Keep on Keeping On.

UPDATES:

1. If it is not already obvious to you, I am struggling to keep up with the pace of this trip. I have already been to Spain, Morocco, and Ghana and I am still telling you stories from Spain! Yikes! The plan is for me to get to the point. So, I apologize if my stories are not as detailed in the future! I just HAVE TO get this stuff down! Mom wrote me an email the other night, “Please do catch us up with all your adventures on your blog.” In an effort to please not only my mother, but also friends and family I am going to put in some extra effort to share with you all my thoughts and experiences ASAP!
2. I hope that you enjoyed the photos posted earlier. I am afraid, though, it is not possible for me to post many more! I am only given so many minutes online – and uploading photos takes up too much time! (and if I run out I have to buy more minutes!) So, if I am in a port and get free Wi-Fi, I’ll be sure to upload as many photos as possible! But until then, you are stuck with just my words! Sorry!

So, onto my last few stories of Spain…

The Sights, Surprises, and Silliness of Sevilla

Oh, looking back on Sevilla now is quite funny to me. I was still so unfamiliar with what this semester was going to look like, who the people I was meeting really stood for, and what in the heck I was going to do while I was in Spain.

I somehow got a group together to go to Sevilla. Six of us – 3 girls (Lane, Laurel, and me) and 3 boys (David, Bryan – who went to Indian Springs, and Peter). It was the perfect number for us to be able to book our own room in a hostel. Yes, mom, I stayed overnight in a hostel. It had the best rating on hostelworld.com, so I felt pretty good about it! I figured out fast that this group was quite a hodge-podge! But we made it work – and it led to some interesting situations.

None of us woke up until 11:00am that next morning. We met for lunch here on the ship and then decided to hit the road! So, we walked to the bus station (a long WINDY walk that is) in Cadiz and bought round-trip tickets to Sevilla. Our bus didn’t leave until 3pm, so we scouted out an Internet café to help us waste some time. Finally 3 o’clock came and we piled onto the bus. (Reminds me of the first-year adventure to Washington DC with Ruthie, Margaret, Kaitlin, and Caroline on the GREYHOUND! Ha!) The bus ride was about an hour and a half of beautiful Mediterranean scenery – of course sprinkled with the occasional grouping of wind turbines. Lane and I sat toward the back, snoozing on and off the entire way. I attempted to journal, but sleeping is always too tempting.

We finally arrive around 5pm and hop in a taxi to get to our hostel. We are dropped off on this main street (not like the many NARROW streets that characterize the rest of the city) and are lost. In desperation I whip out some of my pathetic Spanish, and get the taxi driver to point us in the right direction. Turns out, the hostel was about a block away on the other side of the street. I guess my hostelworld.com expectations were too high – at least when it came to street appeal. We step inside the Samay Sevilla Hostel, greeted by our hippie front desk man, Kian. He was really nice. He helped us decide what to do around Seville and got all six of us in our own room. The inside of the hostel ended up being pretty nice. I felt like I had walked into Ikea. All the furniture was bright colored and simple. Felt clean and welcoming. So, we threw our stuff down in our room, freshened up a bit, and then started out on our adventure in Sevilla.

Kian mentioned that there was to be a bullfight that evening at 7pm. It was actually really lucky for us to be there when there was a bullfight because in September they only have three! My mom had somewhat prepared me for the blood and gore of this event, but I’m not sure that everyone else was ready for it.

Well, we started walking to the Plaza de toros de la Real Maestranza de Caballería de Sevilla (the bull’s place of doom). It was very hot outside, but the scenery took our minds off of any discomfort. Seville is BEAUTIFUL! As the artistic and cultural capital of Andalusia, everything is worth pausing to take in. My only problem with sitting back and enjoying every bit of this picture perfect place, was I felt that because I had somewhat organized this trip that I was responsible for its success. Looking back, I realize this unnecessary pressure on myself may have made me a little bit uptight, but as the trip went on I definitely loosened up. Our group dynamic was so interesting – because it never just worked! We were all so different! It was a fantastic way, though, to learn about each other and it made us all realize how short of a period we had known one another.

Back to the story though, we get tickets to the bullfight. We buy the cheapest ones for 11 euro – but we will be sitting in the blistering sun. No big deal. I brought SPF 50 sunscreen. We went to go grab some tapas and water before coming back to the plaza at 7. The boys, though, wanted to go to McDonald’s. The girls could not believe it. So we let them go and wandered the streets by ourselves until 7. Arriving at the plaza, Lane and I purchased fans because it really was ridiculously hot. We scurried up the stairs to our seats, and then adjusted to another location out of the sun! Having fans with us made it so much better! Not only did it help to cool us down, but we also felt to Spanish! Corny, yes - but really fun.

The ceremony began. The first matador made his way out into the plaza. After teasing the bull with pink capes, horses, and yelling – the red cape finally was brought out. Blood was already streaming down the bull thanks to the several stabs from previous rounds. Thank goodness the bull was black or the impact of the gushing blood would have been even worse! The first matador was an amateur and did not kill the bull with one final stab but had to make several attempts. Finally, the bull fell. Then, a team of horses came out with a chain dragging behind them. The chain was attached to the bleeding bull – and was then mercilessly dragged out of the rink. What a sight.

Believe it or not I was okay with all of this. I know that the meat is eaten, and that this is not about brutally killing an animal, but the art form – the tradition and history that it holds. Kian, the guy at the hostel, suggested for us to read Ernest Hemingway’s Death in the Afternoon in order to better understand the deeper meanings and beauty of the bullfight. Maybe I’ll get around to that one day. Caroline – you should add it to your reading list.

The bullfight was to continue five more rounds, each round with a more experienced matador. But, Lane was not comfortable. She was ready to go. So, Laurel, Lane, and I left the guys at the bullfight and decided to try and make a service at the Cathedral of Seville since it was a Sunday. Ends up that there was no service, so we just took plenty of photos. This Cathedral is gigantic! Its presence is simply astounding. There was a beautifully set restaurant across the way, so we checked out the menu, and decided that is where we wanted to return that night.

So, later on, after cleaning up and changing for the evening at the hostel, we went to eat dinner. The conversation sitting around the table can only be described by one word: immature. Two of the guys did not catch the hints to change the subject and pursued a topic that I would prefer not to discuss in one of the most beautifully set meals I had ever experienced. As Lane put it, we were eating dinner with 5th graders.

Regardless, it was beautiful. The food was good and we had a nice white wine with the meal. After dinner we walked through the warmly lit narrow streets of Seville – some of the most romantic places in the world are here in this city – I am sure of it. Even after experiencing Venice and Florence in the evening – Seville wins.

We ended up at a swanky, outdoor bar that was situated along the River Guadalquivir. Several Semester at Sea kids came in at once – somewhat embarrassing because every Spaniard there was staring at the site of American college students lining up at the bar. I took a back seat for a bit and just took in all that was around me. Then, I noticed that Peter had started talking to two guys. I went over to join the conversation. Turns out they were from Holland and on vacation for a few days. We ended up talking for a couple of hours about everything from American Politics to the importance of family and so much more! It was a great evening – some of the best conversation I have had on the entire trip. We were hoping to meet up with them the next day to walk around Seville a bit, but my phone wasn’t working. I received some messages from them, but I don’t think my phone was allowing me to send texts back. Disappointing, but at least we all enjoyed talking to the both of them that night.

The next day we went to the Cathedral again to walk through it. It is a gothic style cathedral – and the 3rd largest church in the world! Honestly is was pretty amazing. We climbed to the top of the tower and looked out over all of Sevilla. That afternoon we wandered around for a bit before catching the bus back to Cadiz.

The final day in Cadiz I met with my film documentary class to learn some tricks of how to go about filming in the countries. I absolutely love my professor for this class, Paul Wagner. He has actually received an Academy Award for one of his documentaries! The main thing I like about him as a teacher is that because he is not a professor at UVa, but just a resident of Charlottesville who does some stuff with the Media Studies department – he doesn’t talk to us like he is above us. Instead, he teaches what he knows and wants to help us love what he loves to do.

So, we were setting up the tri-pod to talk about how to deal with outdoor lighting and the exposure on our cameras. Well, we randomly see this Spanish man feeding cats in the park that we were in. Paul (he prefers Paul over Professor Wagner – it is difficult for me to get used to) decides that this is a chance to get a story on film. We approach the man and ask if we can film him. He sort of understands, so we start to film. He is giving cat food to three little kitties in the park. It was getting a little bit awkward standing around this man as a group, watching and filming his cats eating. So, I struck up a conversation with the man. He feeds these cats that live in the park everyday. He considers them his own – having given them names. He pointed to each cat and mumbled some name, we shared smiles and laughter at the fact that neither of us fully understanding one another.

Well, Paul got all of this on film. The next week in class he has made it into a short minute clip about students in a park befriending a man who was feeding his cats. It was just lovely seeing myself on the big screen speaking my superb Spanish (all of you who went to Nicaragua with me can laugh at this point).

All and all, Spain was simply fantastic. As I wrote in a paper for my US South class – Spain, for many of us, was an extension of the familiar. A part of the Western world – sharing many of the same ideas about life. It was nice to have Spain as the first port because it was a place that did not cause an immediate culture shock. All of that was about to change by simply sailing a short distance to Casablanca, Morocco.

I felt safe that final day walking around Cadiz by myself for several hours taking in the sights and sounds. I did a little shopping – bought myself some sandals and a hand-painted dish. I got lost in the maze of narrow streets, discovering small family owned shops and restaurants. Inevitably – siesta time arrived – the stores closed, the streets cleared and I pulled out the map to find my way out of the maze. I walked a great part of the city that afternoon – and it was nice (even as an ENFP) – to be alone by myself and think about all that is to come on this adventure.

I also was able to call home with a calling card for about 45 minute! It was so nice to hear Mom’s voice and to hear how everything was going. I hope to have the chance to do that in South Africa!

I now have finally finished my rambling about Spain. There are more stories embedded within my overview – but you will just have to ask me specific questions to get those stories out of me!

In case any of you do not know, I am able to access e-mail for FREE on this trip! So, shoot me an email if you want to know more! I’d also love to hear how you are doing. Rlg2d@virginia.edu.

Thoughts on a B Day.

Some changes in LAG that Semester at Sea has made possible.

1. I now where a sporty watch. I mean I wear this baby everywhere. I’m not sure what I would do without it.
2. I own Chacos. Caroline was the first to know of this phenomenon – I called her the day I made the purchase – it was a big deal.
3. I have not washed the “bangs” once. I miss all you lovely ladies at UVA who understand just how big of a change this is in me! Ha!
4. I have not jumped on the bandwagon to join every possible club. I decided to make this trip about discovering who I am and what God wants to do in my life – and not focus my time here on applying for something like Student Ambassadors where I would end up spending a lot of time planning and setting up for events.
5. I can now pack everything I would need for a four day trip (to the Sahara dessert might I add) in my small North Face backpack. Everything from jeans to tennis shoes strategically squished into the bag – makes for a smelly, sand-filled unpacking process in the cabin – but I have succeeded nonetheless.

Some changes that Semester at Sea has not been able to accomplish

1. I continue to find myself procrastinating. I have a list of reading that I need to get done. I have done more on this trip than normal, though, because the classes are so small that you have to know your stuff.
2. I am still directionally challenged. I either need a really good map or a really directionally talented friend. If one of these two things is not in the picture, I will be in deep mud. Sorry, Dad, I don’t think this will ever change.

Graceful.

The city of Cadiz was captivating that day. By night, it was mysterious, exciting, and full of surprises.

4 charter buses pack with students bumbled out to a neighborhood 30 minutes outside of Cadiz. We were all anticipating a night complete with tapas, cocktails, and a traditional Spanish flamenco show. Exiting the bus, we were greeted by waiters offering drinks and mingled with one another until directed to find a seat for the show.

The show was to take place in a small arena, I mean really small, that was a dusty bowl surrounded by a concrete wall painted a terracotta red. The music started on the speakers and these two women in black and white polka dot flamenco outfits emerged onto the “stage.” The dancing began with an addicting beat and layered skirts flowing. There was also a horse that showed off his own skills, very similar to the dressage I saw in Bedford last summer.

Finally, there was an amateur bloodless bullfight. A young boy, not a day over 15 ran out into the middle of the rink, red cape in hand. Then, emerged a baby bull – almost too young to have any anger toward the minor matador. Yet, it proved to be exciting as the little black bull succeeded in making contact with “Junior”. It was intense because we were all scared for this young boy when the bull would rush him. I wish you all could hear all the girls gasping in the crowd.

The entire show was funny, though, because it seemed as if it was a family business. It was definitely touristy. I started to think about the idea of flamenco dancing in total, and truly it is a tradition in Spain that exists for much of the purpose of tourism. The only thing I can think of in the US that is somewhat analogous to this is hula dancing in Hawaii.

After the show was over, we were directed to walk over to a banquet hall in order to relax, and enjoy some more flamenco dancing. Well, the trek consisted of walking about the length of a football field on a half-gravel, half-concrete terrain. Easy, right? Why the heck would I even write about the 250 or so steps I took in order to enter into a candle-lit room complete with tapas and Sangria? Well, let’s just say that Momma Gilbert did not include the name “Grace” as one of the four names she gave me – for a reason. I’m walking along with Lane, chatting about flamenco dancing and our travel plans for our adventure to Seville the next morning. I managed to trip. A little catch. No big deal. Well, at least I didn’t think so.

My thin little flip-flop was unable to protect the fate of my big toe. The skin was torn back, and blood was flowing. I wasn’t freaked out by it at all, just so stinkin upset! My first night in a foreign country and I already had an open wound – a target for germs and who knows what else!

The most insane part included how the adults handled it. As soon as I realized I had to clean this situation up, I looked around for an adult who would know where a first aid kit. Well, the first professor in sight came over to help and when I told him I had cut my toe open – he interpreted that to mean I had broken my toe and began explaining to me how to splint it. I tried explaining that it was just cut, but the communication just wasn’t working out. Lane and I went to the ladies room and started to wash it out when these little Spanish ladies brought us some rubbing alcohol and bandages. After pouring about half a bottle of alcohol on the cut and spraying some “On-the-go NEO” everything was okay. I rejoined the group for the rest of the evening.

It was hilarious to me that when I returned to the ship a few days later, people were trying to figure out what bad things happened in the country. No one had any extreme situations – except evidentially someone broke her toe. Wow.

The flamenco show in the banquet hall gave us time to really take in the culture and tradition that is found in the dancing. Lane and I realized that so much of the intrigue of flamenco dancing was the attitude – full of pride, arrogance, and mystery. At the end of the show the dancers tried to teach us some moves. After about ten minutes they gave up on our American hips and played that Macarena. Perfect.

Afterward we went out to experience the famous Spanish nightlife. We went to the strip along the beaches in Cadiz. It was funny because you could pick out the Semester at Sea kids so easily. Somehow we all ended up in this night club dancing and having a lot of fun. Before it got too late we hopped in a taxi with Gio and made it back to the ship to snuggle up in our beds for the night. The plan was to leave for Seville the next morning around 9am. Yea right.

BUCKLE UP.

Well, hello there! Please join me in a delightful game commonly referred to as “Catch Up.” No, not the tomato sauce that you commonly squeeze onto french fries, hamburgers and hot dogs (others seem to also enjoy the flavor on rather strange foods like scrambled eggs or black-eyed peas and even the occasional serving of green beans), but instead a sort of relay – a relay that will take several days for me to complete. This game involves concentration, imagination, and endurance. Think you can handle it?

Ultimately, I am the one being tested here. It is my job to transport you from the place you are currently occupying (whether it be a comfy chair in Alderman café or your kitchen table) to incredible places like Cadiz and Sevilla in Spain and Casablanca, Marrakech, and Zagora in Morocco – all through the little buttons I am pressing on my keyboard. I have been training for weeks now, and hope that I can live up to the challenge.

You must first know that I have an overwhelming amount of information, stories and photos to share with you. If I was stupid enough to attempt to write it all in one single blog entry, I think that each one of you would need to somehow obtain Ritalin (no matter what shady method you have in mind) in order to stay alive reading it all. So that no one has to do that, I am going to take it one or two days at a time.

Approximately 11 days ago, the MV Explorer pulled into Cadiz, Spain. We had been sailing across the great Atlantic Ocean for a full week.




(Above photos from the “Mix-Up Dance” here on board)

Ship life felt like summer camp. Everyday we were going to class, but at night we were hanging around the snack bar upstairs, people were playing card games in the Garden Café, the piano bar was chalk full of socializing. Every one was settling down, still shaking hands and meeting new people. Still skeptical about the people we were planning trips with. Still wondering what the heck we were doing on this boat in the middle of the ocean!

So, when the sun streamed into my room on that Saturday morning, I was almost confused by the sight before me. There was a gleaming orange light reflecting off the Spanish architecture in the distance. The world we had just pulled up to was waking up with me, and my excitement could not be contained. Excited, yes indeed, but there was also this overwhelming feeling that what I was seeing outside was unreal, a little fairy-tale land, a Truman Show set, and all 520 students on board were on hidden camera. Being on the ocean for so long made the sight of land and civilization seem so magical.

With this rush of emotion, I pretty much jumped out of my cozy little twin bed, threw on my favorite nubby UVa sweatshirt, snatched up my camera and scurried up to the 7th deck to capture some shots of our Spanish surroundings.



After pretending to be a pro at this photography thing (which I am FAR FROM), I loaded up a plate of fruit, yogurt, and scrambled eggs (no ketchup) to fuel up for the first day back on land after our Atlantic passage. The day was to include a “Churches of Cadiz” tour with Professor Vaughan, who teaches my US South class, and later that night an evening of Flamenco Dancing. Swallowing my last bite of breakfast, I took a deep breath of the fresh air before trampling back down to the 4th deck to shower and get ready for the day.

I was concerned about my attire since, after all, the tour was titled “Churches of Cadiz,” and I vividly remember the epic high school adventure to Italy with Mrs. Booty, and having to sport a skirt to step foot inside some of the Cathedrals. I opted for a dress that was comfortable, light weight, and the closest I thought I could ever possible come to looking European (darn this easily identifiable American face!).

Well, lets just say the Spaniards are a big group of fantastic, easygoing people who really don’t see the need for the silly tourist stepping inside the building to wear anything in particular. I was stuck in the dress. At least I still felt cute. Until the 20 mph winds in Cadiz that day decided to plays games with me. I think the goal of the game was to see how many times Leigh Anne’s dress could fly up in the most inappropriate moments. Lovely.

Back to me in my cabin preparing for the day. So, I’m dressed. Got my Euros, cameras, hand-sanitizer and SAS student ID card in stow. It’s about 9:30 and I need to head down to the dock to meet the bus. I cannot believe after those six days scrounging around this cruise ship that we had finally made it. I was in SPAIN for crying out loud! Europe! Beauty! Mystery! Romance! I swipe my card as I leave the gangway, and cautiously walk down the steep metal stairs (in my flowing dress). We have made it to port numero uno!



Originally, I definitely did not plan to go on this tour, but because my professor was leading it, I thought that I could count it toward my class assignment. (We have to participate in three FDPs or Field Practicum – educational trips – for each of our classes). I was looking forward to it, though, because my roommate, Lane, was attending too. Side note – Lane and I as roommates has caused our room to be dubbed the “Southern Belle” room being that she is from Mississippi and I from Sweet Home Alabama. It has been so easy living with her!

I join up with the group loading the bus for the tour. Everyone has cleaned up nicely – and by the looks on their faces, thrilled about having finally arrived in Europe. I find an empty seat on the bus, delighted that I know so many people going on this trip. There is Caroline from South Carolina who has a voice that sounds exactly like Miley Cyrus, Gio and Steven – two great friends from San Diego, Peter who I met the first few nights of the trip, and several others. Before even pulling out of the port we took some snapshots together – capturing the beginning of a great adventure in Spain.




An overview of the tour: a lot of standing, a lot of churches, and a lot of Catholic art. The tour began driving around the city of Cadiz. It is quite charming. There were some great views of the coast, so we stopped the bus to take some photos.




I’ll give you a bit more information about the tour… I don’t believe the above description was sufficient. The first church that we visited was beautiful. The large doors were swung open wide because there was to be a church held there that afternoon. Our tour guide told us that so many women in Cadiz want to be wed in the big cathedrals so they will book a date 3 years in advance when they are dating someone pretty seriously. When that special day rolls around, in most cases the girl is no longer dating the poor first guy, and is set to marry someone else! The church we were standing in was not extravagantly decorated for the occasion, yet being inside I could sense the excitement for the upcoming ceremony.

Dragging out feet on the cobblestone streets, we visited the final church. I was fascinated by the way each church buildings was a part of the planned city – not set apart as its own immense structure. We would take a sudden turn through some doors on a narrow street, and I would find myself inside a magnificent place of worship. By the end of the tour, though, we were all exhausted and ready for some food! On the ship lunch starts at 11:30, so when the tour was finished at 1:30 our stomachs were growling.

We weaved in and out between the scurry of people walking up and down the narrow streets. Finally, the streets opened up to a square complete with a flower market in the middle. The colors, sounds, and smells of Spanish tapas overcame each and every one of us.



There was a quaint restaurant right off the square, where we sat outside to enjoy our first meal. We ordered some sangria and paella – two things that were absolutely necessary. Steven ordered a fish plate – and when it came to the table it was basically whole fish deep fried – eyeballs included! Ah! Well, Caroline and I were splitting a paella which took longer to prepare, so we both tried the head of a deep fried sardine. Wow.


That afternoon we leisurely strolled through the streets of Cadiz. It was bizarre, though, to discover the reality of the SIESTA. Everything stops. Stores close, markets shut down, the streets clear out. So, we just took in the scenery.


After our afternoon of wandering we went back to the ship to clean up for Flamenco Night. Details to come soon.

Morocco - I'm already so behind! No time to THINK!

I am supposed to be making my way up to the Union to collect my passport and get on the road to Marrakesh! There is so much to talk about Spain, and will probably be even more to tell about Morocco.

On this camel trek to the Sahara I think we spend a total of 24 hours on a bus! So, I'll compose some thoughts then! More to come soon!

And if you need a really good laugh this week just picture me traveling out to the Sahara - everything in my little backpack for 4 days of travel - and mainly PICTURE ME TRYING TO GET UP ON THE CAMEL IN THE DESERT!!!!!

This should be interesting. I'll be posting some photos SOON!!!

A NEW POST.

I must begin with an apology for falling off the face of the Earth over the last several days.


YES. I am okay. I survived the fall, suffered a few minor injuries, but I am fully recovered and have returned to inform you about everyday life aboard the MV Explorer. (Hope the illustration helped you to understand what occurred during my absence from the blog-o-sphere)


Have you ever thought about what is would be like to live on a cruise ship? If you have taken a vacation in the deep blue sea on board a rather large, impressive vessel, think back to the delicious meals, extravagant entertainment, and a life without a care as to what the time might be (unless you wanted to make it to the napkin folding class at 2:30) Keep those eyes closed and continue imagining here with me – feel the warm breeze, taste that sweet pina colada, smell the salt in the air.

Now. Get rid of that entertainment staff in your mind, make that meal taste sort-of bland, and set your watch to military time. Throw in 520 college students, academic classes, and a library. Listen to the “Noon Announcements” that highlight the new schedule change, the mandatory pre-port lecture at 2000 hours, and give a friendly reminder to set your clock forward an hour yet again! Imagine the piano bar as a quiet study sanctuary and the disco lounge as a lecture hall. Wake up at 8:20 to make sure you can get breakfast before they stop serving at 8:30 and don’t forget to grab your textbooks on the way out the door.

Come back after class in the afternoon and take a look at the glowing sight gleaming into your confined room. Contemplate the arguments and facts shared in Global Studies lecture just hours earlier. The ocean is in danger. The water splashing by outside the cabin window is in trouble. 90% of the large predatory fish are gone, and only 5% of coral reefs are in their original pristine condition. And somewhere spiraling out in the Pacific Ocean is a gyre of plastic waste larger that the landmass of the United States of America.

Turn away from the rushing waves outside your window. The rapid rise and fall of the horizon line reminds you how lucky you are not to have felt any seasickness while crossing the Atlantic Ocean. Glance at the collage of photos on the magnetized wall – homemade magnets that evoke a bit of homesickness as you stare at grandparents, sisters, parents, cousins, and friends. There beside images of those held closest to your heart hangs a map of the vast world that we call home. This is what you are here for: the WORLD.

Open your eyes. Even though I am currently living on a cruise ship like I wanted you to imagine – this is no “cruise.”

This is a VOYAGE.

A voyage of discovery. Discovering the world. Discovering one’s self.

Here in this intimate community of Semester at Sea students, professors, and life-long learners, we are thriving. Together we are not only giddy and excited about seeing the world and its people, but we are also thrilled to discover how we can personally contribute to the creation of a better future for the 6.8 billion people around the world.


Though no pina colada rests in my grip as I soak in the sun rays on the top deck, I sit here knowing that any cruise I go on after this adventure will never measure up. This cruising experience is not to escape the worries of the world for rest and relaxation. It is a place, instead, to surround yourself with the overwhelming realities of the world, and to seek personal growth and inspiration.

10 countries. 109 days.
8 days down. 101 days coming my way fast.
I’m buckling up - this adventure calls for it!

__________________________

OH! ONE MORE THING!

If you are reading this, I am currently in CADIZ, SPAIN!
We will be pulling into port here in the next several hours! (Wow, I need to go to sleep!)
Goodnight :)

I’m sailing on a Ship that’s bound for JOY!

And they are OFF! Rockin’ and Rollin’ across the Atlantic Ocean is the name of the game for the 520 students aboard this 100th voyage of Semester at Sea!!

These last 2 days have been filled with hand shaking (don’t worry Mom, I’m using hand sanitizer several times a day), name exchanging (and forgetting), bag unpacking , and meeting attending. I have managed to arrange the contents of my two large duffels in every crevice of the room.

The greatest surprise of the first two days was finding out that my roommate is a girl from Mississippi that I met the night before at the Westin! I’m so excited because we get along great! It’s funny how even just being from the south helps the two of us immediately understand one another!

Yesterday was THE day long, informational meetings. Here’s the deal. We talked about everything from why it is important to NOT rest your hand in the door jam (amputated thumb = NO BUENO) to why you should not leave your laptop on the deck (ship turns sharply, the pool becomes a tsunami, stuff is ruined). Very informational. I struggled to keep the big blue eyes open. But I managed and made it through the day.

Last night there was a fair of different activities that you can join around the ship. I signed up to be adopted by a life-long-learner (a.k.a. an old person who will spoil you by hopefully taking you out to dinner one night), yoga (along with the other 519 students on board… holy moly), religious/spirituality group, students of service, and student ambassadors. This leads me to a question. Why the heck am I ALWAYS sucked in by “involvement opportunities?” So, I am not necessarily in these groups, I’ll just receive e-mails. Maybe my goal should be to CHILL OUT. Which I think I will soon enough.

Today CLASS BEGINS. Daunting. Intimidating. Rocking. Rolling. I’m excited! I have documentary film in less than an hour, and U.S. South following right after.

Last thing before I go. CHECK OUT THE SAS BLOG!!! Mom and I are featured! Well, at least our photo! The only shot up on the blog so far (unless they have updated it.) Mom is rockin’ the SAS sweatshirt! I just think this is HILARIOUS because I know Mom likes being “behind the camera”!!! Check it out!