Undergraduate / "I'm Living on a Jet Plane" - Am I Conveying Anything About Myself? [4]

This is an essay I wrote for Columbia's "Write an essay that conveys a sense of who you are" prompt. I would really appreciate some insight. Basically, I'm not very good at writing about myself and I'm not sure if it conveys who I am. Thanks in advance!

I'm Living on a Jet Plane

The world looks strikingly different when you're flying 30,000 feet above it. Buildings that seemed so imposing from below appear small and harmless. Winding roads that led to nowhere instead look practical and organized. And natural wonders you never knew existed unveil themselves from behind obstacles the ground provides for your vision. When you're flying above the earth, you see it in an entirely different light. But had you never left the ground, you never would have known what you were missing.

I arrived in Spain for my exchange program with the naivety that most Europeans associate with Americans. I confidently strutted off the airport bus with my massive traveler's backpack-equipped with water holders and a secret compartment for my until-recently unmarked passport-and began an initial assessment of my home for the summer. Though I had anticipated differences between the US and Spain, I had not expected to feel so overwhelmed by them. My native English was nonexistent, buildings looked old and unkempt, and everybody had cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. But what struck me the most was the abundance of graffiti wherever I looked. It covered the street-level facades of every building I saw, even on the 30-minute walk to my new home. It was inescapable.

This first impression left me extremely disconcerted. In my mind, graffiti and delinquency were synonymous. I spent the first few days of my summer abroad constantly on guard. My eyes darted about as I walked through the streets to school. I treated every passing stranger with suspicion. And to think I put myself in that position! I regretted the years of hard work and research I had invested to make the trip possible. My only desire was to get home safely.

However, I had no alternative but to ignore my apprehensions and immerse myself in the culture of Granada. And amazingly, after doing so, nothing suggested to me any abnormal amount of criminal behavior. I began to frequent the streets with my new school friends no matter what time of day it was. I ate at restaurants whose appearances would initially have turned me off. I felt surprisingly safe. Still, I hadn't reconciled the conflicting interpretations I had of the city. I finally spoke with one of my Spanish friends about my confusion.

He laughed at first, apparently never having considered a connection between graffiti and crime as I had. Instead, he regarded street art with the utmost respect. He even considered it to be as venerable as artwork in the Louvre. To him, it demonstrated the city's vivacity and modernity. It suggested nothing of danger.

I found the differing connotations of graffiti between us greatly intriguing. I realized that when I arrived in Granada, I judged the city unfairly. I assumed my beliefs were applicable no matter where I was and didn't account for any cultural variance or differences. Essentially, I came with a closed mind that had to be forced open. This realization led me to begin questioning other assumptions I had made in life and ultimately changed the way I interpreted the world around me.

Spain was the plane that lifted me off the ground to a higher viewpoint. The relationships I made and the diversity I experienced were the windows through which I looked and saw the world in a new light. The experience helped me truly internalize the value of an open mind. It motivated me to seek constant exposure to different ideas and beliefs so that I may develop more valid interpretations of my surroundings. It flew me out of my narrow ways of seeing and thinking and took me to a place I never want to leave.