The Senegambia Girls’ Trip: Part 3

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Catch up on Part 1 here

Catch up on Part 2 here

I have to be honest and say that prior to planning this trip with my friends, I had no idea that The Gambia was a country that existed. As with most of Africa, the borders only make sense due to colonialism.

The Gambia’s present-day boundaries trace back to colonial competition between Britain and France in the nineteenth century. The 1889 Anglo-French agreement set the country’s borders as a slender corridor along the Gambia River, stretching about 10 kilometers from each bank and leaving it almost entirely surrounded by Senegal. This arrangement largely reflected British and French colonial priorities rather than the boundaries, identities, or interests of local communities and ethnic groups.

It’s also interesting to note that the official languages of The Gambia are English, as well as local languages Mandinka, Pulaar, Wolof, Soninke, Jola, Serer, Manjak, Bainouk, Portuguese Creole and others.

Up until this point of our journey, we had a reasonably smooth and pleasant stay in the parts of Senegal that we visited. Even with the “language barrier” of French, Jeremies really made sure that we were comfortable and if there were any issues, they were addressed promptly.

However, we soon would realize that The Gambia would call on us to have a little more patience, confidence, and humor. To be fair, Jeremies did give us a heads up in that things may be hectic at the land border. We would have to stamp out of Senegal, walk over to the immigration office on The Gambia side to stamp in (and get a visa for lil ol’ American me), before continuing on to the ferry stop at Barra to take us over to the capital Banjul.

We spent all morning driving, with a short, calm stop for lunch before approaching the border. At that point, our group made a quick jump out of our van and made a beeline to the Senegalese border control, all while trying to circumvent SIM card vendors, black market money changers, and snack ladies.

Our first sign of trouble was at border control, where they held back one of my friends, trying to bribe her for money (with Jeremies having to step in and “sort things out”). When we walked over to The Gambia side, we entered a tiny building where Jeremies explained to the officers that we needed to be stamped in (plus a visa for me). Somehow, we were granted access to the front of the line to meet the chief officer. While I felt bad that we had skipped a line of almost 20 people, I also wanted to skedaddle on out of there.

When the chief did arrive, he did not hesitate to make his “power and influence” known. Upon looking at my US passport, he declared “you are getting a stamp and visa from a very important person here who makes key decisions”…or something comical along those lines. I started to laugh, thinking he was joking, but I immediatly shut up when I saw his stern expression didn’t crack.

I didn’t want to be thrown in Gambian jail for disrespecting a government official…even if a mom cat and her kittens were taking shelter in the cell!

We thought we were through the worst of it once we got back into the van, but the corruption only continued. When we were stopped the first time, it was about 5 min after we had left the immigration office. The officer and Jeremies had a heated discussion, as we were trying to explain how ridiculous it was that we were being stopped when he had just stamped out. He shut up when he was handed about the equivalent of $2…a bribe that would fund his afternoon coffee—a Touba coffee, to be more precise.

Little did we know that his officer buddy further down was given a heads up about us. We were stopped yet again, and again asked for a bribe equivalent to a cup of coffee to avoid any inconveniences.

After the third stop, it was getting to be a bit much. Even our normally calm driver was getting irritated. At this point, he got into a tiff with the officer and left the van to have a chat on the side of the road—amongst goats, chicken, and roadside coffee.

It’s the chickens for me

After about 20 minutes, we were able to continue, as long as we forked over money of course. Unfortunately, this is a circumstance that can occur when driving in West Africa, although other land borders and roads are known to be worse!

Three more stops of this “touba coffee bribe” and we finally made it to Barra, and the scene was even more overwhelming. We were now in a time crunch, needing to get tickets to make it on the last ferry to Banjul, and to get our van on board as well. We would be sitting in the van while on the ferry.

The most convenient way to ensure access was to acquire a priority pass to be one of the first vehicles to enter the ferry when boarding opened up. An attendant then got into our van, saying he would “guide” us to the “VIP entry.”

Once on board the ferry, we finally had a few hours of reprieve. It did feel a little “VIP” to be safely tucked in a vehicle while it seemed like chaos was taking over around us.

Rush hour onto the ferry

The ferry ride is supposedly 30 min, but it felt much longer. I was surprised to see how much wider, cleaner, and calmer the roads in Banjul were, and before we knew it, we were at our accommodation for our Gambian portion of the trip, Coco Ocean Resort and Spa.

The resort space was spacious, clean, and was a beachfront property, but I couldn’t help but feel like I had been transported back to the 1970s.

Needless to say, we were all too exhausted for dinner, so I dipped into the snack bag we had been carrying around and pulled out something of comfort from home to keep my stomach quiet until morning—a Snowman Cookie from Starbucks 😂.

The next morning, I mustered enough energy to go for a short run, which ended up being quite pleasant. I somehow managed to take a really cool picture that ended up being my phone wall paper for half of this year:

Banjul Beach Vibes

We had a slow start to the morning, and so we were able to enjoy breakfast at an easy-going pace at the resort. By the time we sat down, the place was bustling, but we were able to get a nice table outside.

It was at this point I started to notice some “interesting pairings”. The Gambia is notorious for a certain type of tourism, mainly pertaining to older women from Europe seeking companionship from darker, younger Gambian men. And while the pairings weren’t rampant at our accommodation, there were one or two I happened to spot since my brain was now more attuned to that generalization.

However, one of the waiters during breakfast seemed to be playing to the stereotype asking if “I was looking to have my coffee dark, just like him”. I brushed it off while also trying to hold in my laughter—I had zero interest in these cliché games!

As the day went on, things continued to take a humorous turn. Frankly speaking, The Gambia is not as developed in the tourism sector as Senegal, so there are a limited amount of (entertaining) activities to partake in, even in the capital Banjul. Jeremies still tried his best to put together an interesting itinerary. That led us to meeting Mowoki’s Gambian “intern”, an extremely tall young lad who was excited to welcome us to his country. He seriously could have been recruited to play professional basketball in the USA, but his heart was set on getting a degree in tourism??

Our first stop was Arch 22, and all I can really say is, wtf.

My reason for such a stark expression was due to the fact that this monument, Arch 22, was the thing to see in Banjul. It was built in 1996 to mark the July 22, 1994 military coup that brought Yahya Jammeh to power, and so it made me wonder are we condemning a dictatorship??

There happened to be another “guide” sitting at the bottom level of the arch (let’s call him Monsieur Misogynist, for a reason that will be clarified later), who did not hesitate to charge us a fee to head to the top and to later check out the exhibits inside. I couldn’t understand him despite him speaking English (he was speaking in an interesting accent and quite fast) but I happened to catch that the Arch 22 has now supposedly taken on a different role. Instead of just standing as a tribute to a darker period in history, it now also serves as a place where people can look back on the Jammeh era and the harm caused under his rule. What started as a symbol of power has become more of a reminder of the past, and a way for The Gambia to face that history rather than ignore it.

To make things even more bizzare, Monsieur Misogynist offered to take our pictures at the top of Arch, and demanded that we jump for our photos High School Musical style, just after learning about Arch 22. When we took a look at our phone galleries later, we immediately deleted all the photos after bursting into laughter…this man could not take a photo to save his life! Cropping off our heads mid-jump, if not completely blurred altogether.

Monsieur then had us follow him to the exhibits inside. My initial thought was again, wtf.

The “museum” inside the arch


By the time we assembled in front of The Gambian flag and a large picture of two men in military garb, a fellow tourist from the UK by the name of Abraham ended up accidentally joining our group. Monsieur Misogynist was quick to launch into story time, and I quickly lost track of what he was saying. At one point, we ended up dividing ourselves into two groups for a quick “quiz” game about the history of slavery. Abraham ended up with Jeremies and the Gambian intern, while it was us four girls forming the second group.

We knew right away that the game was rigged when we provided full responses to Monsieur’s questions, but he was quick to dismiss us in favor of the haphazard responses from the guys team. My friends and I were immediately livid, and things only continued to get worse. We had moved on from the flag (but not without a cringe picture in front of it while reciting the Gambian national anthem), and onto Monsieur’s rant about women. He started off talking about jujus (traditional spiritual amulets, talismans, or charms believed to hold supernatural powers for protection, healing, or good fortune) and how that nowadays, African women are not living up to tradition and having babies as they should. This really appalled my friends and I, and the four of us ended up making a secret dash for the exit while Abraham continued on with Monsieur! We raced down the Arch trying to make sure we didn’t trip on eachother and busted out laughing once we got back to our van. We truly did get our fill of The Gambia at that point, but more was in store!

Jeremies thought the Bakau Craft Market might be a redeeming activity, and we actually found it to be a lot calmer than the markets we visited in Senegal.


Our Gambian intern went to town with some of the musical instruments, while my friends M and P were on fire with their bartering skills with the local shopkeepers.

Aneesa and I found ourselves in one particular shop where we stumbled upon this painting, which sums up the Gambian experience for some…

The painter’s nephew happened to be in the shop that day, and explained to us that his uncle really likes white women, but has yet to find one for himself 😳.

At that point, it was safe to say we saw all that we needed to see in The Gambia. I felt particularly beat so I took a nap while the rest of the group relaxed by the pool. We were able to end the night with a nice Thai dinner as well, and were perfectly fine with the idea with staying at the resort “safe and sound”, knowing that we had to mentally prep for the journey back to Senegal the next morning.

The next morning, we left The Gambia and began the long journey back to Senegal. After a lengthy ferry ride followed by several hours on the road, we were more than ready for a break, and a meal.

Would have loved some bread with this but the veggies were cooked and seasoned well!

We stopped for a late lunch at NDOYA in Ndangane, located in the Sine-Saloum region. The restaurant is women-owned and served fresh, delicious food, making it the perfect place to relax and recharge before continuing on our way.

By around 5 p.m., we arrived at King Baobab Lodge in Palmarin Diakhanor, in the Sine-Saloum Delta. The Wi-Fi was not particularly reliable, but that hardly mattered. We spent the evening watching the sunset, taking in the peaceful surroundings, and enjoying a (decent) buffet dinner before settling in for the night.

Our second-to-last full day started with a boat ride on the river through the mangroves. To reach the boat, we had to walk through water for a short distance, which caused some personal panic as I was determined not to get my cute dress wet! But our driver volunteered to help us onto the boat, which required us to be picked up for a hot second as we swung onto the boat. We felt like princesses for sure, lol!

The boat ride was a calming, slow drift on the water, which gave us plenty of time to take photos, enjoy the scenery, close our eyes, and relax (while also trying to avoid direct sunlight).

Afterward, we endured a long, bumpy drive to Saly. Along the way, we stopped to see a baobab tree with a large, unusual hole in its trunk…that people could climb into?? No thanks, I’ll just admire it from the outside 😅.

Once we arrived in Saly, we checked back into the Palm Beach Resort that we stayed at earlier in the trip. We were once again entertained with sunsets and our “White Lotus/soap opera characters” at dinner 🤭.

Another sunset in Saly

On our final (full) day, I started with a run along the beach before breakfast. My final breakfast at the resort consisted of my favorite waffles + nutella combo, but my breakfast once again came with an unexpected surprise: two pieces of aluminum foil in my food, which I guess was a great way to finish off my last breakfast in Senegal! 🙃

Not too soon after breakfast, we headed to Mbour for a “cultural encounter” (at least that’s what I read in our itinerary, lol). We were invited to have lunch at our driver’s home, where we met his wife and children, and learned that we would be sitting down to a home-cooked traditional Senegalese meal, prepared mainly by our driver’s wife.

It was of course, not a car ride without another different kind of encounter. We had to make a quick pit stop at the bank, though some of us stayed back in the car with our door wide open. A street vendor came by and decided to see if we could be won over by any of his wares. I guess we looked like the kind of ladies who would be into self defense because the first thing he whipped out was a TASER, and even demonstrated that it was in working condition. Not a few seconds into the zzzrrrpp! sound and we were all shooing him away 😂.

Once we got back on the road and arrived at our driver’s house, we were delightfully pampered and ended up observing the driver’s wife cooking rather than pitching in 😅. The original intention of this activity was to be a “cooking class”, but we really didn’t do much except relax in the living room and poke fun at Jeremies 😆.

The main dish was thieboudienne, a Senegalese one-pot meal consisting of fish, rice, and vegetables that included cassava, carrots, and cabbage, all cooked in a rich tomato-based sauce. The fish is usually marinated and fried before being added to the dish, while the broken rice absorbs all the bold flavors of the garlic, onions, and spices.

Everyone was aware of my dietary preferences, and so a separate vegetarian version was made for me! So while I felt like an outcast not being able to participate in the communal aspect of sharing thieboudienne, I did appreciate the separate vegetarian meal. 

Vegetarian Thieboudienne

We spent much of the afternoon being silly and laughing with the family. After the meal, we had watermelon and drank attaya, a sweet green tea made with mint and sugar. The tea is brewed in three stages over hot coals and poured repeatedly between a kettle and small glasses to create a thick layer of foam. It starts out strong and bitter, but the eventual sweetness makes it surprisingly enjoyable.

Cheers!

After completing our meal and digesting, we said our goodbyes to the family (not our driver, we still had our drives to the airport with him!) and headed back to our resort in Saly.

That evening was spent in even more relaxation: a hammam treatment, drinks with Jeremies, and we enjoyed one final dinner together, us girls, since we all had varying departure times the next day.

The journey back was overall quite smooth once leaving Dakar (I was irritated with an immigration officer who decided he would stamp me out on a fresh new page with a stamp RIGHT in the MIDDLE 🥴).

My return flight was also on United, a direct to IAD which was incredibly convenient looking back. I was able to get upgraded to Polaris First Class, and that was quite an experience as well!

My closing notes on Senegal and The Gambia? I appreciate the fact that I was able to travel to both of these countries with the logistics completely ironed out by a travel company, and that I could just show up with my friends without a worry or stressing thought.

The unfortunate part is that as I continue to dedicate time to international travel, and to exploring countries in the world that are considered “unconventional” by American standards, I feel that I will continue to distance myself from those who do not understand what it means to travel to countries “no one has ever heard of”.

I am truly excited to discover more of the African continent, and to continue to share my experiences in the coming years. Jeremies and I even had a conversation about travel to Africa on the podcast, and what is the hope for Africans as well as foreigners when it comes to smoother travel across the continent.

Even if you aren’t convinced to visit Senegal nor The Gambia after this insane 3-parter, I hope as a reader, you are able to appreciate what a little bit of West Africa is able to offer! And don’t worry, there will be more of Africa on this blog very soon 😉.

Why I Solo

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I’ve always been an independent soul, so it’s no surprise solo travel is something I latched onto without hesitancy.

But, I have to be honest here as well: my impatience and my attempt to mediate boredom with others played a huge role in how I stumbled upon the path solo-traveled.

When I was younger, I’d often stray from my group of friends when we went on day trips to the mall. They’d be interested in stores that I didn’t care for in the least, and I thought it’d be the most time-efficient for everyone if we parted ways for a few hours to explore what we wanted.

This usually ended up with me being alone in the end, since my sister and our best friends had similar tastes in clothes, recreation, and even food. They’d be happy with hours spent in Barnes and Noble, grabbing fries and a burger from the food court, and maybe popping into Forever 21 or H&M for their cheap, fast fashion needs.

I usually found myself at the “higher end” side of the mall, taking my time trying on designer jeans, and treating myself to a more “sophisticated” mall treat like pineapple froyo with mochi and popping boba.

My friends came out with bags of books, seasonal sweaters, and bellies full of fast, filling food. I on the other hand, brought out a bag small enough to place on my lap, containing my long-awaited, pricey prize.

As I approached my late teens and early twenties, I realized I thrived as an early riser. This new-found trait of mine was probably exacerbated by my eating disorder, since I was often awake as early as 3AM trying to pass the time until I allowed myself to eat breakfast. But even as I recovered, my inclination towards rising with the sun and starting my day with a morning run hours before the rest of the world was slamming their alarms was something that persisted—and further isolated me from my peers.

It seemed like everyone around me was a freaking night owl, and I was a lone, morning lark…

So when it was time for me to finally move out and start a “new life” in Los Angeles for graduate school, I was more than ready to live on my own terms. Wake up when I want, eat when I want, and explore all of LA as much as I wanted to on the weekends…I didn’t have to worry about asking my Dad to drive me from one place or another, I didn’t have to worry about appeasing the tastes of my friends. I could do whatever I wanted!

In my first apartment! Los Angeles, August 2014

And I did do my fair share of exploration in LA. Monday through Friday was devoted to classes as a first-year PhD student. There were also some weekend mornings devoted to studying, but I made it a priority to get out every single weekend.

I’d take the metro and the bus, and frequent neighborhoods like WeHo, DTLA, Koreatown, NoHo, Santa Monica, Culver City, Sawtelle, Pasadena, etc. I had a list of all the cafes, restaurants, and dessert shops I was eager to visit and sample treats from. I would even travel to go grocery shopping—there was that one time I bought a handful of items from a Erewhon near The Grove (yes, on a PhD student’s budget 😅). I’d make sure to bring a number of reusable bags, taking pride in my grocery hauls as I’d saunter onto public transit like a real bag lady.

At the time, I deemed these days as successful. I achieved what I set out to do—I was living life on my own terms, solo and free.

But as much as I was an expert on doing things on my own with confidence, a part of me always wished that the friends who comprised my social circle would share my interests and passions. I never did meet the right group of people to go out and “party” with. My friends ended up being introverts like me, and perhaps were even more farther down on the introverted spectrum…

Meet-ups did happen here and there over the following years. Despite our supposed mixed schedules, my sister and one of our best friends were able to plan a girls’ trip to Seattle. Then there was the Iceland/London/Cardiff/Paris trip my sis, Dad, and I took the following year, and some weekend trips not too far from LA. Company is great, but juggling fatigue, hanger, anxiety, and the preferences of others isn’t what I’d include in defining my dream travel adventure.

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My first opportunity for international solo travel however, was something that came up out of the blue, thanks to work. In the third year of my PhD, I was one of six students part of a group fellowship for one year, and one of the stipulations was using some allocated funds to attend a conference.

Without going into too much detail about the situation, I ended up having to pick a conference urgently due to some misunderstandings. I ended up submitting an abstract to two conferences—one of which took place on the (US) East Coast, and the other in Barcelona.

Guess which one I “ended up” going to because the other one declined my submission…

Barcelona, August 2017

It took me a full day to warm-up to the idea that I was in a whole ‘nother country on my own. I had left the lab in mid-September, after an exhaustive series of weeks of intensive experiments. Technically, this was also my first “business” trip, but I still felt out of sorts for being away from work on a trip that was planned last minute.

But I eased up to the idea after a day of rest and a full day exploring the city—from Park Guell to Sagrada Familia to sampling vegan paella, I felt a new-found independence I was slowly allowing myself to enjoy.

In the following days, I left the city for a beach town where my conference was held. I fell in love with the architecture, the views of the Mediterranean Sea, and the kind people (well, kind person—the BNB host I was staying with was a sweet woman who was warm, engaging, and generous enough to give me money for a return train ticket when they wouldn’t take my credit card!).

Sitges, September 2017

When I came back from Spain and went back to work (seriously, I went to lab the next day after landing in LA the night before…), I had intense Spain withdrawals and wished I could have extended my stay to do more exploring post-conference.

That trip was what got me pondering about going abroad after my PhD. I was toying with the idea of learning Spanish and applying for a fellowship in Spain for many months after that trip…

Since I was still knee-deep in my PhD however, I made it my mission to do at least one international solo trip a year. Even though I initially invited my friends to join me, they were quick with their excuses. So, it was me and my lonesome yet again, planning my adventures from scratch.

Since Spain, I’ve traveled to Germany, Sweden, and Vancouver, Canada for my international solo trips. Technically, Germany was to meet my lab bestie, who returned home after 3 years in the US (where I met her), but Sweden and Vancouver were purely solo, and very different experiences.

Exploring Muenster in Germany

In Sweden, I spent 10 days exploring Stockholm, Gothenburg, Malmo, and even a day trip “across the pond” in Copenhagen. I went in thinking it would be a trip full of friendships made in hostels, nights out on the town with these supposed friends, and happy memories to return home with.

Unfortunately, Sweden was the trip that reminded me that solo is only a few letters off from lonely. I stayed in hostels, but came across independent and introverted travelers like myself, who were not too keen to extend an invitation for company. I spent many of my days walking aimlessly around these cities, because my heart wasn’t into stopping inside museums or paying for tourist attractions. Even the food was sub-par…

Stockholm, August 2019

My trip to Vancouver was shorter in comparison, and while still very much an isolated experience, it was one I remember fondly. I stayed in an Airbnb room the size of a walk-in closet, but I remember walking around the city in a warm, puffy jacket since it was November and the weather was crisp and cool. Memories of warm vegan poutine, hot cider from Granville Island, getting nauseous on Capistrano Bridge, and even resting inside a movie theater to watch It’s a Good Day in the Neighborhood starring Tom Hanks as Mr. Rogers were all delightful moments of the trip.

Enjoying that cold weather gear in Vancouver, November 2019

Despite the varied experiences of my trips to-date, I have a new-found appreciation for ALL of the moments I experienced, given that we now live in a COVID-affected world…

After Vancouver, I squeezed in a trip to India with the family, right before COVID struck. Obviously no trips were in my plans for 2020, except figuring out how to get to Italy to start my new post-doc position.

And coming to Italy has been my biggest “solo adventure” yet, and it’s hard to believe that it has only just begun! Right now, work demands and my energy levels have limited me to staying within Milan and the northern areas of Lombardia, but I have hope that I will soon find the time to safely travel the rest of the country—which I hear is much more beautiful the farther out from Milan you go 😉.

I don’t consider myself an intense traveler, but I am proud of my abilities to plan solo trips and feel confident about them. I’ve had friends and acquaintances ask me with wide-eyed wonder, “So you went to ____, by yourself?!”, as if to say, something must be wrong if you can’t find anyone to travel with.

But I relish in it, and you shouldn’t be afraid to do so either!

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If I’m going to give my two-cents on solo travel, here’s what I think you should consider for planning your next solo trip—especially if you are an introvert like me 😉:

💗 Make a day out of walking

I’ve had days where I felt bored out of my mind while walking around cities I visited while on vacation (like in Sweden), but this was also influenced by my mood at the time. My time spent afoot in Barcelona and Vancouver were the exact opposite!

By making a day out of walking, meaning not relying on public transit or cars to get you places, it allows you to feel like a local in a short amount of time. And as an introvert, it feels nice to not have to call attention to yourself when dealing with the stresses that come with transit (although, public transit is great for covering more places in a day).

I feel as if I am able to understand the vibe of a city/place more after spending hours afoot because all of my senses are at work. I keep Google Maps handy (and also make sure my phone is juiced) so I don’t get completely lost.

I also like to keep some kind of prime destination in mind, be it a café of interest or a photo-worthy spot, which brings me to my next point…

💗 Make what you enjoy a priority, and focus around that

When I was “forced” to go on family road trips and vacations (😂) as a child, I often felt upset by the fact that everything felt rushed and my parents were riddled with anxiety (mostly Dad, haha) with trying to fit seeing as many things as possible in a short duration of time. This often meant trips to boring museums, going to the one Indian restaurant in backwoods Montana because Mom would not eat anything else, and appeasing Mom’s additional shop-a-holic needs at every single gift shop we passed through.

Since then, I’ve vowed to make my solo trips pleasant for me, because who else am I doing it for?

This meant no museums or tourist attractions that I would not find interesting otherwise, and paying attention to my energy levels. In Sweden, I was in a consistently low mood, but I was happiest when I was able to check off vegan restaurants from my to-do list and collect a plethora of pics I could use for Instagram posts 😉.

If you are on vacation, YOU deserve to enjoy it! If it means planning your day around local cuisine and making a foodie tour, eat your heart out! If it means collecting trinkets for friends and family by paying visits to the shops of local artisans, by all means, spend, spend, spend! And there is certainly no shame in spending a day taking photos meant for the ‘gram. If it’s fun for you, why should anyone tell you that’s not how to travel?

And guess what? You do need energy for all of this, so please…

💗 Make time for ample rest / don’t shy away from hostels

Invest in a cozy guest suite for one. Or even a luxurious hotel room. Having enough energy to enjoy where you are and what you are experiencing is absolutely necessary.

But there is nothing wrong with a cheap, social hostel either! You’d think that’s a scene to avoid as an introvert, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. My only hostel experience to-date was in Sweden so I can only comment on that, but the places I stayed in were safe, comfortable, clean, and easy on the wallet. It’s the perfect place to hang your backpack for the night after a long day of walking, eating, photo-taking, and shopping—pretty much if you follow all of the above tips 😉.

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Whether you are an extrovert or introvert, a gal with a ton of friends to pick from to accompany you on all of your trips, or a self-identifying “loner” who prefers the sound of silence over the yapping of crowds, I recommend that everyone have a solo travel experience at least once in their life.

There is fear in being lonely, but don’t be afraid of being alone. Experiencing solitude during travel allows us to learn new things about our surroundings, while also allowing the bravery, strength, and tenacity that normally is at rest within us to rise to the occasion.

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