Cabin 2014

What you are about to read is something I just wrote down in my journal about 10 minutes ago. It is pure emotion and I have no idea if it makes any sense, but if you were wondering what was going through my head at 0023 hours on April 8, 2010, read on.

I still need to write about my time in Cape Town, but in the mean time, it is the third day of shipboard life between South Africa and Ghana. Yesterday I had no class and felt like spending the day in my room. I had Kelli in there with me most of the day, but I really had no desire to go out and “be” with people. I had forgotten how easy it is to have privacy at Pitt or at home, but on the ship you are always running into someone to talk to. I usually love that, but I needed a day off. So I slept in, watched TV and movies, read a lot of my book, and only ventured out of my room for a 20 minute lunch and a hot dog at 10 pm. It was much needed down time.

Today was back to normal- I ate all 3 meals in the dining hall, went to my 3 classes, even studied for my quiz in public, and went to the film festival put on by the students in the evening. Which was mostly really good. I wish I could put my observations and thoughts and experiences into videos like those—I really wish I could present my ideas in that format. It’s such an effective way to say and literally show so much in only 3 minutes. But my mind just doesn’t work that way.

Right now, I’m really missing my friends from home and school. Everyone on the ship is so incredible, but I wish everyone I care about was here with me going through everything. Mostly because they all deserve it just as much as I do, but also because I know telling people about the things I’ve done and showing pictures will never do any of it justice. And that legitimately makes me sad.

Some of the things I’m feeling feel so profound that I can’t bear to feel them without my best friends of mother or sister feeling them right there beside me. I’m scared to go back home because I know in reality, there is no going back. I will go home but it won’t look like the same home I left in January: I won’t see it through the same lens. I know that isn’t a bad thing and that whatever has changed inside of me is for the better, but a part of me is sad that I never got to say a proper goodbye to that part of my life- the part of me that was so wrapped up in my own little microcosm. I never formally parted with the side of me which didn’t know or understand the other parts of the world.

I know that spending five days in a culture doesn’t allow me to understand it, but that’s all I’ve got and I’m doing the best that I can. I know that when I go home, people will ask me how I’ve changed and I don’t know what I can say to them. How do I tell people about random strangers welcoming me into the intimate details of their lives? Showing me where they eat and telling me where their families are? How do I convey the inescapable and overwhelming atmosphere of a foreign culture which is foreign only to me because I am the one who does not belong? How do I tell people about the warmth and sunshine which radiates from a child’s smile while he jumps and climbs on me with pure love and joy, even though we cannot pronounce each other’s names?

On days like these I cannot seem to wrap my head around the things I am going through or these so-called changes which are happening inside of me. I can’t understand how I can live and sleep and breathe on this ship as my friends and I complain about annoying people or the disorganized activities office, while we are being transported around the world and then dropped off in a country and told, “Go. See. Learn.” How do I do it??

I think I’m doing a good job so far, but is a “good job” good enough? There is still so much of this earth for me to explore and know and learn from and try my best to make an impact on, and I’m drowning in the inevitable reality that I just can’t do it all. I can’t understand how the world is changing me, and I can’t understand how I am to change the world. But I suppose with four weeks left and only two more countries to go, the best I can do is to try: try to soak up as much as I can, try to leave as much of a mark as I can, and try my hardest to keep my promises that I will come back- for longer next time- to stay and really get to know the people and their lives.

As I write, my eyes are tearing up, but they aren’t tears of sadness, I don’t think they are tears of overwhelming, I believe they are tears of happiness. I am so remarkably happy to be able to go around this planet of ours and step into other’s lives even for just a second, and with just that second, have all of humanity be confirmed to me. This world is FULL of people—all with stories and backgrounds and futures and problems and celebrations—and no matter how much we try to distance ourselves from one another, we are all in the Life together. I never want a single on of these people to leave my Life.

Maybe that is what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of going home and simplifying my experiences down to one paragraph and diminishing people back down to the statistics they started out as. I’m afraid of these people ever leaving my life… because I know it is impossible to hold on to each one of them forever. And all I want to do is to hold on. Hold on tight and never, ever, let go.