BLUEFIELD — Hello. My name is Jamie. I have never traveled out of the country. My feet haven’t left the ground. But in two months, everything will change. It will be a summer of firsts. My first time on a plane. The first trip outside of the 50 red, white and blue states. More importantly, my first mission trip to the island of Jamaica. For some, Jamaica sounds like a vacation — a getaway in the Caribbean. True. The island boasts of tropical weather, blue skies and clear water. But wait, my trip will include a week worth of construction work, church services and children’s activities. I couldn’t be happier with my vacation destination.

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 Am I nervous about the plane trip? No. Worried about the culture and food differences? Not at all. Scared to leave the country? Nope. I have waited for an opportunity like this for years. It is a trip of a lifetime. Growing up in a small church with an equally small youth group, I never experienced mission work. I was involved in plenty of activities — amusement park trips, hayrides, ice cream socials and more — during my teenage years. But I couldn’t help but feel jealous watching my high school friends from other churches board planes and buses for mission trips. Fast forward, past the college years, into the workforce, where vacations are deemed by hours, not months. The chance for a mission trip seemed out of reach, until now. A chance e-mail and one meeting later, I became a member of a mission trip to a Jamaican deaf village in Manchester, an outreach of the Caribbean Christian Center for the Deaf, with offices in Lewisburg.

 Of course, it is going to be fun, exciting and an adventure. But wait. I am not a teenager anymore; I am an adult. I have responsibilities on this trip, both physically and spiritually. Not only will I serve the people of the deaf village by working in construction and planning activities with children, but I will give a testimony of faith. A second responsibility is being a role model to local teenagers and more importantly, making sure they don’t get lost in the airport. I bet parents are more concerned with the latter. I don’t blame them. And then —as if the construction work wasn’t enough — there is one more responsibility on the trip. It is an issue of communication.

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My name is Jamie. The introduction is simple to type; it is a sentence I have been repeating since I learned the English language. But in Jamaica, I won’t be able to rely on my voice. I must use hands to express my thoughts, needs, desires and even my name. On Sunday night, as I sat on the youth group couch at Johnston Chapel Baptist Church, I felt the weight of those hands. In less than two months, American Sign Language would be my primary form of communication. Watching teenagers sign to each other, I realized I have a lot of work before boarding the plane in July. These teenagers, also willing to give up a week of summer vacation, have the advantage over this journalist; they already know how to sign the word for bathroom.

I was told by one of the youth pastors that the people of the Jamaican deaf village like to know one’s profession or occupation. I made sure to learn the sign for journalist or writer. I am a communicator because of my job at the newspaper. I use adjectives, adverbs, nouns, verbs and more to express my opinions and ideas to thousands of readers. On this mission trip, I won’t be able to pack up the laptop and use my profession as a way to communicate to others. But I can use American Sign Language to build my skills as a lover of words, whether they be written, spoken or signed with hands.

Construction work. Bugs. Dirt. Sunburn. Faith. It sounds like a world class vacation — one that will benefit an entire village, a group of teenagers, chaperones and one journalist, who can’t wait to write about the experiences, mishaps and adventures.

Jamie Parsell is Lifestyles editor of the Daily Telegraph. Contact her at jparsell@bdtonline.com.