Sometimes, change comes on an 8" x 11" piece of paper. This particular change even came in the mail. I sat on the edge of my bed and opened up the little white envelope with the University of New Hampshire logo on the left-hand corner. As I scanned the letter, I eventually got to the part with the congratulations on it. I had been accepted to the New Hampshire Upward Bound program.

That was how my change started. I went away that summer one way and came back very different. At Upward Bound, I learned to respect people and their opinions no matter how I felt about them, to make friendships that would last far beyond what I had anticipated, to adjust to entirely new living conditions, and to deal with a whole lot of diversity. I learned adaptation. Probably the most influential and perspective-changing incident of my summer was our group Discovery Trip. Fourteen people, two tents, three coolers, and a dozen sleeping bags all shoved into a fifteen-passenger van for four hours. You learn a lot.

Discovery Trips are all part of U.B. Each group gets approximately $250, a van, and equipment. It's the group's job to plan an overnight trip that incorporates a college tour, a cultural experience, and an entertaining activity, all while staying under their budget and time restrictions. Sounds fairly east right? This is where the adaptation starts to come into play. Since there are fourteen people and everyone has a different opinion, the group must come to a consensus on all decisions. To say the least, I have found this process to be painstaking long, tedious, and just plain old ugly. Compromising and flexibility are the keys here, but since the whole point of Discovery is to learn these skills, they rarely come easily at the start.

After much deliberation, our group decided to tour the University of Vermont. A mere 198 miles from our Durham, NH campus or so we thought. For overnight arrangements, we were going to stay at a state park campground not too far from the college. We decided to leave at 9am, arrive for a 2:00 tour, set up camp, and then go to the Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream Factory as our special activity. We would then get up and head back the next morning so we could arrive by 1pm.

Now, the whole concept of being squished into a big van with some good friends and some new acquaintances sounds exciting and adventurous. At first, it was just that. We all bopped around to the music and sang and had a good time. When we were bored with that, almost all of us fell asleep. That was good too. However, when you wake up nice and refreshed from an hour long nap, can't stretch out, and then learn that you still have another two hours to go, all of that sweet excitement starts to turn a bit sour. People start to complain about the music, the air conditioner, the wind from the window messing up their hair, the person sitting next to them invading their space, the funny smell coming from outside, the funny smell coming from the cooler -basically anything they can find to vocalize their suddenly strong opinions about.

Needless to say, when we arrived at UVM for our tour, we were deliriously happy to be rid of the van and walk around. It was your basic tour. We got to see the gym, the dorms, some classrooms, and by request we were allowed to poke around in the theater. After a good long walk around the main campus, we headed back to the visitors' center, grabbed some water and brochures, and grudgingly headed back to the good old van. At this point, we had decided against the Ben & Jerry's trip and figured we'd just go to the camp and find somewhere to swim. So we pulled out the map and started driving.

Maps are interesting things. Places always look much closer than they actually are, and just to make things a bit more challenging, our map was apparently outdated. A supposed forty-minute drive took us a very long hour and a half. Once we found the general area we were looking for, we got hit with another surprise. Our campsite was completely in the middle of nowhere, halfway up a mountain. We were all relieved just to be there at that point, though, so it really didn't matter where we were staying.

For the remainder of the evening, we set up the tents and cooked dinner. The gas stove we had borrowed decided that is didn't want to light, until after twenty minutes of our failed attempts, when the whole thing ignited and incinerated the hair on the boy in my groups arm. After we had all had our spaghetti, we built a campfire and had a great time swapping stories and learning about each other. We were all exhausted, so we headed into our tents around one in the morning and drifted off to sleep.

Thud! Thud! Thud! As my tired, blurry eyes opened I tried to comprehend what on earth could be tapping my tent so early in the morning. Then the sound of scratchy music started to accompany the pounding. My TCs, Jared and Jamie, had decided to wake us up at 6am by throwing pebbles at our tents and serenading us with a harmonica. Clever, I'll admit. However, this was definitely not a welcomed wake up call at the time. It worked, though, and we were all up and ready by eight. The ride home wasn't nearly as painful. We arrived early and had plenty of time to clean up and return our equipment. There was even enough money left over for lunch at the local pizza shop. We were then required to fill out a group evaluation, which helped us all to recap and realize how much we had grown from the experience and just how many important life skills we had pulled out of it.

Now, chances are I'll never have an experience quite like that ever again. I'll never spend ten hours in a sardine can on wheels with thirteen strangers, I'll never bring excess camping gear if I do. I'll never wittingly camp halfway up a mountain in an unfamiliar place, or wake up at six in the morning to the sounds of an improvised melody and rocks whooshing past my head. However, I'm sure I will have many new challenges and crazy adventures to embark on, and I feel confident that with the patience, tolerance, and adaptability I learned as a result of that trip, I will meet them head on and ready.