Final blog by Roman and Olivia

Day 12 (4/7) -- By Roman and Olivia

“Be where your feet are”

Throughout our time here we’ve picked up little bits of community lingo. “Be where your feet are”, is a phrase, introduced to us by Liz, that we often throw around to each other. The sentiment that this phrase is supposed to convey is along the lines of ‘Live in the moment’, ‘Be present’, and ‘Carpe Diem’. In our last days here, I’ve found myself hearing this phrase from myself and from my classmates exponentially more than before. The first few days of our trip felt like they lasted a few weeks, but once April 3^rd came around my perception of time changed radically; suddenly I was desperate for time to move slower. Today provided many opportunities to meditate on that phrase, “Be where your feet are”. At Lakeside we are always thinking about what’s happening next, whether it’s a meeting to attend or assignment to turn in; we are always trying to plan ahead. However, here we never quite know what will happen in the future, and whenever we ask, Liz tells us to be where our feet are. Though we had thought at the beginning of today that we would be snorkeling at three different locations, the conditions of the water resulted in us only being able to fully explore one place: an ooid beach on an uninhibited island off Eleuthera. (Editor's notes: please see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ooid -- "Ooids are small (commonly ≤2 mm in diameter), spheroidal, "coated" (layered) sedimentary grains, usually composed of calcium carbonate, but sometimes made up of iron- or phosphate-based minerals. Ooids usually form on the sea floor, most commonly in shallow tropical seas (around the Bahamas, for example, or in the Persian Gulf)". ). We stayed at this beach for hours, observing the unique properties of the sand, listening to music, and spotting stingrays in the water. Though we missed out on one of the planned snorkel activities, we were all given an equally important opportunity to relax and explore an area of the island self-directed. Going to the Schooner Cay beach gave me both the chance to become more comfortable with not knowing what’s happening next, and the time to feel present in nature and fully appreciate the sun, land, water, marine organisms, and people around me. Afterwards, I didn’t feel so desperate to memorize everything I saw, and savor every last moment in preparation for our departure. Instead I felt gratitude, relief, and most of all I felt okay with the fact that we wouldn’t be able to stay here on Eleuthera forever. When we are back in Seattle I know it will be tempting to think about all the future decisions that’ll have to be made and the future goodbyes that’ll have to be said, but my goal is to continually remind myself to enjoy the present and be where my feet are.

-- Roman

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I know everyone says “time flies” for a reason and I knew the trip was going to come to an end in the blink of the eye and yet it still surprised me.

We started the day at High Rock, intending on jumping off the edge as a culminating morning experience. And, in almost fitting manner, nature had other plans in store for us (a.k.a low tides that made it too shallow to jump safely) that just further demonstrated the unpredictability of the environment we’ve immersed ourselves in during this trip. We were still able to snorkel though, and I was grateful to have one more morning swim before we left (and we saw a lionfish!!).

Knowing Liz, we were certainly not going out without a bang and our schedule certainly mirrored that sentiment. After our morning adventure, we departed for our trip on the Reef Rat, our trusty steed, armed with field lunches, snorkel gear and a copious amount of sun protection. Big swells lent itself to roughly conditions and we ultimately made the decision not to visit Tunnel Rock, one of the reef sites. We did, however, make it to the coral nursery where we saw the coral restoration work in-progress. Did you know that coral only grows roughly a centimeter a year? I definitely did not. I think that just puts into perspective how important and time consuming saving these coral reef ecosystems can be. Thus, seeing the metal trees of coral growing (particularly the staghorn coral I studied in class) created a little bright spot of hope.

Roman touched briefly on our time at the ooid island and I second her thoughts on our time spent there—it was incredible and I was very grateful to have been able to sit, be present, and soak up some of the last minutes of true peace before we embarked on our journey home.

After we got back to campus, we visited Joseph’s farm in the bush down the road. For context, Joseph is a remarkable human with a remarkable story. Originally from Haiti, he came to the Bahamas in a small sailboat (~ten feet by twenty feet) without documentation, leaving his children and the rest of his family behind. Eventually, he ended up farming a plot of land for a family in exchange for money. Years passed, his employers passed away, and he ended up with the land as no one else knew it as well as he did. He started working at the Island School sometime after and the rest is history. Except not quite. The work that Joseph does is back-breaking. After biking to the farm in the morning, he stashes his bike in the bush and catches a ride to campus. Then, after working at the school until 2ish (helping with the farm there), he gets dropped off at the farm where he works for another two to three hours. The landscape is also difficult to work with—clearing and farming the land takes an incredible amount of manpower and Joseph is the only one working there. He grows crops based on the seasons, anything from bananas to cassava to beans to watermelon to squash. We visited right at the end of tomato season and we tried some of the ones left on the vine. They were delicious. Absolutely the best tomatoes I’ve had, hands down. As we drove away and the trail to his farm disappeared into the distance, I was so genuinely grateful I’d heard his story. I’ve never met someone who works so hard and he always does it with a smile on his face—an outlook from which there is much to be learned.

After dinner, we had a bonfire on the beach, our big going-away celebration. As part of our culminating reflective exercise, we all shared our high (our favorite moment), low (our biggest challenge), hero (someone who really helped us) and seaglass (what we would be taking back from our trip). The collective vulnerability that followed was incredibly impactful and was such a valuable way to end the trip. Though the individual experiences were different, we all were able to learn a ton and were so thankful for the opportunities the island provided us with. Add that to the marshmallow roasting to the sound of lapping waves, and you have a perfect way to end an incredible trip.

--- Olivia