Talking to Strangers (College Application Essay, 2012-2013)

I had always held the impression that most of the excitement on Earth happened without me, that I was always missing out on something. Of course, my being a Malaysian who grew up in China with an American education, my anti-Truman Show view of my world was probably half-justified. A jack of all cultural trades, I lived my life receiving nothing more than a meager taste of every culture. In a sense, most of the time I was left out of the mix; but from this feeling of isolation sprouted my longing to soak up as much as I could of the world around me. My inner explorer, my insatiable desire to go out and absorb as many enlightening stories as I could, always prompted me to lean in on the complete stranger sitting next to me and ask about his or her life.

Every time I started a conversation, I never knew where it would go or how it would end. It was from these precious, spontaneous moments that beautiful ideas, breathtaking inspirations and life-altering revelations came into existence. Every snap of a tone or tang of a word would paint a new stroke of this person before me. A two-hour flight between Boston and D.C. would provide plenty of time for me to earnestly listen and relate to a businessman sitting next to me, who complained about how he missed his chance to serve in Iraq when he hurt his back right before he was to be stationed; a 45- minute subway ride in Shanghai gave me enough time to hear from this foreign exchange student standing next to me who was earning a much better wage here as an English tutor than he used to as a waiter back in Alabama; even a five-minute wait in line at a local McDonald's would give me the chance to scribble the name of a nearby, curious five-year old kid in my notebook, delighting him and showing him how “we left-handed people” wrote. My iPod stayed off in my bag; I never thought to reach for it. Through these small, meaningful encounters, I soon realized that, more often than not, people enjoyed having someone to talk to about their lives, to share their thoughts with, to answer their questions. Me, I managed to keep my once-empty glass half-full with these fascinating perspectives of everyday people around me.

Perhaps the most invigorating exchange that I had ever experienced happened with a taxi driver during one mellow night in New York City. After he told me that he was Nigerian, I asked about how things were with the first Christian President of Nigeria (I had studied a bit of Nigerian history the year before). “Not well,” he replied, “doesn’t matter what religion they are, Muslim or Christian or whatever, they’re all corrupt.” Before we knew it, the discussion escalated into a long, passionate tirade. From what others would perceive as a mere taxi driver, I gained a first-hand account of what it was like to live through five government takeovers, to see so many people killed in the process, the success story of how this one man struggled through all that despair and made it through to “the land of freedom.” After he had calmed down, I asked him if he ever wanted to go back and possibly make a change. A look of what I at first perceived to be astonishment glazed over his face.

At the end of our ride, he turned around to face me, “This has been the best taxi ride I have ever given to anybody. Kid, you have inspired me. Next week, I will buy tickets to go home. I will gather my friends together. I will start a revolution.”

You would be surprised by how many opportunities you have missed out on by simply plugging in and drowning everything out. You would be surprised by how much you could change the world by asking a question and just simply listening to what the person next to you on a subway, taxi or plane ride has to offer. They would be surprised too when they listen to what you have to offer as well. The truth that I have gathered, after all these remarkable encounters, is that everybody has a story to tell. This phrase has captured and liberated me, becoming an intrinsic element of who I am.