
During French class my sophomore year of college, I overheard a classmate talking about how she had traveled to Vietnam, Morocco, and other parts of the francophone world. Intrigued, I asked her after class how she managed to do all of that during the academic year. That’s when I first heard about Semester at Sea.
A quick Google search turned into an application that very evening—I just had to do it. When I was accepted into the program, I was overjoyed. Three months later, I found myself embarking on the trip of a lifetime.
At the time, I didn’t know I was an introvert. I just knew I felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of new faces I’d be sharing my life with for the next three months. But slowly, organically, I formed friendships that have lasted nearly two decades. These people became the heart of the journey, challenging me, opening my mind, and showing me sides of myself I hadn’t yet met.
Back then, cruise ships didn’t have internet access, which, in hindsight, was a blessing. Without distractions, we grew closer, bonding over study halls, meals, spontaneous drum circles with instruments we’d collected in Ghana and Morocco, and once-in-a-lifetime celebrations like crossing the equator and prime meridian at exactly 0° 0°.

We celebrated Halloween with makeshift costumes, thousands of miles from the nearest costume store. We shared stories, culture, and faith. It wasn’t just about where we went—it was about when we went. We were relatively young, malleable, and naturally more impressionable. I’ve traveled more extensively since then, but I’ve never quite recaptured that same sense of wonder.
On this voyage, I realized I wasn’t as picky an eater as I had assumed: I just hadn’t experienced the right foods yet. I tasted new flavors, met incredible people — astronauts, entrepreneurs, and students from the various ports we visited — and attended my first music festival, Electric Picnic, in Ireland. I took an astronomy class and spent a night under the stars, with all ship lights turned off, marveling at the universe in a way I never could have living in cities my whole life. That sleepover on deck will forever be etched in my memory.
There were also moments of chaos and responsibility, like nearly missing the ship in England after an ill-planned trip to Stonehenge (ironically, one of the earliest markers of time). We had to hitchhike back with a kind couple who drove us two hours to the port. We made it – barely- but were penalized in the next port, Belgium, by having to stay onboard longer than the rest of our peers. A repercussion that was well deserved!

We took classes on the ship, but in each country we visited, we were mostly free to explore, though sometimes our coursework took us on unforgettable field trips, like a visit to the Nike factory in Vietnam for my international business class, attending dozens of places of workshop to complement our World Religions course, or meeting social entrepreneurs for a course on social enterprise. We joined religious communities for worship in South Africa and visited patients in Cape Town. These weren’t just classes: they were real-life immersions.
I ended up joining Semester at Sea again, this time with a clearer purpose. On my first voyage, I had scribbled the words “A Table for Two” in a notebook: an early seed of an idea that would become Kitchen Connection. On the second voyage, which had a focus on design thinking and social impact, I brought that idea to life.
This second trip was less carefree, but far more enriching. Together, we witnessed joy, grief, beauty, and truth. I focused less on sightseeing and more on the journey within—exploring how this experience could support my emerging vision for Kitchen Connection. What began as a passion for human rights grew to encompass food as a vehicle for connection, empowerment, and change.

Semester at Sea taught me how to explore with intention, live with curiosity, and find purpose in unexpected places. From building homes for people while it rained to navigating through different places without a phone to translate or to guide, It was an opportunity that made me more comfortable with discomfort — how to deeply appreciate a sunset when internet connectivity on a voyage like this was still a dream — how to conduct research internationally with a keen awareness of how to approach these exchanges with respect and an acknowledgement of cultural differences. It was on SAS, through my international nutrition course that I understood how government subsidies and global trade as it relates to fruits and vegetables impacts human health and overall quality of life: I saw – and tasted – the impact of the price fluctuations in different firsthand.
In many ways, it was during that voyage that my (travel) life truly began.
Semester at Sea changed me. That change is inevitable for anyone who embarks on it—but for me, those collective 7 months on a ship, it didn’t just shape my worldview; it reshaped my path. I’m so excited to finally share it with you, with the hope that you, too—regardless of how big or small your journey may be, whether it’s external or internal—will listen to the voice within, propelling you forward toward your own adventure.
The posts that follow will be a reflection and celebration of some of the most unforgettable moments from these voyages.
I hope you enjoy them.
With Gratitude,
Earlene
