For those of you who don't know, this summer I went on an expedition to Tanzania with a groups of friends and two teachers from my school. And it was, quite simply the best thing I have ever done in my life. We taught in our partner school, volunteered in a place called Neema Crafts which is a craft centre run entirely by deaf and disabled people (Google it and find out about it. Please donate some money if you can; I promise it is.going to an amazing cause). Right after I came back, I sat up late one night and I was struck by a sudden and intense fear. What if I forgot it? All of it, the sounds and smells and moments that I almost took for granted when I was there. I couldn't bear to forget a single second of what was quite simply the best time of my life. So I sat up until 3am writing it all down. I apologise in advance; I know that it isn't all grammatically accurate and it is very jumbled. But this wasn't written to satisfy any beautification requirements, but purely as an outpouring of my memories. And pretty much my soul; I've never posted anything personal before. Not like this anyway. I hope that you enjoy what you read and that you are inspired. If you ever get the opportunity to do something like this, then take it. Grab it with both hands. Don't be hindered by the cost; my friends and I managed to raise all the money ourselves whilst taking GCSE's and AS levels. Happy reading! Bethan x

“It’s been quite a while since I last wrote in here. Last time I did, I was sitting in my hotel room in Mpwapwa, curled up on one of those cushy chairs with a reading light trying not to wake Tana up…so much has changed! Well, Tanzania was amazing. So, so amazing that I didn’t want to leave and I really want to go back – but it would have to be with my best friends like before. They made it so special and I miss them all so much. Tana with her kind words and surprising assertiveness; Maisy and her craziness and singing; Sam’s banter and joking and friendly manner; Mrs Santaana’s maternal reassurance, her quiet comfort and childish side; Mr Tyson’s formal, well spoken, Old-English-Gentlemanly mannarisms; and Josh’s wacky singing, crazy jokes, steadfastness and the fact that we finally got here after all that doubt. I miss them all so much – we were all such a great family when we were out there. We were thrown in the deep end – into a place with fish heads, Swahili, crazy washing ladies, stinging insects and scorpions and all its challenges.

I miss the adventure, not knowing what would happen each day and not knowing what I would wake up to. I miss closing my eyes on the Jeep as we were thrown around, opening the window and feeling the warm, dusty African air whip though my hair and knot it up completely. I miss the red sand and the beautiful mountains. I miss our Miranda evenings, all gathered upstairs or in the boys’ room, all curled up together laughing and crying. I miss going into the guys’ room to play Trivial Pursuit and sing more Disney songs. I miss meeting so any beautiful and inspirational people, who challenged me beyond imagining. I miss the smell of sawdust, glue and elephant poo, of not knowing what people were saying and getting completely the wrong message…I miss watching Josh rap Niki Minaj in the Jeep and laughing so hard my ribs ached. I miss having to poor FREEZING cold buckets of water over my head and having freezing showers that made my skin tingle and my blood zing. I miss planning lessons in the evening, reading ‘Journey to Jo’burg’ three times in a row and not understanding physics or geography.

I miss the sound of the children’s laughter at the nursery as we blew bubbles, took pictures and threw the parachute into the air again and again. I miss walking to Monica’s and the great unveiling of what we would have for our meal that day – the excitement, the joy and the horror. I miss the laughter at the dinner table when we discussed films and TV and scary stories and trying to explain Disney films to Donald and struggling to keep a straight face as he stared at us blankly. I miss Christoph and Junior and Gloria and visiting the cathedral and watching our first African sunset. I miss running around in the BOILING HOT sun and bright red sand, twisting my ankle, getting filthy and not understanding how to play tag rugby – and then the horror of finding out I had to teach it the next day. I miss teaching those kids, who had never played sport properly before how to throw the rugby ball and the satisfaction of seeing them manage a whole game! I miss teaching music, standing up the front with Maisy and wishing that I could sing even half as well as her. I miss laughing as we sang the same line ten times in a row so the girls in form one could get the pitch right. I miss planning our music in the evenings, all sitting in a circle rapping, beat-boxing and having the hotel staff gather round to watch and the teachers laugh. I miss doing speeches and feeling my knees shake with fear – feeling like an insignificant nobody when I addressed such important people. I miss walking around Queen Esther and seeing how lucky I am – yet they have so little and are so much happier.

I miss the students that we made such strong friendships with and feeling happy that we had made a difference. I miss standing in front of the whole school – students and teachers – and thanking them for everything they did, how well they responded and worked and how much I would miss them. I miss sitting among the students and watching them learn and understand and enjoy learning and loving the smiles and laughter as I tried out my terrible Swahili. I miss being frustrated because I had used every adjective, explanation, picture, dictionary reference and sign language to get across an idea, but still no-one understands me –that I had to give up knowing that I had bigger battles. I miss Gloria addressing Mr Tyson so formally every time she spoke to him and giggling as he grimaced and tried to smile.

I miss walking in the pitch black with the weak torchlight through the sand to Monica’s and looking up to see the most beautiful sky full of stars and a moon that looked so different and just being awestruck at it’s beauty. I miss the deep red of the African sunset and how quickly the sun disappeared behind the mountains in an array of colour, shooting streaks of fire across the sky. I miss jumping when we opened our door in Mikumi to find a HUGE lizard shoot up the wall and a frog sitting in the middle of the corridor. I miss doing the excessive bug-searches before we wrapped up in our mosquito nets and sleeping bag liners. I miss getting up super early and having to shove whatever on to get ready for a new day. I miss going on Safari and seeing so many beautiful animals in such a stunning landscape. I miss the freedom of standing on my seat with the roof up, the sun on my face and breathing in the fresh, crisp air, tinged with the smell of smoke from the grass-fires. I miss being thrown around in the Jeep and being eaten alive by horseflies because apparently I was wearing the same colours as the flags they use to attract and poison them.

I miss putting on insect repellent just when I’d got clean and using hand-gel excessively before we ate. I miss opening the door to a man in full tribal gear carrying a spear and a lantern with teeth around his neck – I miss tottering around on the cobbled paths in ridiculously high heels because I wanted to look my best so that I’d feel worthy of such an amazing country and people. I miss the sheer delight of actual fruit and vegetables, juice and salad and feeling the unclean feeling just disappear as I felt the vitamins sink into my body. I miss the feeling of pure delight, happiness and excitement when we pulled up to that beautiful hotel and knowing that I would have my own double bed and shower and TV and feeling so privileged and lucky. I miss feeling so tired and desperate to sleep in the Jeep as we travelled from place to place. I miss sticking my hand out of the window and taking ‘arty photos’ that actually looked rubbish when I got home. I miss escaping all the problems I had left behind in England – all the worries and insecurities about my future and my family – of closing my eyes and enjoying right now and wanting to remember every second. I miss the feeling of giving all I could to people who desperately needed what we had and feeling that warm feeling inside because I had made a positive difference that day. I miss feeling so free…on top of the world and feeling like I could do anything I wanted because I had achieved so much. I miss the build up and the excitement.

But I don’t miss the fact that it’s all over.

I just want to do it all over again.”