Although the world around me made little sense, I began to ponder my own life. Knowing that I must sound like a self-obsessed pretentious narcissist, I find myself incapable of writing about anything but my internal reflections. If they aren’t what you came for then I suggest you move your mouse to the top right and click to your hearts content.

Having looked back at the last few years of my life, I was able to put myself in my former mindset. At every stage of my life in the last few years, I have thought that I know the world.  Before travelling in my gap year, I was certain that I knew what to expect. Then during my travels I realised that my former existence was nothing compared to the man I was at that time. Upon returning to the UK and readying myself for university, I felt a man of the world; more aware and ready than my peers to take on the challenges of university. A year on, just one week away from starting my second year, I look back at that child I was just a year ago, intoxicated with a fever that only freshers can catch. Just the thought that I was one of them not more than twelve months ago makes me cringe inside. A pungent air of enthusiasm and giddiness surrounds all of them, which frankly sickens me.

However much I have thought in the past that my life experiences have aptly prepared me for what is to come, like a blind-man in a new neighbourhood, I find myself discovering things I never thought possible. Once acquiring more knowledge of the world, arrogantly (as is my innate nature) I think I am a complete man.

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I have spent the past month in North Africa and Arabia, where the predominant language is Arabic, and in one of the countries; French and Arabic. My first stumbling block was the language barrier; my inability to speak either of the languages with ease meant I was vulnerable and victim to being ‘ripped off’/charged extortionate prices on everything.

From the buzzing streets of Marrakech to the historic bends of Alexandria, if you’re recognised as anything but local, you get ripped off. The trend I noticed over the weeks, especially in the ancient taxis of North Africa, was that your initial agreed price was subject to change by the end of the journey, merely because you have no option but to pay, once you’re tied into it. If anything, I was amused by this trend. By the end of the first week, part of me would enjoy the haggling, and making sure I was firm with them.

After being driven around by supposed Hollywood actors’ publicists, I learned one key lesson. Know who to trust, and when to trust them. In a land foreign to your own, you’ve got to be extra vigilant, to ensure you’re not being taken for a ride. Although it’s hard to gauge how genuine someone is, it’s an important skill to work on when you’re away from home.

The creativity of the Berber’s (Native Moroccan’s) have imprinted itself within me, as something extraordinary. To see something of value made from waste materials, in order for trade to take place, requires determination and confidence. For instance, they would make sculptures of people using bicycle chains and other pieces of scrap metal. Some live a life of struggle, yet their determination enables continuity and subsistence. I was struck by contentment. As we travelled past the Berber’s town, we approached the sensational sight; the Atlas Mountains. There was more to it than just a mountain; our destination was a waterfall, at the mountain peak. With a midway break for the best orange juice I’ve ever had, we approached the waterfall and sat beside it in contemplation, only to realise it’s magnanimity.

Over the few weeks, this sight was second to one of the greatest, the greatest mosque in the world. On entrance, I was struck by awe at the Ka’aba (the cube) in the centre of this great Mosque, in the midst of Saudi Arabia, where millions of pilgrims would circumambulate every year. There was an energy which pulled me towards it. It was surreal. I felt magnetized, as though I had lost control of my bodily limbs, and as though my circumambulation was an effortless task, moving amidst the crowd, with the crowd. In unison. Around this closed circuit, where my act of circumambulation would represent my being with respect to the universe.

My identity had been negated. I was dressed in white, amongst thousands dressed in exactly the same. People cried and wailed in different languages, in different tones, expressing themselves fully. I wasn’t anyone. I was just my innate being, in my initial form. Nobody, yet somebody.

Over my few weeks, I started off with the rich culture in Marrakech, and even more so in Casablanca, before I travelled to Cairo, where the culture had similarities to Morocco, yet presented itself as something entirely different. I then moved onto Saudi Arabia, particularly Makkah, where I lost my identity and culture, and became one with everyone. My roots meant nothing. My degree, my efforts, my activities meant nothing. I had negated what I commonly refer to as ‘me’, and became the actual ‘me’. I then travelled away from Makkah, to Madinah, another holy city, where the religion of Islam first originated. I was walking on the lands of previous leaders, who were some of the greatest of people, and felt blessed.

I then travelled back to Egypt, Alexandria to be precise, where I was struck once again by culture. I regained my own culture, and found that culture meant something completely new now. Everything became more noticeable, more distinct. Finally, before making my way to the final destination of my summer,  Tanzania, I spent another few days in Cairo, where I visited the great pyramids and local papyrus factories.

When you’re away from your comfort zone, you live a life where basic needs are met first. For instance, my first night in Alexandria was slightly different; I hadn’t booked my hotel prior to arrival, so instead, had to quickly search for a decent hotel with decent standards. I imagined it to be a simple task, but turned out to be the most difficult, especially considering the time of night. If there’s anything I learned from that, it’d be, never go to an unfamiliar town without booking a hotel.

From the places I visited, to the cultures I witnessed, each and every instance has been an additional highlight to my time away.

I await each day, anxiously, as the summer continues to unfold.

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Very rarely am I able in London to sit around for hours on end reading a book or just lying in bed staring at the fan above me spinning, praying with every of its revolutions that it won’t fall, leading to my definite demise, but thankfully I survived, as my current scribing would indicate. My accommodation had no Internet, and most of the time spent in my bedroom was filled with futile efforts at killing the mosquitoes that would most definitely pounce once I have drifted into the land of dreams.

The serenity of the sea juxtaposed with the hustle and bustle of those scraping to make a living in the inner city. It was a balance that brought a sense awe and tranquillity inside me that I knew was simply not attainable back home. What I have found on my travels is that whichever country I find myself in, despite how much I might look like the locals, despite the fact that I haven’t yet opened my mouth, and despite my best efforts to dress like them, alarm bells start to ring in their heads, and even the people just selling illegal DVDs feel their sixth senses elbowing them in the ribs. They adjust their posture and make their opening statement in their best English accent: “Where are you from? You want DVD? I give good price.”

As a child coming here, I used to hate the afternoon naps that everyone seemed to take. I appeared to myself to be the only sane person in the house who came on holiday and wanted to actually utilise the sunlight hours. I would pace up and down the corridors whilst even the cockroaches took a break from their infesting, waiting for my parents to stir so they could give me the attention I so dearly craved. Youth is a marvellous thing; supplies of energy appear to be never ending and sleep is nothing but a nemesis. Just a few years later, it comes to the afternoon naps and whilst my family are still eating their lunch I excuse myself early so I can maximise my napping time. Not only am I the first one to sleep, but also I am the last one to rise. Like an unexpected twist in a comic book, my arch nemesis has suddenly become my greatest ally. I have enjoyed sleep’s company on the floor of a coach in Iraq, on the floor waiting for an underground train at Westminster station, on the floor at several airports even on the floor outdoors in central London for one insanely cold night. I find myself in my dear friend’s company increasingly as I age, and although as I child I feared for such a day; I find nowadays that I enjoy nothing more than sitting around all day reading books, thinking about life and sleeping. Activities, which as a child I considered ‘boring.’

Never do I find sleep so appealing, nor have I slept so light yet dreamed so vividly than when I find myself in Mombasa…

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I can say without a moment’s hesitation, that the last year of my life has been, by far, the best. On my profile I responded to the question ‘Who are you?’ by saying that ‘I am the summation of all the events in my life’. I can honestly say that although this may seem rather general and broad, the last 12 or so months have defined me as a person and have changed who I am…

During my final year of college, I was approached by my teacher about a scheme called the Prime Minister’s Global Fellowship. It appeared to be a pretty cool program which sent 100 6th Form leavers to either Brazil, China or India, to spend 6 weeks in one of these rapidly developing economies. It was a free trip and despite what seemed on paper like a fantastic opportunity; which would see me spent 2 weeks learning the native language and getting a cultural experience, 2 weeks staying with a family and teaching English, and the final 2 weeks as the host of a global company, my demeanour was lethargic and such opportunities did not ignite the same spark that they do now one year later.

I reluctantly filled out an application form and got through to the interview stages. From there I was somehow successful in making it onto the scheme and not a day goes by that I don’t thank God that I did. It was a life changing experience, and one thing I can distinctly remember from the trip is the day in Sao Paulo that were given the chance to hear 5 youths talk about their lives. They were all of similar age to us, yet instead of simply being at university, they all used to work in the daytime to support their families and attended university at night. The sad reality is that despite working 10 times harder than we do, they will spend their lives struggling to escape poverty. At that point, I realised how blessed we are in the UK. We are presented with an abundance of opportunities, yet we so readily pass them up. From that day, I made a promise to myself to never again pass up an opportunity and to make the most of my time….

Now, looking back on the promise I made to myself, I can honestly say that I am nowhere near as productive as I should be; but this gap year has been a chance for me to chase my dreams. I am in a position where anything I want is achievable, if I put in the effort.

If you had told me 12 months ago that in one short year I would attend a spiritual retreat in Morocco, where the tea I must say was the best I have ever had, go to the cultural vacuum of the world that you may know as Dubai, attempt to enter Gaza with an aid convoy via Egypt, swim with dolphins in Zanzibar (a must for all of you!), go to the shrine of Imam Hussein at the same time as 13 million other pilgrims, have my dignity handed to me on a plate by a 6ft 2inch Chinese kick-boxer, see the Pyramids of Giza by camel-back, play football in a favela in Rio di Janeiro, meet Ayatollah Sistani in Najaf, see the sun rise from the top of a mountain 2000m above sea level in Switzerland, witness the pre-Iranian election hype first hand, climb the Great Wall of China, try deep-sea fishing for the first time, watch Slumdog Millionaire in a private press screening 2 months before the official release, and meet the Prime Minister…twice, I would have laughed in your face.

In fact I would have laughed every time I talked to you. No, I would have laughed even just thinking about you, but the reality is that somehow I managed to do all of those things. Those of you that know me will know that frankly, I am a bit of a bum, and yet I managed to achieve so much in just one year, in just twelve short months. My gap year has proved to me, as I hope it will for others, that with the right motivation, there is no limit to what you can do, how far you can go and who you can become.

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Having spent the last two weeks in Caux, a little town in the mountains of Switzerland (with a view of Lake Geneva to die for!), at a conference entitled ‘How to Become a Peacemaker’ I feel that I’ve taken on that rather hippy attitude of love and peace for all mankind. Now I can’t promise this mindset will remain but I promise you if you experience it even for a day in your life you will see what a liberating feeling it is! I no longer harbour hatred for anyone or anything and frankly I never want to again. My anger is often short lived after drawing to the conclusion that the negative impact of my rage is mostly felt by myself. Of course I disagree with things people around me and also on the news do, but responding to it with anger and frustration does not resolve anything.

Our conference was about becoming a peacemaker, about making peace in the world around us, about dealing with racism, xenophobia, islamophobia and all the other problems we face in our lives, yet I learnt that if I want to start repairing society’s wrongs, I must first begin by looking at myself. Questions such as: How do I react when confronted with such hatred? Do I return it with hatred of my own? Is my response more dignified than the aggressors? And so on…

With the stunning view of the lake and the serene surroundings away from some of the usual distractions like the television, I found myself with more time to reflect and it helped me think about things that I never took the time out to ponder, and it led to an inner peace that I never knew was possible. It goes without saying that I want to see peace in Somalia, Palestine, Afghanistan (and the list could go on) but how can I fight for their peace when I myself am not at peace?

I would like to share with you one quick story which may help solidify some of the things I have learnt in Caux… On the day of my arrival, it was late at night and I was extremely exhausted. Whilst walking in the corridor leading to my room, a stranger walked past me, smiled and said ‘hello’. Now maybe some of you are used to this hospitality, but sadly I am from London. Let me tell you the unofficial rules of the London Underground.

1. You MUST NOT under any circumstances make eye-contact with anyone you don’t know.

2. You MUST NOT under any circumstances talk to anyone you don’t know

3. You MUST NOT make any noise whatsoever on London public transport, unless you are on the phone, in which case you must talk as loud as you can so that everyone can hear what you are saying.

I was taken aback by the stranger’s hospitality, yet 2 days later I found myself in the very same corridor, walking past another complete stranger, and almost instinctively I smiled and said ‘hi’. This time I was the one greeting the stranger and I then found myself greeting everyone there. I felt that despite the fact that I didn’t know them, we have something deeper, a bond that has been created by what people there like to call ‘the Spirit of Caux’. This is not something you can explain, but I know you can definitely experience it. I don’t know whether it was the beauty of my surroundings, the people I had met or the experiences I had, but in just a matter of days something had changed inside me.

I must admit though it was easy to have inner peace there, and have that feeling that you are ready to tackle the world’s problems, but the real test truly begins when we are greeted with racism, xenophobia and islamophobia back home. Will I still hold on to that inner peace that I felt? That is the real question….

I would like to conclude with 2 words taught to us by the The Holy Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), he said ‘Oofshoos Salaam’ which means ‘Spread Peace’.

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Being a keen sportsman and a qualified coach, I have always been fascinated by the Brazilians ability in the field of sports. Not only are they the five times world champions in football, but they have just about managed to win every medal at the Olympics, specializing in volleyball as well.

With all this in mind I departed from Heathrow airport almost expecting to see a football or a volleyball in the hands of every pedestrian. Upon my arrival in Rio my expectations were close to being met…

As we boarded our coach at 8 am on a sunny Saturday, it was outstanding to see fenced up football pitches every few hundred metres full of youths playing football. The scene was much the same on the beaches of Niterói where our hotel was located. The beach was littered with games of football, with people of all ages joining in.

After dropping our baggage off at our hotel we attended a reception at the British Council office in Rio. During our briefing of our trip and a warm welcome by Graeme Hodgson of the British Council, my mind was elsewhere. I was itching to play ´the beautiful game´ in the country that may not have created football but managed to almost perfect it. Following on from this reception we had lunch and still I was made to wait before I could fulfill my dream of scoring a goal on a beach in Rio.

Finally night came and we were given time to relax at our hotel and catch up on some much needed sleep. I figured that I would play football on my second day as I was still very jetlagged. So I lay on my bed and shut my eyes. Twenty minutes must have past and I was still not asleep. Something was bugging me. I got up and took a few of the other global fellows with me to the beach. With my Lonely Planet Portuguese book in hand we approached some Brazilian kids, half expecting to be turned away, and asked, ´Posso entrar (can I join in?)´. Much to my surprise they did not only let us play but were very welcoming. Despite the very apparent language barrier, we managed to converse and build up respect for one another on the pitch.

I feel at this point I should throw in that I did manage to fulfill my dream and scored a goal that made the score 1-1 in our very first match against Brazilians.

After the game was over we experienced more of the Brazilian culture and instead of the traditional English handshake following a football game, we all embraced. Although the game was a draw, the winner was determined by a round of ´Rock, paper scissors´, which clearly, like football, knows no language barriers. Although they lost, only showing a rock to our superior paper, the Brazilians were not bitter. They even invited us to have a drink with them. By this time we were already drunk off the euphoria of the victory so we politely turned down the offer and returned to our hotel where sleep swiftly befell us all.

A couple of days later whilst walking to Cultura Inglesa, our Portuguese language school, I saw one of the Brazilian boys we had played with across the road. As soon as he saw us, he left his friends and ran across the road to greet us. He hugged us all and asked if we wanted to play with him and his friends again that evening. Unfortunately we had other commitments that evening, but the hospitality which we were received with was outstanding, and this experience is one that will remain with me for as long as I live.

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