Semester at sea alters student’s perspective

Below is an article that was published in the Town Journal (NorthJersey.com) about my experience. Thank you so much to those who read my posts and shared in my journey with me. It meant "the world" (pun intended) to me.

Semester at sea alters student’s perspective
Thursday, June 3, 2010
LAST UPDATED: THURSDAY JUNE 3, 2010, 1:23 AM
BY REBECCA GREENE
TOWN JOURNAL
FOR TOWN JOURNAL

Classrooms can come in many different shapes and sizes, ranging from the traditional four walls to the rocking of a cruise ship. Allendale resident Kelly Corcoran decided upon the latter during her recent semester abroad.


PHOTO COURTESY OF KELLY CORCORAN
During her semester at sea, Allendale resident Kelly Corcoran visited eight different countries, where she was taught local customs firsthand by the residents. Corcoran also helped entertain the ship's other passengers by serving as a yoga instructor during her stay of almost four months on the 590-foot boat. Above, Corcoran enjoys the view of the Great Wall of China.

From Jan. 17 to May 5, Corcoran sailed around the world on a classroom cruise ship. She documented much of her trip on an Internet blog, kelly-sas.blog spot. com, where she discussed mosquito bites, the inappropriate jokes from some of the tour guides, long hikes, and the food poisoning that affected some of her travel mates for 10 hours straight.

The 21-year-old junior, who attends St. Joseph's University in Philadelphia, was originally preparing to spend her semester abroad in Italy, but then learned about the semester at sea and quickly changed her plans.

"I knew I had to do it," she said after returning from her trip in May.

Her full itinerary on her semester at sea included San Diego, Calif.; Hilo and Honolulu, Hawaii; Yokohama and Kobe, Japan; Shanghai and Hong Kong, China; Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam; Chennai and Cochin, India; Port Louis, Mauritius; Cape Town, South Africa; Tema (Accra), Ghana; Salvador, Brazil; and back to the United States in Fort Lauderdale, Fla.

"I stopped in eight different countries, sometimes two different cities in each country," Corcoran said. "I usually stayed in each country for five days."

Corcoran spent the rest of her time on the ship, and at one point spent about two consecutive weeks on board without getting off at all. The ship, a 25,000-ton ocean liner is 590 feet in total length and equipped with nine classrooms, a faculty and staff lounge with 138 seats, a 7,500-square-foot pool area, and 1,170 seats located on various other decks.

She said her view of the world has changed since the trip.

"I will never listen to the news or read my textbooks in the same way [again]," Corcoran said.

She explained that she and the 586 other students attending the semester abroad were required to take Global Studies, a course with lecturers from all different fields including history, political science, music, art, religion, psychology, biology and other subjects.

"We also had inter-port lecturers from each country, who were there to tell us firsthand about their homeland," Corcoran said. "We didn't just know the facts about each country, we knew the stories."

So, in a trip so filled with international flair, how does Corcoran explain the effect of the full experience?

"To say that my view of the world has changed is an understatement," she said. "The real reason my perspective of the world is forever different is because I visited each country with an understanding of where it's been and how it got to where it is today."

Corcoran said it has been difficult to describe the trip to friends and family.

"I can already picture people growing bored of my stories, or trying to get it, but not fully understanding. And I can't blame them because I wouldn't have either," she said. "How do you describe the view from the Great Wall of China when you're not actually standing on it with your own two feet, or the feeling of sleeping in a hammock on a small riverboat while floating down the Amazon? How do you explain the adrenaline rush you get when you dive into the water with great white sharks, or the hopelessness you feel when you stare into the eyes of an orphan in a township of South Africa?"

Corcoran said she has few words to describe the bond she now shares with her other shipmates, who, up until four months ago, were complete strangers. Known as a yoga instructor among her friends and family, she began teaching it while on the ship. She volunteered at the beginning of the voyage and had no idea what to expect.

"Not only did I not know a single person coming onto this trip, but I'd never actually taught yoga to anyone aside from my friends and family, so you can imagine how nervous I was when I showed up the first day and found 65 people waiting to take my class," she said.

Since then, she taught every other day at sea and developed "a strong following of students, faculty, and staff." She taught at sunrise, sunset and at night, under the stars.

"There is nothing better than doing yoga while staring out into the ocean," she said.

Over the three and half month period, Corcoran said she almost forgot she was taking classes. The process was so exciting, she said, the learning seemed to be just a natural part of the whole experience.

"But now that I have been through this experience, there's no going back," she concluded. "How do I return to the same life when I'm no longer the same person?"


http://www.northjersey.com/news/95482684_Semester_at_sea_alters_student_s_perspective_.html

Yoga at Sea

Practicing yoga is my passion. I've been taking classes and practicing on my own for years. I've also worked at two different yoga studios in order to get free classes and be in an environment of "yoga-lovers." For a while now, one of my goals has been to get certified as a yoga instructor. But not just any certification, one of the reputable programs that is recognized by Yoga Alliance and integrates all of the different elements of the practice, including the history, the tradition, the spiritual aspects, and the lifestyle. However, these programs can cost thousands of dollars and take almost a year to complete. As much as I wanted to teach yoga, I knew that I did not have the money or the time to do it if I was going to go abroad. And going on Semester at Sea was not something I was willing to sacrifice.





One of the things I love about the "yoga-attitude" is the belief that everything will happen the way it is supposed to happen. And I was told this by one of my yoga instructors last summer when I was feeling discouraged that I would never be able to teach yoga. She assured me that everything would work out in time as long as I continued to go in the direction of my passion.





Fast forward a few months.... Sure enough, the opportunity presented itself on the second day of the voyage when we were asked to sign up for different activities. As much as I felt intimidated by all the new faces, I decided to at least offer to teach a class in case they didn't have anyone else or needed more instructors. So that is what I did. I still remember walking up to the lady in charge of spiritual life (Jenny Finn) and telling her that I could teach yoga if they needed me to.





To some people, this might not seem like a big deal, but for me, it marks the moment on Semester at Sea that I decided to leap into newness instead of timidly avoiding it or waiting for opportunities to come to me. Deciding to teach yoga was not just a way for me to pursue my passion, but it also became a way for me to meet people on the ship. I was putting myself out there in a big way--trying something new with a boat-load (literally) of new people.




As I mentioned in one of my earlier posts, I was beyond surprised to find 65 people show up for one of my first classes. I was even more surprised to find that I continued to have a large following of people at my classes-- teachers, students, and a few life-long learners. I started teaching at sunset and I even taught at sunrise a few times towards the end of the trip. Those classes were filled with some of the best moments of the voyage and probably some of the best I'll ever experience in my life. Imagine being in the middle of the ocean, doing your favorite thing in the world (for me, yoga)with the most amazing people, with nothing between you and a breathtaking sunset. This was my life.





I am aware that no yoga class will ever be able to compare to this. However, when I close my eyes and set me intention, I can practically hear the waves and feel the wind on the back. But most of all, I picture my friends who loyally attended my 3:30 A-day class and made this experience such a special part of my voyage.

Dancing our Bodies Back

Of all the places that I visited, all the things that I saw, and all the people that I met, I would have to say that the most special part of my journey happened right on the ship while I was dancing with my shipmates at Jenny Finn’s Spiritual Dance class. Although I only mentioned it briefly in my earlier posts, Spiritual Dance played a significant role in our shipboard community and contributed to my semester immensely. Perhaps, the only reason I haven’t described it more in detail is because there are truly no words that would ever be able to capture the beautiful moments and the transformation process that I experienced during those hour-long dances that happened every other A-Day in our student Union. In this post, I will attempt to explain the dance, or as Jenny would say, “the dance we call life.”



I was one of the 15 people who attended Jenny’s first dance class. Although I love to dance at parties and when I’m by myself with the music blasting, I’ve never considered myself a “dancer.” The only reason I showed up for Jenny’s class was because I had met her a few days earlier and something about her was so warm and inviting, I knew that I had to be around her. To this day, if Jenny asked me do anything with her, it doesn’t matter what, even if she wanted me to pick blades of grass with her for an entire day, I think I would do it, just because I would get to spend time with her. She is one of those people whose mere presence can light up a room, whose body and soul are intricately connected to everything she does, and whose heart is so full of love that it pours out onto everything she touches. But the reason why Jenny is so special is not because she is always happy or always optimistic. In fact, it is her willingness to allow every part of herself to “show up”, including her sadness and her fear, that makes her someone you want to be around. By letting her own vulnerability show in her dance, Jenny creates an environment where being vulnerable is not only allowed, but it is welcomed. So often our minds get in the way of us being ourselves. But on the dance floor, Jenny challenged us to be authentic. Using our feet and our breath, we began to dance our bodies back. What we found is that when we stopped living in our heads and started listening to our bodies, we were able to access the stories of our hearts. And those stories told us a message of LOVE.



Every dance starts with feet. We walk around on our feet every day, but somehow we lose this connection because we get so caught up in our minds. When we dance, we find our feet again. We begin by walking around the room. We feel our toes on the ground. We feel the weight of our feet with every step we take. We notice all of the places our feet go, all of the different directions we can take them. We then move from looking at our own feet to bringing our awareness to all of the feet in the room. Keeping our gaze on the floor in front of us, the attention is on our feet and off of our minds. We do this for a few minutes, without any music. It becomes a moving mediation, bringing awareness to our bodies and to our breath. The words fall away and there is only the noise of footsteps and breathing. And then we pick up our gaze…



As soon as we do this, our minds start going in a million different directions. The voices inside our heads starts talking to us. We might try to fill the silence with words or awkward laughter. Even passing eye contact makes us feel uncomfortable. Without even realizing it, we hold our breath. We are suddenly out of our feet and out of the moment. But before we can wander too far from the moment, Jenny has us place a hand on our heart. When we feel our heart beat, we are brought back to present. We continue our walk...feeling our feet, our breath, and our heart beat. And then we are told to find a partner…



A thousand thoughts start filling our minds… What are we doing? Why do I need to find a partner? Will this be awkward? …We are told to face our partners and stand hand-to-hand with them. We can feel each other’s palms and finger tips. We begin to sweat a little bit. We look anywhere but in their eyes. Again, we are holding our breath. We want to fill the silence. We will say anything to make it less awkward. We feel vulnerable. Just when it can’t get any worse, Jenny tells us to look into each other’s eyes and hold the words. We can’t do it at first. We start laughing. Our minds treat it like a staring contest—we see if we can look at the person while we distract ourselves from feeling the awkwardness, showing the vulnerability, or experiencing the intimacy. Our minds will do anything to take us out of the moment and instead fill us with a thousand thoughts, worries, and insecurities… How do I look right now? What is the point of this? Does this person like me? Do I like me?



Why are we so uncomfortable with intimacy? Why does it scare us to let others know what we are feeling? And more importantly, why are we afraid to allow ourselves to feel what we really feel? We live in a culture where it is not okay to be angry, where asking for what you need makes you look “needy”, where responding with something other than “I’m good” when someone says, “How are you?” is giving way too much information. The dance becomes our chance to explore the depth of our souls and welcome every part of ourselves. As Jenny would say, “It’s not about turning the volume off on our minds. It’s about turning the volume up on our bodies.” When we really listen to our bodies, we learn that our bodies want to feel that intimacy. We yearn to be ourselves, to open our hearts, and to be loved for exactly who we are.



The time we spend looking into our partner’s eyes feels like forever. Jenny tells us to bend our knees, feel our feet on the ground, and breathe. We do this and begin to allow ourselves to be present and experience the moment. Through this person’s eyes, we see their stories—stories of joy, stories of gratitude, stories of sadness. We see their beauty. Regardless of their mistakes and their imperfections, we realize that nothing they could do could ever change the fact that they are beloved—that we are all beloved. When we experience moments like these, it is hard to believe that anything in the world could be more important. Why else would we be on this planet if not to live every moment authentically?



After this moment is over, we are told to offer gratitude to our partner without using words. During the first few dances, we would bow to each other, but as time went on, the bow became a minute-long hug that expressed more understanding and love than words could ever convey. When we separate from this person’s embrace, Jenny asks us if we feel any different. We become aware of how the body feels after it connects with another person. When we return to our walk, we feel a kind of energy and a love that I can only describe as something we spend our whole lives trying to find—a Love that sees us for exactly who we are and still loves us. What Jenny tells us is that this Love we search for is looking for us more than we are looking for it.



As the music plays, we realize that the dance started well before there was music. The music only mirrors the dance of our bodies. We let our feet move however they want to the music. We do a foot dance with someone else. When we dance with others, we can sometimes hold back or come away from our own dance. We are challenged to see how authentic our dance can be. As the music picks up, so does the movement of our bodies. We begin to move into our legs, and then up into our hips. The hips are a place we often avoid. But in the dance, we welcome them. We stand in one place and see how many ways we can move our hips.



Then the dance reaches its highest point. Every part of ourselves is brought into the dance, including our heads and our necks which are the last things that want to let go. We move in directions and ways we never thought we could move. The phrase “dance like no one’s watching” doesn’t even begin to describe it. There are ways you can “dance like you are crazy” and still look good doing it. And then there is that dance that you would do if you had no insecurities and all you knew was a beautiful, beloved body—that is what this dance looks like. For the few minutes we are at the peak of the dance, we allow every feeling we are having come to the surface. We welcome every part of our bodies—the parts we love and the parts that we criticize and judge. Every part of us moves through the beautiful process until we are so full or so empty that our bodies begin to slow down.



As the music slows, we come back to our walk. We place our hands on our hearts to stay close to the moment. And we come back to our feet and our breath. Eventually, we find a place on the floor—standing, sitting, lying down—whatever our body wants, and we come to stillness. We notice how our bodies want to react to stillness. Is it uncomfortable for us to be so intimate with ourselves? To sit with the emotions and the feelings that just came up for us? Or do we welcome the silence and the time we spend exploring ourselves with open hearts? I realize now that every dance is different. Sometimes we feel alive. Sometimes we feel lonely. We cry, we laugh… sometimes we don’t know what we are feeling. But every dance brings us home to our hearts.



As Jenny has told us many times, “spiritual dance” is only the vehicle we use to access the Big Love. Even the name “spiritual dance” was only given to the practice because people started calling it that on the ship. The beauty of the Big Love is that it exists inside each of us and it is waiting for us. Through our passion and through our creativity, we can spread that Love to the world.

My trip these last four months was filled with emotion. I experienced joy, fear, happiness, some of the most incredible moments and some of the hardest realities. I could not imagine a more meaningful way for me to process this journey than through the practice of dance with my wonderful shipmmates, particularly Jenny Finn. Best of all, it allowed me to visit one of the most beautiful and precious places I’ll ever see—and that is my heart. I learned that no matter where I go in life, as long as I put my feet on the ground, take a deep breath, and feel my heartbeat, I’m never that far from home.





On a separate note, Jenny will be auditioning for the Oprah Show. PLEASE VOTE FOR HER by going to, http://myown.oprah.com/audition/index.html?request=video_details&response_id=1764&promo_id=1

To see a great video of Spiritual Dance by Toby, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RA5zXHp8N3w

For Jenny's Videos, http://www.youtube.com/user/jennybfinn


And to see more of Jenny's work, visit her blog, http://movingmama.somamovement.org




*Photos taken by Oliver Wolfe

Amazon Riverboat Adventure

On our second day in Brazil, I left for my Amazon Riverboat adventure trip. I was in group D with 30 other people, but there were also 3 other groups of 30 who were on different riverboats. We arrived that night to a brightly lit, colorfully decorated, double-decker boat that was waiting for us to board. The bottom deck had a small kitchen, 2 bathrooms, and a few tables. The top deck was lined with hammocks for us to sleep on.

We were greeted by a woman who told us to call her “Lou Lou.” As the program leader, she was thrilled to have us there, especially since SAS has been doing this trip for over 20 years. She introduced us to the crew members who would be cooking our meals and the tour guides who would be teaching us about their native land. We also met two Brazilian dancers who were there to entertain us during dinner. They were dressed in their native clothing, which wasn’t much. Their performance was great. After a delicious meal, the dancers left, and we headed up to our hammocks for bed. Once our boat left the shore and we started sailing, one by one, everyone started to fall asleep. I knew this because it immediately became an orchestra of different snores. Luckily, I was jet lagged from all the traveling, so I had no trouble falling asleep… despite the loud snoring that seemed to be coming from every direction.





The next morning, I woke up feeling surprisingly well rested. Although some people didn’t think so, I thought the hammocks were extremely comfortable. I also don’t get sea sick so I loved the way that the waves rocked me right to sleep. Either way, it was the first time we were seeing the Amazon during the day so no one was complaining. It’s crazy how many times I’ve been on boats this semester. I hope I never take for granted the feeling of going to sleep in one place and waking up to a completely new scene. This trip was particularly special because our boat was so small and open. We didn’t have air conditioning to block out the sound of birds or shaded windows to keep out the natural sunlight. When we pulled up to shore, we could practically reach out and touch the tree branches.

We ate our breakfast while the boat pulled up to shore and then we headed out into the jungle for a hike. On our hike, we saw different plants and trees, as well as spiders, ants, and mosquitoes. Some of the plants and insects were poisonous, while others were okay to touch or eat. However, it was hard to differentiate between what was safe and what was dangerous because our tour guides had a sense of humor and found it hilarious to trick us. It was also difficult to hear them if we were in the back of the line. They would pass back a plant and someone would say, “You can eat this.” But then one of the tour guides would burst out laughing and say, “No that’s poisonous! It will stop your heart and kill you almost immediately!” Our guide would laugh and laugh, while we just stood there sort of dumbfounded. Someone should explain to them where to draw the line between what is appropriate to joke about and what is not. I think a good rule of thumb is if it’s a matter of life and death, you don’t joke. But that’s just my opinion.







After a few hours of trekking through the jungle we each had enough mosquito bites to play connect the dots on our bodies. I swear people’s bug bites were starting to look like constellations—I saw a row of bites on someone’s arm that looked like Orion’s belt. Let’s just hope those malaria pills did their jobs because the mosquitoes obviously weren’t scared off by the DEET we’d sprayed all over our bodies. Unfortunately, the expensive, cancer-causing DEET seemed to only scare away other humans who could practically taste the bug spray every time they came close to you. The only upside was that the DEET masked the body odor I’m sure we all had after a full day of traveling on buses and planes, a night of sleeping on hammocks while floating down a river, and a day of hiking through a jungle—all without showering. Did I mention that at this point we aren’t even halfway through the trip?




Later that day, we met up with another group and went swimming in the river. (I should probably clarify now that the river I’ve been talking about is the Negro River, not the Amazon River.) After, we took a small wooden boat to a local village where we visited a man who makes the wooden boats. We watched him for a few minutes and then went over to the elementary school where we were given a tour. It goes without saying that I spent hours chasing the little kids around, trying to talk to them in Spanish. (Yes, I know they speak Portuguese… And yes, I quickly realized that the languages are not as similar as I had thought… Or more likely, my Spanish was not as good as I had thought.) Lucky for everyone, I stopped trying to communicate with the kids when I was asked to play soccer, a trip tradition. We played a pretty serious match—SAS women vs. Brazilian women. Even though some of the Brazilian women were not as young or as fit as us, and none of them were wearing shoes, they had some pretty fancy footwork and put up a good fight. But for reasons other than my own contributions, (apparently my 6th grade soccer skills didn’t come back to me as fast I would’ve hoped) the American team won for the first time in 9 years!








When we got back to the beach where our ship was docked, there was a barbeque waiting for us. Soon after, fireworks started going off. After dinner, we went alligator hunting. I’ll save you from getting your hopes up now… we never caught anything. But I have to mention what an awesome jungle badass my guide was—standing barefoot on the front of our small wooden boat, chopping away with his machete to clear the stray branches… even scratching his back with his knife—all while making special noises to attract the alligators. I’m not sure what I was more afraid of—the alligators or the knife that my guide kept swinging awfully close to my face.
The next morning, we went Piranha fishing off of the small wooden boats. Luckily, someone did catch one… And it was pretty big too! We each took turns holding it by the string and looking at its teeth. (I think it might have been one of the fish we were served at dinner that night, but I’m trying not to think about it.) After, we visited another village and learned how they make their special flour, a staple ingredient to their community.






The last thing we did on the riverboats was visit the “Meeting of the Waters.” This is the point where the Amazon River and the Negro River meet. You can actually see the line where they touch, but don’t mix together. The Amazon River is a dirty-looking, light brown color, while the Negro River is a much clearer dark blue. Not only are they completely different colors, but they also differ in temperature, velocity, and pH—a phenomena beyond my comprehension.




We left our riverboat and met up with the other groups. Luckily, we were one of the only groups who hadn’t gotten sick. And I mean deathly sick… throwing up for 10 hours straight. Before we all headed to the airport, they had a party for us with music and Brazilian dance performers. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be in the mood for this. Several people were sick, all of us were tired, and most of us hadn’t showered in 3 days… We were ready to go back to the ship. However, part of me didn’t want to leave, knowing it was the last time I’d be off the ship before heading home to Ft. Lauderdale.