Connections, Constellations, and a Mediocre Lesson In World Peace

By Meghan Smith

This travel journal follows the journey of 24 students with National Geographic Student Expeditions in the summer of 2016. In it are their stories, memories, places, and experiences that they shared during a three week excursion through Italy and Greece. Follow them through Rome, Pompeii, Athens, and more cities as they stumble their way through language barriers, over uneven city streets, and to eight different cities in their time abroad.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meghan Smith
• Release date: Apr 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370086504

Meghan Smith

Aspiring author, 18, USA

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Connections, Constellations, and a Mediocre Lesson in World Peace

By Meghan Smith

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Published by MEGHAN SMITH

Copyright © 2018 by Meghan L. Smith

Dedicated to

The 23 people

Who became my best friends,

My family,

And my favorite memories.

Here’s to you.

Preface

I was a junior in high school when one of my teachers asked my honesty, asking me to create my personal manifesto, fill it with statements no one else but I believed in, and show my honest self, no questions asked. There weren’t many immediate beliefs I had aside from,

Nap daily. I say this because, as a high school senior, I definitely do not get as much sleep as is healthy. I use my free afternoons that I have less workload to catch up on these missing hours. It also has been proven to benefit emotions, attention spans, and drive.

Use sarcasm as a second language. Do this to generate more humor in the world. People need to laugh, and often the best way to do that is through slight humor and facetiousness. Don’t use it maliciously, use it as a bonding tool.

It took close to three weeks to finally hone in on some of my manifestos, but one certainly spoke more clearly than the others. I ranted for two pages on the ability to lose yourself in a place, new or old. I ranted on about how pathways turn into maps etched in the prints of your hand and every poetic and saccharine word I wrote was as honest and true as I could muster.

In the summer of 2016 I was chosen among twenty something other people to travel to Italy and Greece studying writing, photography, and history with National Geographic Student Expeditions. Undeniably, deciding to go for this opportunity was one of the best decisions I made.

The way I found the National Geographic expeditions page was more comical than inspirational. I was complaining to my parents the winter of my sophomore year in high school about how bothered I was that I had to wait four or five years until I could study abroad in college, and how I was so fed up that I couldn’t just go now. My parents listened to me rant about my stir-crazy tendencies, understanding my frustrations. Meanwhile, my father was sitting across the living room, typing into his computer for high school study abroad opportunities.

The truly ironic part of this whole endeavor, was that I explicitly said I wish National Geographic had something during school breaks since ultimately, working for NatGeo is something I would love to do. Unexpected to me, the exact thing I wanted was just a Google search away.

I wanted to apply that afternoon we found NGSE, there were just two problems with that desire. First of all, my parents hit the brakes in the conversation after looking at the four-figure price tag on the whole trip (airfare not included). Secondly, the 2016 session dates weren’t even posted, so I had to wait until the new year came around and the office of admissions posted the updated session dates for the upcoming year.

Growing up in a family of Type A personalities, I took off in a downward nosedive of research, number crunching, and planning. I searched for different trips that were cheaper, but that often meant larger, more tourist-like groups. I searched for shorter trips, but that often led to no educational focus. I tried brainstorming fundraising ideas and adding together savings. After a seemingly eternal dump of knowledge onto my parents at dinner one night, they agreed to let me at least apply, who knew what would come of it.

Perhaps unluckily for them, I was accepted in February. That four-figure price tag was diminished with months of working with my mother at her office, putting business card information into a computer database. I owe everything to my parents for allowing me to take this on, and I certainly would have never asked about this trip again if they turned it down the first time. My father was a lot like me though, and once he found out I was accepted, he was equally as obsessed with researching the areas, looking at itineraries, and showing me pictures of these cities.

The difference between NGSE and other abroad trips, was that it was education-based rather than just tourism. When you applied, you'd be sorted into one of the three groups going, whether it was creative writing, photography, or culture and history. During the three weeks there, you would be asked to complete a final project based on what you learned in your group. Photography students would be tasked with taking pictures throughout the entire trip, creative writing students would be documenting each of their days, and the culture students would be researching any historical information they came across on our exploration. I was drawn to the structure of NGSE strictly because I would get more out of it than just ordinary tourist groups.

Thus, began months of packing lists, shopping trips, endless Pinterest hacks to save space in my luggage. My mother told me to relax more days than one, but I couldn’t lose my momentum. I dove into books about the area, picked up a mythology class in spring semester, downloaded a language translation app onto my phone. Now that I think back on those months, I’m not sure what else I filled my time with other than thinking about the day I got to leave.

Yet NGSE was more than a fun trip I had to look forward to. This was my first time away from home for an extended amount of time. This would be my first time travelling alone, my first time to Greece, my first time truly independent from my family. Truth be told, I was equal parts excited as I was terrified. The closer we got to our departure day, the more my nerves got the best of me. I triple checked my packing list, I packed and repacked my suitcase countless times, I counted out my money to make sure none had gone missing since the last time I checked.

When it was time to leave, my suitcase was filled to the brim with compression bags of clothes, toiletries, towels, and enough sunscreen to supply a small armada. This was not including what was in my backpack for the flight over (which also contained enough junk food and reality T.V. downloads to supply a small armada).

The departure flight left from John F. Kennedy airport in late June, which was already roughly a four-hour drive from my home state of New Hampshire. Still, my parents were incredible enough to drive me all the way there and bid me goodbye as they dropped me with other lost teenagers wearing our certified NatGeo Student Expeditions t-shirts.

This story is the memories made, jokes told, accidents had, laughs shared, and journey taken between the twenty-four of us. It’s not a travel memoir, diary, or personal narrative. It’s simply the story of how strangers turned to friends, then turned to family.

Rome

There is a theory dating back to a scientist much more intelligent than myself, who stated that everything on this earth is connected in some way to one another, called the Connected Universe Theory. Most of us had never thought of this theory until we boarded the plane that day, or perhaps even after then. Each one of us, hailing from twenty-four different towns and cities were connections to back home, to each other, and to the exciting places that awaited us.

Our first moments together were spent with rushed introductions and an ever-growing game of Uno in the middle of the airport on a sticky summer day. We sat together for an hour, our circle growing only larger and more obnoxious to passerby, but we never took notice. Over time my anxiety of being on my own melted away, despite not truly knowing any of these people. Katie had the same laugh as my best friend back home. Will made the same corny jokes as my brothers. Already I noticed connections.

Twenty-three introductions and a sleepless eight-hour flight later, we ventured into the breezy Rome air. It’s no exaggeration when travelers and poets tell you that each new country you visit is a breath of fresh air. The smell of tart cigars and lemon trees lingered in my lungs, but I didn’t mind the twisted concoction.

Half of us got separated in the clustered airport all because of a broken suitcase zipper and a dozen generous hands. Together, we bonded over anxious laughs and poor Italian accents as we struggled to find our way back to the group. After a short jog through the bustling lobby, we reunited on the humid sidewalk outside. One by one we stuffed our suitcases under the bus and climbed on quickly. The bus seats were the same vibrant and deep a blue as my bed comforter back home.

In the moments from airport to hostel, we talked about our hometowns and