We signed up for the adventure of a lifetime, and we are getting it, but not in the way we expected. We got another curve ball last night when we learned that the Seychelles denied our entry into port. We expect Mauritius to follow suit. As a result, we did not get off the ship this morning as expected and now are headed to Mozambique.
There are no known cases of corona virus on our ship (in fact, our ship doctor says this is the healthiest our shipboard community has been so far on the voyage). By the time we reach Mozambique, we will have been at sea for 18 days since our last port in Vietnam, surpassing the 14-day incubation period for the virus. Still, the threat of a pandemic makes governments and port agents nervous, particularly in small island nations without much medical infrastructure to deal with a contagious disease.
Everything is contextual and our entire experience is deeply rooted in privilege, but this has been a big blow for the shipboard community. This morning, Chris said to me that the hardest part is loving people and seeing them so disappointed. I think that’s right. Loving people has been both the biggest gift and biggest challenge of this voyage. A fellow faculty member joined us for breakfast this morning and his mere presence brought me to tears. He sailed on SAS as a ship kid when he was about Wally’s age. It was such a transformative experience that he built his career as a Geographer on the hope that he might be well situated to be hired as faculty and share the voyage with his wife and two kids. Sigh. Students that have touched us with their humor and enthusiasm, people who have doted on and entertained our kids are watching their dream slip away port by port. Some of them have been saving the 35K it costs to be here since their early teens. None of us are sure how any of this is going to turn out. Best case scenario, we may be able to complete the voyage and visit the remaining ports. Or, we may arrive in Mozambique in 7 days and be once again be denied port, extending our already lengthy stretch at sea. It is hard to trust any kind of “schedule” at this point. Uncertainty is the name of the game.
Staff and faculty, who are also dealing with their own feelings of loss and uncertainty, are hustling to do right by the students. Examples of empathy, hard work, dedication, effort, understanding, creativity, gratitude, and support surround us all. With only about 12 hours of lead time, the student life team had put together a whole series of activities for the community today – Democratic debate viewing, basketball and volleyball tournament, pool dance party, Harry Potter Movie Marathon, board games and more. Faculty, who have already written and rewritten syllabi numerous times to accommodate the previous two itinerary changes, spent their night last night providing support to students and accessing their limited internet allocation to yet again begin the search for content relevant to a new port destination on our itinerary. Chris and his partner, Marvel, are working overtime to provide skilled support to the many people who need a listening ear right now. Even Rigley and her friends got in on the action and spent the morning decorating Dean Gene and Dean Mari’s door with post-it notes of affirmation.
Our family is holding up. We’ve had some pretty epic experiences so far on the voyage, both on and off the ship, some of which we’ve had the chance to share with you on this blog. Right now, we are sailing in the Indian Ocean in glass calm seas, with our meals provided, a swimming pool, and laundry service. All of us are alive and healthy. We are surrounded by friends and colleagues and students who we travel with in solidarity. We grieve the loss of our original vision of Semester at Sea with the kids: of snorkeling on the beaches of Malaysia, hiking in India, and hugging tortoises in the Seychelles. We avoid talking about money. We are concurrently ok, “not ok” and so much better than ok. We’re only halfway through the voyage and we’ll stick around for the end of the story. Onward.
Ambiguous grief is one of the hardest emotions to process. It's tough to absorb the loss of a dream, so even though things seems okay and everyone is safe and in a place of privilege, emotions are emotions regardless of the source. I'm glad all of you are able to show up for that mixture of this experience and face it together. You're an awesome community member, JJJ, and I have no doubt your presence and perspective there mean a great deal to everyone around you.
ReplyDeleteOmfg, you make me cry with your words .
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