Undergraduate /
"So where is Waldo, really?" UCHICAGO Supplemental Essay [3]
I will appreciate any critical criticism. Thank you very much.
I found Waldo!
I found Waldo! He was hiding in the most unexpected place; he was standing in a bookstore in Koblenz, Germany. I was glad I wore my fancy black-leather jacket, I was about to meet a celebrity! He was wearing his usual wardrobe: red and white striped sweater, blue jeans, brown boots, round glasses, and his red and white bobbed hat. However, when I excitedly screamed "Waldo! Waldo!" he did not respond - not even a nod. "That is strange," I thought. So I decided to approach him. By the way, Waldo is much taller than most people think. "Hi Waldo what are you doing here?" I asked. "Entschuldigen Sie, aber mein Name ist Walter (Excuse me, but my name is Walter)," he replied. I was stunned, "Walter? Wait, he speaks German?" I then asked: "Warum bist du in Koblenz? Und Ăźbrigens, ich bin sicher dein Name ist Waldo (Why are you in Koblenz? By the way, I am pretty sure your name is Waldo.)" "Ach so, du bist Amerikaner! (Oh I see! You're American!)" he replied. At that point I was very confused. I did not understand what he meant by "You're American." How could he tell? Then I said, "Ja, ich weiĂ, aber du hast meine Frage nicht beantwortet (Yes, I know, but you did not answer my question.) " He sighed and said, "Ugh Amis, kannst du nicht sehen, dass ich arbeite! (Ugh Americans, can't you see that I'm working!)" Now I was getting a bit worried, maybe Waldo had gone mad, "Working... doing what? Does he work in the bookstore? But he is just standing next to a bookshelf." I finally decided it was best to let him "work" so I said "Tut mir leid, ich werde jetzt gehen (I'm sorry, I'll go now)." As I slowly walked towards the exit door, he yelled "Treff mich am Deutschen Eck, ich bin fast fertig (Meet me at the Deutschen Eck, I am almost finished.)"
I sat patiently on the stairs of the great monument. Suddenly, I spotted Waldo-sorry, Walter. We both sat quietly for a couple of minutes, the view was breath-taking. Then he said, "Ich bin schon oft in Koblenz gewesen, aber der Rhein sieht immer schĂśn aus, besonders im Sonnenuntergang (I've been to Koblenz many times, but I never get tired of watching the Rhine during sunset.)" I replied, "Ja, es ist sehr schĂśn (Yes, it's very beautiful.)" He surprisingly said, "Sorry for my rudeness, what is your name?" "My name is Jesus." He giggled and said, "That's a cool name." At that point I could not resist asking the question: "Walter, how did you know I'm American?" He smiled and said, "Only Amis call me Waldo, but my real name is Wally." Now I was seriously confused, Waldo, Walter, and now Wally? He then explained, "I was born in the UK and my birth name is actually Wally. However, I have been all over the world so I have different names in different places, whoever people want me to be." Slightly amused I smiled and pointed out that I have only one name all over the world.
"So Jesus what brings you to Koblenz this time of the year?" he asked. I replied, "I'm an exchange student and my village is close by." "Wow! That's awesome," said Wally. "Yes but not as amazing as you, you're like an exchange student on steroids." He laughed and said, "I guess you can say that. I've been to many beautiful places, but sometimes I just wish I was home." "Yes it's tough being away from your family," I admitted. We were silent for a couple of minutes. Then he suddenly gasped and said "Oh man, I have to go now. I must take a plane to Paris." "When will I see you again?" I asked. "Soon enough, bye." He gave me a wink and left.
Two weeks had passed after meeting Wally. I decided to visit Koblenz once more. I passed by the bookstore and decided to go in. I remembered the exact bookshelf Wally was standing at. As I got closer to the bookshelf, I noticed a book that said "Wo ist Walter? (Where's Waldo?)" I grabbed it and opened it on the first page. I was scanning through the page searching for Wally. Aha! I found you! It was not difficult to find him. He was standing next to a bookshelf talking to a guy with a really fancy black-leather jacket.