blags66
Sep 24, 2012
Undergraduate / Common App Essay: The Value of Travel (My travels to Colombia) [2]
"Any youth who doesn't travel is like a blind person." I recently read that line by Sekou Camara about the value of travel, and the more I thought about it, the more it helped me to understand the impact of my three visits to Colombia, my mother's native land.
As a fourth grader on my first trip to Colombia with my family, I was unprepared for the lifestyle I would encounter there. The difference could be summed up in my addiction to ketchup, which I then obsessively slathered on everything, even macaroni and cheese. The problem? In Colombia, ketchup was virtually nonexistent, a fact I refused to accept. Upset and naïve, I decided to go on a hunger strike. Eventually, my stomach betrayed me. I reluctantly tried some of the Colombian foods -- coconut rice, tamales -- that were placed in front of me. I had never tasted these foods before, for my mother's cooking at home was largely Americanized. To my surprise, I discovered wonderful tastes, aromas, and textures. Once back home, I begged my mother to make more of those REAL Colombian dishes, dishes I never doctored with ketchup. And I was more receptive to other ethnic foods which I knew I would grow to love.
When I was a young teenager, we returned to Colombia, and I brought my football to show my cousins. They were not impressed. Instead, one brought out a worn, black and white soccer ball. I had never really played soccer, but my cousins were extremely enthusiastic. Soon, I was despondent: soccer, or "fĂștbol," was not easy. But the challenge of kicking the ball and the intensity of play compelled me to keep playing. When we went inside, one cousin tuned in the TV to a Colombian soccer match. The spirit in that room was incredible. We huddled and cheered; the commentators screamed; the fans roared as they waved Colombian flags. The passion for soccer born in me that day influenced me to join my school team back home. As a result of that trip, I have excelled at a sport, formed remarkable relationships in my American soccer "career," and have learned invaluable lessons about character and goals that stem from teamwork.
In my Junior year, we again traveled to Colombia, and my goal was to practice the Spanish skills I had been building for years. Embracing my opportunity, I spoke only Spanish with all whom I met, and from them, I learned many unfamiliar words, especially those unique to Colombia. Through these dialectical variations, I recognized a fellowship and kinship that helped the Colombians through hard times and underscored good times. Their verbal play, mellow tones, and open personalities revealed their concern for each other, their acceptance of strangers in their midst, and their unexpressed but obvious understanding of the power of language. I was deeply moved. My Spanish skills increased dramatically on that trip, but my personal outlook and my sensitivity to my own language grew even more. Back home, I was determined to become a more respectful, kind, and helpful person, incorporating the values of Colombian culture into my American routine: decency is universal.
From my trips, I understand what Camara means about travel: Colombia helped me to see an interactive world and to understand that I do not belong to that group of people to whom the playwright Noel Coward referred when he asked, "Why do the wrong people travel?" Coward meant those who blindly view the new through old prejudices. Camara and Colombia helped me to see and to grow from what is before my eyes and to define the person I am today.
Any feedback on this essay would be highly appreciated. Thanks! I believe it would be "topic of your choice."
"Any youth who doesn't travel is like a blind person." I recently read that line by Sekou Camara about the value of travel, and the more I thought about it, the more it helped me to understand the impact of my three visits to Colombia, my mother's native land.
As a fourth grader on my first trip to Colombia with my family, I was unprepared for the lifestyle I would encounter there. The difference could be summed up in my addiction to ketchup, which I then obsessively slathered on everything, even macaroni and cheese. The problem? In Colombia, ketchup was virtually nonexistent, a fact I refused to accept. Upset and naïve, I decided to go on a hunger strike. Eventually, my stomach betrayed me. I reluctantly tried some of the Colombian foods -- coconut rice, tamales -- that were placed in front of me. I had never tasted these foods before, for my mother's cooking at home was largely Americanized. To my surprise, I discovered wonderful tastes, aromas, and textures. Once back home, I begged my mother to make more of those REAL Colombian dishes, dishes I never doctored with ketchup. And I was more receptive to other ethnic foods which I knew I would grow to love.
When I was a young teenager, we returned to Colombia, and I brought my football to show my cousins. They were not impressed. Instead, one brought out a worn, black and white soccer ball. I had never really played soccer, but my cousins were extremely enthusiastic. Soon, I was despondent: soccer, or "fĂștbol," was not easy. But the challenge of kicking the ball and the intensity of play compelled me to keep playing. When we went inside, one cousin tuned in the TV to a Colombian soccer match. The spirit in that room was incredible. We huddled and cheered; the commentators screamed; the fans roared as they waved Colombian flags. The passion for soccer born in me that day influenced me to join my school team back home. As a result of that trip, I have excelled at a sport, formed remarkable relationships in my American soccer "career," and have learned invaluable lessons about character and goals that stem from teamwork.
In my Junior year, we again traveled to Colombia, and my goal was to practice the Spanish skills I had been building for years. Embracing my opportunity, I spoke only Spanish with all whom I met, and from them, I learned many unfamiliar words, especially those unique to Colombia. Through these dialectical variations, I recognized a fellowship and kinship that helped the Colombians through hard times and underscored good times. Their verbal play, mellow tones, and open personalities revealed their concern for each other, their acceptance of strangers in their midst, and their unexpressed but obvious understanding of the power of language. I was deeply moved. My Spanish skills increased dramatically on that trip, but my personal outlook and my sensitivity to my own language grew even more. Back home, I was determined to become a more respectful, kind, and helpful person, incorporating the values of Colombian culture into my American routine: decency is universal.
From my trips, I understand what Camara means about travel: Colombia helped me to see an interactive world and to understand that I do not belong to that group of people to whom the playwright Noel Coward referred when he asked, "Why do the wrong people travel?" Coward meant those who blindly view the new through old prejudices. Camara and Colombia helped me to see and to grow from what is before my eyes and to define the person I am today.
Any feedback on this essay would be highly appreciated. Thanks! I believe it would be "topic of your choice."