They call this a Ship, Not a Boat.

My "semester" at Sea is now 2 weeks in & I'm already swept away with the intensity of the experience, people, all the lessons to be learned and the impending imprint this will leave on my life. Despite my stream-of-consciousness below, I am grateful and thankful to be offered this journey AGAIN!

If only to be honest with myself, I must admit that I was a bit hesitant to re-board the MV Explorer for a second time. By 'hesitant', I really mean 'thoughtful', 'aware', and 'considerate'. My experience last summer was unbelievably memorable &.... intense...Almost too intense for me to ever want to replicate it. The people, the memories, the emotions and the life-lessons all culminated into a thrilling but emotionally draining summer. In other words, I loved it!! and it was exactly as it should have been. But, somewhere in me, I was almost convinced that SAS memories should simply remain memories and I should move on with my life.

All that said, I was hyper-aware that my expectations would be high (and therefore I could easily be let down), several key people would not be traveling with me this time (thus I would be left open to the possibility of not finding similarly important friendships), there would be very little actual pay involved again (but the experience is priceless) and since I was partly hired to be the 'experienced' one, I could easily fail on knowing all-things-medical onboard. All of  this meant that the newness & wonderment of 'the first time' wouldn't be there. And, admittedly so, after all the thrills and travel my life has seen in the last ten years, this exact wonderment might be what I would subconsciously need.

Another aspect of my hesitancy was not knowing how I'd react or what I would think or how I would work- on a full ship, a contained space!- with almost 1,500 people in my face (or that was my fear of how it would feel). Not to mention, be in a position where 'everyone knows my name' (think Cheers), which would mean there would be so little anonymity. These points felt extremely emphasized after spending a year so remotely, so intensely ... so solo! Looking back, I learned deep, hard, wonderful lessons of what it meant to be in this world on my own; Was I crazy to immediately jump from one extreme to the other?

Ultimately, all this meant that agreeing to this voyage was a bit of a personal gamble.

Yet, somewhere amongst all my over-analytical thoughts, I couldn't let myself pass up the opportunity. In my weathered journal from last year, there lives a list ( I heart lists). I refer to this list often to keep myself on track. Soon after I was offered the position again by Dr. Chris Tonozzi, I opened my journal and there lie my answer. 'To do a Full Semester voyage with Semester at Sea'. So here I am: albeit sooner than I ever thought, but nonetheless excited and so glad I listened to my journal and not my head.

Only 17 Days into the trip and with it means 17 new things  ...

Dr. Milt

1. The community onboard is already tightly forming and the ship is now the 'home' I look to. As Dr. Milt Waldron eloquently taught me: "Even if you never left the ship & there were never any countries to visit, this would STILL be the best experience of your life."
2. ALREADY (really?) I have formed some real connections with a some interesting people....mostly students, which is quite satisfying because it means there is a strong possibility of mentoring during the voyage which deeply thrills me.
3. I'm learning to play poker (Texas Hold 'Em style)! (My ultimate goal is to combine this with drinking scotch on the rocks...just to remain classy, of course.)
4. I've already made a complete ass of myself by acting as a terrible rapper and an uncoordinated flamenco dancer in front of the entire shipboard community. The goal was to portray a 'fun' Medical Team; somehow-luckily, we've persuaded the majority! (i think)
5. I'm pretty much convinced that having my own cabin on this voyage (unlike the last) is all I needed for my mental health.
6. I'm adjusted better than I ever thought I'd be. There definitely have been moments -- moments where I have hidden in my cabin for hours at a time dreaming of Mississippi ... i.e. my bed, my dog, the garden, my family, not traveling. The first of these moments was the first time I realized how little room I gave myself for the situational change from remote Australia to jam-pack ship. I now am much kinder to myself and learned I needed to leave room to hibernate in the beginning. But I am OK. And happy.
7. I got to spend 1.5 weeks sailing the Atlantic with Dr. Milt Waldron, the MD I worked with last summer. In some strange, unforeseen way, he is like my grandfather. And, since I never really had one, I love the relationship.
8. I've been in 3 countries in 2 weeks.
9. When I landed in Spain, it meant I had completed my 7th crossing of the ocean in the last 1.5 years! (boat & plane, Atlantic & Pacific)
10. I've now spent 17 days of my life living with Archbishop Desmond Tutu. crazy. 
11. Classes are some of the greatest joys of my day: Childbirth & Fetal Abnormalities, Drawing, Global Studies & now I'm also considering adding Travel Writing.
12. I'm really excited that I'm here! Despite the drowsy, sea-sick, long voyage across, I've hit my stride and feel happy and comfortable in this role.
13. My old passport is retired and my new one is officially open for business.
14. Potatoes and pasta at every meal = eating Vegetarian on SAS = +++ kcals!
15. Some of the people who surround me daily: 20 year vet of Secret Service, a multiple-times recipient of Fulbright Fellowships, multiple Peace Corp volunteers, a whole family from Madrid, a guy knighted by the King of Spain, an expert on Cantonese Opera, a guy who quit his job/sold everything he had in Tokyo and is now traveling for a year around the world, a spine surgeon, a mother-daughter team, professional actresses/actors....and that is just a few! I'm so inspired and impressed.
16. Do I really need my bed made everyday by the cabin stewards?
17. I have yet even more reason to love my short hair: Life is so much easier when you live on a windy boat!

Tutu Welcomes Students Fall 2010 from Stephanie Holcombe on Vimeo.
 

Semester At Sea: Really? What's it all about?

Alas...TIME is not what I've had this week, so postings have almost come to a halt. This was not the intention, but unfortunately the outcome of a sea-sick, un-routinized, drowsy week sailing across the Atlantic. Life is coming together in many forms, though, & soon there will be reports of it all. In the meantime, watch this wonderfully produced video by our Production Team to understand more "what Semester at Sea is all about".

Having a great time in Espana! ...

Traveling with Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story

Traveling with Pomegranates

by Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Kidd Taylor

(Thanks, Jill!)

Together, best-selling author Sue Monk Kidd (The Secret Life of Bees) and her daughter Ann Kidd Taylor recount their journeys to Greece and France as they navigate through life's phases: one entering adulthood, the other entering menopause. Both wrote alternating chapters in this memoir, which was a nice way to read about the experiences because "there is always two sides to every coin"...not to mention, this is how I envision Elizabeth & I writing our book.

A recurring theme is the myth of Demeter and her daughter Persephone, in which Persephone is abducted to the underworld (eats pomegranate seeds) and eventually reunites with her mother. As the real-life mother and daughter visit archaeological sites from that story and others, each relic and icon they visit becomes infused with personal meaning. For example, the Virgin Mary comes to symbolize hope for the mother. She prays to a black Mary icon in a church in Crete for encouragement to write fiction and after The Secret Life of Bees was published, she returned to the same Mary and offered a pot of honey as an offering.

The book lacked much plot and focused more on heavy introspection as they both were navigating the waters of growing closer in their relationship as adults. Also, the two writing styles were starkly different; Ann Kidd Taylor's being much more easier to read for me.

Probably wouldn't recommend it! (sorry, Jill! :)

Maybe it is a feminine thing, I don't know -- but whenever I've managed to find new consciousness and renewals of my work, my relationships and myself, it has been by going down into what seemed like a holy dark. p. 77

I sit on the stone ledge as depression floods in. I try to hold myself there, to not jump up and take more pictures, to not run away. I remember when I was around nine, playing rodeo in the ocean waves with my brother, straddling a raft, and how a large wave unexpectedly knocked me off and shoved me under. Before I could surface, another wave pushed me down, then another. But this is not a game. This is my life. The darkness tunneling back and back. p. 82

Journeying is the predominant means of developing one's self in this culture, not the habitation of place. It has been true of me. Always the seeker. Yet at this phase of my life, when I look at my house at the edge of the marsh, I want to learn how to be in it. I want to behave like a finder as much as a seeker. The irony is that I had to go on an elaborate journey to figure this out. So much of my growing older seems to be about paradoxes. The reconciliation of opposites. The bringing to balance. p. 121

She has been the keeper of home for me, and I have been the keeper of the journey for her. And now we look for the lost portion in each other. p. 123

The old woman I shall become will be quite different from the woman I am now. Another I is beginning. p. 143

You must learn one thing.

The world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds

except the one to which you belong.

-David Whyte

Elizabeth's Lexington

I actually made it myself. Pretty chuffed. Here is the recipe. Super good & pretty easy, considering it's homemade bread.

I'm sitting here waiting for my big trip to begin. I'm fortunate in that I am waiting at my sister's really super cool house smack-dab in the middle of a horse farm in Lexington, KY. Literally I am sitting in the middle of a field, horses all around. Friendly horses that eat my apples. There is a tiny one, a baby mini-horse so very tiny indeed, named Peaches. Apparently this is referring to his 'peach' fuzz as his mane, but actually I've determined its more readily referring to his hirsutism signs on his face! gross.

Including the plethora of horse farms and whisky, I seem to be very fond of Kentucky. It's a nice place to be as I wait.

I'm leaving on Monday for literally a semester at sea with .... wait for it....Semester at Sea. Creative geniuses.
I will again be the Nurse on board this voyage, which will circumnavigate the globe East to West. Pretty cool experience, to say the least. We dock in 14 countries & little 'ole me can receive mail. (No subtle hints necessary)

My Side of the Mountain

                                     My Side of the Mountain (A Newberry Honor Book)

Jean Craighead George

Thanks, Brent!

I have a special love for children's books. In fact, I have a story brewing in my head to write my own. I love their message; I love their simplicity. Neither of these were not present in the beautiful story of My Side of the Mountain.

My friend, Brent, and I were in a conversation one day about books. I love to get the "Top" recommendations from people -- "Instead of your Top 10, tell me you're Top Top Top book. That's the one I want to read." In this conversation, it turned to our favorite children's books. I got overly excited telling him all about my favorite book as a child. It was about a squirrel who made a house for herself high, high up in a tree...and how she collected food to store...and fought off ants who climbed up...and...and....The pictures were beautiful and it was my most favorite book in the whole world. I probably read it 1,000 times as a child. It still stands as such a vivid memory for me.

In response, Brent offers me this title as his favorite, citing: "If you love me, you'll love this book." And in the end, I still love Brent and I did love this book. It was nice to have a break to read something a bit easier and with such a warm, positive story. It would be perfect for anyone age 10 and up to read.

The story is about a small boy, unhappy with his overcrowded life in New York City, who decides to take up residency in the woods. He goes with only the bare necessities--a penknife, a ball of cord, some flint and steel, and the clothes on his back -- and escapes to the Catskill Mountains. There, reliant only upon himself and the abundant resources of nature,  he survives and lives a life amongst the animals and trees.

Not only is the story enticing in many secret ways, but I learned so many practical new ideas about ways to use what nature readily supplies. For example, he journaled on white birch bark. I didn't know you could write on any bark, but you can. And, how to make a willow whistle. Even illustrations throughout! He taught me many lessons, if not inspired me for a more self-sufficient life myself.

I would highly recommend this, especially if there is a 10-15 year old you know that needs to be inspired. 

Similar adult reads would be Into the Wild by Jack Krakauer and The Last American Man by Elizabeth Gilbert.

BAYSUL or BAAHSUL. You decide.

Pesto is one of those things that just makes sense to me. 

Call me cheap, Call me an opportunist ....

but, why?? would you spend $5 for a tiny jar of the stuff

at the grocery vs. making mountains of it at home w/ end-of-the-summer basil?

Even novice gardeners seem to be able to grow basil.

It's easy to buy early in the summer and grows 

pretty quickly w/ plenty of water and sunshine. Basil can easily become an herb staple. ...

At least it is when I'm around because I seem to easily get obsessive over caprese appetizers in the summer.

So...

With several very tall basil plants staring at me daily and audibly (no kidding.) begging to be saved from the scorching MS sun,

I did what any righteous Southern woman would do: I made perfect end-of-the-summer-Pesto.

(This happened despite the fact that I had absolutely no time. I was rushed and stressed and had not even packed yet...but I was fixated on pesto!)

And not just any pesto: This time I capitalized on our finest local nut: the pecan

and was quite happy w/ the outcome. 

Pesto is so so so so easy. (It is easy)

and no one should shy away from making it, freezing it and enjoying it on the cheap.

(Price it next time you're in the grocery and you'll see...)

Nor should you let all that precious basil go to seed.

4 simple ingredients:

Basil

Parmesan

Olive Oil

Pine Nuts (but I've also used almonds, pecans and walnuts, all w/ tasty results)

 

 

Voila'. You're done. 

I tend to not use a recipe, but some good ones I'd recommend are 

from 101 Cookbooks

or

Animal Vegetable Miracle (w/ or w/out the tomatoes). 

Once you've done it once, you'll see how easy it is to just throw the ingredients 

together and come out successful every time.

And, while we're speaking of basil, there are so many good recipes I'd recommend.

I cook w/ it profusely and love the aromatic nature it adds to the room when doing so. 

One of my staple summertime desserts, which may or may not sound like a weird combination. I usually 

mix whatever berries I have on hand. 

And this recipe I posted a few days ago. I think I've told everyone about it! so good.

Geography of Bliss: I want to now go to Iceland

Geography of Bliss

Eric Weiner

(Thanks, Jill)

I have to admit, this book came as a big disappointment to me. Hailing as a top recommendation by a good friend/ a good travelogue per a quick glance, I was very excited when it found its way into my hands via a second hand book shop in Darwin. I was convinced it was the best way to help me pass the time waiting on my plane to leave...and it was, for the fact that I focused on why I wasn't in love with the book.

While it was interesting and certainly covered several countries': The Netherlands, Switzerland, Bhutan, Qatar, Iceland, Moldova, Thailand, Great Britain, India, and America, varied cultures of collective happiness, in the end, I just couldn't get past the authors grumpy attitude. Interestingly, he is a self-confessed grump, someone who has struggled with negativity and pessimistic perfusions his whole life. Why then, I wondered, is he the leading expert on happiness?? oxymoron; fail.

I did learn, however, that the Dutch are happiest because of their tolerance (not that their legal drugs, prostitution and avid cycling don't hurt!); the Swiss are happiest because of their contentment; the Qataris are falsely happy due to the excessive-make-you-sick materialism that comprises all of their country; the Thais are happiest because they are laid back; the Icelanders have no right to be happy but overwhelmingly are...

"...And then there is Iceland: a country that has no right to be happy yet is. Iceland gets the balance right. A small country but a cosmopolatin one. Dark and light. Efficient and laid-back, American gumption married to European social responsibility. A perfect, happy arrangement. The glue that holds the entire enterprise together is culture. It makes all the difference." P. 406

Unsurprisingly, the author ultimately finds that people make the difference. As I like to say: "It's not where you are, it's who you're with."

"Of all the places I visited, of all the people I met, one keeps coming back to me again and again: Karma Ura, the Bhutanese scholar and cancer survivor. "There is no such thing as personal happiness," he told me. "Happiness is one hundred percent relational." At the time, I didn't take him literally. I thought he was exaggerating to make his point: that our relationships with other people are more important than we think.
But now I realize Karma meant exactly what he said. Our happiness is completely and utterly intertwined with other people: family and friends and neighbors and the woman you hardly notice who cleans your office. Happiness is not a noun or verb. It's a conjunction. Connective tissue." p. 408 

Another thing I learned was the recent phenomenon, in the scheme of human history, of our ability to choose where we live. Over the centuries, most people grew where they were planted. It took some catastrophe -- flood or famine or the marauding hordes of Mongols who moved in next door -- to prompt a relocation. With the exception of the very rich people, people didn't move for kicks. Adventure, in the good sense of the word, is a modern concept. For most of history, adventure was something inflicted upon you, not something you sought out and certainly not something you paid for. p. 394

This, of course, spoke directly to me: someone who has not lived longer than 2 years in any one place for the past 13 years. I move alot -- for alot of different reasons. There are ginormous positives to these decisions, but also ginormous negatives (that I'm only just recently seeing and truly understanding). This about sums up how I feel: ...

"It is home 'for now', she says, And that, I realize, is the problem with hedonistic floaters like [girl] and with many of us Americans and our perpetual pursuit of happiness. We may be fairly happy now, but there's always tomorrow and the prospect of a happier place, a happier life. So all options are left on the table. We never fully commit. That is, I think, a dangerous thing. We can't love a place, or a person, if we always have one foot out the door." p. 400

And that, my friends, is the truth I've learned the hard way. 'One foot out the door' has given me an incredible myriad of adventures, people, places and lessons, yet left me with no home. I struggle with this, wrestle with this and am motivated by this --- but am somehow, despite it all, still deeply and thoroughly happy. I guess in the end, I am who I am because of my backpack.