I always thought my friends who came back from mission trips in developing countries were overdramatic. They claimed they experienced complete transformations. But after spending my summer teaching English in rural Nepal, I understand. So much of who I am and what I believe changed. (It’s hard to believe my outsides have not morphed as well.) I could probably write a novel about what I learned, but here are the CliffsNotes.

I learned that sometimes the whims I am scared to follow lead to once in a lifetime opportunities. When I began researching international volunteer organizations in April, all I could think was: one, I was probably insane for wanting to travel across the globe by myself and two, whatever doubt about my sanity I had would be fully confirmed when I told my parents. Without my uncharacteristic impulsiveness, I would have missed a chance to work with adorable, eager Nepali children and to be completely immersed in a foreign culture.

I learned that neither being a volunteer nor owning a “Lonely Planet” guide means anything. I was arrogant to believe I could make sweeping national changes through merely a summer of service. Many volunteers came before me, and many will come after me. All I could do was humbly accept my duties and try to brighten the days of a few kids. Also, placing faith in a rarely updated guidebook and staying in a $2 a night guesthouse is unwise. Regardless of high ratings, you get what you pay for, bedbugs and all.

Most importantly, I learned that I cannot fully appreciate life without being dirty, getting angry, challenging myself physically and mentally and recognizing that beauty can exist amongst heartbreak. During my stay, I walked 20 miles a day to village schools in the middle of monsoon season, saw the heart-wrenching poverty of child beggars, watched local teachers practically ignore female students and sat in shock when a Nepali instructor slapped a little girl.

Ironically, I recognized more beauty and goodness around me than I ever had before. In those muddy, wet walks to work, there were hazy, distant mountains to admire and friendly locals to greet. In my impoverished students, there was an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and unparalleled joy. In the obvious injustice, there was hope that the freedom of women in Kathmandu might disseminate into the villages.

I was unaccustomed to such examples of good and bad juxtaposed together in my fairly limited view of the world, but these extremes heightened my awareness and appreciation of them both. As my favorite ‘80s sitcom said, “You take the good. You take the bad. You take them all, and there you have the facts of life.”

Though traveling to a developing country by yourself is not for everyone, I encourage you to take what I learned to heart. If you are a bit more adventurous, do some research online, check with your church or ask friends about programs to volunteer abroad. Whatever you decide to do, I hope you learn to embrace spontaneity, humility and beauty wholeheartedly.

Caroline Dillard is a sophomore majoring in finance and history. She can be reached for comment at [email protected]