The Last Blog From The Ship

My luggage is packed and in some unknown corner of the ship ready to be whisked away when we arrive in Florida tomorrow. My friends and I are scrambling chaotically to trade pictures and videos. I still have half a bottle of ketchup to use up.

I am teetering on the edge of the most formative experience of my life.

Semester at Sea provided me with so much more than I could ever have imagined. They tell you: “Go around the world, 12 countries, 108 days, 700 college students!” That's only the tip of the iceberg. There are so many things they don't tell you.

-They don't tell you that you get to interact with your professors on a much deeper level. You see them in the cafeteria, you see them in class, and you see them walking around with their kids, with whom you become friends (and have to buy a pizza when one of them miraculously gets one point higher than you on a marine biology final exam).

-They don't tell you that you get to play piano every day and record music and accompany singers and that you get opportunities to practice comedy and hone your own personal skills in anything you wish to improve upon.

-They don't tell you how much time you are going to spend alone, thinking about what you've seen and what you've done.

-They don't tell you that by the end you are going to have friends around the world that you are going to keep in touch with for the rest of your life.

-They don't tell you how much shipboard life, which is about half of the time, becomes your way of life, and how much each and every nook and cranny of the ship holds some meaning to you.

-They don't tell you that it will either shatter your plans for the rest of your life, or, in my case, reinforce them.

-They don't tell you that you'll be able to fit everything you need in a bag you can wear on your back.

-They don't tell you that while SAS pretends to provide you with an external voyage around the world, they actually give you the most personal experience for growth you'll ever have.



Packing was sad. It was one of those things that I didn't want to do, because it represented the reality that the voyage is over. No, the voyage is complete. When I step off the ship in Florida tomorrow, this voyage is complete. Everything that will happen has happened, and my immediate growth is finished.

The real challenge is applying what I've learned and how I've grown into my life at home, with my family and friends and my career. I've been deeply inspired to tell stories. If I've learned one thing, its that everyone in every country in the entire world has a story, and they are all unique, and they all deserve to be told. I've been deeply inspired to keep playing piano. Bob, the a/v tech guy and REALLY professional musician just handed me a CD of 9 fakebooks in PDF form. He told me I got some good stuff going on and I should never stop playing. I am also inspired to keep on exploring comedy. I had so many opportunities to try comedy in so many forms, and found that people do enjoy listening to me.

I've seen the best and the worst things our world has to offer. The best gives you faith in humanity, and the worst makes you wonder how people in a rural village in India can live in filth and still be happy. While others feel guilty for living the way we do, I feel very lucky to have the standard of living that I have. I don't feel it is necessary for me to give up something like hygiene or a really hot relaxing shower just because someone else doesn't have it. But every hot shower I take now I'll be thankful for it, and I hope to spread this sense of awareness to my friends and family upon my return.

And now, the big question: “How Am I Supposed to Treat Jonathan When He Gets Home?”

This is tricky stuff. You've changed while I've been gone, and I've changed while I've been gone. We are both going to be different people when I return, but we are both expecting the other to be the same old person. I don't expect any preferential treatment, and I don't expect you to be asking me questions all the time about my trip. Don't feel like I'm expecting you to be totally wide-eyed and astonished every time I see you and that I'm wanting you to even feign interest. It's okay. Please, feel free to ask me questions – I'm SO EXCITED to share the pictures and crazy stories, but don't feel like I will be “offended” or something if every other word out of your mouth isn't “was it just amazing?”

I'll definitely need some space when I get home. I am going to give myself a day or two do decompress, so if you call me I may not return your calls straight away. I've got pictures to post, I'll probably write more blogs, and I've got sleep to catch up on. But know that I love all of you and that you were not absent from my thoughts on this trip and just because I'm not talking to you right away when I get home doesn't mean I don't love you anymore.

But I'm still me. I'm going on about changing and changing and changing but I'm still me. I just have a much broader view of the word. I'm still going to Panda Express and Disney at least once a week. I'm still a Delt. I'm still working for the BJE playing guitar. I've just got more life experiences built upon my previous life as a non-world-traveler.

This will most likely be my last blog before I get home. I want to thank you all for reading and letting me share this experience with you as best I can. I'll be posting pictures when I get home, so there will be thousands more words on these pages.

This is Jonathan Katz of Ship Quips, saying goodbye from the M.V. Explorer.