard the ship, and picked out what field studies I plan on doing while we're in the countries.
When I first applied for SAS, commitment and paperwork never really crossed my mind. And you're probably thinking, "How did it not cross your mind?" When I applied, I was already a million miles away, sipping my lemonade with the umbrella sticking quaintly out of the sweating glass. I was already leaned over the bow of the ship watching the dolphins swoop and dive in front of me. I was already unpacked and taking classes and exploring countries that I'd never given any thought to before. When I applied, I just applied. And then I found out what a broad term "applied" really was.
It always felt so far away, though. Something that I was immensely looking forward to, but would never really be a reality. My roommate and I made signs to hang on our bathroom door, happily counting down the months until we would officially be "on a boat!". When we moved out of our dorm room last week, we took down the "2 Months!" sign and realized that we only have another month to wait. Another month of being grounded, living the lives that we would have normally been living under any other circumstances.
Last night was the first time that it actually hit me. It was around midnight, and I was sleepy, and my mind went whirling. It was weird not having my roommate to talk to, but all of a sudden, it was irrevocably, painstakingly real. I lay in bed thinking to myself...I'm doing this. I'm doing this!
I'm no longer counting down months, but weeks. I've been keeping up with other students who have just gotten back from the Spring 2009 voyage a few weeks ago, and learning about their experiences, their "coming home" days...I cannot possibly fathom what this trip will do, who this trip will make me, when I return. What does seeing the world do to a person? It cultures them...it changes them...it makes them aware, and alert, and passionate about something, everything.
And I am so, so ready to be that person. I'm so ready.
“Tourists don’t know where they’ve been, travelers don’t know where they’re going.” - Paul Theroux
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