Try to speak without words or talking without language. Frustrated? So was I -- at first.

Don't get me wrong, I love words. Communication, as I was taught in school and throughout life, is a necessity, not a luxury. The way we express how we are feeling, what we want, our thoughts, our admiration, our frustrations -- it is all expressed through words. But this summer, as I traveled throughout Israel and Spain, my words -- the English ones at least -- were taken away from me. I was left disabled -- incapable of using my greatest communicative tool. It was during this time that I learned two important things: how to really listen and that humans do not need words to communicate. After all, it is said that laughter is a universal language.

A person who is silenced is forced to listen and to observe. I first observed the kindness in others. We get lost in the competitive, fast-pace nature that is life, frequently opting not to perform the small acts of kindness that may consume too much of our precious time. But every now and then, we are fortunate enough to witness a moment of genuine consideration, a selfless gesture, that reminds us of our humanity.

I was one of those fortunate enough to witness an act of selflessness in Tel Aviv, Israel. As my friend and I drove to the beach in the scorching heat of the summer, our Jeep got caught on a hill, burying itself deeper into the sand with every tap of the gas peddle. It was not even five minutes before three men pulled over to help out. The men spoke to each other in Arabic and then to us in Hebrew. I responded in English, a language they clearly could not understand. Still, this did not prevent them from stopping in 110 degree weather to help dislodge our poor Jeep from the scorching sand. They did not hesitate to get on their knees and dig out the large wheels with their own two hands. They were still not disheartened when 30 minutes went by and the vehicle did not budge. I was silent as the men worked, but they could see the gratitude in my smile as the Jeep finally rolled back down the hill and onto the road.

I quickly realized that we do not need to speak the same language to be kind or to say thank you. We need only to be human.

A second incident showed me that I do not need to understand someone's words to understand what they are saying. As I walked through the Great Mosque of Granada, Spain, a small girl around the age of seven ran up to me with tears in her eyes and fear painted all over her porcelain-white face. She spoke a language I could not even decipher, but I quickly understood that she was lost. She could not understand my words either, but she clung onto my arm and felt comforted by my presence until finally, she was reunited with her family.

Again, I was reminded of the universal connection that humans share -- a connection more binding than words or language.

As I return to Los Angeles in a couple of weeks, I hope to utilize my newly developed listening techniques, observational skills and immense patience as I try to understand and communicate with people on a deeper and less superficial level.