I chose the 4th option- Describe a place or environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you?
** before you read, this essay isn't completed yet. I feel like I could add a little more, maybe expand on why it is meaningful? I can't seem to figure out exactly how to do that, so PLEASE if you have any suggestions, help me out!**
The first time I stepped foot inside a plane was 9 years ago. On December 24th, 2004, my family and I boarded a Boeing 747, and flew halfway across the world in eighteen hours. Everything I had known from a routine life in India ran dry as we reached the States.
That flight brought me here, and put me in a culture where I learned that it was considered polite to smile at strangers. It introduced me to a school where teachers were more like friends, instead of authority figures. It showed me a society where no one hesitated to dress in his or her unique style. It delved me in an environment where I learned to become an observer.
Eighteen hours on a plane, and my life changed from everything it would have been in India. This transformative experience is the very reason I appreciate any opportunity I have to travel. Some people complain about the inconveniences of long flights, but I am perfectly content in the confined spaces of a single economy- section seat. There is a bittersweet satisfaction in not having enough room to stretch my legs, and ending up getting the seat next to the snorer.
Everyone on that plane has a story that I don't know, but sitting in a crowd where I'm a stranger to everyone, and everyone is a stranger to me, somehow brings me the greatest pleasure. It stimulates a sense of freedom in me- just like 9 years ago, I can change myself again and again- letting the cultures of different places and different people blend in with my own diverse one. I can make new routines and break them. I can wake up to Bali, and sleep to Italy. I have learned more from living in America than 650 words allows me to cover, but there is so, so much more waiting for me out there. I have barely seen the world, and barely heard the stories everyone has to tell. Sitting inside a plane, though, I am free to explore. I am free to recreate. I am free to be someone different. And all it will ever take is a ticket.
** before you read, this essay isn't completed yet. I feel like I could add a little more, maybe expand on why it is meaningful? I can't seem to figure out exactly how to do that, so PLEASE if you have any suggestions, help me out!**
The first time I stepped foot inside a plane was 9 years ago. On December 24th, 2004, my family and I boarded a Boeing 747, and flew halfway across the world in eighteen hours. Everything I had known from a routine life in India ran dry as we reached the States.
That flight brought me here, and put me in a culture where I learned that it was considered polite to smile at strangers. It introduced me to a school where teachers were more like friends, instead of authority figures. It showed me a society where no one hesitated to dress in his or her unique style. It delved me in an environment where I learned to become an observer.
Eighteen hours on a plane, and my life changed from everything it would have been in India. This transformative experience is the very reason I appreciate any opportunity I have to travel. Some people complain about the inconveniences of long flights, but I am perfectly content in the confined spaces of a single economy- section seat. There is a bittersweet satisfaction in not having enough room to stretch my legs, and ending up getting the seat next to the snorer.
Everyone on that plane has a story that I don't know, but sitting in a crowd where I'm a stranger to everyone, and everyone is a stranger to me, somehow brings me the greatest pleasure. It stimulates a sense of freedom in me- just like 9 years ago, I can change myself again and again- letting the cultures of different places and different people blend in with my own diverse one. I can make new routines and break them. I can wake up to Bali, and sleep to Italy. I have learned more from living in America than 650 words allows me to cover, but there is so, so much more waiting for me out there. I have barely seen the world, and barely heard the stories everyone has to tell. Sitting inside a plane, though, I am free to explore. I am free to recreate. I am free to be someone different. And all it will ever take is a ticket.
