Here’s a really memorable experience forever etched in my mind:
I did a month long trip to Uganda and Tanzania, during my summer break at Uni. Together with the Leeds RAG society, a student-run fundraising organisation, I raised funds for my trip and got into the rural areas to help build schools manually for the children.
My most memorable experience came one night when our mud house was infested with ants. There were black ants crawling all over our bodies, the hut itself, our gear, in our sleeping bags, in the cooking area, just everywhere! The locals poured kerosene over the walls, in the hopes of deterring the ants with the smell. However, as I was sleeping in the corner right at the back, the night was plagued with the crumpling of plastic as ants kept crawling all over my stuff still. Getting extremely paranoid and frightened of being bitten to death, I slipped out into the night with all of my gear and my sleeping bag.
I ventured into the black wilderness outside, got out my head lamp, and began to set up my tent all by myself. This was during strong chilly winds overhead, signalling a storm might be coming. I slept in my tent, all alone that night but at utter peace.
Recalling that incident, it was a decision which made me really appreciate the safety of a tent. Pitched well, and made well, it was like a sanctuary I could crawl into if I ever needed to escape the wilderness. I gained some new bravery for myself that night and it made me feel that hey, maybe I COULD actually survive in the wilderness. (seeing as I am a complete urban city person all my life)..