Day Two

Day two on our way to Cadiz, Spain, and consequently the first day of class.

Warfare in the Modern Era is going to kick my academic butt. The professor is a genuinely intelligent person (he explained that he reads 2-3 books a week to keep up in his field), and I can tell he will definitely challenge his students (i.e. ME).

The class is very discussion-based, and I feel intimidated considering that I had nothing but football and basketball coaches “teach” me history throughout high school (and I was not self-motivated enough at the time to learn it myself), so I feel like I have a pretty shoddy foundation on which to build.

But an uncanny amount of the time when things are hard, they also end up being very good for my being. So onward I shall go.

Global Studies was a little underwhelming today. But I’m sure it will pick up as the semester rolls on.

The over arching theme that was chosen for our 100th voyage is “Globalization and the Post-American/Flat World”. A fascinating topic indeed. The Global Studies course is very routed in examining the effects of globalization on societies around the world, and why it would actually matter that we talki to Depak from Bangalore when we call the 1-800-help-line. But more on that later.

I’m still meeting lots of new faces. It seems impossible to think we’re ever going to get past the “Where are you from/what are you studying phase?” but that’s basically the drill when your living with 520 new friends.

And a few fun factoids about the demographics of our ship…We have at least one student from every state in the U.S. and represent over 10 different countries. The biggest concentrations of students are from University of San Diego (lots of San Diego people in general) and Colorado University at Boulder. There’s one other student from Cal Poly Slo floating around here somewhere, but I have yet to meet him. And we are roughly 200 boys to 320 girls, a ratio quite different than at CP Slo.

My roommate and I ended the evening watching the always culturally astute film 10 Things I Hate About You (takes me back to junior high like nothing else can) on the miniscule TV in our room, wearing slipper socks (it’s FREEZING on this ship) and munching on trail mix. We find ourselves constantly exhausted A.) because we’re constantly meeting people B.) because we’re constantly being rocked to sleep by the ship and perhaps most significantly C.) because we are sailing east, we are losing hours every night (and will continue to lose hours for the next three nights until we gain a day)

And now for a few more anecdotes on the beloved rocking. Yesterday the drawers of our bedside table were opening and closing by themselves (Maybe that can help you to understand exactly what I mean by “rocking”). The way that our cabin is facing and arranged means that laying in bed you are rocked from head to foot, not side to side. This often makes me laugh because I can actually watch my roommate as she’s tugged slightly down her bed and pushed slightly up her bed as she sleeps (this is not exclusive to my roommate, but is rather a universal phenomena). I’ve found it helpful when in class or the dining room to choose a seat that rocks from side to side, and not backwards and forwards (while it may make me more sleepy, it keeps the queasiness to a minimum).

Alright, then. I’m putting a stop to this wordy brain of mine for now. Blessings to you all on solid ground.

Love. Anna

p.s. I'm a day behind, and trying to catch up. Look for another post soon.

Officially At Sea

Where to begin, friends?

I have this compulsion when I write to include every little sensory detail. I so wish to communicate to everything that I have seen and felt and everything else I’ve taken in all the past 2 days in hopes that I can send a little capsule of my world home to you all.

But the reality is that in the beginning of transitioning into college on a boat that is sailing around the world means you only have the time, space, and mental capacity to write the simple, basic blocks that construct the day.

So here I am.

In my room and new home for the next 3.5 months.

I’m sitting here with my brand stinking new roommate Allie, who looks like a cross between my friend Annie Smith and Rachel McAdams from The Notebook. She is lovely and kind and funny and laidback and loves Jesus (I’m not kidding when I say that for I snagged the best roommate on the boat. Considering the roommate assignments were random, that would be a first).

The MV Explorer is smaller than expected, but my room is larger than expected (with a generously-sized window) so I’ll take that compromise.

It’s been over 24 hours sailing and I have officially eaten, showered, and slept on the wide-open seas with no land in sight.

Some of you might be under the impression that the boat is big enough not to feel the rocking of the 6-foot swells below us.

No-no, friends, no-no.

At lease for now, I don’t think I could ever forget that I’m living on the surface of the Atlantic Ocean. There is a CONSTANT rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth like the epic lines from everyone’s childhood favorite I’ll Love You Forever. It’s not barfing-up-breakfast rocking, but definitely how-am-I-ever-going-to-complete-assigned-readings-without-passing-out status. This means we can all pray for sea-legs to arrive as soon as possible. In the meantime, the boat offers unlimited, complimentary seasickness medication that can be retrieved anytime from a dispenser on deck 2.

Classes start tomorrow, and like the nerd I am at heart, I’m ecstatic about them. Delicious, intellectual mind-stimulation. What could be better?

On the course schedule is Global Studies (required for all Semester at Sea students), The World In Literature and Film (think fiction into film international-style), Geohazards and Natural Disasters (should be nice and comforting to study while at sea), Warfare in the Modern Era (from a humanistic, not tactical, perspective), and (if adding goes well) Anthropology of Reproduction (my semi-secret potential passion). I met my professors this afternoon, and there will be more on them later, I’m sure.

So that leaves me both literally and figuratively trying to find my equilibrium, but until then I’m stumbling down the hallways of the ship and taking it day by day.

Love. Anna

p.s. Unfortunately, the internet connection is VERY slow and even more EXPENSIVE. Due to this reality, I won’t be able to post pictures very often…they take way to long to upload and consequently eat away mega bytes, which we have to pay for. My sincerest apologies. While a picture may be worth a thousand words, words will have to do.

thoughts on long weeks, readiness, and being human

Disclaimer to reader: The following post contains a description of a very bad week. This is not for pity, but rather to appease the people who love me enough to hound me until I update my blog, even when I tell them I have nothing good to say.

It's been a long week. A really long week. The type of week where standing in lines and sitting in waiting rooms and trying to get places on time and the travel tubes of facial exfolliant you forgot to buy at Target all seem to suck the life out of you.

I would venture to guess that if "crappy week" (a very technical term taking the world by storm, i know) had a dictionary definition i think it would go something like this...

crap•py week:
-noun
1. a technical term.
2. a period of seven successive days, contained therein 5 appointments complete with 3 immunizations, 5 cavity fillings, 1 traffic violation, 1 locking-key-inside-house-like-idiot incident, and 2 sad goodbyes.
3. time completed by Anna Clauson between the dates of August 16, 2009 and August 23, 2009.

One might think such a week makes you ready to go and embark on a 3.5 month journey around the world.

But alas, readiness has alluded me again.

Readiness.

Everyone wants to know if I'm "ready".

Still don't know what that fully looks like, friends.

The honest truth is I'd rather watch the Food Network on my parents bed in my christmas-tree pajamas. I might even go for an episode of 20/20, if my parents were there to watch it with me (I'm paranoid by the murder mystery episodes, which dates back to ill-experiences with America's Most Wanted in early childhood).

But ready or not this adventure starts in five days. And I like to think that's for the better.

So sweet dreams, my fellow humans.

And may these next five days find you feeling very much alive, in spite of the long lines and the waiting rooms and the travel tubes of facial exfolliant you forgot to buy at Target.

Love. Anna

two zero

20 days and counting. (accompanied by high screeching noise)

now where for pete's sake did june and july run off to?

sneaky little thing time is. very sneaky. this means "to do" list time has officially arrived. boo. at least it rhymes. that's something, isn't it?

off to gather strength (also known as slumber).

goodnight, friends.

(good)byes

I've yet to meet a human being who enjoys goodbye.

Probably has something to do with pain avoidance, a pursuit those in the developed world have mastered quite well, and those in most of the developing world would if they could, but they can't.

We generally prefer something like "see you later", yes? As someone who's begun goodbye (6 in the past 5 days to be exact), I'm learning first hand of our preference for this, or really, my preference for this.

"I'll be back" is my personal favorite. I like to say that. It's a quasi refusal to acknowledge the birthdays I'll miss, the Thanksgiving I'll spend absent at the table, the memories dear friends will make without me, as they rightly should.

But I'll be back.

And at some level, I'm right.

I will be.

It's just that chances are it won't be the same I. (Scary)

Chances are it shouldn't be the same I. (Even scarier)

I know in the deepest parts of my being that this journey should change me; that you don't see the things I'm going to see without being provoked and inspired and broken.

And there's always the possibility that the new chapter I return home with will have changed the plot completely.

Which is why it's necessary that I muster the strength to say goodbye. Not avoid it. Or reject. Or treat it with the utter disdain that comes so naturally to me. But to say it and mean it as best I know how.

Goodbye.

It's an integral part of becoming new.

And it's something strange and marvelous to know you're not who you were.

I've come to call this grace.