I wish the Common App had a section to check off all the countries you have been to. Personally, there is much more to learn about me and my character from my passport rather than my yearbook. I am blessed with the opportunity to be able to travel the world, and I am immensely grateful for the experiences. But seeing the world firsthand is not just a fun getaway, but a life changing undertaking.
I first traveled abroad at the age of two, and second at the age of three. Since then, I have breathed the air of thirteen countries and twenty states besides my own, and returned from each a bit wiser. I have seen the lush green fields of Ireland and the dry rocky terrain of Utah. I have seen Icelandic black sand beaches and rocky Corsican ones, and I have eaten paella in Spain and souvlaki in Greece. Contrary to those last three sentences, , these ventures have given me more than just bragging rights and Instagram pictures.
I was ten years old on my second trip to Ireland when I realized traveling was worth it. My cousins and I were driving on a farm road, hardly an unfamiliar feat for the island, when we passed a little shack on the side of the road. My father, from the driver’s seat, told us that the house was probably older than America itself. At that moment, I realized how vast and timeless the world is, and committed myself to it.
However, there was something idiosyncratic about my most recent trip around Europe—the presence of interconnection.
I spent time this summer in the company of teenagers from all over the world: from Germany, Spain, Mexico, Italy, Turkey, France, Canada, and, though besides the point, Boston. First and foremost, I must state how impressive their English was. Most of them learned the language in school, the same we do, but I cannot imagine I would be able to form these connections in Spanish that they did in English.
I took away so much from meeting and spending time with these people, but above all, I was struck by how normal it felt. Each person led an immensely different life than the next, but you would never know. It was not a connection regardless of background, but rather with respect to it. I spent hours explaining the intricacies of American football culture and the process of getting a driver’s license. I learned the complexity of the German school system and the best soccer players (or football, as they call it) to root for. We played the game Telephone in native languages, and laughed when los chicos son estupidos turned to gibberish.
Through this, I discovered that at our cores, no matter where we are from, we are all the same. We were not American teenagers or Turkish teenagers, but just teenagers. Regardless of the language of our words and thoughts, we enjoyed each other’s company in the simplest and most trivial of ways. I found it a strangely comforting realization that life is so simple.
I do not know if it is an American perspective to believe the world is so big and so incredibly complex. I suppose the European mindset is different, and possibly less detached. Nonetheless, I had the revelation that the world is a lot smaller than it seems. Foreigners can be familiar. There are parts of me, of all of us, in people that live oceans away.
To my new foreign friends: you truly have no idea how much you have enlightened me. I know I return to Newark Liberty International Airport every time as a changed and more sophisticated person, due solely to your unconscious influence. Thank you, gracias, merci, teşekkürler, grazie, danke.