Student Reflections
Quest Nicaragua: 2016
In May of this year, I had the privilege of accompanying six other people to Tipitapa, Nicaragua, to work with the community in building an additional classroom at an elementary school in El Papayal. After my friend introduced me to The Crossing just one semester earlier, I immediately fell in love with it and continue to look forward to Vespers each Sunday. Six months ago I would have never imagined myself reaching out of my comfort zone and embarking on a journey such as Quest. When I heard about the opportunity, I immediately was set on making it happen.
Through the Quest program at The Crossing, I not only grew as a person, but I grew closer to my fellow Quest members and the families and community members we met and worked with. The eye-opening experience gave me a better understanding of education and culture in a country other than my own. As a student at UW-Madison who is studying towards a Bachelor’s Degree in Art and eventually going into Art Therapy, working with others is my passion. Quest helped me connect and interact with people who I now consider friends. The Crossing has given me not only a community I belong to but is a highlight of my week, and Quest was honestly the most amazing experience of my life.
In May of this year, I had the privilege of accompanying six other people to Tipitapa, Nicaragua, to work with the community in building an additional classroom at an elementary school in El Papayal. After my friend introduced me to The Crossing just one semester earlier, I immediately fell in love with it and continue to look forward to Vespers each Sunday. Six months ago I would have never imagined myself reaching out of my comfort zone and embarking on a journey such as Quest. When I heard about the opportunity, I immediately was set on making it happen.
Through the Quest program at The Crossing, I not only grew as a person, but I grew closer to my fellow Quest members and the families and community members we met and worked with. The eye-opening experience gave me a better understanding of education and culture in a country other than my own. As a student at UW-Madison who is studying towards a Bachelor’s Degree in Art and eventually going into Art Therapy, working with others is my passion. Quest helped me connect and interact with people who I now consider friends. The Crossing has given me not only a community I belong to but is a highlight of my week, and Quest was honestly the most amazing experience of my life.
Quest Costa Rica: 2015
My experience of Quest Costa Rica was one of rewarding challenges and unexpected growth and freedom.
Going into the experience without even knowing what the word monoculture meant, I absorbed every bit of information about organic farming and agriculture that I could. I was genuinely shocked to learn about the US’s monoculture farming practices, which commonly spread pesticides and diseases. It made me think about the food I eat every day and how that food is grown. I am definitely more conscious of what I buy at the grocery store. While it is difficult to eat all organic, I try to examine and take into consideration the ingredients and content of the food I buy.
Digging the hole and collecting rocks for the water irrigation system everyday was difficult and tiring, but at the end of each day, I felt a sense of completeness and pride. It was a nice change of pace to be outside, working, swimming, exploring, hiking, and trying new foods. The best part was that I got to share these experiences with friends that I made on the trip. Without technology to distract us, we all fully lived in the moment and appreciated all the natural sources of happiness in our lives.
Costa Rica was a period of metamorphosis for me. I pushed both my body and my mind and let all my fears go. In Costa Rica, I lived and learned freely in nature, a lifestyle I intend to maintain going forward.
My experience of Quest Costa Rica was one of rewarding challenges and unexpected growth and freedom.
Going into the experience without even knowing what the word monoculture meant, I absorbed every bit of information about organic farming and agriculture that I could. I was genuinely shocked to learn about the US’s monoculture farming practices, which commonly spread pesticides and diseases. It made me think about the food I eat every day and how that food is grown. I am definitely more conscious of what I buy at the grocery store. While it is difficult to eat all organic, I try to examine and take into consideration the ingredients and content of the food I buy.
Digging the hole and collecting rocks for the water irrigation system everyday was difficult and tiring, but at the end of each day, I felt a sense of completeness and pride. It was a nice change of pace to be outside, working, swimming, exploring, hiking, and trying new foods. The best part was that I got to share these experiences with friends that I made on the trip. Without technology to distract us, we all fully lived in the moment and appreciated all the natural sources of happiness in our lives.
Costa Rica was a period of metamorphosis for me. I pushed both my body and my mind and let all my fears go. In Costa Rica, I lived and learned freely in nature, a lifestyle I intend to maintain going forward.
Quest Sri Lanka: 2015
Sri Lanka means “resplendent land” in Sanskrit. This island off the coast of India is absolutely dazzling not only because of its beautiful landscapes, but become of its people. During our 2015 Quest in January, we partnered with Sarvodaya- one of the longest running organizations focusing on community development and peace-building in Sri Lanka- and experienced their “universal uplift” meaning.
The group got to learn about Sarvodaya and the Shramadana Movement- “the gift of labor and talent for the betterment of society.” We also had celon tea, ate delicious food like Sri Lankans- with our right hand (which was a challenge for our “lefties”), visited a Buddhist temple, and enjoyed reflecting by the warm waters of the Indian Ocean.
On this trip, we learned about important public health, food system, and political issues affecting thousands of Sri Lankans. On a visit to the Anuradhapura Hospital’s Kidney Research Center the group learned about the chronic kidney disease of unknown origin (CKDu), a degenerating disease plaguing many Sri Lankans, especially rice farmers and people from low socioeconomic status. Learning about CKDu was eye opening and yet, a heart-breaking experience. While no cure has been found, we were inspired by the spiritual strength, community support, and the strong desire to find solutions Sri Lankans are employing to manage with hope the “unknown” behind the disease.
As expected with our partnership with Sarvodaya, we participated on a series of shramadanas. Our first was at the Suswasetha Nutrition Center, Sarvodaya’s (and Sri Lanka’s only) orphanage for malnourished babies and toddlers, where we interacted with the youth and washed windows and toys. Another project was to plant coconuts at the Anuradapura District Center. During our visit to the Movement for Protection of Indigenous Seeds farm in Eppawela we helped weed a rice paddy and learned about different rice crops that so many Sri Lankans rely on for their livelihood. Our most resonant shramadana was at Galwanguwa Village, where we stayed with a host family and immediately became part of their lives. At the village, our families, ourselves, and literally the whole village, came together to help revitalize a community center and build access to an outdoor washing area. These days of togetherness and working right alongside our Sri Lankan families were beyond expectations and purely enriching, in spite of the language barrier. We communicated beyond words and learned to appreciate the simplicity and resourcefulness of the villagers’ lifestyle.
Our trip also entailed other unforgettable experiences. We explored the local cultures and faith communities by visiting Buddhist and Hindu temples, including the Dambulla Rock Temple and Temple of the Tooth in Kandy. Coincidentally, Pope Francis visited Sri Lanka for the first time while we were in the country and experienced locals’ enthusiasm for his visit, even after learning that Christians are a minority.
While all of our experiences were remarkable, what will most resonate in our minds, hearts, and souls will be the days of Shramadana, where we helped build betterment with the Sri Lankan community and the community helped build us into stronger, more thoughtful, and more grateful people.
Sri Lanka means “resplendent land” in Sanskrit. This island off the coast of India is absolutely dazzling not only because of its beautiful landscapes, but become of its people. During our 2015 Quest in January, we partnered with Sarvodaya- one of the longest running organizations focusing on community development and peace-building in Sri Lanka- and experienced their “universal uplift” meaning.
The group got to learn about Sarvodaya and the Shramadana Movement- “the gift of labor and talent for the betterment of society.” We also had celon tea, ate delicious food like Sri Lankans- with our right hand (which was a challenge for our “lefties”), visited a Buddhist temple, and enjoyed reflecting by the warm waters of the Indian Ocean.
On this trip, we learned about important public health, food system, and political issues affecting thousands of Sri Lankans. On a visit to the Anuradhapura Hospital’s Kidney Research Center the group learned about the chronic kidney disease of unknown origin (CKDu), a degenerating disease plaguing many Sri Lankans, especially rice farmers and people from low socioeconomic status. Learning about CKDu was eye opening and yet, a heart-breaking experience. While no cure has been found, we were inspired by the spiritual strength, community support, and the strong desire to find solutions Sri Lankans are employing to manage with hope the “unknown” behind the disease.
As expected with our partnership with Sarvodaya, we participated on a series of shramadanas. Our first was at the Suswasetha Nutrition Center, Sarvodaya’s (and Sri Lanka’s only) orphanage for malnourished babies and toddlers, where we interacted with the youth and washed windows and toys. Another project was to plant coconuts at the Anuradapura District Center. During our visit to the Movement for Protection of Indigenous Seeds farm in Eppawela we helped weed a rice paddy and learned about different rice crops that so many Sri Lankans rely on for their livelihood. Our most resonant shramadana was at Galwanguwa Village, where we stayed with a host family and immediately became part of their lives. At the village, our families, ourselves, and literally the whole village, came together to help revitalize a community center and build access to an outdoor washing area. These days of togetherness and working right alongside our Sri Lankan families were beyond expectations and purely enriching, in spite of the language barrier. We communicated beyond words and learned to appreciate the simplicity and resourcefulness of the villagers’ lifestyle.
Our trip also entailed other unforgettable experiences. We explored the local cultures and faith communities by visiting Buddhist and Hindu temples, including the Dambulla Rock Temple and Temple of the Tooth in Kandy. Coincidentally, Pope Francis visited Sri Lanka for the first time while we were in the country and experienced locals’ enthusiasm for his visit, even after learning that Christians are a minority.
While all of our experiences were remarkable, what will most resonate in our minds, hearts, and souls will be the days of Shramadana, where we helped build betterment with the Sri Lankan community and the community helped build us into stronger, more thoughtful, and more grateful people.
Quest Badlands: 2015
The word “Badlands” had this mystical connotation in my head prior to the trip. On our way out, I’d like to think I was feeling what the first people traveling West felt, but from a much different perspective – a civilized, raised in the city perspective. Still, I had thirst for freedom in my left pocket and a bottle of garlic pills in my right, and my head tilted toward the window at the grasslands framing I-94.
(FYI the garlic pills were not actually in my pocket, but are a commonly used to ward off ticks … It kind of worked. Kind of.)
Upon arrival, I couldn’t help but stare at the landscape. It awed me, and it felt good to feel small under Mother Nature’s shadow instead of a steel building’s. We set up camp for the following week and a half, and I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I had a quick moment of panic before crawling into my sleeping bag. What was I doing out here, in North Dakota, for 10 days? What was I trying to accomplish? Or prove?
I fell asleep instead of landing on an answer.
But my answer came the following morning when I heard hooves on the grass and heavy breaths. The people in my tent, including myself, jumped up and unzipped the tent. There, standing near, was a bison. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I felt like a child again.
I realized, later of course, that the answer to “What was I doing in North Dakota” was very simple – to have a lot of “firsts.” Much like a child, I wanted to see things I’ve never seen before. I was trying to accomplish tasks I wasn’t taught to do with my civilized upbringing. I was trying to learn about the place where I came from, the wilderness. And I wasn’t trying to prove anything, save that knowledge is truly the best currency.
And learn, we did. On behalf of my friends, I’ll list a few firsts some experienced:
It’s easy to learn, and to seek, but through all my firsts, the Badlands taught me how hard it is to do. Knowledge can only go so far if it isn’t implemented. And I tried – I biked through the arboretum the day after we returned, listening to bird calls and attempting to name the source. The cars were kind of distracting. That night I tried to close my eyes and put my feet in Lake Mendota, but I didn’t want to get my feet green, to be honest.
I think that’s a reason why we have conservation – because someone decided to do something with the knowledge they learned about the environment; because of the sheer reality we can’t find that sense of wilderness and connection in a place where humans dominate. For that reason, I’ll appreciate the time I spent in the Badlands for quite some time. And instead of feeling down about my lack of wilderness (which is easy to do), all I can do find my sense of place here, and thrive in it.
And impatiently wait until I’m under a butte again.
The word “Badlands” had this mystical connotation in my head prior to the trip. On our way out, I’d like to think I was feeling what the first people traveling West felt, but from a much different perspective – a civilized, raised in the city perspective. Still, I had thirst for freedom in my left pocket and a bottle of garlic pills in my right, and my head tilted toward the window at the grasslands framing I-94.
(FYI the garlic pills were not actually in my pocket, but are a commonly used to ward off ticks … It kind of worked. Kind of.)
Upon arrival, I couldn’t help but stare at the landscape. It awed me, and it felt good to feel small under Mother Nature’s shadow instead of a steel building’s. We set up camp for the following week and a half, and I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I had a quick moment of panic before crawling into my sleeping bag. What was I doing out here, in North Dakota, for 10 days? What was I trying to accomplish? Or prove?
I fell asleep instead of landing on an answer.
But my answer came the following morning when I heard hooves on the grass and heavy breaths. The people in my tent, including myself, jumped up and unzipped the tent. There, standing near, was a bison. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I felt like a child again.
I realized, later of course, that the answer to “What was I doing in North Dakota” was very simple – to have a lot of “firsts.” Much like a child, I wanted to see things I’ve never seen before. I was trying to accomplish tasks I wasn’t taught to do with my civilized upbringing. I was trying to learn about the place where I came from, the wilderness. And I wasn’t trying to prove anything, save that knowledge is truly the best currency.
And learn, we did. On behalf of my friends, I’ll list a few firsts some experienced:
- Sawing a trail post
- Drilling a sign onto said trail post
- Carrying that (100 lb) trail post three miles
- Reading poetry on a butte
- Holding down a calf while a ranger branded it
- Feeding “cakes” to cows
- Getting pretty, purple shoes completely caked in mud
- Not showering for five or six days
- Naming birds based off their calls
- Seeing a flare from an oil field while the sun set over buttes
It’s easy to learn, and to seek, but through all my firsts, the Badlands taught me how hard it is to do. Knowledge can only go so far if it isn’t implemented. And I tried – I biked through the arboretum the day after we returned, listening to bird calls and attempting to name the source. The cars were kind of distracting. That night I tried to close my eyes and put my feet in Lake Mendota, but I didn’t want to get my feet green, to be honest.
I think that’s a reason why we have conservation – because someone decided to do something with the knowledge they learned about the environment; because of the sheer reality we can’t find that sense of wilderness and connection in a place where humans dominate. For that reason, I’ll appreciate the time I spent in the Badlands for quite some time. And instead of feeling down about my lack of wilderness (which is easy to do), all I can do find my sense of place here, and thrive in it.
And impatiently wait until I’m under a butte again.
Quest Israel-Palestine: 2013
In the past I, along with many others, have been told that there always has been and always will be conflict in the Middle East. Therefore, I innocently and genuinely have wondered “why must the Israelis and Palestinians live in conflict?” After my return from Quest: Israel-Palestine, I read these same questions sent in by readers while flipping through a National Geographic magazine. With my recent experience in Israel and Palestine, I felt discomfort by reading these questions that I asked myself so many times before. I think this is because the conflict and life in Israel and Palestine have become so much more personal to me now, while these questions seem impersonal and distant from the conflict. They are valid questions though, rooted in the idea of peace, yet they seem to lack much understanding. Israel and Palestine is not just an area of conflict, but a land of history, religion, narratives, ideology, and, most importantly, peaceful human beings. On Quest: Israel and Palestine, my group met with many individuals and organizations to build our understanding of these intertwining aspects of the land and conflict, and, also, to show how they are working towards peace.
We started off our trip in the village of Ibillin in the Gaililee region of Israel. Father Elias Chacour established the Mar Elias Educational Institute (MEEI) with hopes of bringing peace through education; MEEI is one of the the few interfaith schools in Israel which welcomes Jewish, Muslim, Christian, and Druze students and staff. The need to love and accept the “other” is integrated into the education at MEEI. During our time in Ibillin, we learned of the narrative and life of Palestinians living within Israel whose families were displaced from their homes in 1948 and became internal refugees. Father Chacour spoke words of peace and hope when we met with him. I will always remember his theological words- “God does not kill”- and one of his strategies to bring hope- Jews and Arab Palestinians must remember their peaceful relations within Palestine before 1948 in order to move past the current conflict.
A couple days after we left Ibillin, we met with a Jewish Israeli woman named Dalia. She spoke of her experience in Israel and how her personal narrative is intertwined into the conflict. Dalia, at one year old, moved with her parents to Israel during the 1948 war in hopes for a safe, peaceful place to live after the horrific tragedies of the Holocaust which drove many other European Jewish families to Israel. When Dalia was 19 years old still living in the same house which her family moved into when they arrived in Israel, a Palestinian man came to her door hoping to see the house which he lived in before his family was forcefully displaced during the 1948 war. She, an Israeli Jew, and this Palestinian man then built a rare friendship within the context of the conflict. This relationship was the origin of her decision to turn her house into a coexistence childcare and programming facility for Arab Palestinian and Jewish Israeli children. The programs facilitated by Dalia’s organization Open House focus on peace education, leadership training, and, most importantly, allowing Arab Palestinian and Jewish Israeli children to interact with each other.
Nearing the end of our trip, we met with Wi’am, a Palestinian conflict resolution center in Bethlehem which works towards peace through education, empowerment, and restorative mediation. We learned specifically about Wi’am’s educational dialogue and courses focused on conflict resolution for students, its programs and communities created for women’s empowerment, and its legal mediation where it advocates for Palestinian rights in court cases against the Israeli government. The Palestinian community within the West Bank has a different narrative and lives in a different reality than the Palestinian community in Israel- a narrative and reality of occupation, check-points, refugee camps, separation wall, water restrictions, and deeper economic depression. Wi’am is an essential and unique organization because it works to peacefully resolve the conflict by empowering this Palestinian community.
During our time in Bethlehem, we had the opportunity to meet with a Palestinian olive tree farmer who had recently had his olive tree fields burned by Israeli settlers. Many of the olive trees burned were around 80 years old and took about 15 years to bear fruit; he had put abundant time, effort, and care into his trees. I asked him what he would do next- with pain in his face showing his agonized heart, he calmly said that he would plant more trees. It seems like an obvious or simple response, yet it is derived from his, and more broadly, persistence to work towards a peaceful life and courage to resist injustice.
Considering just these encounters with organizations and individuals, one can see a bit of the complexity of how narratives, history, and ideology intertwines to form the conflict. Many Palestinians were forcefully displaced from their homes only to become international or internal refugees. The Palestinians in Israel suffer deeply institutionalized discrimination, while, simultaneously, Palestinians within the West Bank suffer from occupation. These narratives of discrimination are intertwined with the Jewish narrative of a horrific past and desire for a safe, independent state. With the reality of limited contact between Jewish Israelis and Arab Palestinians, understanding and accepting one another is nearly impossible. So when I ask myself or hear someone else ask, “why must Israeli Jews and Palestinians live in conflict?” I must force myself to recognize the complexity of the narratives, history, ideology, and the realities of the land. I must again realize that the conflict is complicated and cannot simply be viewed from the outside- the injustice is too great. Yet, although the conflict must be understood with its complexities, I can understand more simply that many Jewish Israelis and Arab Palestinians dream of, work towards, and live for peace and reconciliation in their land of conflict.
In the past I, along with many others, have been told that there always has been and always will be conflict in the Middle East. Therefore, I innocently and genuinely have wondered “why must the Israelis and Palestinians live in conflict?” After my return from Quest: Israel-Palestine, I read these same questions sent in by readers while flipping through a National Geographic magazine. With my recent experience in Israel and Palestine, I felt discomfort by reading these questions that I asked myself so many times before. I think this is because the conflict and life in Israel and Palestine have become so much more personal to me now, while these questions seem impersonal and distant from the conflict. They are valid questions though, rooted in the idea of peace, yet they seem to lack much understanding. Israel and Palestine is not just an area of conflict, but a land of history, religion, narratives, ideology, and, most importantly, peaceful human beings. On Quest: Israel and Palestine, my group met with many individuals and organizations to build our understanding of these intertwining aspects of the land and conflict, and, also, to show how they are working towards peace.
We started off our trip in the village of Ibillin in the Gaililee region of Israel. Father Elias Chacour established the Mar Elias Educational Institute (MEEI) with hopes of bringing peace through education; MEEI is one of the the few interfaith schools in Israel which welcomes Jewish, Muslim, Christian, and Druze students and staff. The need to love and accept the “other” is integrated into the education at MEEI. During our time in Ibillin, we learned of the narrative and life of Palestinians living within Israel whose families were displaced from their homes in 1948 and became internal refugees. Father Chacour spoke words of peace and hope when we met with him. I will always remember his theological words- “God does not kill”- and one of his strategies to bring hope- Jews and Arab Palestinians must remember their peaceful relations within Palestine before 1948 in order to move past the current conflict.
A couple days after we left Ibillin, we met with a Jewish Israeli woman named Dalia. She spoke of her experience in Israel and how her personal narrative is intertwined into the conflict. Dalia, at one year old, moved with her parents to Israel during the 1948 war in hopes for a safe, peaceful place to live after the horrific tragedies of the Holocaust which drove many other European Jewish families to Israel. When Dalia was 19 years old still living in the same house which her family moved into when they arrived in Israel, a Palestinian man came to her door hoping to see the house which he lived in before his family was forcefully displaced during the 1948 war. She, an Israeli Jew, and this Palestinian man then built a rare friendship within the context of the conflict. This relationship was the origin of her decision to turn her house into a coexistence childcare and programming facility for Arab Palestinian and Jewish Israeli children. The programs facilitated by Dalia’s organization Open House focus on peace education, leadership training, and, most importantly, allowing Arab Palestinian and Jewish Israeli children to interact with each other.
Nearing the end of our trip, we met with Wi’am, a Palestinian conflict resolution center in Bethlehem which works towards peace through education, empowerment, and restorative mediation. We learned specifically about Wi’am’s educational dialogue and courses focused on conflict resolution for students, its programs and communities created for women’s empowerment, and its legal mediation where it advocates for Palestinian rights in court cases against the Israeli government. The Palestinian community within the West Bank has a different narrative and lives in a different reality than the Palestinian community in Israel- a narrative and reality of occupation, check-points, refugee camps, separation wall, water restrictions, and deeper economic depression. Wi’am is an essential and unique organization because it works to peacefully resolve the conflict by empowering this Palestinian community.
During our time in Bethlehem, we had the opportunity to meet with a Palestinian olive tree farmer who had recently had his olive tree fields burned by Israeli settlers. Many of the olive trees burned were around 80 years old and took about 15 years to bear fruit; he had put abundant time, effort, and care into his trees. I asked him what he would do next- with pain in his face showing his agonized heart, he calmly said that he would plant more trees. It seems like an obvious or simple response, yet it is derived from his, and more broadly, persistence to work towards a peaceful life and courage to resist injustice.
Considering just these encounters with organizations and individuals, one can see a bit of the complexity of how narratives, history, and ideology intertwines to form the conflict. Many Palestinians were forcefully displaced from their homes only to become international or internal refugees. The Palestinians in Israel suffer deeply institutionalized discrimination, while, simultaneously, Palestinians within the West Bank suffer from occupation. These narratives of discrimination are intertwined with the Jewish narrative of a horrific past and desire for a safe, independent state. With the reality of limited contact between Jewish Israelis and Arab Palestinians, understanding and accepting one another is nearly impossible. So when I ask myself or hear someone else ask, “why must Israeli Jews and Palestinians live in conflict?” I must force myself to recognize the complexity of the narratives, history, ideology, and the realities of the land. I must again realize that the conflict is complicated and cannot simply be viewed from the outside- the injustice is too great. Yet, although the conflict must be understood with its complexities, I can understand more simply that many Jewish Israelis and Arab Palestinians dream of, work towards, and live for peace and reconciliation in their land of conflict.
Quest Kenya: 2013
Quest was a turning point for me.
My sophomore year of college, I had an epiphany. I had been living inside my comfort zone for way too long. I had this epiphany a few weeks after deciding not to submit my application for a study abroad program to Ghana. I had a history of this- choosing to stay in my comfort zone over an experience that would push my limits and help me grow as a person. In eighth grade I backed out of a trip to Florida with my youth group, I’ve attended countless informational meetings on spring break mission trips but never followed through with them, and now this. I was frustrated with myself and decided that no matter what I was going to find something that would put me outside of my comfort zone, and I was going to follow through with it.
A few weeks after making this decision, I walked by The Crossing and saw the advertisement for Quest Kenya. I had always wanted to travel to Africa, and felt God was giving me an amazing opportunity to fulfill this dream and keep my promise to myself. I went home, did some research and found out the trip was working with children- as an Education major, it couldn’t be more perfect. Before I could think too hard about it, I was applying, interviewing, and accepting the offer to go on the trip to Kenya. Committing myself to go on a 16 day trip with a campus ministry I never attended, a group of people I never met, and to a country I knew absolutely nothing about was the most terrifying thing I have ever done. It was also the most rewarding thing I have ever done.
Quest Kenya opened my eyes not only to the beauty of East Africa, but to the beauty of stepping outside your comfort zone. In 16 short days, I made a great group of American and Kenyan friends- my Quest group still gets together a few times a month to catch up and Facebook has been a great way to stay connected across countries! In 16 short days, I saw true poverty coupled with true happiness and began to change my perception of what is truly important in life. In 16 short days, I found a confidence and strength in myself that has not left almost 2 years after traveling to Kenya. In fact, the appreciation I learned for East Africa and the confidence I gained during the Quest trip led me to apply and accept a position in another study abroad program- teaching for two and a half months in Uganda- and this time, I didn't back out! Going on Quest was a turning point for me. The lessons I learned, the people I met, and the strength I found in myself will stay with me for a lifetime.
Quest was a turning point for me.
My sophomore year of college, I had an epiphany. I had been living inside my comfort zone for way too long. I had this epiphany a few weeks after deciding not to submit my application for a study abroad program to Ghana. I had a history of this- choosing to stay in my comfort zone over an experience that would push my limits and help me grow as a person. In eighth grade I backed out of a trip to Florida with my youth group, I’ve attended countless informational meetings on spring break mission trips but never followed through with them, and now this. I was frustrated with myself and decided that no matter what I was going to find something that would put me outside of my comfort zone, and I was going to follow through with it.
A few weeks after making this decision, I walked by The Crossing and saw the advertisement for Quest Kenya. I had always wanted to travel to Africa, and felt God was giving me an amazing opportunity to fulfill this dream and keep my promise to myself. I went home, did some research and found out the trip was working with children- as an Education major, it couldn’t be more perfect. Before I could think too hard about it, I was applying, interviewing, and accepting the offer to go on the trip to Kenya. Committing myself to go on a 16 day trip with a campus ministry I never attended, a group of people I never met, and to a country I knew absolutely nothing about was the most terrifying thing I have ever done. It was also the most rewarding thing I have ever done.
Quest Kenya opened my eyes not only to the beauty of East Africa, but to the beauty of stepping outside your comfort zone. In 16 short days, I made a great group of American and Kenyan friends- my Quest group still gets together a few times a month to catch up and Facebook has been a great way to stay connected across countries! In 16 short days, I saw true poverty coupled with true happiness and began to change my perception of what is truly important in life. In 16 short days, I found a confidence and strength in myself that has not left almost 2 years after traveling to Kenya. In fact, the appreciation I learned for East Africa and the confidence I gained during the Quest trip led me to apply and accept a position in another study abroad program- teaching for two and a half months in Uganda- and this time, I didn't back out! Going on Quest was a turning point for me. The lessons I learned, the people I met, and the strength I found in myself will stay with me for a lifetime.
Quest Costa Rica: 2013
Travel for me, while incredibly fun and exciting, serves as a much-needed opportunity for reflection—a challenge to think about the world in which we live and how exactly we fit into it. While most all of my past travel experiences have prompted this sort of thinking in some sense, the Quest trip to Costa Rica this past January has inspired and challenged me more deeply, to my very core: it has made me reflect upon my passions while at the same time igniting new ones, and has challenged me to that difficult task of opening my heart and mind to being transformed by the realities of my dear brothers and sisters around the world as their perspectives move me beyond my own narrow understandings.
Costa Rica was the perfect place to rediscover the landscape and thus to reflect on our place in it. Our busy lives here in Madison and in most places in the United States are filled to the max with appointments, classes, and anything else to fill our time. The culture that I experienced in Costa Rica contrasts so greatly, that it compels people to slow down; it heightens their senses, simply to allow them to take it all in.
The first day we spent in Costa Rica was in San José, the usually bustling capital city. It was, however, New Year’s Day, and a mere five or so shops were even open. However bummed we may have been initially, it was the perfect introduction to Costa Rican culture. The idea of an entire city being completely shut down, even for a holiday, was so foreign, but extremely refreshing. This “Pura Vida” culture permeated the entirety of our trip; whether we were in San Jose, Monteverde, or at the farm, I rarely knew what time it was or even what day it was. Never in my life have I been able to completely let go of everything going on around me just to live in the moment and experience life in its most raw form.
The first part of this Quest’s theme—rooted to the land— represents our mission for the trip, the cause that brought us all together in the first place. We set out to learn about sustainability—how one can continue with their daily lives as technology and the demands of society rises, while still supporting long-term ecological balance. This, as we learned in our time at La Finca Pasiflora with Wade, requires more than a lot of hard work; rather it requires a pure commitment to and love for what one does and a desire to maintain the land that gives us so much. The profit crops on Wade’s farm were few, but he and his family planted things like flowers and sold chickens at a farmers market where he made almost no profit, merely because it is what they love to do. The commitment Wade and his family put into their farm, the way they used and gave back to the land, compelled me to reflect on my own daily activities, how the things I do affect the land and what I could possibly do to make that a more positive relationship.
Working on the farm, while a lot of work, was also a ton of fun. Most all of us got to milk the cow at least once; Jen, our group leader, however, woke up early just about everyday to help. A few brave souls joined Wade in butchering his chickens and although I couldn’t quite bring myself to swing the machete, being present in that task gave me a newfound respect for where my food comes from and the hands that have prepared it. Our big project on the farm was building a greenhouse. To do this, we literally went into the woods. Wade chopped down the trees, and we carried them out, skinned them with our machetes, and began the building process. This was, especially in the intense heat, quite draining. Realizing this is what Wade and many other farmers do everyday gave me deep respect for what they do. Moreover, the fact that he and his family went out of their way to take us to town, show us a beautiful waterfall that led to an insanely gorgeous pool, take us on a hike, make all of our delicious meals, etc. was incredibly humbling. Taking time out of their day to do these things meant work that was not getting done, and I cannot say how grateful I am for their incredible hospitality.
The second part of our theme—connected to each other— serves as a beautiful image as to the very essence of our group. The ease with which our nine-member group got along was incredibly refreshing. Instant bonds were made and strengthened throughout the trip, thanks to the fact that we were constantly in each other’s presence. Through the long layovers, car ride conversations, and the Ignatius process every night, we got to know each other so well, possibly better than I know some people that I’ve known for years.
The best way I can think to describe this Quest trip is raw in the sense of pure and natural; raw in our friendships, raw in our appearances, raw in the tasks that we did everyday—experiencing nature with no technology or outside distractions—raw in the carefree attitudes of the people we met. Costa Rica, both the land and my dear Ticos, will forever have a special place in my heart.
Travel for me, while incredibly fun and exciting, serves as a much-needed opportunity for reflection—a challenge to think about the world in which we live and how exactly we fit into it. While most all of my past travel experiences have prompted this sort of thinking in some sense, the Quest trip to Costa Rica this past January has inspired and challenged me more deeply, to my very core: it has made me reflect upon my passions while at the same time igniting new ones, and has challenged me to that difficult task of opening my heart and mind to being transformed by the realities of my dear brothers and sisters around the world as their perspectives move me beyond my own narrow understandings.
Costa Rica was the perfect place to rediscover the landscape and thus to reflect on our place in it. Our busy lives here in Madison and in most places in the United States are filled to the max with appointments, classes, and anything else to fill our time. The culture that I experienced in Costa Rica contrasts so greatly, that it compels people to slow down; it heightens their senses, simply to allow them to take it all in.
The first day we spent in Costa Rica was in San José, the usually bustling capital city. It was, however, New Year’s Day, and a mere five or so shops were even open. However bummed we may have been initially, it was the perfect introduction to Costa Rican culture. The idea of an entire city being completely shut down, even for a holiday, was so foreign, but extremely refreshing. This “Pura Vida” culture permeated the entirety of our trip; whether we were in San Jose, Monteverde, or at the farm, I rarely knew what time it was or even what day it was. Never in my life have I been able to completely let go of everything going on around me just to live in the moment and experience life in its most raw form.
The first part of this Quest’s theme—rooted to the land— represents our mission for the trip, the cause that brought us all together in the first place. We set out to learn about sustainability—how one can continue with their daily lives as technology and the demands of society rises, while still supporting long-term ecological balance. This, as we learned in our time at La Finca Pasiflora with Wade, requires more than a lot of hard work; rather it requires a pure commitment to and love for what one does and a desire to maintain the land that gives us so much. The profit crops on Wade’s farm were few, but he and his family planted things like flowers and sold chickens at a farmers market where he made almost no profit, merely because it is what they love to do. The commitment Wade and his family put into their farm, the way they used and gave back to the land, compelled me to reflect on my own daily activities, how the things I do affect the land and what I could possibly do to make that a more positive relationship.
Working on the farm, while a lot of work, was also a ton of fun. Most all of us got to milk the cow at least once; Jen, our group leader, however, woke up early just about everyday to help. A few brave souls joined Wade in butchering his chickens and although I couldn’t quite bring myself to swing the machete, being present in that task gave me a newfound respect for where my food comes from and the hands that have prepared it. Our big project on the farm was building a greenhouse. To do this, we literally went into the woods. Wade chopped down the trees, and we carried them out, skinned them with our machetes, and began the building process. This was, especially in the intense heat, quite draining. Realizing this is what Wade and many other farmers do everyday gave me deep respect for what they do. Moreover, the fact that he and his family went out of their way to take us to town, show us a beautiful waterfall that led to an insanely gorgeous pool, take us on a hike, make all of our delicious meals, etc. was incredibly humbling. Taking time out of their day to do these things meant work that was not getting done, and I cannot say how grateful I am for their incredible hospitality.
The second part of our theme—connected to each other— serves as a beautiful image as to the very essence of our group. The ease with which our nine-member group got along was incredibly refreshing. Instant bonds were made and strengthened throughout the trip, thanks to the fact that we were constantly in each other’s presence. Through the long layovers, car ride conversations, and the Ignatius process every night, we got to know each other so well, possibly better than I know some people that I’ve known for years.
The best way I can think to describe this Quest trip is raw in the sense of pure and natural; raw in our friendships, raw in our appearances, raw in the tasks that we did everyday—experiencing nature with no technology or outside distractions—raw in the carefree attitudes of the people we met. Costa Rica, both the land and my dear Ticos, will forever have a special place in my heart.
Quest Costa Rica: 2012
This winter break I had the opportunity to travel on Quest: Costa Rica. After arriving in San Jose the night before, we packed into a van the next morning for a trip through the cloud-covered mountains. Our eyes were glued to the windows the whole time, taking in the breath-taking, exotic scenery. Eventually, we came to a gravel road where we unloaded our things and hiked the rest of the way to Finca Pasiflora, a 70-acre organic farm that practices agro-forestry. The farm produces a variety of goods and generates all of its own electricity; the running water from a local stream makes the farm almost completely self-sustaining. The only piece of mechanized equipment was an old truck used to make the long trek into town when necessary.
Upon arriving on the Finca we were greeted by Wade and his family, who would host us for the rest of our stay. We then spent the better part of a week working and exploring the rainforests surrounding the farm. The work we did clearing entire fields with just a machete was exhausting, but at the same time extremely rewarding. Wade’s appreciation for the work we did was obvious: his voice would fill with excitement as he looked over the newly planted field talking about what it would look like in a few months. After a week on the farm we were sad to have to say our goodbyes, but we knew we would never forget out time on the Finca.
The theme of this trip was “Life: Simplified.” I went in thinking that it was about experiencing a life more conscientious about our impact on the environment. Although that was part of it, it was also about something much more profound than that. It was a trip about learning to live all aspects of life more simply, to get out of it what is really important. If you haven’t already guessed, it is quite difficult to get phone service or internet access in the middle of the rainforest. This really helped all of us to reflect on what was truly important, and how much some of the luxuries we have actually detract from our lives. I’m not suggesting that we all pick up and become organic farmers in Costa Rica (trust me, that is far from a simple way to live), but there are ways to begin to live more simply. Recently, I began an “electronic detox” by setting aside my phone and sources of social media after dinner every day. It is not always an easy thing to do and it’s far too easy to slip back into it without even realizing it. So far, I have found that I am much less distracted and I have a lot more free time to just sit and think. I have come to the realization that not every minute of y day has to be filled with an activity, and I am much happier because of it. I think one of the beautifies of all Quest trips is that being separated from your everyday life with a group of people you barely know allows you to build strong relationships with these people and really experience wherever your Quest takes you.
This winter break I had the opportunity to travel on Quest: Costa Rica. After arriving in San Jose the night before, we packed into a van the next morning for a trip through the cloud-covered mountains. Our eyes were glued to the windows the whole time, taking in the breath-taking, exotic scenery. Eventually, we came to a gravel road where we unloaded our things and hiked the rest of the way to Finca Pasiflora, a 70-acre organic farm that practices agro-forestry. The farm produces a variety of goods and generates all of its own electricity; the running water from a local stream makes the farm almost completely self-sustaining. The only piece of mechanized equipment was an old truck used to make the long trek into town when necessary.
Upon arriving on the Finca we were greeted by Wade and his family, who would host us for the rest of our stay. We then spent the better part of a week working and exploring the rainforests surrounding the farm. The work we did clearing entire fields with just a machete was exhausting, but at the same time extremely rewarding. Wade’s appreciation for the work we did was obvious: his voice would fill with excitement as he looked over the newly planted field talking about what it would look like in a few months. After a week on the farm we were sad to have to say our goodbyes, but we knew we would never forget out time on the Finca.
The theme of this trip was “Life: Simplified.” I went in thinking that it was about experiencing a life more conscientious about our impact on the environment. Although that was part of it, it was also about something much more profound than that. It was a trip about learning to live all aspects of life more simply, to get out of it what is really important. If you haven’t already guessed, it is quite difficult to get phone service or internet access in the middle of the rainforest. This really helped all of us to reflect on what was truly important, and how much some of the luxuries we have actually detract from our lives. I’m not suggesting that we all pick up and become organic farmers in Costa Rica (trust me, that is far from a simple way to live), but there are ways to begin to live more simply. Recently, I began an “electronic detox” by setting aside my phone and sources of social media after dinner every day. It is not always an easy thing to do and it’s far too easy to slip back into it without even realizing it. So far, I have found that I am much less distracted and I have a lot more free time to just sit and think. I have come to the realization that not every minute of y day has to be filled with an activity, and I am much happier because of it. I think one of the beautifies of all Quest trips is that being separated from your everyday life with a group of people you barely know allows you to build strong relationships with these people and really experience wherever your Quest takes you.
Quest Kenya: 2011
The Kenyan Spirit
Kenya is a place known for many things. You usually hear about the poverty, disease, and corruption in the news, but one thing you don’t hear much about is the Kenyan Spirit. The people we met while working with the Jirani Project, a non-profit educational organization, showed our Quest group what this nation is really all about.
While in Kenya, we were confronted by some of the many hardships Kenyans face on a daily basis. In the first few days of our trip, the sister of a Jirani student died of malaria, a disease curable with medication. This was extremely sad to everyone involved, yet Mark’s expertise in social work allowed him to address the situation in a way that gave support to the friends, family, and children involved. Instead of mourning the death, everyone extended themselves to others in a time of need. This is a characteristic of the Kenyan spirit and demonstrates how the people we met act so unselfishly in their daily lives.
When we visited Mark’s home, we found the Kenyan spirit once again. On this small plot of land, he grew his own food, raised his own animals, and milled his own grain. We also got to meet his family: his wife, three children, his mother, and four of the Jirani children who he fosters. He is trying to procure the funding for another property next door to his house. If he can someday purchase the land, he plans to build a school for the Jirani Project and another building so he can foster more children as the organization grows.
As we try to absorb all of the experiences we had in Kenya there is one thing we all are certain we learned from, and this is the great spirit of all the people we met during our travels. As Mahatma Gandhi once said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” The people of Kenya take this to heart, and they display it by their benevolence, courage, and determination to break the cycle of poverty. These characteristics are what make up the Kenyan spirit. And if these characteristics are implemented into our lives, we just might discover that they can make positive impacts to our lives as well.
The Kenyan Spirit
Kenya is a place known for many things. You usually hear about the poverty, disease, and corruption in the news, but one thing you don’t hear much about is the Kenyan Spirit. The people we met while working with the Jirani Project, a non-profit educational organization, showed our Quest group what this nation is really all about.
While in Kenya, we were confronted by some of the many hardships Kenyans face on a daily basis. In the first few days of our trip, the sister of a Jirani student died of malaria, a disease curable with medication. This was extremely sad to everyone involved, yet Mark’s expertise in social work allowed him to address the situation in a way that gave support to the friends, family, and children involved. Instead of mourning the death, everyone extended themselves to others in a time of need. This is a characteristic of the Kenyan spirit and demonstrates how the people we met act so unselfishly in their daily lives.
When we visited Mark’s home, we found the Kenyan spirit once again. On this small plot of land, he grew his own food, raised his own animals, and milled his own grain. We also got to meet his family: his wife, three children, his mother, and four of the Jirani children who he fosters. He is trying to procure the funding for another property next door to his house. If he can someday purchase the land, he plans to build a school for the Jirani Project and another building so he can foster more children as the organization grows.
As we try to absorb all of the experiences we had in Kenya there is one thing we all are certain we learned from, and this is the great spirit of all the people we met during our travels. As Mahatma Gandhi once said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” The people of Kenya take this to heart, and they display it by their benevolence, courage, and determination to break the cycle of poverty. These characteristics are what make up the Kenyan spirit. And if these characteristics are implemented into our lives, we just might discover that they can make positive impacts to our lives as well.
Quest Nepal: 2011
Why We Serve
“So… why do you serve?” That was the question that Quest Nepal students answered enthusiastically at a citywide conference recently…. In Kathmandu. While their memories of the previous week were still fresh, they spoke to 120 or more teachers and students from colleges throughout the city. All Stephanie, Emily, Chris, Alex and Denise had to do was download the images of the village of Shikharpa that were still clear in their minds and hearts- smiles and mud, meditation, stunning mountain scenery, days of labor, dancing, bricks and mortar… and hospitality from families whose welcome would not be forgotten decades from now.
Sarvodaya, the host organization for the trip, had given them some pretty good hints about what to expect. Coined by Mahatma Gandhi himself, the word means “the awakening of all.” In the candle-lit darkness with kids, high school students and village leaders, Questers had discussed the trade-offs between economics development and the environment as well as American foreign policy and Nepali government.
Yes, the Quest Nepal group saw elephants and could have almost touched the leathery hides of a mother rhinoceros and her offspring in the Chitwan National Park. The group did, indeed, watch the sun rise above Annapurna, thousands of meters high, and they did climb out the tiny exit of a cave where thousands of bats hung from the wet ceiling. They saw the pre-adolescent “living goddess” sitting serenely at the Kathmandu marketplace; wrapped themselves in scarves of yak’s wool to keep out the bone-chilling cold; hiked past monkeys who were, well… into temples and the back alleys of the Thamel, and jumped rope with happy children whose smiles and energy seemed without end.
By the time their body clocks got adjusted to the 12-hour difference between Wisconsin and Nepal as well as some dietary changes, it was almost time to fly back home. But they will most likely remember the days and nights of Shikharpa, where they may well have received as much as they gave.
Why We Serve
“So… why do you serve?” That was the question that Quest Nepal students answered enthusiastically at a citywide conference recently…. In Kathmandu. While their memories of the previous week were still fresh, they spoke to 120 or more teachers and students from colleges throughout the city. All Stephanie, Emily, Chris, Alex and Denise had to do was download the images of the village of Shikharpa that were still clear in their minds and hearts- smiles and mud, meditation, stunning mountain scenery, days of labor, dancing, bricks and mortar… and hospitality from families whose welcome would not be forgotten decades from now.
Sarvodaya, the host organization for the trip, had given them some pretty good hints about what to expect. Coined by Mahatma Gandhi himself, the word means “the awakening of all.” In the candle-lit darkness with kids, high school students and village leaders, Questers had discussed the trade-offs between economics development and the environment as well as American foreign policy and Nepali government.
Yes, the Quest Nepal group saw elephants and could have almost touched the leathery hides of a mother rhinoceros and her offspring in the Chitwan National Park. The group did, indeed, watch the sun rise above Annapurna, thousands of meters high, and they did climb out the tiny exit of a cave where thousands of bats hung from the wet ceiling. They saw the pre-adolescent “living goddess” sitting serenely at the Kathmandu marketplace; wrapped themselves in scarves of yak’s wool to keep out the bone-chilling cold; hiked past monkeys who were, well… into temples and the back alleys of the Thamel, and jumped rope with happy children whose smiles and energy seemed without end.
By the time their body clocks got adjusted to the 12-hour difference between Wisconsin and Nepal as well as some dietary changes, it was almost time to fly back home. But they will most likely remember the days and nights of Shikharpa, where they may well have received as much as they gave.
Quest Badlands: 2009
Benjamin Franklin said that if you, “Tell me, I forget. Show me, I remember. Involve me, I understand.” This quote demonstrates the idea that it is better to learn by doing, but my trip to the Badlands taught me that, sometimes, involvement is the ONLY way to learn. North Dakota may seem like an unlikely destination to study conservation issues, acquire wilderness knowledge, and cultivate a deep sense of place and belonging, but through our experience volunteering in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, twelve of us did just that.
The local communities of the Badlands of North Dakota have experienced environmental conflicts throughout the past few decades. Ranchers and conservationists have argued over the fate of the National Grasslands and these disputes and disagreements have led to an unfortunate rift between the two groups, leaving little room for beneficial decisions to be made about the land. In an environmental conservation class hundreds of students, including myself and many of those who traveled to the Badlands, learned that the irony of the whole wrangle is that both groups are essentially fighting for the same thing: to leave the land as it is. After hearing lectures about the interesting conflicts happening just a few states away from our own, The Crossing offered the opportunity to go to the Badlands and experience first-hand the conservation issues, as well as work within an underutilized, but astonishing, national park to protect the land and its inhabitants, and learn more about the world around us and our unique place within it.
The conservation issues we studied and explored both in the classroom and in the Badlands interested everyone in the group, but it was in other exciting and unexpected ways that we learned and grew the most.
Over our four days working in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, we learned the value of a hard day’s work by repairing fences, digging trenches, building structures, and hauling equipment, barbed wire, wooden planks, and fence posts for miles. We also grew to recognize and appreciate all of the birds, plants, and other species that surrounded us in such a new and unfamiliar landscape. We left our worksite being able to differentiate between the call of a meadowlark and a rock wren and understand the subtle nuances in scent of a white, silver, and fringed sage. We also gained the ability to scout out the best juniper trees under which to enjoy a relaxing lunch and poetry reading session out of the hot midday sun. We became one with the Badlands.
Most importantly, we were blessed to work with a brilliant man named John. John is a rancher, park ranger, conservationist, wilderness philosopher, and Badlands connoisseur. Through his words, thoughts, and actions he taught us how to discover and appreciate our place in the world and to value the importance of respecting and living harmoniously with the Earth. It was incredible to watch as he inspired each of us every day, brought us together as a group, and left his mark on us in ways that helped us all return home with a new desire to learn and understand the world around us.
In the Badlands we left our blood, sweat, and tears, along with small pieces of our heart strung about the land. We improved a national park and renewed faith in humanity for our teacher, mentor, and friends, John. In return, we came back to Wisconsin with new knowledge and understanding, with new friends and an eagerness to learn, and with the inspiration to discover where we belong in the world and the power to share that with others.
Benjamin Franklin said that if you, “Tell me, I forget. Show me, I remember. Involve me, I understand.” This quote demonstrates the idea that it is better to learn by doing, but my trip to the Badlands taught me that, sometimes, involvement is the ONLY way to learn. North Dakota may seem like an unlikely destination to study conservation issues, acquire wilderness knowledge, and cultivate a deep sense of place and belonging, but through our experience volunteering in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, twelve of us did just that.
The local communities of the Badlands of North Dakota have experienced environmental conflicts throughout the past few decades. Ranchers and conservationists have argued over the fate of the National Grasslands and these disputes and disagreements have led to an unfortunate rift between the two groups, leaving little room for beneficial decisions to be made about the land. In an environmental conservation class hundreds of students, including myself and many of those who traveled to the Badlands, learned that the irony of the whole wrangle is that both groups are essentially fighting for the same thing: to leave the land as it is. After hearing lectures about the interesting conflicts happening just a few states away from our own, The Crossing offered the opportunity to go to the Badlands and experience first-hand the conservation issues, as well as work within an underutilized, but astonishing, national park to protect the land and its inhabitants, and learn more about the world around us and our unique place within it.
The conservation issues we studied and explored both in the classroom and in the Badlands interested everyone in the group, but it was in other exciting and unexpected ways that we learned and grew the most.
Over our four days working in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, we learned the value of a hard day’s work by repairing fences, digging trenches, building structures, and hauling equipment, barbed wire, wooden planks, and fence posts for miles. We also grew to recognize and appreciate all of the birds, plants, and other species that surrounded us in such a new and unfamiliar landscape. We left our worksite being able to differentiate between the call of a meadowlark and a rock wren and understand the subtle nuances in scent of a white, silver, and fringed sage. We also gained the ability to scout out the best juniper trees under which to enjoy a relaxing lunch and poetry reading session out of the hot midday sun. We became one with the Badlands.
Most importantly, we were blessed to work with a brilliant man named John. John is a rancher, park ranger, conservationist, wilderness philosopher, and Badlands connoisseur. Through his words, thoughts, and actions he taught us how to discover and appreciate our place in the world and to value the importance of respecting and living harmoniously with the Earth. It was incredible to watch as he inspired each of us every day, brought us together as a group, and left his mark on us in ways that helped us all return home with a new desire to learn and understand the world around us.
In the Badlands we left our blood, sweat, and tears, along with small pieces of our heart strung about the land. We improved a national park and renewed faith in humanity for our teacher, mentor, and friends, John. In return, we came back to Wisconsin with new knowledge and understanding, with new friends and an eagerness to learn, and with the inspiration to discover where we belong in the world and the power to share that with others.
