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There's no denying it, these bloggers are bound to make you jealous. Whether it's their guts, their energy or their tan you admire, overseas volunteers have got plenty to share with you about their remarkable work in fascinating countries. Read on to find out what you could be missing.

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09102007 Monday Sep 10, 2007

The Last Post

Although this is horribly overdue, I thought I should do one last entry to round off properly. I’ve been back in the UK for nearly a month now; in some ways it feels like I was never away (which is quite depressing), but there are some things I’m still adjusting to. Rain being one.

Bozena and I left our project in the customary mad rush of the permanently disorganised, having spent more time chasing up debts and finalising arrangements with the printers than cleaning the flat. It was only as Liz, our co-host, was driving us out to the airport that I realised we were really not coming back, and I’m sad to say that by the time we got on the plane I was a snivelly, weeping mess.

As I mentioned in my last blog, it was hard to stay upset as we then went up to Zambia for our last holiday. Victoria Falls (or ‘Mosi Oa Tunya’, the smoke that thunders) was amazing. We scorned the waterproof ponchos on sale at the entrance to the park and after a few minutes in the spay looked like drowned rats, but how often do you get to say you got soaked by Vic Falls?

Being the adrenaline-seeking fools that we are, we also added to our list of ‘fun and interesting things that involve falling’ that we’ve accumulated this year. We abseiled, rap jumped (abseiling forwards), did the gorge swing (3 times) and the flying fox (10 times). The only problem was that each time you’d thrown yourself off the cliffs of the Zambezi Gorge in whatever manner you chose, you had to hike back out. By the end of the day both of us were exhausted and covered in sweat and mud. On the way out of the park we stopped at a craft stall and bought some Zambian masks as souvenirs; we didn’t have enough money on us so we put together what we had and added our flip-flops, Bozena’s hat and my belt to the bargain, which isn’t bad for three masks. However, this did mean that we were heading back to the backpackers barefooted; the sand soon turned our feet bright orangey-red, which nicely complimented our legs and shorts that were already dark brown from the dust in the gorge. We got a lift back to town in the back of a bakkie (adding mad, windswept hair to the equation), and just as we were coming up to the backpackers a big Zambian wasp flew into my eye. I ran inside looking like I’d been lost in the bush for months, one hand clasped over my eye, shouting, “Bozena! I’m blind! Will I ever see again?!” while she tried to get me to stand still for long enough for her to yank out the sting.

One of my less elegant moments, I’ll admit.

Anyway, our adventuring over, we headed home. A mess-up with the tickets meant that I didn’t actually have a seat on the Windhoek-Johannesburg flight (the lovely captain let me have a crew seat and I just had to get out of their way once we were airborne), but no journey’s perfect, is it? We all lost our luggage, too, but got it back a few days later…

It was really strange seeing my family and friends again for the first time. My younger sister and brother have both grown an indecent amount, and my friends admitted they were really scared to see me in case I’d changed loads and didn’t like them any more! I think spending a long time away from your family makes you appreciate them more. Amazingly, I haven’t argued with either parent or any of my three siblings since I got back – I should go away more often, haha.

I’d decided to throw myself headfirst back into British culture by going to Leeds Festival shortly after I got back, which was no Vic Falls but still brilliant. From there, Bozena and I headed straight up to the Isle of Coll for our last Project Trust course, debriefing. It was great to see Marcel again, along with all the other Southern Africa volunteers. I think Project have got the right idea that we all needed a chance to get some of the “When I was in Namibia/Botswana/Lesotho” rants out of our system. They also spent quite some time on counselling; in the lead-up to going away we’d all been told by family and friends that this would be the most amazing year of our lives. And now it’s over. And we’re only 19. Project did their best to emphasise that this was only ONE OF the most amazing years of our lives, and there was no need to get depressed!

Every volunteer was asked to do a community report, focusing on something that really interests them about their country, their area or their work. On each debriefing course there are prizes for the top three, though I’d been working on mine more as something that I’ll like to look back on in years to come. I built up a description of Luderitz through interviews with locals, to try and combine a depiction of my community with an element of my journalistic work. The amount of work we had at the project meant I was only half finished when I got back to England, and spent a couple of sleepless nights completing it, but it paid off – much to my surprise, I got first prize, £100! Just as a demonstration of how brilliant the Luderitz volunteers were, the second prize went to Bozena. We rock.

It’s strange to think that now my Project Trust experience is completely over. Bozena and Marcel aren’t my flatmates any more. I have nothing to do with the running of the Buchter News. The next volunteers will already be busy learning their new pupils names. I never have to go back to Coll. I miss Luderitz, I miss my work, my friends, the sun, the sea – even my pupils, a little bit!

But I should look to the future, I suppose. There hasn’t been a moment that I’ve regretted my choice to take a year out, and to have a year’s experience working as a journalist overseas at 19 is something pretty impressive to put on my CV. I just need to up my standards, and do something even more impressive next…

So, I’m off to university in a couple of weeks. At least I don’t have to be scared about moving away from home, haha; I just hope I haven’t forgotten how to write English essays. For anyone reading this who’s undecided whether to do a gap year or go straight to uni, go with the gap year! There is nothing as frustrating as a missed opportunity. This is one of the few times in your life that you have practically no ties or responsibilities, and are free to do whatever you want to do.


Posted by Lucy Hayes ( 10:40 AM )
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