Sunday morning, as we were getting ready to disembark the Adonia after a weeklong cruise to the Dominican Republic, I fought tears. And the tears won. I’d fallen in love with the sea, rocking me to sleep, bringing us in most primordial way possible to our destination. I’d fallen in love with this “small” old boat and it’s old English glamor. I’d fallen in love with the captain’s gentle and friendly voice, announcing various things in his lilting English accent during the day. I’d fallen in love with unplugging, as time stretched and morphed like clouds that lolled along side us. I’d fallen a little bit more in love with my boyfriend, seeing his warmth and intelligence in a new way as he worked alongside local people and taught English to a family. I fell a little bit more in love with the idea that I could do more good in the world, and that I could be a better mom and a better person through service to those who need it most.
I was invited on this Fathom trip and reserved the right to be skeptical about a major corporation — Carnival is the umbrella — touting its commitment to “fix” a country. And, as it happens in any new venture, there were glitches in logistics. There were deep disconnects in the environmental tone of the journey as well (I would have liked to see water-bottles on every bed and filling stations around the boat, information about the food sustainability quotient, composting, as well waste-prevention signage in the buffet along the lines of “We hope you love the food! Take only what you’ll eat, and come back for more if you’d like.” I wanted the boat’s office paper to go to the women’s recycling collective, as well as a way to ensure that all the plastic water bottles given out at the activities were not going to be dumped into the woods later on.) But as I settled in and got my hands dirty planting trees, making chocolate at a women’s collective, creating beautiful creamy paper from recycled office sheets, and meeting locals, I realized that yes, even the small things I did had an impact. And together, we are so strong. On our trip, about 300 other passengers and myself:
- Produced 100 water filters for families who are frequently sick from water-borne illnesses, missing school and work in the process. The filters, made from clay, sawdust and silver, will last about five years each.
- Made 1,500 sheets of paper at RePapel, a women’s recycling initiative that will become stationary, invitations, business cards and art paper.
- Taught English to 273 community members and 405 students. English is critical to getting a good job in this tourism-dependent country.
- Planted 405 seedlings that, over time, will help improve soil, air and water quality and to provide habitat for birds and animals.
- Cleaned 532 pounds of organic chocolate nibs and wrapped 10,300 candy bars for Chocal, a women’s chocolate collective that allows single moms economic power they are unable to get in other ways.
- Poured concrete floors in five homes. Many of the houses in the Dominican Republic have dirt floors, which lead to illness when families sleep on them. Materials are paid for by the families and travelers donate the labor.
This isn’t the kind of cruise you’d take if you want to stuff yourself with crab legs, play craps and take in a Vegas-style show and get burned to a crisp by the pool. You could do that on pretty much any other boat. In fact, there’s none of that on board the Adonia (except for the pool part). But if you are interested in making the world better than you found it–and frankly, making yourself better than you are now–it might be one of the most meaningful ways to spend your vacation dollars possible. Because even though it’s only a week out of your life, you’ll start a wave that could go on forever, across the world.