By Maya Secaira
I loved the dust. As we rode in a two van convoy through Niokolo Koba National Park, I breathed it in. It covered my face. It got on EVERYTHING. During the safari everyone on top of the second van got all the dust kicked back from the first van all over them.
My eyes were teary, my clothes turned a different color, I could taste the dirt in my mouth, and my hair was stiff and tangled. But I didn’t really care, and I didn’t really notice. To anyone else, I looked like a mess. And if you called me out on it I wouldn’t have stoped to think about it.
I was so happy that nothing else mattered but where I was. The dust made us laugh so much more, the branches hitting us in our faces became a game (our real life temple run as we called it). I was sweaty and stinky but not unhappy in the slightest.
Looking back now I realized If I were experiencing that in my day to day life, I would have been miserable. If my hair were tangled and dirty I would have panicked before class. If my makeup weren’t done I think I wouldn’t have left my room. If I got smacked in the face with a branch around a bunch of friends I would have been embarrassed. If I were smelly I would have been self conscious and If I had dirt in my eyes it’s I would have focused on.
But there on the roof of the van. All of it was just bliss. A day that could have been so uncomfortable, showed me how incredible it is to be out of your comfort zone. A day that I could have spent on my phone was one where I didn’t even know where it was. That day made me realize how many of the things I worry about can be so irrelevant in the bigger scope of things.
Back home the need to always look as perfect as I can, takes up so much of my time. And it takes up so much time for all of us. I don’t think that now I’ll show up to class without having showered for a few days but I don’t think my day will be ruined if my hair isn’t right. All of the “inconveniences” made my day so much brighter. And the dust made it so much better.
The dust made me love it so much more.

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