Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family.
"Leave your backpack in case you don't come back" said the taxi driver when I tried to get out and take my wallet from my house. I must say I was pretty surprised that he doubted me because in our 20-minute trip we got to know each other quite well. We talked about Ulaanbaatar's terrible weather, NBA finals (we both thought GSW was overrated) , the upcoming political election and even about my gift for my prom date. We agreed on almost everything for he was such a cool guy for his age. I thought I understood his vigilance because many teenagers run away from the taxi without paying. I was so wrong and still can't believe I did as he said.
As usual my first instinct was to call my parents for help. I dialed their number but instantly cancelled it. I realized that I was doing the same old thing I always did when I got into trouble. I felt ashamed, even miserable. Not only because I was so careless and naďve, but because I was so helpless I couldn't do anything. That was the moment I realized I needed change and it was inevitable.
I was raised and educated in the suburbs. My parents paid much effort and money on my self-development, to instill a dream in me. I did everything they told me without questioning, following their guidance every step of the way. I was an excellent executor, however, I fell behind when it came to initiating. I was dependent on others and never relied on myself on anything. Until that fateful day, I had never done a thing for my own good. Unconsciously, I had created a shell, separating me from the world outside, from my hopes and dreams, as though it were not me but others who lived my life. That shell had to be broken open and I had to do it myself.
So I decided to act. I walked into the police station and asked to see the officer on duty. As I walked into his room, I saw a menacing figure with not the most friendly face. I tried hard not to look directly into his face. Sharp, eagle-like eyes were fixed on me as if they were drills. "You don't even know the color of the car?" he cried, giving me the "I don't have time for you, kid" look. I tried to answer as accurately and quickly as possible but the officer's mean look and the frustrated people waiting outside got on my nerves. Finally, he stopped questioning and told me to wait for another hour or two.
Unwavered by the cold reception at the police station and filled with my newborn confidence, I settled on cracking the case on my own. Putting on hat and pipe, I went full Sherlock Holmes-mode. With Ulaanbaatar's map in front of me, I marked the taxi's entire trip and spotted the places we stopped using dial times on my cell phone. I remembered exactly where we were when I was on my phone. Then I went to the stores we passed by to check their hidden cameras since all I needed to find was the number of the taxi. This kept on going and going as the cameras had very poor quality images but I did not even flinch. After hours of pursuit, I found the perfect shot from security camera outside a karaoke parlor entrance. I walked triumphantly into the detective's office, gave him a broad smile and shouted "6768 UBO!", the number of the cab.
It felt extraordinary, the taste of success, as if I was finally out of my shell. At the end of the day, I may have lost my backpack, but I found something much more valuable. I learned the power of initiative along with the importance of independence. This was the moment I knew I was ready to take off, to take on new responsibilities and go on to study in college.
I lost something, however I got a very valuable lesson in return
"Leave your backpack in case you don't come back" said the taxi driver when I tried to get out and take my wallet from my house. I must say I was pretty surprised that he doubted me because in our 20-minute trip we got to know each other quite well. We talked about Ulaanbaatar's terrible weather, NBA finals (we both thought GSW was overrated) , the upcoming political election and even about my gift for my prom date. We agreed on almost everything for he was such a cool guy for his age. I thought I understood his vigilance because many teenagers run away from the taxi without paying. I was so wrong and still can't believe I did as he said.
As usual my first instinct was to call my parents for help. I dialed their number but instantly cancelled it. I realized that I was doing the same old thing I always did when I got into trouble. I felt ashamed, even miserable. Not only because I was so careless and naďve, but because I was so helpless I couldn't do anything. That was the moment I realized I needed change and it was inevitable.
I was raised and educated in the suburbs. My parents paid much effort and money on my self-development, to instill a dream in me. I did everything they told me without questioning, following their guidance every step of the way. I was an excellent executor, however, I fell behind when it came to initiating. I was dependent on others and never relied on myself on anything. Until that fateful day, I had never done a thing for my own good. Unconsciously, I had created a shell, separating me from the world outside, from my hopes and dreams, as though it were not me but others who lived my life. That shell had to be broken open and I had to do it myself.
So I decided to act. I walked into the police station and asked to see the officer on duty. As I walked into his room, I saw a menacing figure with not the most friendly face. I tried hard not to look directly into his face. Sharp, eagle-like eyes were fixed on me as if they were drills. "You don't even know the color of the car?" he cried, giving me the "I don't have time for you, kid" look. I tried to answer as accurately and quickly as possible but the officer's mean look and the frustrated people waiting outside got on my nerves. Finally, he stopped questioning and told me to wait for another hour or two.
Unwavered by the cold reception at the police station and filled with my newborn confidence, I settled on cracking the case on my own. Putting on hat and pipe, I went full Sherlock Holmes-mode. With Ulaanbaatar's map in front of me, I marked the taxi's entire trip and spotted the places we stopped using dial times on my cell phone. I remembered exactly where we were when I was on my phone. Then I went to the stores we passed by to check their hidden cameras since all I needed to find was the number of the taxi. This kept on going and going as the cameras had very poor quality images but I did not even flinch. After hours of pursuit, I found the perfect shot from security camera outside a karaoke parlor entrance. I walked triumphantly into the detective's office, gave him a broad smile and shouted "6768 UBO!", the number of the cab.
It felt extraordinary, the taste of success, as if I was finally out of my shell. At the end of the day, I may have lost my backpack, but I found something much more valuable. I learned the power of initiative along with the importance of independence. This was the moment I knew I was ready to take off, to take on new responsibilities and go on to study in college.
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