Lesson from Kenya: A smile's still worth $1 million

Melissa Bachler, a teacher at Crone Middle School in Naperville, is spending a month on a volunteer trip in Kenya, where she is teaching math and reading at a school for girls and bunking in a mud hut with three other volunteers. When she is able to get to town and find an Internet connection, she is sending us entries from her journal. This is her fourth dispatch from Kabula, Kenya.

I've been warned to be careful while (or, as I've learned from my new British friends, whilst) in Africa.

I've been warned to watch for pickpockets, to watch for people trying to charge me more than necessary, to keep my passport safe, to not wear expensive jewelry, to not travel alone or at night. I've pretty much been cautioned, in a thousand different ways with a thousand different words, that the only safe place is my hut, with the door locked, under my mosquito net, with loads of DEET covering any exposed skin.

The thousand words of warning have stuck with me, but what has struck me more has been the universal language that exists everywhere in the world - the universal language of a smile and a wave.

After nearly every corner I turn here in Kenya, there has been a smiling face with a waving hand not too far off. When a bit of homesickness finds its way into my daily routine, and my heart seems fragile, there is such comfort in knowing that we all share the ability to connect and welcome someone who is completely different from us.

While I have yet to get pick-pocketed or have any jewelry stolen from me, I have spoken to many people without using any words and have felt a little piece of home thousands of words and miles away.

It's hard not to imitate the child whose eyes grow larger when they see me and a slow smile spreads across his face while a hand pops up to accompany the smile. I can't help but be the mirror image - that's the power of language.

It's hard not to feel safer when someone I don't know smiles, waves, and lets me know that I'm OK here and I'm welcome here - despite the fact it's not my home. I can't help but feel comforted - again, that's the power of language.

So, as I leave Kenya, I know I will always carry these things in my wallet, even if they are the only items in there. A smile makes you look like a million bucks anyway.