Exactly seven months ago, I was walking with my several of my friends through the plazas in Salvador, Brazil. Seven months ago, a teenage boy named Rodrigo approached me and tied a white ribbon around my right wrist as he asked for money to buy some food. Startled that he had already finished knotting the ribbon tightly three times around my hand, I (in that true American way) robotically apologized, saying that I had nothing to offer him. The truth is, I could have easily walked with him around the corner and bought him a sandwich. I could have easily taken out some spare money that I, the well-off traveler, needed far less than he. But instead, I followed the custom and made my silent wish on my ribbon that Rodrigo would no longer be hungry.
Every day since that boy tied the ribbon to me, and every time that I have glanced at my wrist in passing, I think of Rodrigo. I think of how I should have responded differently, with more thought and respect, and how there is nothing I can do about it now except wait for my ribbon to fall off. (The superstition is that if you take the ribbon off yourself, your wish will not come true.)
Well, today, on Thanksgiving Day, I noticed that my white, tattered string was no longer on my body. I felt a sense of loss at first, as if with this one realization, all of my memories of Semester at Sea would disappear forever. But after the reality sank in, I understood that my time on the MV Explorer will always be in my heart, with or without physical reminders.
As the day went on, I found myself reflecting on how different my life has been since returning to the States, and yet how little my day to day activities have actually changed. I still spend every day going to class after class, coming home to study for hours, and then socializing about meaningless pop-culture references. And there, I feel unfulfilled. Why can’t every day be an adventure like it was last spring? Why don’t I go to sleep each night feeling like I have learned something about myself or the wider world? Why have I been once again sucked into the Y Generation culture of cell phones, facebook, texting, and immediately google-ing any question I might have? Why can’t I walk outside and have the world at my fingertips every single day?
I haven’t yet figured out a solution to all of these issues, but I did step back and think about just how thankful I am to have had the experience of a semester at sea. I am thankful for all of the beautiful people I have come into contact with over the past year, both American and foreign alike. I am thankful for my parents who are always there to hear me vent my frustrations and then comfort me. I will always be thankful for simple, sweet humanity and our innate need to help one another. And of course, I am thankful that supposedly, now Rodrigo is happy, successful, and will never be hungry again.
