A Room Without A Door Continents away from the mythical, Tibetan paradise of Shangri-La sits the small room within which I found the utopia of my childhood. Existing now only in memories, it remains a faithful companion. Its remoteness once rivaled the Himalayas but instead of snowy peaks, gentle dunes and pastures protected its treasures. For along the coastal Uruguayan countryside, in a dirt-paved village named Shangrila, there stood a modest house that teemed with the branches of my family...

This is my Harvard essay: Spices and Eggplant Crescent moons beamed as hijabs and "western" suits struck a cosmopolitan harmony. I couldn't believe where I was: fourteen and countless shores from New England. Yet, there I sat, amid Baku's bustle, figuring out how to avoid another bite of eggplant. I'd politely take a few more forkfuls, of course, but my mind had started to wander. I wasn't sure if it was because of the eggplant or in spite of it....

It is my experience that, especially at my college, students are expected to not only know what they want to do when out of college, but what they want to do while at college....