& I believed them. & they were right, but not in the ways I expected them to be right.
This post isn’t about any specific city or any specific country or any specific port-I’ve been on the ship since Brazil-but it is about one of my favorite places in the world-The MV Explorer and everything it has done for me.
Ship life is a really confusing topic for a lot of people. I say I don’t have internet, and the world takes one giant collective gasp, but then realizes I have email so I must be lying. I tell people that classes are hard, and everyone rolls their eyes in unison. I confess that I have a hard time sleeping if my bed isn’t rocking, and there seems to be a general idea that I’m kidding. But hey, I don’t blame you; this whole “I’m traveling the world on a giant ship” thing is a little bit unconventional. Let me tell you, it’s not all rainbows and butterflies on board this big blue boat. There are a million obstacles aboard MV, and none of them are like any challenge I’ve ever faced at home.
Classes, though wildly entertaining and extraordinarily informational, are also really, really hard. University of Virginia doesn’t mess around when they put their name on my transcripts for Semester at Sea, that’s for sure. If the material itself isn’t giving me a giant migraine, then the work that I’m doing for the class surely is. At home, you can go to the library, be surrounded by strangers, and have 0 desire to strike up a conversation with the guy two tables away. Here, there’s actually nowhere to go if you want some peace and quiet and concentration. You’re constantly surrounded by your best friends. The furthest you can possibly get from a single person is still a 2.5 minute walk. (Seriously, I once walked from the front of the bottom of the ship, to the back of the top in less than 3 minutes.) Plus, who really wants to study when they could be lying outside, reading a book and tanning? At home, these distractions wouldn’t be detrimental, as long as I used to weekend to catch up. (Plus, it doesn’t sound like “tanning” would be too appealing back in Chicago.) Except in this mystical world of Semester at Sea, there are no weekends. Every day that you spend on the ship, you have class. That could mean you have class Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and then reach land on Monday and have a few days off, but how many people do you know who would want to spend half their precious time in Brazil doing homework? Zero, zip, zilch. Plus, who really wants to be typing up graphs to illustrate the supply and demand of Switzerland’s car market when they could be on wikitravel.com, frantically trying to decide how to spend the few short days they have in Barcelona? Zero, zip, zilch, nada. Don’t get me wrong, this is definitely not meant to be complaining, merely an explanation of the struggles that we face. My friend, Rose, had three 10 page papers to write this past week. So, for everyone who thought this was a booze-cruise, I beg to differ.
Speaking of booze cruise, let’s take a moment to discuss the food and drink options on the ship. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH. See how I said “options”? Oh my, I’m funny. There aren’t any options, really. I mean, I can’t blame anyone for that, how exactly do you expect to feed 650 people for under $5 per day, per head. (Yes, that’s the real number. $5 per day, per person, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner combined.) So every day, the menu is as follows: Salad, which is iceberg lettuce, sprinkled with a few dead bugs now and then, mushy tomatoes, then various toppings, most often onions, beets, cucumbers, and corn, if we’re lucky. Then some sort of dressing, usually the same dressing, but given a different name. Oh MV, you’re so clever!! Then comes the real food! Pasta, always in front, followed by rice (on a good day), then some sort of white fish. No one really knows what kind of fish it is, because all the types taste the same, even though they are given different names every few days- which I’ve noticed is a common trick in the kitchen. After the fish, you’ll run into some sort of mystery meat, usually pork or chicken. I steer clear because, well, it scares me. Then you’ll find some steamed veggies, and then some grilled veggies. At the end of the line, you’ll find some soup. Again, mad props for creativity, kitchen staff, because you have the cleverest ways to name the same soup 6 times! Then, at every meal (Until they started rationing, when it exited breakfast, never to return) there’s the classic peanut butter and jelly. Since the pb&j is everyone’s favorite staple, whenever the ingredients change ever so slightly, the ship goes into a mass uproar. For example, we ran out of peanut butter after Germany and had to get new peanut butter in Belgium, and basically that’s all you heard about for the next week. How many different words can be used to describe peanut butter? Infinite. Then, there’s the jelly, which comes in 3 forms: Extra chunky, extra smooth, and nuclear pink. The latter is the most recent type to grace our plates, and it actually looks like a highlighter exploded. The amount of ways we’ve come up to explain the unusual coloring is actually impressive, but tada! There’s dinner! They do what they can, so I definitely can’t complain about the staff here, but I don’t think there’s any food in the world that I could eat for 50 days and not grow to hate. On really low days, I go up to deck 7, where you can buy things like hamburgers, grilled cheeses, cookies, and ice cream. I recently got my bill for the 14 day Atlantic crossing, and have been forced to swear off my desire for deck 7 food and learn to love the usual dinner again. As for booze, I’ve had exactly 3 glasses of wine on the ship. One glass was free, and the other’s cost $4 a piece, plus, you’re limited to only 2 glasses per night at dinner, then they start “pub night” on deck seven around 9, where you’re allowed to buy two more glasses. But, if you decide to spend $16 on a single night you should probably realize that the first 2 drinks (wine or beer) have to be consumed between 5:30 and 7:30, and you can’t have any more until 9 or 10. So your chances of getting totally smashed are slim to none. AKA the worst booze cruise someone could ever pay for.
Another thing: I miss Google. Yeah, Facebook is cool, and Pinterest provides hours of entertainment, BUT DAMNIT, I JUST WANT TO REMEMBER WHO WON THE SUPERBOWL LAST YEAR. My knowledge is now limited to Wikipedia searches and emails from my mom. Also, please imagine how difficult it is to filibuster 10 page papers when Wiikipedia only has 2 pages of information? The struggle, I tell you. Plus, I’m a planner. I want to know what I’m doing for Spring Break, I want to know what the yoga schedule is, and I want to know how the Blackhawks are doing! I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING, ALL THE TIME.
But that’s pretty much it for my grievances aboard my floating campus, and each one has a silver lining. I don’t have weekends, sure, but I do have 14 new countries under my belt. The food sucks, sure, but at least I’m eating! And this shitty free food is always here waiting for me when I’m in a country and realize I’m significantly too poor to buy lunch, like my own little savior. Not having Google to answer all of my ridiculously trivial questions sucks, yes, but you’d be amazed at how many Wikitravel pages have some pretty cool information.
Moving on, MV is also home to a massive amount of rainbows and butterflies. In fact, I’m crying now just thinking about leaving cabin 4122. I’ve learned so many incredible things aboard this ship, and 1 million things that I never expected to learn. Kelsey and I have been compiling a little list of things we’ve learned so far:
If you sit in the door to our cabin and keep it propped open, the wifi pours in like an aura and you can finally get emails delivered to your bed! Bonus points if you can convince someone to come and visit your room, and then somehow con them into standing the doorway. Now both you AND your roommate can sit in bed and surf Wikipedia, while your visitor does all the work!
It’s a lot more fun to play Blackjack with sour skittles, M&Ms, and Starbursts. It’s even more fun when you win and get to eat them all. You will eventually make up your own rules, it will get too intense, and you will be repeatedly “shushed” by your peers.
“Study Days” are not meant to be used to study, they’re meant to be used for Sea Olympics and Neptune Day.
Sea Olympics were yesterday, which was basically a ship wide spirit contest, complete with synchronized swimming competitions and lip synch routines. We didn’t win, but I painted my face and laughed so hard at the synchro event that my cheeks are permanently stuck laughing.
Neptune Day happened over the 14 days, when we crossed the equator and finally became “true sailors”! Almost the entire community had a giant party on deck 7, where the faculty dressed up, the crew walked around chanting and dancing, and we got fish guts (Or Kool Aid) poured on us and kissed a fish. Basically, we went through a form of hazing, like little pledges trying to join the fraternity of sailors. (This is entirely a joke. This was in no way like hazing, and all events were voluntary. Please don’t call ISE and try to convince them that this ship is like a giant frat house.)
It is possible to wake up for your 9:25 class at 9:23, and still make it to class early.
If you run on the treadmill during rough seas, prepare to be laughed at, because you look stupid.
Ship rumors are hilarious, and almost never true. To verify this, a friend and I decided to tell people that Daniel Choy, the executive dean of students, got “drunk tanked.” (AKA he was deemed “too drunk” when he returned to the ship and was placed in the observation room.) We thought the rumor was so ridiculous that we even laughed while we told it, and then decided that it was never going to gain speed, so we stopped after telling only 3 people. A few days later I passed a table at lunch and realized that they were in deep conversation about how on earth administration could get drunk tanked, to which one person said “I guess they just have to be held to the same standards.” HAHAHAHAH. POOR DANIEL. PEOPLE ACTUALLY BELIEVED US.
Facebook is actually annoying. There’s too much to look at, and too many people think that what they had for breakfast should interest the entire world. Whenever we get wifi, everyone checks their Facebook, spends 4 minutes scrolling, and then gets bored.
It is possible to have a conversation with someone, without them checking their phones every 2.5 seconds. You’ll feel like you’ve stepped into a mythical world. Is this what Narnia is like?
If you live with 650 people, chances are there will be a few you don’t like, but unfortunately, you can’t throw them off the ship, so you just have to learn to work with them. All jokes aside, this experience has taught me how to deal with people. Working in retail, I thought I knew. But you really get to know people when you see them 4 minutes after they wake up until 4 minutes before they fall asleep.
Your professors are actually extraordinarily helpful when you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Turns out they were our age once, too. Who would’ve thought?!
If you don’t have at least one bruise from running into walls while the ship was rocking, then you probably didn’t leave your room at all the day before. This is both impressive and frightening. Get out of your room. The bruises will be worth it. Plus, the everyone looks really funny trying to walk while the ship rocks. For a ship with limited alcohol, people look awfully hammered at 9am.
Just because you turn off the lights and roll over, does not mean you and your roommate will stop talking. In fact, you’ll talk for several hours about absolutely nothing and, more often than not, you’ll end up spending the whole night talking about your past, your future, your insecurities, your plans, your family and friends, and everything in between. Your roommate will come to know you almost better than you know yourself, and you’ll soon come to be in sync, which makes life a lot easier because then you can watch “Friends” together, rather than having to wear headphones.
“Friends” is a gift from God- Chandler and Racheal in particular. You’ll become convinced that Netflix will explode when they release the series. You’ll also come to assign your friends a character from the show. (You’ll also later spend hours discussing what breed of dog people would be.)
Do not attempt to look through the peephole while the ship is rocking. You will go sprawling towards the door at incomprehensible speed and smash your nose into it. It will hurt and you will be embarrassed.
If you meet someone who lives on deck 2 and they ask you to come by their room, you must understand that “deck 2” is code for “I live in Guam, and you will get lost no matter how often you visit.” You will quickly inform them that your room is much, much better, and then you’ll never have to go there again! Problem solved!
Someday, you will reach the point that you start to believe that going from deck 4 to deck 6 is simply too far, and will only ever travel to deck 5 all day.
“What’re you doing tonight?” means “Do you want to watch Friends, go to an event in the Union, or go to sleep before 7pm?” It is also almost always the sentence that proceeds “Do you want to go to the snack bar?” The answer will almost always be “yes.”
It is, in fact, possible to sleep for 17 hours.
There are 3 general crew members who work the snack bar. If Paul is working, hang your head in shame while you approach because he once sold you a full thing of nutter butters, pringles, and water and you don’t remember it at all. But he also made you an origami frog, so he’s pretty much the coolest. He’ll come to remind you of your grandpa, but after every purchase, he’ll ask “is that all? No Pringles?” and then start laughing at his own little joke. Very funny, Paul. Then there’s Rod. Who is, in fact, my favorite. He knows my name, first and last, and gives me an extra cookie here and there. How knows my love of Butterfingers, and when they run out, he’s quick to suggest a Kit Kat because he’s well aware that Kit Kats are an easy second.
Our mail client, SeaMail, has an infinite number of ways to say “We’re in the middle of the ocean, so you need to lower your expectations and accept that you have absolutely no contact with the outside world.” I’m amazed every time I see a new error message. So many creative ways to deny me communication!
This voyage is way too short to spend it with people who make you feel terrible about yourself. You only have 108 days on this crazy adventure, so don’t waste it. Hang out with people who spend every day reminding you that this experience is incredible, rather than people who spend their days telling you that you’re stupid. Just because they were your first friends, doesn’t mean you should just grin and bear it. Not worth it, amigo.
If you buy a hot chocolate and don’t share with your friends, you’re going straight to hell. Sorry, but it’s true. Unless the machine is broken and you accidently buy the watery kind with the powder added. In that case, don’t give it to your friends. Don’t wish that kind of pain on anyone you love.
It is possible to do full loads of laundry in the sink, and then dry it in the shower. It will take multiple attempts to perfect this, and for the first month of the trip, your clothes will constantly smell damp, but eventually you’ll perfect this and be proud to say that you’ve only had real laundry done twice. Side effect: There will almost always be underwear hanging in your shower.
If you’re anything like me, you’ll quickly find out that you are allergic to everything and anything on the ship. Including the sheets and apparently something in the water we picked up from Brazil. You’ll grow to love Benadryl and you’ll look like you have a serious disease. You’ll be constantly itchy and in pain. Eventually, you’ll stop caring and put bandaids all over, which will provide a good subject for your friends’ jokes. Good times.
If you want something bad enough, you can have it. Semester at Sea had a sticker price that could’ve bought me a new car. But a new car wasn’t going to be a dream come true, and it probably wouldn’t drive me to Cuba. Either way, a year ago, I didn’t think there was any way I could have afforded Semester at Sea, or a new car, or even rent for the next month. But I applied for scholarships, worked 45 hours a week while taking classes to raise my GPA, and asked for help from anyone and everyone. Here I am, 117 days after leaving home. While I definitely had help from my family and friends, help which I will forever be grateful for, I’m also extraordinarily proud to be able to say that I did this. I set my mind to it, and worked annoyingly long hours, skipped Friday nights and beach days with friends, and here I am.
Which brings me to my last little point: a Giant Thank You. Nothing about this last section will be humorous, so if you feel like laughing, I suggest moving on and heading over to Buzzfeed. As I sit here, 18 days from coming home, I’m starting to realize what an incredible opportunity this was. And there’s no way I could’ve gotten here on my own.
First and foremost, a giant, overwhelming thank you to my mom, whose first response when I told her my plans was “Can I come?!” and not “That’s not realistic.” She was at the receiving end of a million crying phone calls, and even when I just needed to vent, she patiently sat at the other end of the line and waited until I had calmed down enough for her to remind me that I could do anything I wanted, if I wanted it badly enough. I’ve spent the last 80 or 90 days on a ship full of trust fund kids, who have vacation homes in 8 different places, and never once have I felt poorer or inferior to them, because they might have money and great parents or whatever, but I have Gwen Kille, so I win. My favorite professor once said, “We were all either born to parents who created opportunity for us, or to parents who gave us the tools to create and take advantage of opportunities we made for ourselves.” My mom has done everything in her power to hand me opportunity on a silver platter when she can, but what I appreciate immensely more is the way she gave me the tools to create my own opportunities. She’s been in my corner when no one else was, but she’s also the first to tell me when I’m being stupid. It’s because of her that every time I add something to my bucket list, I get excited because I know that it’s possible. When I was young, she told me that I could grow up to be anything I wanted, and I’m finally starting to believe her, but mostly, I want to grow up to be someone like her. To the ether and back, Momma.
Then, mountains of thank yous to my grandparents, who not only helped fund all the exciting things that I’ve spent the last 4 months doing, they’ve also proved to be the best pen pals a girl could ask for. Grandpa, your emails are often the highlight of my week, and your advice never fails me. I’m so incredibly blessed to have been adopted into your family, and I can’t thank you enough for treating me like one of your own.
A Lake Michigan of thank yous to my Uncle George and Aunt Jen, who grabbed my wrist and asserted that I never, ever give up on my dream of Semester at Sea. When it seemed like I had no option other than to give up, a phone call to you changed my mind. Your help and encouragement is what made this experience a reality. Thank you so, so much.
Hordes upon hordes of thank yous to my Aunt Cindy, you gave me the resources to put my deposit down, which made the whole thing real for the first time. You’ve always been in my corner; giving me support when others couldn’t. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for all of your support.
The rest of my friends and family, you either helped out monetarily or just listened to me cry, I owe you all a giant hug. And I owe so many people a huge thank you for making it so hard to leave Chicago. Bryce, who has always been my Number 1 (even when your body was possessed by the devil), was the first to donate to my laundry fund. Missin’ that kiddo an awful lot. Sarah, who made it the hardest to leave home, was always a calming presence as I freaked out. Always the first to make me dinner after work and uncork a bottle of wine, she never once told me not to go. Linda and Alison, who remind me constantly why I joined my sorority, gave me constant encouragement before I left, and have proved to be the most reliable email contacts I could imagine. Evelyn, who was the first one to hand me a drink and tell me to relax a little after my 45 hour weeks, has always been my most adventurous companion. After a few glasses of wine, I told her I’d be going to Guatemala next summer, and instead of laughing at me, she quickly informed me that she’d be joining. Here we are a few weeks later, with both of us officially applying to study in Central America. Thank you for always saying “yes”, and always being the first to give me a pep talk, complete with a sincere “I’d marry you if I were a boy!!”
I have the most supportive and amazing family and friends, and if it weren’t for them, there’s no way I’d be sitting here, in cabin 4122 somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, crying because I’m just so incredibly lucky to be having this experience. I’ve learned so, so much from this trip. I’ve learned while on and off the ship, from my professors and from locals in foreign countries, but none of it will compare to what I’ve learned about myself and the opportunities I have been given.
Oh, and thanks to everyone who reads this. Most of it is just for me, so that I can try to remember as much of this adventure as possible, but knowing that there are a few people out there who read through my ramblings is pretty cool, too.
Adriana.kille.fa14@semesteratsea.org
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