Hello everyone, I’m Şeyma.
In this article, I don’t just want to take you to Poland—I also want to take you along the path that grew out of the uncertainties, struggles, and questions of my youth. Because sometimes, what defines our story is not where we go, but why we decide to leave in the first place.
Throughout university, volunteering was at the center of my life. While studying Psychology, I wasn’t only focused on my classes; I was driven by the desire to be in the field, connect with people, and be part of something meaningful. After graduating, a very familiar path lay ahead of me: finding a job, building a routine, and getting caught up in the fast pace of adult life.
But deep down, I felt that path wasn’t meant for me. I was only 22 years old, and I knew that my spirit would never again be this fearless, this energetic, this bold, or this eager to embrace the unknown. I wanted to make the most of that freedom while I still could.
So, I listened to that inner voice.
I told myself, “I’ll do a little more volunteering.”
That “little” eventually brought me all the way to Poland.
The thought I carried with me when I set off—and the one I realized again at the end of the journey—was remarkably simple: life is not just about a good salary, a stable job, nice clothes, or the picture-perfect moments we see on social media. There is another side to life—one that is calmer, more extraordinary, and far more worth living. For the first time, I truly became part of that world. I breathed those moments in deeply. And if anything was going to change who I am, I wanted it to be the air I breathed and the people I met along the way.
And so, I found myself in Leszno, a small town in Poland.
The first few weeks were not easy. To be honest, there were moments when I questioned why I had come at all. At first, the activities we were doing didn’t seem particularly meaningful to me. But with time, everything slowly fell into place. My days became fuller, our schedule grew busier, and before I even realized it, I had become part of the rhythm of this new life.
We visited schools and met children from different backgrounds. During the winter camp, we traveled to rural areas and visited several schools. For two weeks, we spent time with hundreds of children, introducing them to Türkiye through games, traditional dances like halay, and, of course, our food and desserts.
Those moments taught me that language is not always the most important form of communication. Sometimes a smile, a shared laugh, or a simple glance is enough to say everything.
As time passed, I wasn’t just getting to know the children—I was also getting to know myself.
Weekends became a completely different kind of adventure. Whenever I found an affordable ticket, I would suddenly find myself in another country. Sometimes I was cycling along the banks of a river, sometimes wandering through unfamiliar streets while trying a local dessert for the first time. Everywhere I went, I met new people. And perhaps what I loved most was how naturally I found myself greeting everyone with a genuine smile.
My teammates were undoubtedly one of the best parts of this journey. They came from different countries, each carrying their own unique stories. Although we had all grown up in different corners of the world, we somehow found common ground. Some of us were more creative, others were full of energy, while some brought a calm and thoughtful presence. Yet every single person contributed something meaningful to our shared experience. And when all those differences came together, they created something truly special.
Of course, there were difficult moments too. Times when I felt lonely or misunderstood. One of the hardest experiences was having my camera stolen during one of my trips. It left me feeling vulnerable and shaken. But like everything else in life, those moments eventually passed.
One of the most tangible things this journey gave me was confidence in speaking English. At the beginning, communicating in English felt like a major obstacle. But conversation after conversation, mistake after mistake, I gradually reached a point where I could express myself with confidence. Experiencing that transformation firsthand became one of the most rewarding parts of this adventure.
Behind all of this was the support that encouraged me to take this journey in the first place: Pi Youth Association (PIYA). From the very beginning of the application process, they gave me a sense of trust and showed me that it's okay not to know everything—you can always learn. That mindset gave me the confidence to take this step, and for that reason, they hold a very special place in my story.
Looking back now, I can say one thing with complete certainty: this was never just a volunteering project. It was a journey that made me question the direction of my own life and showed me that another path was truly possible.
Maybe I didn't choose the conventional road right away.
But I chose a path that felt closer to who I really am.
So, here's a little piece of my journey—filled with curiosity, courage, and the experience of getting to know myself a little better.
With love and warm wishes,
Şeyma Akkuş
