I know I need to do a lot of work. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated, and I would be happy to help you with yours.
Is it possible for an intelligent Caucasian girl to bring a new perspective? Is it possible for the daughter of doctors to add to diversity? While I might not add to ethnic diversity at Rice, I am a unique person with a unique perspective.
I have travelled across the world, living in homestays and immersing myself in cultures that are as different from the American way of life as I can get. I lived with headhunters. Well, my hosts themselves never collected heads, but human skulls--captured by their ancestors--hung from the ceiling of the common room. I cooked with my host mother, peeling ginger, pouring water, tasting spices. I even tasted one powder that I couldn't identify until I had left the longhouse. It was white, and it tasted both sweet and salty. Our mother kept the powder in a large plastic bag between the sugar and flour. She instructed us to dump four handfuls of the mystery powder into the ginger chicken, which ended up tasting phenomenal. When we visited a grocery store in Miri, the biggest city near the longhouse, we found MSG between the sugar and flour and realized why the chicken tasted so delicious.
Am I unique because I travel? No, but I have had unique experiences. I never stay in resorts or spend hours lounging around a tourist-filled pool. I live in homestays, interacting with the locals, eating their food, learning from their culture. My time abroad has not always been comfortable, but if I wanted comfort, I would stay home. I travel because I am curious and eager to experience diverse ideas, religions, cultures. I travel to learn. What new perspective will I bring? I will bring the perspectives of everyone I have met.
I will bring the perspective of Rodney, a Chinese restaurant-owner in Kuching, Sarawak, Borneo, who adopted my father as his American best friend. Actually, Rodney didn't own the restaurant, a dark narrow room covered with tiki decorations; his father had instructed him to run it. Rodney kept the restaurant open only a couple hours a night, reserving most of his evenings for very important personal matters that required him to visit the various clubs in Kuching; his father was not pleased. Even though Rodney this lack of responsibility, I admire him. Although his restaurant was failing, and he could not earn very much money, Rodney managed to find happiness. Outgoing and shameless, he made new friends everywhere, offering strangers tuak (rice wine) and eagerly driving them around Kuching, sometimes at four in the morning. Rodney taught me to find happiness in friendships and adventures, to value experiences more than things.
I will bring the perspective of Angeline, the granddaughter of our Iban, MSG-eating hosts and the smartest five-year-old I have ever met. Even though she had only been learning English for one year, she spoke to us eagerly, telling us about her name, her school, her family. She went to school a few miles away with all the longhouse children, but school let out for Gawai Dayak, the most important holiday in Sarawak. To celebrate, Angeline spent the break with her grandparents, who lived on the opposite side of the longhouse. Living in the middle of the rainforest, Angeline couldn't go to museums to escape the rain or visit the mall to buy new games whenever she wanted. However, we entertained her, with our confused looks and awkward grunting, and she shrieked ecstatically when I gave her a pack of Silly Bandz. She found delight in anything new, cheerfully learning English and talking with her grandparents' peculiar guests. Angeline demonstrated the magic of learning and showed how an open mind can bring happiness.
I will bring the perspective of Paco, my host father in Granada, Spain, who proudly kept a collection of Mozart's complete works and watched every one of Spain's footbol games, staring with wide eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, yelling at the players through the television screen. He had lived through Franco's reign, but when my roommate, instructed by her Spanish teacher, asked him to describe his life under Franco, Paco didn't even look up from his gazpacho. He shook his head and announced, "No hablamos de polĂtica." During Franco's dictatorship, the Spanish people had learned to not discuss their opinions, fearful of the Generalissimo's wrath. In San Francisco, political opinions ooze out of every home, manifesting themselves as bumper stickers, signs in windows and protests. I had expected Paco to describe the terrible oppression or the dying economy, but he remained silent. Remembering that Paco had, at one time, been forced to keep quiet about what he believed in, I learned to value my freedom.
We are the products of our experiences. I have had the opportunity to travel to exotic lands and meet diverse people, who have helped me develop a unique perspective. Rodney taught me that, while material goods might lose their charm, adventures with friends create lifelong memories. Adopting this attitude, I learned to treasure my journeys more than my souvenirs. Even though only five years old, Angeline demonstrated the magic of novelty, showing how new people and places bring entertainment and happiness. Angeline inspired my desire for knowledge, reminding me that new things--whether learned from weird Americans, teachers, or friends--can create joy. Paco taught me to appreciate my freedom. I learned to exercise my rights by reading the news, paying attention to liberals and conservatives, and forming my own opinions. I have learned infinitely many things from my time abroad. I learned to appreciate our differences as what make us interesting and beautiful, and I learned that diversity makes any environment enriching and inspiring.
Is it possible for an intelligent Caucasian girl to bring a new perspective? Is it possible for the daughter of doctors to add to diversity? While I might not add to ethnic diversity at Rice, I am a unique person with a unique perspective.
I have travelled across the world, living in homestays and immersing myself in cultures that are as different from the American way of life as I can get. I lived with headhunters. Well, my hosts themselves never collected heads, but human skulls--captured by their ancestors--hung from the ceiling of the common room. I cooked with my host mother, peeling ginger, pouring water, tasting spices. I even tasted one powder that I couldn't identify until I had left the longhouse. It was white, and it tasted both sweet and salty. Our mother kept the powder in a large plastic bag between the sugar and flour. She instructed us to dump four handfuls of the mystery powder into the ginger chicken, which ended up tasting phenomenal. When we visited a grocery store in Miri, the biggest city near the longhouse, we found MSG between the sugar and flour and realized why the chicken tasted so delicious.
Am I unique because I travel? No, but I have had unique experiences. I never stay in resorts or spend hours lounging around a tourist-filled pool. I live in homestays, interacting with the locals, eating their food, learning from their culture. My time abroad has not always been comfortable, but if I wanted comfort, I would stay home. I travel because I am curious and eager to experience diverse ideas, religions, cultures. I travel to learn. What new perspective will I bring? I will bring the perspectives of everyone I have met.
I will bring the perspective of Rodney, a Chinese restaurant-owner in Kuching, Sarawak, Borneo, who adopted my father as his American best friend. Actually, Rodney didn't own the restaurant, a dark narrow room covered with tiki decorations; his father had instructed him to run it. Rodney kept the restaurant open only a couple hours a night, reserving most of his evenings for very important personal matters that required him to visit the various clubs in Kuching; his father was not pleased. Even though Rodney this lack of responsibility, I admire him. Although his restaurant was failing, and he could not earn very much money, Rodney managed to find happiness. Outgoing and shameless, he made new friends everywhere, offering strangers tuak (rice wine) and eagerly driving them around Kuching, sometimes at four in the morning. Rodney taught me to find happiness in friendships and adventures, to value experiences more than things.
I will bring the perspective of Angeline, the granddaughter of our Iban, MSG-eating hosts and the smartest five-year-old I have ever met. Even though she had only been learning English for one year, she spoke to us eagerly, telling us about her name, her school, her family. She went to school a few miles away with all the longhouse children, but school let out for Gawai Dayak, the most important holiday in Sarawak. To celebrate, Angeline spent the break with her grandparents, who lived on the opposite side of the longhouse. Living in the middle of the rainforest, Angeline couldn't go to museums to escape the rain or visit the mall to buy new games whenever she wanted. However, we entertained her, with our confused looks and awkward grunting, and she shrieked ecstatically when I gave her a pack of Silly Bandz. She found delight in anything new, cheerfully learning English and talking with her grandparents' peculiar guests. Angeline demonstrated the magic of learning and showed how an open mind can bring happiness.
I will bring the perspective of Paco, my host father in Granada, Spain, who proudly kept a collection of Mozart's complete works and watched every one of Spain's footbol games, staring with wide eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, yelling at the players through the television screen. He had lived through Franco's reign, but when my roommate, instructed by her Spanish teacher, asked him to describe his life under Franco, Paco didn't even look up from his gazpacho. He shook his head and announced, "No hablamos de polĂtica." During Franco's dictatorship, the Spanish people had learned to not discuss their opinions, fearful of the Generalissimo's wrath. In San Francisco, political opinions ooze out of every home, manifesting themselves as bumper stickers, signs in windows and protests. I had expected Paco to describe the terrible oppression or the dying economy, but he remained silent. Remembering that Paco had, at one time, been forced to keep quiet about what he believed in, I learned to value my freedom.
We are the products of our experiences. I have had the opportunity to travel to exotic lands and meet diverse people, who have helped me develop a unique perspective. Rodney taught me that, while material goods might lose their charm, adventures with friends create lifelong memories. Adopting this attitude, I learned to treasure my journeys more than my souvenirs. Even though only five years old, Angeline demonstrated the magic of novelty, showing how new people and places bring entertainment and happiness. Angeline inspired my desire for knowledge, reminding me that new things--whether learned from weird Americans, teachers, or friends--can create joy. Paco taught me to appreciate my freedom. I learned to exercise my rights by reading the news, paying attention to liberals and conservatives, and forming my own opinions. I have learned infinitely many things from my time abroad. I learned to appreciate our differences as what make us interesting and beautiful, and I learned that diversity makes any environment enriching and inspiring.