A Year Later
Hey everyone! It's crazy to think that it's been a year since I got back into the states. Since then, I've decided to take yet another gap year. I've moved into my very own studio apartment in downtown Tacoma, I work at Trader Joe's, I do photography on the side, and of course on most days "I'm living the dream."
"What was your favorite part" or "What was your favorite meal" are the two most common questions I'd get when I first came home (and to be honest, I got those same questions last week). No one ever asks "What was the most difficult part of your trip?" If you know me well enough, you already know the story and if you don't, consider reading the rest of this post, it's lengthy I'm aware.
If I told you how many times I have tried to piece this blog post together, you probably wouldn't believe me. I've logged onto this site on numerous times redrafting and trying to compose my thoughts about an incident that took place on my gap year. My Cambodia post was scheduled to go live the first week of February while we were in Ghana. Like all of my blog posts, I had it all planned out. However, life doesn't always go according to plan and before I had time to complete those final edits, we lost a member of our group. I've quite honestly spent the last year wondering how could I finish up my blog posts, share my stories, and photos. It came down to three questions: do I skip over what happened, do I leave the blog behind, or do I wait over a year to get it together? Well here I am, a year later, going for it.
When researching gap year programs, they talk about the not so pretty things: homesickness, hospital visits, lost luggage, etc. I quite honestly thought we'd been through it all: hospital visits, quirky home stay families, home sickness, a student leaving, the leech hike (where I thought I had hit my lowest of lows). From trying new foods such as scorpions to becoming a morning person (only on travel days). I felt as if I was constantly pushing myself out of my safety zone and into my learning zone. However, nothing could've prepared a group of twenty close-knit people who spend every waking moment together for what happened. The week leading up to Sebastian passing away was a whirlwind. We were making our final arrangements to go to Cape Coast that weekend. Half of our group was an hour into the bus ride when we got the call that we needed to turn around. My heart rate accelerated as I feared the worst. When we finally got back to the base we received another call confirming that he was no longer with us. It felt like I had gotten the wind knocked out of me. How could someone who had sang me Santeria less then 24 hours ago be gone? It wasn't over for my roommate and I. Being that we were the last two people to see him alive, we had to make official statements at the police station which was one of the scariest moments of my life. That week we mourned, watched movie after movie, smoked cigarettes, and did anything to pass the time. My room mate ended up leaving the program a few days later which furthered the pain. The thing about having 20 best friends that live across the United States is you never know when you're going to see them again and it can feel lonely at times. How would I continue to process what had just happened alone?
As we prepared a memorial before leaving Ghana, I went through every group member's flash drive scouring for photos of our friend. Opening up each file was released the floodgates of tears once again. It took me quite a while to get through all the photos. As I have mentioned in previous blog posts, the camera I had brought on the trip broke within the first week. It took a serious toll on my mental well being as I thought my creativity was being brushed aside. It would work on and off throughout , but I eventually needed to purchase a new camera in Thailand. The fact that I had a camera back in my hands was the sole reason I stayed on the program and I was more determined to take photos and document all the little things. Looking back on those photo shoots with Sebastian, I am so glad I did. Those shoots remind me of the happiness and that is what I am choosing to remember. I am letting go of the hurt that came later. That week I learned that photography was more than it had ever meant to me before and that each photo on my hard drive was precious. I am not saying that photography healed me but it continues to help heal my heart and has been a huge part of my grieving process. The good times on the trip far outweighed the bad and I don't want my trip to be defined by one day or one incident. I waited a year to get my photos printed and it helped to put those happy memories up on my apartment walls. That week, I'd wake up drenched in sweat and tears and I wanted to be out of Ghana more than anything in the world. Luckily, a week later we arrived in Morocco. Life didn't get easier once we got to Morocco, but it did feel better.
I am writing this more than a year later and I have stopped multiple times to cry and that's okay. Opening up my laptop and writing this is just another way for me to find closure.
To my fellow students on Thinking Beyond Borders Global Gap Year of 2017, I love y'all with my whole heart :)
- Disney Clare
"What was your favorite part" or "What was your favorite meal" are the two most common questions I'd get when I first came home (and to be honest, I got those same questions last week). No one ever asks "What was the most difficult part of your trip?" If you know me well enough, you already know the story and if you don't, consider reading the rest of this post, it's lengthy I'm aware.
If I told you how many times I have tried to piece this blog post together, you probably wouldn't believe me. I've logged onto this site on numerous times redrafting and trying to compose my thoughts about an incident that took place on my gap year. My Cambodia post was scheduled to go live the first week of February while we were in Ghana. Like all of my blog posts, I had it all planned out. However, life doesn't always go according to plan and before I had time to complete those final edits, we lost a member of our group. I've quite honestly spent the last year wondering how could I finish up my blog posts, share my stories, and photos. It came down to three questions: do I skip over what happened, do I leave the blog behind, or do I wait over a year to get it together? Well here I am, a year later, going for it.
When researching gap year programs, they talk about the not so pretty things: homesickness, hospital visits, lost luggage, etc. I quite honestly thought we'd been through it all: hospital visits, quirky home stay families, home sickness, a student leaving, the leech hike (where I thought I had hit my lowest of lows). From trying new foods such as scorpions to becoming a morning person (only on travel days). I felt as if I was constantly pushing myself out of my safety zone and into my learning zone. However, nothing could've prepared a group of twenty close-knit people who spend every waking moment together for what happened. The week leading up to Sebastian passing away was a whirlwind. We were making our final arrangements to go to Cape Coast that weekend. Half of our group was an hour into the bus ride when we got the call that we needed to turn around. My heart rate accelerated as I feared the worst. When we finally got back to the base we received another call confirming that he was no longer with us. It felt like I had gotten the wind knocked out of me. How could someone who had sang me Santeria less then 24 hours ago be gone? It wasn't over for my roommate and I. Being that we were the last two people to see him alive, we had to make official statements at the police station which was one of the scariest moments of my life. That week we mourned, watched movie after movie, smoked cigarettes, and did anything to pass the time. My room mate ended up leaving the program a few days later which furthered the pain. The thing about having 20 best friends that live across the United States is you never know when you're going to see them again and it can feel lonely at times. How would I continue to process what had just happened alone?
As we prepared a memorial before leaving Ghana, I went through every group member's flash drive scouring for photos of our friend. Opening up each file was released the floodgates of tears once again. It took me quite a while to get through all the photos. As I have mentioned in previous blog posts, the camera I had brought on the trip broke within the first week. It took a serious toll on my mental well being as I thought my creativity was being brushed aside. It would work on and off throughout , but I eventually needed to purchase a new camera in Thailand. The fact that I had a camera back in my hands was the sole reason I stayed on the program and I was more determined to take photos and document all the little things. Looking back on those photo shoots with Sebastian, I am so glad I did. Those shoots remind me of the happiness and that is what I am choosing to remember. I am letting go of the hurt that came later. That week I learned that photography was more than it had ever meant to me before and that each photo on my hard drive was precious. I am not saying that photography healed me but it continues to help heal my heart and has been a huge part of my grieving process. The good times on the trip far outweighed the bad and I don't want my trip to be defined by one day or one incident. I waited a year to get my photos printed and it helped to put those happy memories up on my apartment walls. That week, I'd wake up drenched in sweat and tears and I wanted to be out of Ghana more than anything in the world. Luckily, a week later we arrived in Morocco. Life didn't get easier once we got to Morocco, but it did feel better.
I am writing this more than a year later and I have stopped multiple times to cry and that's okay. Opening up my laptop and writing this is just another way for me to find closure.
To my fellow students on Thinking Beyond Borders Global Gap Year of 2017, I love y'all with my whole heart :)
- Disney Clare
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