The clock reads 7 o’clock as I stand amongst a group of strangers each with a name tag I read all but one same word: stranger #1, stranger #2, and stranger #3. Some seem to know what they are doing, while others look nervously on in a total lost. And there am I. With my khaki top tucked perfectly into my black pants and a wide smile concealing my nervous mind (yes, imagine Russell’s outfit in Pixar’s film Up), I bear an unmistakable resemblance to a new Girl Scout on her first mission: excited, nervous, and totally unprepared. Just like that, this team of thirty-two strangers waves goodbye to Taiwan. Thus begins this eager Girl Scout’s trip: a nine day journey from being clueless to still clueless. Well…with a couple irreplaceable flashback in between.

Flashback #1: It is often recommended to know where you are headed before you hop on a flight. I guess it is okay to not know, too…only sometimes.

As the EVA air flight 266 fly steadily along the Pacific, the thirty-two passengers are already hard at work with heads bending low, hands scribbling away. Three intimidating sheets of paper coded with scribbles in Cambodian lie facing each of us with big, colorful words on top that read CAMBODIA CUSTOMS AND VISA. I don’t think it would be wrong to say many, if not all, of us experienced some version of the following struggle:

Name: Check. Birthday: Check. Easy. Gender: Check. Flight Number: Hmm. Not quite sure, but it must be BR 2-something? Destination: Got me. No idea. Can’t really just write Cambodia, can I?

It’s Phnom Penh: the earthy, checkered land greeting us from below our aircraft with its brown rivers cutting through the desolate farm lands, also known as the city and heart of Cambodia. Thinking back, it wouldn’t be wrong to write “Cambodia” as our destination. After all, Phnom Penh is only our launching point into the truly needy country-sides of Cambodia. Phnom Penh isn’t a destination but merely a springboard into our journey. Next stop: the bus.

Flashback #2: Cambodian MTV: Best icebreaker. Brainwashing machine. Best means of cultural assimilation.

Our red bus with its never ending Cambodian MTV replays has grown on me. As many of us slumber off to sleep on the six hour long trip to FRA (our home for the week) and the daily drives to various villages, the high pitched one-of-its-kind Cambodian music plays on beneath the symphonies of snores from the human instruments on the bus. With the bumpy dirt roads (with occasional slips, drifts, and slides on rainy days) rocking us along the way, the red bus is truly an absolute cradle. A cradle of memories I’m sure all of us will remember dearly.

Flashback #3: I speak Cambodian. No, not really, not at all, but I know… charades.

I must admit I am totally at a lost on the first day facing the sea of children and adults waiting and kneeling in the sticky yellow dirt in front of the temple, not to mention the workers still hammering in the final nails of the construction right above our heads. I am beyond clueless on what to do. So exactly how do we communicate with the villagers? Thousands of questions flood my mind. Thanks to the more experienced volunteers, we begin work: the big game of charades. My mediocre acting skills come into play quite well. The gentle sweep of the arm meaning “please follow me to the registration desk”, my awkward hop onto the scale telling them to “weigh themselves please”, and the most frequent occurrence of all, my signature beam under the surgical mask (that I now realize they probably wouldn’t have seen!) confessing my absolute lost at what they are trying to tell me in their flow of foreign Cambodian tongue. I realize a change within me as the week fly by. By the end of the weeklong experience, I feel the barrier and insecurity within myself fade as I meet each person one at a time. It’s definitely not that I am any more fluent in Cambodian (I still know absolutely none today). With a smile, a sincere heart, and maybe some natural talent in playing charades, nothing is impossible.

Lesson #4: This trip will stay with me forever.

An experience like this will stay dear to me for many years to come. Putting off doing laundry the real old fashioned way under pumped water, dodging the mosquitoes while showering, struggling to kneel properly in the bathroom, and forgetting exactly what day it is already, there are so many more epic moments from this trip. All joking aside, what shape this trip is the people I have the privilege of working alongside with. Shout out to all thirty-two amazing people who open my eyes on this trip to the amazing knowledge, skill, passion, and last but not least, humor you all possess. Totaling at more than 500 patients per day and still smiling and joking around at the end of the day, I truly admire each and every one of you.

Remember that moment when we stand in the bathroom wondering at the cubical, the sink, and basically the modern world at the end of our journey. I see in the mirror reflections of a whole new world. My neatly tucked-in shirt from day one has long since become untucked from many days of hard work and sweat. The name tags on each person alongside me no longer read “stranger” but names and faces I will remember for a long time to come. The only thing that remains constant is my somewhat quirkiness and cluelessness. With a tweak to Ellie Fredricksen’s quote from the movie Up, I must say, “Thanks for the adventure. I’m ready for another one!”