Reflection Paper

I flew from Las Vegas to an airport close to the Caribbean rainforest, this was my first time on a plane, I never would have imagined it would be to start my dream job and go to an exotic place. I mean, who could ever get so lucky on their first assignment. I was expecting to get sent to the middle of a hot desert or a humid rain forest infested with flying and biting bugs. I knew it was time to start my adventure when I got off that plane, but it was also time to start my adult life as well. The plane ride was full of me asking myself questions about this trip that I really could not answer. I kept asking myself what would I encounter when I reached the tribe, would they be accepting of me, would things be hostile or friendly, will I be able to adapt well enough to their style of living to be able to complete my assignment. I could not stop thinking of all the ways this trip could play

A trip can become the adventure of a lifetime. Factors such as practicing the language, learning the indigenous culture, and interacting with fellow members can help further invigorate amazing experiences. Moreover, a trip can become an embedded memory, with lessons and stories to tell, a brilliant diamond in a chest of recollection jewels. Going to Puerto Rico, a land doused in rich history and traditions, will spark an unforgettable journey into the mind of an aspiring adolescent: myself, Christopher Ye.

Almost a decade has passed and yet, the daunting feeling of stepping off the plane, into the unknown remained. Thoughts rushed through my naïve mind, as the brisk breeze brushed my face.Where am I?Why am I here? Racing through the airport, I was overwhelmed as people paced past me, my mind filled with curiosity and my heart beating louder than a drum. Everything was new, the silence, the purity, the beauty.This new country seemed unrealistic to me, it felt like I was in a dream as I was introduced tonew things. Aspects I couldn’t understand as a little girl were all thrown at me in an instant, skin colours that I didn’t think existed, a new culture, and a new language which sounded like drivel. I slowly began to realize that this wasn’t a dream,

The very next week I was ready to experience what it’s like being in another country with different customs and culture. July 3 the day was finally here, I grabbed my suitcase and met with my grandma and we got ready for our flight. As I board the airplane, I had butterflies in my stomach. I think to myself “Wow this is really happening”. A few minutes past by and we take off. The take off was probably the greatest part of the flight, I wasn’t scared or nervous I was having so much fun. After 6-7 hours of being on a plane we finally land in Guatemala City. Leaving the airport everything gets my attention. Kids on the street playing soccer, buildings all next to each other, and color everywhere. I smell different foods from left to right, I'm amazed at everything, it's something I’ll never

It wasn’t my first time travelling outside the country. I had gone on numerous journeys with my parents, and my many experiences gave me a broad view of the world. From seeing the content beachside life of residents in Cancun to the bustling, trendy streets of London, the small fragments of the Earth’s surface I’ve been exposed to have opened my eyes to so much enjoyment and cultural enrichment.

It was April 3, 2015. While the wind danced around picking few leaves here and there along with itself, my spirit on the other hand, marked with unease and nervousness stood in stark contrast. It was time to board the airplane for United States of America; it was time to leave India, my birthplace as well as my home for 14 years. With hopes of achieving the American Dream, my family and I would board the airplane, oblivious to the opportunities as well as hardships and sacrifices which would follow. Although the journey might seem as a physical one - of around 15 hours, it was a moral journey of understanding new cultures, new ideas, new struggles.Nevertheless, it was a journey to understand the true beauty of the world.

When I was 16 I went on a mission trip to Peru with my mother. I was extremely anxious while boarding the 7 hour plane ride to a continent I’ve never been to. I had barely any idea of what we were going to do or where in Peru we were going. We landed in Lima after a long 7 hours in the middle seat. We met the others who were attending this mission trip at the airport after we landed. We took a terrifying cab ride back to the housing. The roads were incredibly busy and unorganized. The housing was barely housing at all. The rooms were very tiny with very thin walls. Every room was separated by a deck and to walk to different parts of the building such as the bathroom, you had to walk outside. It was incredibly different from what I was used

Life in paradise is fine; I like the ever-present sun and strong sense of community. Yet for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt restless in Hawaii. I’ve daydreamed of far-away, fairytale kingdoms in kindergarten and chased after passing airplanes during recess. I was beyond excited when I visited my relatives in seventh grade, traveling nearly six thousand miles to their homes in China. Everything in the foreign land fascinated me; my head twisting every which way to marvel at the sizzling street food or the flash of red on a passing student’s uniform. Everyone was buzzing with a frantic energy that contrasted the laid-back lifestyle of Hawaii and I loved the change of pace. I had to learn about a new culture: how to hustle instead of simply

Sitting on the plane alone, I wondered what the next three weeks would bring. The light hum of the plane’s engines seemed to go on forever and the dry stale air began to scratch the inside of my throat. My destination was The Netherlands, where the entirety of my family lives. Throughout my youth seeing my family was a rare occasion, once a year if we were lucky, but after my parents divorced, we stopped going altogether. It had been over eight years since I had last visited them and because of the many years of separation, I felt uneasy about it all. Throughout the flight I couldn’t help but to think to myself several questions like: What I might be able to learn and experience from these next three weeks? How I would feel when I would first arrive? And how different everything would be. Having been there only a

Imagine living in a small town of 813, which I’m sure we can all visualize very well. Imagine, one day getting the opportunity to fly 3,247 miles south to a city called Quito, in Ecuador. Excitingly, this is the exact contingency my fellow spanish classmates and I have for next summer on June 13th thru June 14th. I know as a student in high school, that sitting in a classroom for six hours a day isn’t very hands on. Sometimes high school education can be less than exciting. But next summer I get the privilege to take my education to whole new country for 13 days. Not only on this trip will I participate in meaningful service, be immersed into a whole new culture and develop leadership skills, but I will also be impacted personally and transformed.

My semi-open, almond shaped eyes felt the burst of energy as the sun's warm rays pierced through the diminutive window. Believe me, three hours on an aircraft cramped into a minuscule seat while cruising over the Caribbean is quite treacherous. The thought of being immobile for an extensive amount of time made me feel like a caged animal. Throughout the plane's descent, I felt the butterflies flutter in my stomach, my eagerness to get off the plane and hear the noisy streets once again was unbearable. However, the notion of experiencing a new country and relaxing in the rural towns made my heart pound with excitement. Traveling through the Central American country of Guatemala portrayed the idea of cherishing the least and most valuable things in life.

It was the last day of my trip, and while I was washing plates in my grandmother’s house, the sunlight was reflected on the plates to my eyes. The fear going through my veins, my mind confused with everything that have happened two weeks ago. Uncertainty of what event would destroy or rebuild my heart. What would happen next ?. The future is unpredictable, so far that is a concept that now I understand. Considering the time spent in my country Colombia , vacations, friends, and parties were the words that stay on my mind for the first two weeks, otherwise the next two weeks were not what I planned. Firstable I was not supposed to be there for these last two weeks, but I am grateful. “No puedes viajar hoy” were the words asserted by the airline

Over the course of the semester, there has been numerous amount of areas where I believe I have improved in comparison to high school. What has helped me in my writing is the writing class and the in-class writing workshop. The writing class that is located in the Kremen education building has helped me with my writing greatly because in the writing center the person in charge teach us lenses and we apply those lenses to the writing, draft, or reading that someone brings in. The in-class writing workshop has helped me because other students get to read my writing. This is helpful because I get feedback from many students and they let me know what needs to be fixed. A new tool I have been using is They Say I Say. The book is very helpful because of the information and examples it provides such as the templates. I have been applying the templates into my essays and I have seen a significant difference.

Throughout the entirety of my story, I touch on topics discussed/read about in class. My story is a description of not only my journey to Machu Picchu, but my journey to self discovery and patience. The story suggests a struggle throughout the entirety of the journey. The idea of leaving the comfortable in order to experience a spiritual journey is a topic which we discussed in class. For a transformation to occur during a spiritual journey, one must leave the comfortable aspects of life, and be willing to enter the unknown, which I did. During my time seated at the edge of the rocks, I entered a dangerous state of mind; I thought about my grandma who had recently died, and how she impacted my life. That train of thought could have gone

It was a terrific morning by hitchhiking standards, and on any other day I would have reclined against the wheel hump with my feet propped up on the spare tire, basking in the joy of life. But that day, anxiety turned my stomach like a bad burrito. I had backpacked through Latin America before and while I’d eagerly snorkelled with sharks in Belize and tobogganed down a volcano in Nicaragua (they clocked me going 46 kilometres per hour), I had vetoed a trip to Mexico City on the grounds of it being much too frightening a place.