Last semester, I participated the Oregon Extension program.

We arrived at our first campsite in the middle of Trinity Alps Mountains — settled next to the small lake called Little Bear. We hiked for about eight hours. We were all exhausted. Some of us were leading the group; we called ourselves Alpha Tea —four of us walking back to back. There were some of us who were called Beta Team that walked a little slower. Every hour or so we rested and waited on each other while eating our packed lunches and snacks.

At our first campsite, it got so dark and cold. Some of us built a campfire. Everyone else built their tents. Some of us, who were in charge of making dinner, started to boil water. We were all hungry.

Sitting there waiting for dinner, I became lost in my thoughts. I felt my presence. I looked around. I was out in the middle of nowhere with no sign of familiarity. I looked around. I was surrounded not only by new faces but also new people who I had never been around for the last 17 years of my life.

I did not know the place; I did not know the people. I did not know anything.

So what else was there for me to know? I found my existence in the midst of new people. I was there with my presence alone. I felt my presence separated from me. But I had to form unity.

Coming to Oregon Extension, my expectations were that only books could change me, but it did not happen that way. Ideas alone could not change my heart, but they could change my mind. So by sharing those ideas with students and talking about them, I sensed the transformation of pure ideas to living phenomena. Love was one of the biggest ideas that impacted my thinking throughout the semester. Before Oregon Extension, I read about love; I heard about it in songs and movies, millions of times. I have also “experienced” it. I knew what it is like to love or to be loved, but experience alone was not adequate.

Living with white people was quite different and strange for an African man like me. Sharing a cabin with them, sharing a meal, a couch, and dishes was all new. The first month was very challenging and uncomfortable, but I managed to pass through this uncomfortability by my conviction that I was there for a reason, a purpose.

I didn’t care about my social life. I come from a tradition where being sociable is not a “requirement.” I could be a monk who lives in a monastery. With this in mind, I kept my distance. I enjoyed my solitary time, books, and doing my own things. I became a voluntarily introvert in an extrovert’s body.

In each month, we had to read some hard, dense, and enlightening books. We had a discussion on every book we read. The difference between reading books alone and reading books with people came to my understanding from this experience. The book discussions opened up the door for me to talk to people openly and honestly. It helped me come close to some people. The more I openly and honestly talked about my beliefs, values, and feelings, the more my heart started to open up, the more my spirit found its way to my heart. This was a lesson for me about the value of a community.

In the last segment of the semester, we read “The Brothers Karamazov” by Dostoyevsky. Reading this book, and hearing lectures about it was so fascinating. I was spiritually moved.

My encounter with the idea of love in this book took a different form. The story in the book was about a protagonist named Alyosha having an epiphanic moment when it was revealed to him that his beloved spiritual father Zosima, who had just died, was in heaven.

As I reread it, I thought that it was my own life. I did not know what to do about it. I felt my heart jumping in joy and laughter. What happened? I don’t know. I asked my friend, “hug me, please.” He understood; he hugged me.

He said “I feel love moving in your body, mojo.” That night, I dreamt about the world in a way I have never dreamt before—the world of beauty, the world of heaven.

The next few days were for us to prepare for departure day. The time had arrived to say goodbye to each other. We all felt so down. We started hugging and crying. One of the students ran towards me and fell onto my chest with a big hug. My heart just melted. My senses ceased their functions for a brief moment. All that I felt was the warmness of her chest.

I call it warmness, because I don’t have any other words. The warmness took me 15 years back to my childhood in my mother’s arms. The warmness of her body warms my spirit.

A sudden realization came to me. Yes, this is love. That love that ceased the function of my senses and warmed my spirit.

I shouted in my mind, “Love is not an idea; love is not only action; love is a spiritual entity that takes forms and space in the heart. Love has nothing to do with the senses, but with the unconquered spirit of humans. Love unites. Love touches humanness. Love hugs. Love is unselfish, beyond skin, body, and physicality.”

So for me, the one hug that changed my life was at Oregon Extension.

I learned to live for a hug and not to take it for granted.