Aaaannnnnddddd, breathe. One more time. Okay and again. Great. Oops, sorry, that was for me. Folks, this blog post comes after what has truly been the most incredibly fantastic and memorable 109 days of the entire twenty-one years of my existence. I am sitting on an airplane, bound for the Empire State, leaving behind me the final destination of a life-altering journey. Sitting here, trying to think to myself over the voice of a rather obnoxiously talkative pilot, I encounter a great struggle to find the words to describe what has just happened to me. I’m starting to wonder if they even exist. I do not have the vocabulary database necessary to justify the wonders of this voyage. As always, I will do my best. Having been on United States soil for about 24 hours, I now am faced with the duty of talking to friends and family about my trip. Questions like “What was your favorite country?” or “What was the most fun thing you did?” will be quite common and for each time they will be asked, I will each time fail to produce a justifiable answer. WHERE DO I BEGIN?! I realize by this point in the post I have hardly talked about the actual trip itself but give me a break. Even I am still trying to wrap my head around it.
For the past 156,960 minutes I was honored to live in a beautiful ship, surrounded by incredible individuals, sailing the vast waters of this planet, reaching edges of the world whose existence is nearly unimaginable. The dawn broke on January 17th and when I left the Sheraton hotel in San Diego, CA, I not only left behind my family and friends (and my bathing suit and sandals), but I left behind Christopher Jackson Constantine version 1.0. Through extensive travel, heart opening experiences, and the witnessing of soul rocking events, I landed in Ft. Lauderdale a dissimilar human being. In those 109 days we all were taught hundreds of different ways to change our troubled planet while that same planet unknowingly changed us. I watched a monk walk blissfully down an alley in Japan. I slept on a centuries old stonewall snaking across China. I played silly games with children in the dirt of a South African township. I bear hugged the Taj Mahal. I pet lions. I laughed with friends. I learned from professors. I opened my eyes a little wider. I grew and I changed.
What lies beyond your computer screen, beyond the walls of your home, beyond the driveway, beyond the borders of the state, is a world alive with an awing soul. And I met it. Like every human, this world was not perfect, it was sometimes unkind, it was sometimes hostile. But then again, like every human, I got to know it and it opened itself up to me and it blew me away. The sights and images of this planet blasted my mind in to imagination overdrive.
You know, a lot of people said that this trip is a life changing experience. While I fully agree with that, I personally have yet to see it. And that, to me, is the beauty of it all. I am quite eager to jump on the opportunity when I can utilize what I have learned from this remarkable world and apply it to my life. I feel different. I know I have changed but I have yet to see how. The experiences eternally trapped in my mind shall serve as an infinite supply of (environmentally safe) fuel used to propel the changes of my character. As I grow from what I have seen, I shall continue to grow from the unseen. While I saw unfathomable amounts of wonder since January 17th, I know that I have merely scratched the surface of this mysteriously exciting globe. Knowing that what I have seen actually exists, there is no telling what else is out there. It thrills me to know that I have much more to witness.
Now, let me share with you one word, “sustainability.” Say it with me, suh-stain-uh-bill-itty. The theme of this voyage was just that. I cannot possibly share with you all that I have learned about our environmentally twisted planet from these past four months but I can give you a summary. We’re on the wrong track. The state of this planet both environmentally and socially is heading down a road that we probably shouldn’t be on. It’s in the alley of a bad neighborhood and we should probably ask for directions and find our way out. Environmentally, the planet is heating up. Like a bowl of microwaveable easy-mac, bad things happen when you let it get too hot. To identify only a few concerns from the extensive list of issues, waters are rising, extinction is becoming too common, and many lives, both human and not, are at risk. Each day in the classroom we were pummeled and overwhelmed with information regarding the unstable conditions of our planet. We saw current problems, potential future ones, and learned of catastrophic possibilities. I won’t lie to you we didn’t stop global warming. We didn’t eradicate hunger or end poverty. In fact, we may have only shot one tiny bullet in this battle for the improvement of our planet. But as the old saying goes, “knowledge is power!” It is. Trust me. What we learned from this program was all the weapons and coat of arms we need to have a chance in winning this fight. By arming us with knowledge for both now and the future, 586 students disembarked yesterday with a firm grasp on what needs to be done to support the soil we stand on. The timing of this part of the post comes at a surprisingly convenient time as I am listening to a proud Delta flight attendant boasting about the airline’s on-board recycling program started in 2007. “By allowing us to recycle your beverage cans, we collect hundreds of pounds of recyclables to be disposed of in an environmentally safe manner!” she says somewhat cheerfully. She adds on with, “we have been active participants in this program ever since 2007.” As if 2007 indicates the beginning of some extensive history. While this single program produces only minor effects for the planet, it’s a start. And we need more of it. I’m not saying all you need to do is recycle your Diet Coke or your Keystone Light but it’s something you can do and something you should do. It’s small steps like these that add up in the long haul. Wow, look at me preaching like I am trying to correct the evils of this world. I’ll move on here but I urge you to close this page (once you’re done reading and applauding of course) open up the Google and find ways you can make a difference. Or ask around. Or read a book. Either way, if you don’t want your lives or your children’s lives to be in danger then start making a difference now. I don’t know about you, but I love this planet, it’d be a shame to see it collapse on itself.
Go ahead and take a sip of that drink and maybe stretch the legs a bit. You need a breather, I’ll wait. Good? Let’s keep going. But where to go I have no idea. It is that SIMPLE ladies and gentlemen. I SIMPLY do not know where to take the rest of this post. This is not some pathetic attempt to end early or escape from thinking more about it; it’s my honest declaration to you that it has been a world rocking experience whose attempts to capture in words will almost always end in utter failure. I can only say that you would know what I am talking about if you did it. But can you do it? You should. Oh you absolutely should.
The opportunity to meet amazing souls and live on a ship atop the world’s oceans is brilliant and incredibly rare. That’s why I’d like to take this time to give a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the creators of my being, the givers of my life, Mr. Stephen Constantine and Mrs. Robin Constantine, more commonly known as dad and mom (respectively, of course). If you two are reading this, consider this one tiny step in my quest to thank you for everything. Thank you for letting me pack a suitcase and board the journey of a lifetime. If anyone reading ever sees those two individuals in person, stop, shake their hands, give them a hug maybe, look ‘em in the eyes and say, “Wow, you’re great.” Because they are. Mom and dad, thank you from the bottom of my heart. And thank YOU to all other mother’s and father’s out there for giving your children the chance to see the world and allowing me to enjoy it with them. Whether they show it or not, your kid(s) is extremely grateful. You guys are also great.
To any SASholes reading, I would also like to take this time to thank you from the furthest reaches of my soul. Whether you’re a good friend and reading to enjoy or a mortal enemy reading to gather material to further hate me or laugh at me, I thank you all. We all heard everyone on board say that the fascination of this journey comes from the people you travel with and I cannot tell you how true that is. We have grown together and we have SEEN THE WORLD TOGETHER! The bond that creates is astronomically profound. I will never forget those of you whom I have come very close with. Thank you all. Thank you so very very much.
Finally, thank you, fellow reader or readers (hoping there’s just more than one of you). Reading my work has encouraged me to stay dedicated to you and I appreciate your time and attention these past few months. If I ever find the need to blog again soon, you will be the first to know. Luck you!
Well, that’s it. Like that mesmerizing voyage came to an end, so must this Nobel Prize worthy post. This is perhaps the hardest part. No, not ending this post, but closing this laptop to see the face of the future glaring at me. The voyage is over. The ship has sailed…literally. It left for the Bahamas last night. What I looked forward to for months has now flown by so fast I can’t even comprehend what just hit me. I shutter at the fact that I will probably never experience a trip as amazing as that again but I will certainly try my best. This aircraft is moments away from touching down in New York and I cannot measure how badly I miss it all.
Quick scene change: I was chastised by an angry flight attendant for “operating an electronic device during final approach” so I was forced to end my session. Apparently Microsoft Word is known to send aircrafts in to unrecoverable tailspins. So now, it’s even more bizarre because I am back home. I am here. This is it. It’s the ultimate frontier of the voyage, my last port of call, if you will. I think back to just 72 hours ago and there I was aboard my home with wonderful people in the middle of the Mediterranean. Now, I stare at the landscape that is my back yard when days ago the entire world was my backyard.
That’s it folks. There it is. Laid out in front of you in what I consider a platinum platter (silver’s no good). One hundred and nine days. I have been alive for 7,670.25 days yet those 109 are purely the most majestic. I am unsure as to how the experiences of my journeys will serve me in the future in front of me, but I am confident they will not let me down. I have tried and will try my best to convey the magnitude of this journey and its effects on my life but I fear that I will hardly succeed. Tomorrow morning, I will not wake up on a 25,000-ton ship, nor will I be in the middle of the ocean, nor will I be awaiting the arrival to another exotic country. Instead I’ll wake up with the past four months glued to my heart and the foundations of my character cemented with the journey of a lifetime.
My final advice (almost done): EMBRACE THE WORLD. It’s out there. I don’t know what I mean by “it” but trust me “it” is out there. Should the opportunity present itself to you to break away from the confines of your everyday life, I urge you to seize it. Even if it’s going to Oklahoma to visit family or to South Africa to fight HIV/AIDS…just GO. That’s it. Travel. Enjoy this planet. It’s a bit messed up, I will admit, but that cannot stop you for if it does, then you will unfortunately miss out on a world that needs to be discovered.
Thank you all so very much. May your future endeavors serve you well and good luck with the days that await you.
Sincerely yours,
Christopher J. Constantine.
“With all its sham, drudgery
And broken dreams, it’s still
A beautiful world. Be careful.
Strive to be happy.”
- Someone said this, but I forgot whom.
I sailed S09 and was just thinking of how hard it was to come home. A friend told me all you S10ers had just got often the ship, so I thought I would try and find some of your blogs. The first few weeks will be as horrible as everyone said they would, but over time things DO get better. I still get shipsick on a weekly basis, but keeping in touch with my SAS friends eases the pain. Not to mention talking about it as much as possible, it keeps the memories fresh. I hope your re-entry isn't too tough, good luck!
ReplyDeleteWell said Chris! I came across this and I was really touched by how you summed it all up. It's been an honor sharing this experience with you and looking forward to our family reunion! :-)
ReplyDeletePappa Midhun