Programs Blog

Thu Sep 12, 2024

Sea Education Association campus, Woods Hole, MA

Clear, 67˚ F

My name is Raquel Cuatrecasas, proudly born and raised in Mexico and currently a student at University of San Diego. This is the story on how I got to SEA.

I decided to walk to the bus station from Hyannis airport, but I realized I would not be on time to catch the bus. I opened the Uber app, hoping my debit card would go through. It did, but the Uber was taking longer than I thought. I had big chances to miss the bus. “A tear, a smile, and move on,” I said to myself. The Uber arrived, and I made him speed. We reached the station at the exact minute the bus was leaving, and as soon as we got out of the car, the driver grabbed my two backpacks and yelled at me, “Run and catch it!” Adrenaline kicked in, and I stopped the bus driver from pulling away. Suddenly, I glanced back and saw neither the Uber driver nor my backpacks. I was about to untie the knot that was holding my tears a minute ago, but I heard his voice. I turned around and saw a disabled man hopping along trying to catch up with me. I thanked him four times, and I still think it wasn’t enough. 

When I got to Falmouth Jen [Borderud, director of student life] was sitting on the sidewalk waiting for me. There was something about her outfit, her voice or the conversation we had that silenced the warning alarm that had been buzzing in my head since the first flight. I took a deep breath and felt safe for the first time. 

As I arrived to SEA a wave of calmness wrapped and sank the nerves and fear I was feeling. There were five houses trapping stories between their walls, and a small building right in front of them, where the classes were taught. The campus was quiet, as I arrived a night before everyone. The only people at SEA were Sydney and Talia, our Program Assistants. They met me in a state of exhaustion, hunger, and in need of a shower (not the last time they will see me like that.) The three of us were in A house ready to eat dinner. Talia had her computer on her lap, and I was sitting next to her. I discreetly looked at her from the corner of my eye, and noticed an expression of intense concentration. Sydney was cooking some delicious raviolis, and while she was talking to me, my head was trying to record her name as I repeated “Sydney from Australia” multiple times. Dinner was great; it was all I needed. The people I met that day at SEA brought me such a sense of peace that, as soon as I touched the bed, I fell asleep as if I had taken an entire bottle of NyQuil Z. 

My towel became my blanket that night, as I left behind my sleeping bag (and didn’t want to ask for one). I curled my long body into a pretzel shape, but my feet were still sticking out. My dream ended as soon as the wind entered the room and tickled my naked feet, waking up every little hair in my body. 

I was ready to start the day, so I hopped out of bed and folded my towel. The towel strategy had some benefits at the end of the day-not having to make my bed. My stomach guided my legs to the kitchen, and I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of hot coffee in between my hands. My eyes traveled outside the window that was right in front of me, and all I could see was green. 

Suddenly a vibrant pink dot in the distance caught my attention. It was Maddie’s hair–a passionate, energetic and huge shark lover. I kept looking out the window and again, all green. I heard the door opening and a huge smile and a pair of circular glasses appeared right at the kitchen entrance. It was Mira–the most peaceful and smiling soul I have ever met. Behind that peaceful soul, loudness entered the room, I looked down and two naked feet were stepping in front of me. That was Arthur: a curious, creative and non-traditional guy. I looked outside the window again, and I saw a nest of dreadlocks bouncing to a Puerto Rican rhythm. His name is Hatuey- a funny and hearted guy, and basically my comfort zone when my brain wants to stop thinking in English. 

I finished my coffee and went upstairs into my room. When I walked in, I realized I had company. A long and blond hair was going from one corner of the room to the other, unpacking and being helped by her family. All I could think was how much I missed my family. Her name is Kelsie–my cooking mate every Monday afternoon. 

I heard a wise voice downstairs, and from the look in his eyes and the shape of his hair I knew he had lived the longest. His name is Jeff, but I call him Mr.Jeff- a multiphasic man. Filmmaker, producer and editor from The Bachelor, future scientist, ex-military, delicious-pancakes-maker, and the funniest character we have in A house. The space that once felt empty, was starting to fill up with diverse personalities and backgrounds. It felt alive.