Common App Essay
Topic of your choice: Elaborate on a time when something you witnessed caused you to reflect on your heritage.
Last summer, my parents invited their friends from Germany to visit Bhutan who stayed at my house for the better part of a week. I do not remember them much except for their son Jakub, who almost made me lose faith in my national identity. The day they arrived, I waited at the entrance of my home to personally welcome them. The first impression I had of them was not good. As they scaled the stairs of my garage, the first thing I witnessed was Jakub whining about being in "a pre-historic jungle."
Jakub's parents' faces were red with embarrassment at his remarks about the backwardness of Bhutan. I vaguely recall him referring to my home nation as being "primitive." The odd bit was the fact that I was not angry at his comments. For some reason, I found truth in his sentiments. I excused myself from lunch, my parents as well as his, visibly concerned, asked me where I was headed. "For a walk," I answered.
I headed down the streets of Thimphu, the capital of Bhutan. I looked around to find pieces of evidence to prove Jakub wrong, but I could not find any. No tall buildings, no highways, no sports cars, nothing metropolitan.
While I continued to search for material evidence, I noticed students clad in ghos and kiras (traditional Bhutanese dress), walking anxiously to school hoping they reach in time for their assembly where they cluster in a crowd, pray, and sing our national anthem; a practice serving to remind students of the unique heritage of Bhutan. There it was! Reason number one.
I continued on my walk more enthusiastically than before. After a while, my legs began to grow tired and I sat down on a bench by Tashichoedzong, the city's religious fortress. Horns exploded from the dzong signaling the end of the monks' prayer time and the road before me was engulfed in a sea of red robes as monks rushed to play by the river. One of the younger ones stopped next to me and asked me if I wanted to play Khuru (darts) with them. I politely refused, as it was getting dark but I truly appreciated the offer. I could feel the contentment growing inside of me.
On my way back home, I came across several posters advocating Gross National Happiness, a concept crafted by the Fourth Dragon King Jigme Singye Wangchuck, which read, "GNH is a holistic account of the nation's development marked by measures of the general happiness of the people." And then it hit me; Bhutan was a developed nation. I had found the final reason.
Jakub's sentiments seemed like a distant past now.
Recollecting the many sights of the day, the students upholding Bhutanese traditions, the kindhearted young monk who offered to play with me, and these two events showing me that Bhutan, infact, was developed in accordance to GNH, I realized that I loved my country for what it was regardless of how technologically backwards it was.
I went back home with a bigger heart and a wider smile than before. Upon entering my house, I greeted Jakub who was still sulking, bid his parents and mine goodnight, and laid in bed thinking to myself, "so this is home, this is Bhutan," the land of the thunder dragon.
Topic of your choice: Elaborate on a time when something you witnessed caused you to reflect on your heritage.
Last summer, my parents invited their friends from Germany to visit Bhutan who stayed at my house for the better part of a week. I do not remember them much except for their son Jakub, who almost made me lose faith in my national identity. The day they arrived, I waited at the entrance of my home to personally welcome them. The first impression I had of them was not good. As they scaled the stairs of my garage, the first thing I witnessed was Jakub whining about being in "a pre-historic jungle."
Jakub's parents' faces were red with embarrassment at his remarks about the backwardness of Bhutan. I vaguely recall him referring to my home nation as being "primitive." The odd bit was the fact that I was not angry at his comments. For some reason, I found truth in his sentiments. I excused myself from lunch, my parents as well as his, visibly concerned, asked me where I was headed. "For a walk," I answered.
I headed down the streets of Thimphu, the capital of Bhutan. I looked around to find pieces of evidence to prove Jakub wrong, but I could not find any. No tall buildings, no highways, no sports cars, nothing metropolitan.
While I continued to search for material evidence, I noticed students clad in ghos and kiras (traditional Bhutanese dress), walking anxiously to school hoping they reach in time for their assembly where they cluster in a crowd, pray, and sing our national anthem; a practice serving to remind students of the unique heritage of Bhutan. There it was! Reason number one.
I continued on my walk more enthusiastically than before. After a while, my legs began to grow tired and I sat down on a bench by Tashichoedzong, the city's religious fortress. Horns exploded from the dzong signaling the end of the monks' prayer time and the road before me was engulfed in a sea of red robes as monks rushed to play by the river. One of the younger ones stopped next to me and asked me if I wanted to play Khuru (darts) with them. I politely refused, as it was getting dark but I truly appreciated the offer. I could feel the contentment growing inside of me.
On my way back home, I came across several posters advocating Gross National Happiness, a concept crafted by the Fourth Dragon King Jigme Singye Wangchuck, which read, "GNH is a holistic account of the nation's development marked by measures of the general happiness of the people." And then it hit me; Bhutan was a developed nation. I had found the final reason.
Jakub's sentiments seemed like a distant past now.
Recollecting the many sights of the day, the students upholding Bhutanese traditions, the kindhearted young monk who offered to play with me, and these two events showing me that Bhutan, infact, was developed in accordance to GNH, I realized that I loved my country for what it was regardless of how technologically backwards it was.
I went back home with a bigger heart and a wider smile than before. Upon entering my house, I greeted Jakub who was still sulking, bid his parents and mine goodnight, and laid in bed thinking to myself, "so this is home, this is Bhutan," the land of the thunder dragon.