Katie Eppley
One quarter of the world's students
Photo: Biomes Participant
To me there exist just seventeen students in the entire world. My name is Katie and I’m one twentieth of the “Biomes Group,” seventeen students and three professors that hail from a very small liberal arts college in Hiram, Ohio. We’re lucky to be a part of this extraordinary group. At youngest 19 and oldest 23, this group of college students mostly studies biology. We’ve been traveling together for the past eighty days, almost three full months. At any given moment on any given day, I am in the close presence of at least one if not all of these colleagues. We have our own world that exists not with, but parallel to the one we left at home. We share a story so unique and complex, it’s hard to believe it’s really happening.
One year ago we were accepted into a study abroad program appropriately titled “Biomes of the World.” With blind anticipation, I waited anxiously for the pre-departure classes to begin. The trip is composed of twelve weeks spent circling the globe. Starting in Alaska and working our way through Hawaii, Thailand, India, the Maldives, the United Arab Emirates, Egypt, Turkey, and Germany (phew), we were to experience the environmental biomes found in different locations. All of this traveling on top of three classes’ workload. One course is focused on the biomes and humans’ influence on them and the environment. Another incorporates writing into our ultimate field biology adventure. We are to record and write essays inspired by our experiences on the trip. The third course is a unique combination of science and literature, where we are to read and learn about different writings relating to science.
In the fall semester of my sophomore year at Hiram College, we met for an hour once a week in a cozy nook of the science building. This one hour commitment wasn’t very long considering my already busy schedule for cross country, band, work and classes. We prepared best as possible, but I still came to the airport the day we left with no solid expectations other than complete and total uncertainty of what would happen. I was nervous, to say the least, but ready.
After settling into our first lodging in Alaska, a charming log cabin right off the coast of the Pacific Ocean, I realized that I felt somewhat alone. It seemed as though everybody had somebody, and I was on my own in the group. I knew other students, but I didn’t have any close friends that I was comfortable sharing my emotions with. I counted the days and secretly longed for my friends at home.
We woke up every day in Alaska to hear whales and see the overwhelmingly beautiful view of the mountains from a spot just 100 meters from our front door. The snow was four feet high and our chimney gently puffed smoke into the frozen air. I would tear myself out of my bed, thinking about my nights’ dreams and walk outside. At times, I had to remind myself to appreciate my surroundings. Only a few days into the three month expedition, our professor Denny said something that changed me, “You can’t go home until you’ve left home.” It’s such a simple idea, almost laughable, but then I realized how directly it affected me. I hadn’t left home.
It was something I had to overcome, the idea that at home, life was happening without me, and that it was okay. I didn’t need to be concerned with everyday happenings at Hiram, home, or with my friends. An update once in a while would suffice. I grew closer to each person in the “Biomes Group,” creating new friendships and building up old ones. After eighty days, I felt so connected with my peers and professors, that it was strange to imagine life at home again. We made it through dirty, crowded streets in Thailand, survived long train rides in India, and watched after each other snorkeling in Hawaii and the Maldives. We became a family, who laughed together and argued, but always remembering that to us, for eighty days, we were the only 17 students in the entire world.
Katie Eppley
eppleyka at my.hiram.edu
last updated 27 October 2008
Banner Photo by Mathew J. Wilson