It was October of 1996, and I was sitting in what was to be one of my last
undergraduate English classes ever. I had busted my butt and I was
gonna graduate a semester early. I had been working pretty much full time
since I was a sophomore in college so I could afford both the expense of school
and the expense of being twenty something, so I was burnt out and tired
and glad that my BA would soon be behind me. But then I started thinking,
what would I do now? Where could I go now? Did I have any idea
what I wanted to be? The answer was a resounding no.
The only thing I did know was that I wanted to see the world.
I wanted to see things I had never seen before, but where to go.
I went to the Study Abroad Office and started researching countries I could
visit as a last semester hoorah and I looked into Argentina, and
I looked into Russia, and I looked into Japan and I looked into Kenya and
I looked and looked and looked and looked and I was more confused than
I had been when I came through the door. I left the office loaded down
with information and applications full of prerequisites and regulations
and thought, how could I ever decide? I went to my next class a Shakespeare
seminar with Doctor Fly, and as usual I drifted my eyes away from the
instructional blackboard and daydreamed of Prince Henry and Lady
Macbeth and what it might have been like to stand as the sun in her eastern
balcony horizon in the sixth grade production of Juliet when I had been casted
as the nurse instead and as my head turned to the side just before it's usual plop
to the desk for a mid afternoon nap, I looked to the wall and saw a flyer
I had seen a hundred times before. I snatch a postcard from its supply
and began reading the information. I filled it out right there in
class. Licked a stamp and placed it in the corner and sent it off.
A week later I had the packet in my hand that would change my life.
I spent the next week and half filling out forms and gathering letters of recommendation and bills of health. I had to move fast, it was first come first serve and frankly I wasn't sure if they'd have room for me. I stayed up most of that week and blew off writing assignments for my literary criticism class which I hated anyway for the chance to work on my entrance essay, which just barely fit on a page even with the smallest font, tiniest spacing and hardly a margin at all. I based it on the cultural differences regarding war in nations like Kenya and India in contrast to America, Japan and other financial world leaders. I found it interesting how some nations could be so much more concerned with what was good for the family and community and yet others with their political rights and material possessions. I wanted to learn more. I wanted to understand people, I wanted to look in the faces of children and see stories of who and what they knew and finally understand all those articles I read in National Geographic and Time Life Magazine.
About a week and half later I got my acceptance letter. I couldn't believe it I was going around the world. I couldn't wait to tell everyone, I was so excited, I felt like was floating on air all that had to be done now was procure the funds and get some vaccinations and I was on my way. How many vaccinations were there anyway, I thought. Turns out there about ten or twelve different kinds of diseases I’d be prone to get on this trip and I was happy to get each shot as it meant I could do more see more and get into a whole lot more trouble while I was gone.
I ran around campus telling every soul I saw "I'm going around the world!" I gathered and hustled up funds like nobody's business and finally the semester was done I packed up all my belongings and returned at last and for good from Buffalo, New York. I had a chance actually to meet a few of my fellow Buffalonians coming on the trip with me, but I was less than impressed by their attitudes at first. That was fine I figured. After all they weren't going to be the only people on the ship.
I went home and prepared for the trip, every time I left the house I came back with something “useful” for a world tour. I was going to the gym and shedding my college coat so that I would look great on the back deck or at least less like a lonely whale who had managed to climb onboard. I went to a little Bon Voyage party about a week before I left and there, I met Eric. I thought at first I might be in love, and we even made plans for a movie date and then he talked about how great it would be to take this trip with his long term girlfriend and terribly confused, irritated, and disappointed I returned home to finish my packing. Later that week I flew down to Florida to visit my Grandmother, she was to be my escort in the Bahamas and truth be told I think she was more excited than I. I was carted around to every social hub bub in Palm Beach: Harry's early bird special, Palm Beach Presbyterian, And the Sunday dinner party at the pastor's house. I told the story, now like a pro, rattling off countries like a preschool tongue twister: Bahamas, Venezuela, Brazil, South Africa, Kenya, India, Vietnam, the Philippines, Hong Kong, China, and Japan, and finally home to Seattle.
I remember one woman, she was in her eighties, and as I told her the countries she listened intently and oohed and aahhed until I came to Vietnam, when she squeezed my hand tightly and I looked at her to see a tear well up in her eye, she said, “my son died in vietnam, will you say a prayer for him when you're there? How fascinating to see that land. Are you scared?” Although I was a bit concerned about the entire journey, I assured her that I was not scared, that I was excited to see a part of god's great creation that I had never seen before, I told her I would surely pray for her son when we reach Vietnam and that perhaps her son could keep a close watch over us as we travel there. She nodded sure that he would.
Before I knew it I was in the Bahamas with my Grandma Chuddy(that's me on our hotel beach above), and we were running around the island like two little girls. We went on a boat tour, and we went gambling at the casinos. She did a lot better than me. Apparently I wasn't too good at the whole slot machine luck, so I talked her into to going to the aquarium. We tootled around the marketplaces and shopped and ate ice cream and basically had a great time. I could barely believe it when the time came to finally set sail.
Chuddy and I woke up early that morning, the bellhop gathered our things and we went to the front of the hotel to hail us a taxi. My stomach was in knots to say the least. My grandmother had gone on the ship the night before for a parents only reception, as I had gone out with some fellow travelers who were staying at my hotel, so she was going on and on about the size and beauty of the ship. Perhaps if she had stayed for three months she would realize her mild exaggerations but the excitement of the initial steps onto to the boat certainly guilded the view.
I found my cabin number and rushed to it praying it wouldn't be the smallest on the ship. It turned out to be quite big, two portholes, a couple of chairs, a desk three mini dressers, three narrow closets and a little bathroom. There was one single bed and one set of of bunk beds. I was the first in the room and wasted no time in claiming my space. In fact by the time the first of two roommates arrived I had made my bed and was ready to retire to the upper deck to meet my fellow smokers. I briefly introduced myself, announced that she and the other girl could fight over the top bunk, but that I was leaving now for a cigarette. Hey, it was the very hand guide the ship had given us that regulated "first come first serve" and who was I to challenge maritime law?
I stopped on my way up to the smoking deck to look at the picture wall. They had some hideous picture of me I think the extra passport photo which they swore was solely for emergency purposes should we loose our passport and need a new one. But they posted it. Me, white as a ghost, and bloated from Buffalo's allergy season. I was relatively irritated and then continued to look to see the other faces. I picked out my future friends and lovers, and noted who I thought I might hate and who I thought I might admire, and believe me every prediction I made was wrong. Finally I headed to the deck, and had a butt. I was happy to smoke. My grandmother didn't know I had picked up the habit so I was a tad irritable and tense. I lit my cigarette and stood on the port side of the ship with all the other students laughing and waving good-bye to parents and even crying a little bit as I watch them run along side the ship as we pulled out of the port finally, we thought some of them might even fall off the end of the dock into the water, it was an amazing thing, and as corny as it sounds, you really could feel the love and excitement in the air. Emotions were high strung and people were just looking around hoping to find a friendly face, a face they could recognize in some form as commraderie. We all ran around, from cabin to cabin, I introduced myself to James Chiello. I had seen his picture on the wall and thought, “Oh he WILL be mine!” and by dinnertime that night I had a small group of men with whom to eat my meals, that group would later change as would many of the social dynamics on the boat.
After dinner had died down and we were finally released from our stupid meetings about safety and rules and other common sense regulations, we all began to roam, from room to room, from deck to deck, exploring and twisting and turning,finally at about three in the morning I decided it might be time to turn in. So I went to bed and I laid there I watched the sea just a few feet below me from the porthole and suddenly the sky that had been cloudy all night long, cleared and a bright light shone across the sea. I couldn't imagine what it was, I had never seen a light so pale and brilliant at once. I tweaked my head and pressed my face against the cold circular Plexiglas and I saw shining back at me the moon. That was that light all along: the moon. I had to get a better look. I threw on a pair of pajama pants and raced out of my room with my already chewed key chain dangling from my mouth as I tried to simultaneously climb the waving stairs and tie my sneakers. As I reached the second and then third level of stairs I ran almost face first into Kevin.
Kevin and I were probably the only two people awake that night. He asked with beer on his breath “WHHHere are YHOU Gooohooing?” I stepped back a bit and with a sheepish grin on my face, as I had been caught the very first day in my pajamas by a very handsome man, I announced that I had been trying to go to sleep and I was kept awake by the moonlight and thought I might as well go take a peek at it. He grabbed my hand and said, “Mhe Tohoo” then as we ran toward higher and higher decks he let me know he had the perfect place to watch the moon and was trying to find someone to share it with when he ran into me. We climb up a narrow flight of stairs and stood on a landing just outside the main control room, he took my hand and with the other pointed into the distance at a brewing thunder storm.
The whole scene was right out of a foreboding Wordsworthian moment, we talked some and discovered that we knew a lot of the same people, turns out he's from Buffalo, and I hung out with all his friends from high school while I was in college. We talked about hangout spots and weird Buffalo people and laughed and held each other as we watched the storm crack the black sky with purple and green lightening which reflected off the distant rough seas with a resonating glow of mystery, and suddenly I was drawn to look at him. He held me close and I guess I had gotten used the smell of his breath like when you wake in the morning and you're used to your own stench, because he kissed me and I didn't mind. We stood there just kissing and embracing for a long time, and suddenly I remembered this is the first night, do I really want to get involved the first night, I mean what if tomorrow I meet a great guy and I'm stuck with this guy cause I got all caught up in this moment out of the romantic era literature I was forced to analyze in order to graduate and then what, its not like I could escape him. We're on a ship!
I backed up and with a deep regretful sigh said, “I should really go, its the first night.” He walked me back to my room and we exchanged one last kiss and I went to bed at last.
Venezuela the next leg
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