_{Conducting research abroad is always an adventure, but for Vasco, PhD researcher at Campus Fryslân, his time in Benin became much more than a data collection trip. As he worked on developing a digital tool to detect neurological disorders, he found himself navigating not just scientific challenges but also cultural and linguistic barriers. What he discovered, however, was the extraordinary kindness, resilience, and generosity of the Beninese people—an experience that offered new insights into both his research and the power of human connection.}

There is something undeniably exhilarating about the opportunity to conduct research abroad, even more so when it means stepping into an entirely different world and embracing new cultures, climates, foods, and ways of life. Yet, nothing could have prepared me for just how unique my experience in Benin would be.

To provide some context, I am in the final year of my PhD at Campus Fryslân, working on a digital tool to detect signs and symptoms of neurological disorders. This tool is not meant to diagnose but rather to facilitate data collection in population-based studies, especially in areas with limited access to resources and neurologists. As I approached the final stretch of my PhD, I encountered increasing challenges in performing the data collection phase. Then, unexpectedly, an opportunity arose: through the recommendation of project collaborators, I was given the chance to collect data in Benin. It was an opportunity I could not turn down.

Preparing for this journey was no small feat. From securing ethical approval and ensuring the tool was functional to handling last-minute travel logistics—passports, vaccinations, visas—it felt like a race against time. Yet, within a month, I was on a plane, ready to embark on an adventure that would transform my research and perspective on life.

From the moment one lands in Benin, they are embraced with warmth (and not just literally, because of the heat!). The hospitality is palpable: both the locals and my colleagues in the country were incredibly welcoming. The people of Benin radiate kindness, always eager to help in any way possible. As I began my work—consulting with patients with neurological conditions—I was struck by their patience, empathy, and gratitude. Despite the language barrier (the official language is French, and I am not a French speaker), the participants understood the purpose of my research and willingly participated, often expressing their appreciation for the opportunity, something I had not expected.

But how do you navigate a country where you don’t speak the language and access to information—like translation tools—is limited due to often having no internet connection? You do what humans have done for centuries: you adapt. Through gestures, sounds, and a handful of memorised sentences, I found a way to communicate. By my third day, I could understand basic sentences about patients’ health, but what really made all the difference was the support of the local community. Hospital colleagues and even strangers went out of their way to facilitate interactions, even when they spoke little English. Their generosity and patience turned what could have been an overwhelming challenge into a beautiful testament to human connection.

Yet, it wasn’t always easy. There were unexpected challenges—frequent electricity and water shortages, the emotional weight of working with patients with severe neurological conditions, and the stark realities of adapting to a setting where infrastructure, healthcare systems, and daily conveniences operate differently from what some of us have grown accustomed to. But through it all, the Beninese people remained resilient, grateful, and joyful. Their sense of community was unshakable, their willingness to support one another unwavering.

This experience was a reminder of how valuable strong community bonds are, which can sometimes be overlooked in more individualistic cultures. We often hesitate to engage with others outside our immediate circles in Europe. Whether out of caution, distraction, or an ingrained habit of minding our own business, we sometimes forget how much a simple act of kindness can mean. Checking in on others and showing that we care, these small gestures can strengthen our bonds and create a more cohesive, compassionate society.

If there is one thing Benin has taught me, it is that kindness, given freely and without expectation, has the power to transform lives. And often, we receive more than we could have ever imagined in giving. I am deeply grateful for this journey, the extraordinary people I met, and the lessons I will carry with me for the rest of my life. To my colleagues at the hospital and to every person who made my experience unforgettable—thank you. You have left an indelible mark on my heart.