By Giulia Porcu
“You develop a kind of sensitivity, almost like an extra sense, that allows you to connect with people even without sharing the same language,” said Isabelle Letelie when asked to describe the challenge, and enrichment, her volunteering missions around the world have posed.
Vibrant, curious and radiant, she left an indelible mark on the beginning of my university experience: her desire to travel, her curiosity about other cultures and her commitment to volunteering are the perfect ingredients for an interview–one I hope will render justice to the unique persona she is.
With a steaming coffee in front of us and the sun still down, she opened up about her latest missions and motives behind them.
“I find it very enriching to do things that are not paid, to give your time freely, and to work with people you would probably never meet otherwise. Last year, I went to India with an organization, then to Cambodia, and also to Morocco during the summer, with the same French organization that organizes medical missions. Then in October, I went back to Morocco independently to join people I had met earlier—especially a woman who organizes an artistic and humanitarian caravan in villages in the High Atlas, near Ouarzazate. I really fell in love with the country, Amazing culture, and the people I met there, which is why I wanted to return and be part of that project”
Did you notice cultural differences being an obstacle to establishing relationships with locals?
I think that from the moment you choose to go on this kind of mission, you have to accept that it will be destabilizing—and that’s actually the point. You need to be curious and open to stepping outside your comfort zone. Of course, it’s not always easy, but that’s exactly why it’s so valuable. It pushes you to question your habits, your way of thinking, and your way of living. Once you let go and accept that you won’t always understand everything, it becomes incredibly enriching. So yes, it’s difficult, but that’s also what makes it so great.
When you say “accepting that you won’t always understand anything” do you also refer to the preponderant language barrier?
The language barrier can be difficult to overcome, however when I went to India and Cambodia, I was with a French organization, and we had translators, which made things much easier.
This time will be different, because I’ll be spending 15 days alone in India. And when I’ve tried speaking English with Indians before, I found the accent quite challenging—so that’s a bit of an unknown for me.
That said, I have a friend who traveled around the world for a year and a half and barely spoke English, and she told me it was never really a problem. She said you always find ways to communicate, and that she developed a new ability to understand people beyond language.
We know that non-verbal communication represents a huge part of how we connect: that’s one of the most amazing things about traveling—you learn to communicate differently, not just through words.
That’s also why I enjoy speaking English, even if I’m not fluent. It forces you to think differently, to observe more, to pay attention to details in others. You develop a kind of sensitivity, almost like an extra sense, that allows you to connect with people even without sharing the same language.
Was there, perhaps, a particular encounter that marked you the most?
Yes, definitely. The most meaningful encounter was with the woman leading the caravan. I had already met her in July, and she’s the reason I decided to come back. She created what she calls the “Caravan of Love.” For me, she represents a powerful counterexample to the stereotypes we often have in France about Moroccan Muslim women.
In France, there are still many prejudices about veiled women and about Islam. Meeting her completely challenged those assumptions. She was very different from what I had imagined or what we often hear back home. That encounter was really the most impactful and decisive for me.
Could you guide me through what a typical day looks like during these missions?
The caravan lasted one week and moved from village to village. The idea was to offer performances, artistic workshops, and distribute donations such as school supplies, clothes and household items. We were about twenty people, traveling by car with a small truck carrying all the equipment.
In the morning, we would travel to the next village, depending on the distance. When we arrived, there was always a welcoming protocol: we were received by local associations and village representatives, and we would share tea together, which is an important cultural moment in Morocco.
In the afternoon, we organized workshops. I personally led painting workshops with children, and there were also sports activities. Lunch could last up to four hours, so the daily rhythm was quite different from what we are used to.
In the evening, from around 8 p.m. until sometimes 1 a.m., there was a big show for the whole village. There were performances for children—clowns, singers—as well as interactive games involving adults. It was a series of acts throughout the evening, and at the end, we distributed school supplies to the children. At the end of the day, there was always something special. For example, each day they would give a washing machine to a woman in the village who was particularly in need. There were also small gifts for the games and prizes for participants. Then there was a kind of closing ceremony where each child was called one by one, with photos and a really warm, communal atmosphere.
After that, we would eat together, and then go to bed. And the next morning, we would set off again for another village.
Looking ahead, could you imagine living more permanently in one of these countries and helping a community over a longer period of time?
In Morocco, yes—I’m starting to think about it. When I first came back, my idea was more to travel frequently but to different places each time, and that’s still part of my plan. For example, I’m planning to stay in France in January and February, then leave again for a month in March. I don’t yet know where, but I really want to go back to Morocco.
So now I’m looking into what I could do there—maybe develop projects, get more involved.
Would that be the case, how would you reconcile it with your private life?
I do have some family constraints, especially because I need to take care of my mother, who is ill, so I can’t move abroad permanently.
But for the first time, I’m thinking differently. I’m not old, but I’ve started to imagine what it would be like to live and even grow older somewhere else. Traveling has made me realize how big the world is and how much there is to learn. I think one of my main qualities is curiosity—I like being challenged, I like being destabilized.
And now, I can’t really imagine my life without that anymore, without leaving France regularly. I’ve also started to see the limits of the Western lifestyle, and I don’t always feel aligned with certain aspects of my own culture anymore. So yes, it’s definitely something I’m considering.
I know you are a published writer, have you ever thought of writing a book either inspired by or documenting such experiences?
That’s something people often suggest, but no—not really. When I’m there, I just want to experience everything fully. For example, I usually love reading, but I can’t even read when I’m on these missions.
That said, this time will be a bit different. I’ll be doing 15 days of medical mission and then 15 days of traveling on my own, which is something I’ve never done before. So I do have a small writing project in mind—something semi-fictional.
I’ll probably share things on Instagram, and maybe develop something more from that experience. We’ll see.
If you could give advice to your past self before going on your first mission, what would it be?
I would say: just dare.
There’s a phrase that really stayed with me after Morocco: “Jump, and the net will appear.” I love it, and it has become a kind of personal mantra for me.
Before leaving, you have to accept that you will be destabilized. You have to be ready to strip away your certainties, in a way—and that’s not easy. That’s exactly what makes the experience so valuable.
