Remembering My First Overseas Trip
What it was like travelling to a tropical island with 35 teenagers
It’s after midnight at the end of December 2006. The Brisbane airport is deserted at this time of night/early morning. Thirty teenagers and a few leaders are waiting for their 4 am flight to Vanuatu.
For some like myself, it will be our first overseas trip ever. After three weeks of boot camp, this trip had already been an adventure: camping, obstacle courses, wet boots, and multiple injuries (thankfully not my own). We even had to take a girl to the hospital on the way to the airport after she tripped over a post walking to the bus and had a suspected dislocated/fractured finger.
The overseas adventure was just beginning.
Our first flight to Port Vila went without issue, only a couple of hours and breakfast before landing. After that, I don’t remember much about the airport other than it was small and a little busy. One of the girls gave all of our prepackaged UHT cheese to customs because she thought it wasn’t allowed into the country, leaving the team with no cheese for the next three weeks.
Navigating the airport with our heavy backpacks was a challenge, but eventually, we all were on our next flight — an hour-long to another island (I have forgotten what it was called, possibly Santos). The highlight for me was getting to sit next to the cutest guy on the team. Any 15-year-old girl’s dream, I know.
However, our third and final flight will always stay in my mind — a small 17-seater twin sea otter. Because our team was much larger, we had to split into two groups, with the plane making two trips.
I was on the first flight, and the weather was quite stormy. Poor weather and small non-pressurized planes are not fun, and for the entire 40 minutes, flight nausea and significant pressure in my ears meant I was praying for it just to end.
The pilots tried to descend slowly, but with the turbulence and high winds as bad as it was, there were moments when we dramatically dropped altitude as we came to land.
After flying on other small planes, I have since learned that small planes and I do not mix.
Finally, on the ground, the plane returned for the team’s second half, and we started to make our way to our accommodation.
Loading up on the back of utes/trucks, we set off. With the recent rain, several rivers had cut the road, and the next part of the journey needed to be by boat. Leaving our bags at a local church and climbing into motorised boats, the water was warm and clear as we made our way along the coastline.
It sounds perfect, but with the rain threatening to pour down, it was still quite overcast and the water choppy. Arriving on the shore, the trip’s final leg was to walk. ‘It’s not far, they said’
For someone who had been awake about 36hrs+, it felt a lot further than it probably was, but that final hill was an absolute killer!
I have distinct memories of huddling under the awning of one of the buildings saturated as the rain pelted down. We had no power, and given the time of day alongside the weather, it was uncertain if the rest of the team (along with our bags) would make it by nightfall.
Thankfully, they did, but not without having a little plane trouble.
It was an eventful start to three weeks of helping with various construction jobs at a local Christian school during the school holidays.
We dismantled concrete slabs and built-in verandas and repainted a church building. Life was simple, with very little electricity and cold showers. However, the water temperature wasn’t too freezing because it was summer in a tropical climate.
One day that sticks out in my mind was when we hiked to a local village in the mountains. It took a couple of hours and was quite remote. On this part of the island, people spoke French rather than English. Amazingly, a couple of girls on our team spoke French and could share a simple gospel message with the crowd of people who had gathered.
The rest of the team had fun presenting with puppets, and from memory, we also did a skit (ok, maybe some people didn’t enjoy performing, but I did 😄 )
I distinctly remember us singing Amazing Grace acapella (without any music). Unfortunately, the person starting us off accidentally chose the wrong key, so by the time we got to the chorus, it was so high for most of us that it was nearly unsingable! Internally, I was cringing as we all screeched to the high notes, but the show needed to go on.
The villagers didn’t seem to mind, and if they did, nothing was mentioned. On the contrary, they were very welcoming and hospitable, and I have fond memories of my time on this little island.
Walking to church was a little bit of an adventure. Including the massive hill we had to walk down (and later up again), there were also a couple of river crossings. Although my 17-inch high boots (organisation required) were somewhat waterproof, they always ended up at least a little damp. Something that later down the line would prove to be an issue.
The church was a small concrete building with wooden pews. You had to be careful to balance them so that if you suddenly stood up, the other person didn’t accidentally topple off. There were these louvered windows that were always open, and on most Sundays, people would stand outside looking in because there was no more room in the building.
At the end of the three weeks, we returned to Australia, and thankfully the return trip to the airport was able to be made solely by road.
By the end of the summer, I had come back from an epic adventure, likely learning more from it than actually helping the community. Nevertheless, it was a life-changing experience that shaped how I see the world.
The organisation I went with had a policy: we always had to have shoes on, even in the shower (water shoes). Unfortunately, my feet never dried, and I developed severe dermatitis and tinea. It got to the point where I could hardly walk normally due to the pins and needles and pain.
Being able to air my feet once back in Australia during a week of debriefing helped. Still, it wasn’t until I got home and bathed them in salty water (worst pain of my life!) along with potassium permanganate (which was bright purple and turned everything brown) that my feet finally began to improve.
I don’t think I have ever worn those boots because of the memories and being so sick of having to wear them!
Vanuatu is a beautiful place that, if you are in the southern hemisphere, you should come and visit.
I need to go looking into my archives of photos to try and find some from this trip. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to find them with all of my others.
Stay tuned for part 2, featuring coconuts, machetes and getting back through Australian customs!
Melissa is passionate about building authentic and supportive communities to empower people to live physically, mentally, and emotionally healthy lives.
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