Growing up as a musician, I threw countless hours into practicing guitar and singing, and yet the possibility of forgetting a chord or lyric on stage always haunted me. Every time I battled with my anxiety backstage, considering the last-minute decision to quit, I yearned for a life where unpredictability does not exist in those important moments.

The summer before my first year of boarding school, I found out that Juan, a sophomore from Colombia, was randomly assigned as my roommate. Given the innumerable possibilities of personality and lifestyle, I was anxious to see if we would get along. I dreaded that we would be unable to connect due to our distinct cultural backgrounds.

One night, an intense homesickness drove me to unpack some egg rolls I had brought from China. I encouraged Juan to try one. After a tentative first bite, his eyes opened wide, his head nodded, and a large smile emerged.

He pointed at the tiny egg roll and marveled, “That is amazing! How did I miss this thing my entire life!”

His exaggerated response catapulted me into laughter, and his pure satisfaction cured my yearning for the streets of Shanghai, where I used to spend every Sunday afternoon jogging by the HuangPu River and watching the sunset. Instead, in the blink of an eye, there was one empty box and two new friends.

After introducing Juan to hotpot, dim sum, fried rice, and more Chinese cuisine, he brought me to savor the charm of squash. Juan, a U.S. Junior Open Champion, was patient enough to teach me, a novice, the swinging patterns of the racket, the fundamentals of movement, and game tactics. A sport that I had barely heard of in China opened up to me. I fell in love with it and spent countless hours on the court striving to implement Juan’s teachings.

To this day, Juan and I still wonder if our life paths would have intersected if we had not been assigned as roommates. My friendship with Juan has empowered me to believe that I will encounter more people and circumstances that I cannot anticipate or control.

One Friday night, driven by immense hunger, I snuck into the kitchen and threw leftovers from the fridge into a pot of simmering noodle soup. Feeling inspired by my unusually rebellious spirit, I mixed and matched some soy sauce, vinegar, and chili oil, garnished my dish with thinly sliced scallions, and the result was the best ramen I had ever tasted.