As a child, my best friend and I used to love looking for four-leaf clovers in her backyard. Or perhaps more accurately, she loved looking for them. I never found a single one. Not one four-leaf clover during my entire childhood, so naturally I lost interest in the hunt after a few summers of playing leprechauns. I always thought Aly was luckier than I was because she found all of the clovers.

A few weeks ago, I found myself sprawled in the grass outside Royal Thimphu College in Bhutan, after a shockingly horrible workout, among a blanket of clovers. As I lay in the shade, the lush earth enveloping me and pillowing my head, I thought about those elusive four-leaf clovers. Before Bhutan, I never allowed myself to believe much in luck or fate or auspicious signs or anything that I couldn’t easily explain in a simple, rational way. The Bhutanese love luck and fate and auspicious signs. On that afternoon, I found seven four-leaf clovers. I felt luckier than I ever have.

People often say to me, “you are so lucky to be studying in Bhutan.” For many months I simply smiled and replied, “yes, I feel incredibly lucky to be here,” but as I handed out my seven lucky clovers to friends so that they too may share in my good fortune, I began to wonder how much luck had to do with my current situation.

It is true, very few people are able to travel to and explore Bhutan during their lifetime. Even fewer are able to spend more than a couple of weeks in this country. I am currently three months into a four and a half month stay in the Kingdom of the Thunder Dragon. This is my "study abroad."

I suppose I am lucky to be at a college where I am able to study outside of the country at all. And yes, I suppose it could be considered even luckier that Wheaton is one of the only schools in the world with a program in Bhutan. But is that really luck? In high school, I worked as hard as I could so that I would end up at a place like Wheaton where I would have such abundant opportunities. In college, I have continued to work hard and push myself to take risks and try new things. So no, I don't think my semester in Bhutan is sheer luck. It is the result of hard work and dedication on my part, but it is also a result of my privilege.

I grew up in a white upper middle-class family, with two loving and supportive parents, in suburban New Hampshire. I was given the opportunities and the resources to succeed from a young age. My parents, both of whom are college educated and have master's degrees, encouraged my education and creativity. They made sure I was challenged in school and from the time I started kindergarten, I was placed in “gifted” or “advanced” programs. My classmates whose parents were not able to advocate for them may have been just as smart or talented, but they were not placed in these programs. When I reached high school and the time came for me to start considering college, money, while it was a concern, was not a limiting factor. There was never a question of whether or not I would attend college. My parents and I knew that we would do whatever it took to get me to a great school where I could continue to succeed.

So thanks to my privilege of supportive family and enough income (and scholarships), I ended up at Wheaton and in turn, after a few years of diligent study, I ended up in Bhutan, at the Royal Thimphu College.

Most of the people I have encountered in Bhutan believe very strongly in luck and good fortune. It makes sense when considering the Buddhist philosophy of karma, which permeates so much of daily life here. For instance, when sharing drinks, no one touches his or her lips to a water bottle but instead "waterfalls" the liquid into their mouths. This is to prevent the mixing of two people’s luck and in turn negatively influencing a person’s karma.

Some of my Bhutanese friends will tell me quite regularly that I am very lucky—lucky to be in Bhutan, lucky to be born into the realm of humans and even luckier to be an American. But the luck they associate with me isn’t luck. What my Bhutanese friends are recognizing, but are not sure how best to articulate, is my privilege. As an American college student, I am able to study in Bhutan, and while I am here, I have had the opportunity, the privilege, to travel to cities and districts within the country that my friends who were born and raised in Bhutan have never laid eyes on. In Bhutan, I am incredibly wealthy compared to the majority of the nation. I can afford to do just about anything my heart desires whether this is skipping a week of class to travel to Bumthang or going out for an expensive dinner at the Korean BBQ.

When I was a child and my best friend found four-leaf clovers when I could not, she was lucky (or at least was more observant than me). Being in Bhutan could only be considered lucky if I had won a trip to the kingdom during a raffle competition. Money, status, and education are not symbols of luck, but rather signifiers of privilege.