As many of you likely already know, a fellow gypsy recently made the choice to go to the press a few days ago voicing his concerns about our ongoing situation. The story is – not unexpectedly – spreading like wildfire and last I heard had even been picked up by Good Morning America.
To say I am of two minds about this would be a drastic understatement. On the one hand, I am quietly proud of him for being brave enough to do such a thing; it obviously means a lot to him and it does get the fact that we do still exist out there. That may end up to be a good thing.
On the other hand, I am utterly incensed and would like to clarify that the induvial in question does not speak for all of us. Yes, in some elements the picture that is painted in the interviews is accurate: we are lonely, we are homesick, we are stressed and many of us feel forgotten and trapped.
We do, desperately, just want to go home.
However, I feel compelled to point out that we are also comfortable. We are extremely well taken care of, both emotionally (as best as the onboard management team can manage while mitigating the ongoing storm of emotions that goes with a situation like this. As much as anyone is emotionally comfortable these days), and physically. We have access to luxuries that people on land have not had for weeks or longer. I was even able to get a renewal on my prescription! We are by far better off than many, I would almost go so far as to say most.
And yes, there are fish heads on the menu, but they are far from the only things on the menu. There is a carvery (with a different roast dish every day), there are veggies, and fruit and fresh smoothies. I have pasta with probably too much frequency. We are far from being forced to eat nothing but curries and leftovers. My only complaint about the food? It’s a little on the salty side.
Are we happy? No, not really. Are we miserable all the time? No not really. The truth is we’re probably somewhere in the middle. And everyone deals with everything differently, right now, I am hoping that everyone is trying their best to cut everyone else a huge amount of slack. However, the article presented in the press makes it sound a bit more like we are being held prisoner, when in reality – though I will acknowledge that I often do feel trapped here – it is less a case of a prison sentence and more a case of the company trying their best to get us home while not getting much in the way of assistance and keeping us here where we are safe and comfortable and cared for while they do their best to resolve a terribly difficult situation.
If this was a prison? It would probably be pretty close to what is lovingly called “club fed”.
I am not normally a “company girl” and have been known to be quite the opposite. But in this case, I really do think they are doing a fantastic job with us, and I try to keep in the fore of my mind that at least we are safe. That’s not always easy, and sometimes I have to refocus my mind on it several times a day, but that doesn’t make it any less true.
For myself, I have up moments and down moments, and have learned to take things not just one day at a time, but one hour at a time. Sometimes five minutes at a time. On some days Amras and I can have long complex discussions ranging from politics and the nature of the human animal and back again. On others? We only have the energy to lie back and watch a completely mindless comedy. And both of those are okay. Both of those are valid.
One other thing that I think is very important in all of this: I know how worried some of you are for us. Many of you will see past the pretty words and to the between-the-lines level where it becomes obvious that I am tired, I am worn thin and I am scared. I will own all of those things. They are a part of who I am as much as the good days. I appreciate your long distance support and concern more than you can possibly know. But what I ask of you is this: do not just be worried for me, or even just for Amras and I. Do not just focus your concern on those few of us you know…
Worry for all of us. All 592 of us on this ship, all 80,000+ of us sailing around in limbo. All of us. Not just the Canadians, not just the Americans or any other nationality. But all of us. Out here, in this moment, there aren’t really any nationalities, there’s just…”the ship people”…and every one of them deserves an equal amount of concern…and worry…and love, from anyone who can give it.
Always good to know you guys are safe. More than anything.