Lessons from MMXIII
What have I learned this year?
Partially as a moral obligation to myself as the monumental day of the year closes in, I started penning my reflections of the year, silently and slowly, over the Christmas holidays. The question I always ask myself:
What have I learned this year?
I realized that it was important not to only come up with a laundry list of things I yearn for and/or expect of myself — while new year resolutions are an indispensable part of our way of celebrating the start of the new Georgian calendar year, it is also important to reflect on the previous year.
What did I do in 2013? That is the question.
I have grown to love Aarhus.
Aarhus: A home, no longer just a house
2013 marked the very first time in my life spending more than one solid year away from home. Today marked the 497th. Although moving away from home at a tender age of 12 to live in a boarding school in Singapore, the geographical proximity to Malaysia means that home is no further than a 5-hour bus ride, or a 45-minute plane flight away.
Moving to Denmark was a decision I made by myself, for myself. After being awarded a candidate PhD position with the University of Aarhus, I moved my earthy belongings 6000 miles across the globe. I was not a stranger to the city of Aarhus though, for spending 10 months cumulatively over the past two years in the city — as a starry-eyed exchange student and a frantic Bachelor student penning his graduating thesis.
Regardless of my previous stays in the city, the move is monumental in my life journey. It is the first time I have left the comfortable cultural enclave in Asia. It marked the first time moving to a society where I am no longer a member of a ethnic majority (well, Chinese are not exactly the ethnic majority in Malaysia, but we are the largest minority group). It symbolizes the distillation of my dreams, hopes and optimism of a future, by taking that somewhat blind leap into the unknown.
The long goodbye.
I knew a PhD is what I wanted. But was Denmark where I wanted to go? That was the question. The day when I hugged my parents goodbye at the local airport, my mom cried — for all the many goodbyes we have had in the past decade with me living a comfortable 500km away from them, goodbyes were routine and uneventful. I knew that in a few weeks’ time I would be home again.
But that particular goodbye was not. I was not sure when I will be home. My parents were unsure when they would see me in person again. It will happen, but the question of when was heart-wrenching.
Aarhus, a place I call home
After living in Aarhus for a straight 1 year 4 months, and a cumulative total of almost 2.5 years, I started to embrace the city. I reached out to people around me, gaining friends, not merely acquaintances, during my stay. I looked high and low for a place I feel comfortable to call home, and settled for a lovely apartment in the heart of Aarhus.
I became more socially involved in Aarhus. By chance I was roped in as a volunteer screen host for the Aarhus Film Festival — I enjoyed and revelled in that experience. Getting to meet likeminded individuals in the city who are interested in art and in elevating Aarhus’ status as a art capital of Scandinavia was one of the best thing I got out of volunteering for the film festival itself. Moreover, with the help of a friend, I was recruited to be part of the organizing team of Aarhus Pride 2014 — I can’t wait to see how it pans out in summer next year.
Having passed Danish level 1 proficiency and yet allowing myself to be lazy for a year, I have decided to sign up for more classes to resume my lessons in the upcoming year. I want to learn the language — despite it being known for its exceptionally challenging phonetics and pronunciation. I am tired and embarrassed by people’s need to use English in my presence. I want to speak Danish, properly.
I learned how to support the local economy
From visiting the annual Food Festival organized near the Aarhus harbour, to exercising the greatest restraint for not visiting the newly opened Starbucks in town (the first in Jylland, too!), I learned how to support the local economy and locally-produced goods. In my old bio, I wrote: “I keep Starbucks in business” — which was true, at least back when I was living in Singapore. Local coffee shops didn’t faze or entice me. With a Starbucks built right into the student activity centre of my alma mater and Singapore being home one of the highest Starbucks density around the world, it was hard to avoid it. Things changed after I started to live in Denmark, which was home to two (yes, two) Starbucks, both of which were located inside Copenhagen Airport.
Denmark had two Starbucks for a country of 5.5 million
It was hard. Not a single day passed without me dreaming of going bottoms up on a caramel frappuccino. I asked my fellow Danes how could they live without Starbucks. Without much of a second thought, they urged me to explore the local coffee shops. “Don’t you even dare to try Baresso,” one quipped.
I tried, and fell hopelessly in love with local coffee shops. They have an unresistable charm and quality in them — not to forget the more affordable price points, better customer service and properly-brewed coffee. Nothing gets better. Be it Langhoff & Juul just across the street from my apartment or Rub & Stub at the corner of Mejlgade and Graven, from the intricately designed interiors of La Cabra along Graven, book-filled interiors of Løves Bog og Vincafe ,to several branches of Sigfreds Kaffebar, voted best in town since 2007, Aarhus has one too many excellent coffee places to offer.
Tank (featured in photo above) has been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, but the owners promised it will resume operations as a cafe by August 2014. I do look forward to it opening its doors again.
My visit to the Aarhus Food Festival, which was only made possible with a spare free ticket that Dennis and Rasmus very kindly parted ways with, was an eye-opening one.
For once I get to interact with local and regional food producers and experts — be it Apple growers, bee keepers, pig breeders, fishermen or food scientists — and understand how much effort they have put into ensuring that their practices remain ecological and friendly, even in the process of putting food on increasing number of tables across the country.
I have also learned how to make poached eggs the right way; the difference between beef and cheval; how, in the eyes of a molecular gastronome, that strawberry sauce and coriander-mixed mashed potatoes or mustard with mint are appealing pair combinations.
I planned an European vacation for my parents
And yes, donning a pair of Converse on a snow-capped peak
is not exactly a bright idea.
My parents, after much coaxing from friends and family alike, finally decided that it was not fun hogging all their hard-earned income in a bank account that sits there collecting a miserable amount of interest — which might not even be a gain, considering the rate of inflation in Malaysia.
So, what better idea would be visiting their son, yours truly, who is living in Scandinavia and go on an insane 11-day 5-city trip?
From Eurail passes to accommodation arranged with the help of Airbnb, I single-handedly planned our vacation that will take us from home base Aarhus to Berlin, Interlaken, Paris, Amsterdam and finally Stockholm.
We had fun — in an adventurous sense, of course. Our trip were punctuated with highs and lows, from hopping onto the Jungfraubahn to arrive at the tallest train station in Europe, to desperately trying to get a working SIM card in the middle of a busy Berlin working day to be in touch with our Airbnb host (but we worked something out).
Learning how to make peace with my parents
After being away from home for so many years, my parents didn’t have to endure quite the full dosage of my adolescent angst in my rebellious years — however, that also translated into me being somewhat emotionally detached from my parents, compared to my brother, who has always lived close to them.
I wanted to learn how to live with my parents.
Fault lines re-emerged during our stay in Amsterdam, when mom was livid that the owner of the Airbnb apartment has a cat. We got into a major argument, where her complaints about cat furs around our private room clashed with my sheer exhaustion from planning the trip. It didn’t go down well. Tempers flared. Hurtful words were said.
However, towards the end of our vacation, I felt that we have made small, but important, steps towards understanding each other better, and learning how to live with each other, albeit for just a short duration of a few weeks.
My photography work stagnated
With the flurry of activities happening around me, my exploration in photography came to a grinding halt. I know, busy is a lousy excuse — if I had enough motivation and interest in photography, I would have forged ahead.
Since the day I got my first dSLR, every turn of the year marked the mastering of a new set of skills — be it panorama, infrared photography, HDR imagery, time lapse photography, post-processing workflow optimization and more. This year, however, I didn’t take too many photos, but when the opportunity arose, I try to live the moment.
Autumn farewell
Autumn was surprisingly mild in Aarhus this year — we did not have too much rain, and summer seemed to cling on despite the calendar and dropping daylight saving time.
The city came to live with a different colours. While the trees flourished and flowers blossomed in the very forgiving and warm summer this year — Denmark is not exactly famous for good summer weather — autumn is the season that brings us one step to the closure of the amazing streak of summer weather for 2013.
What’s more exciting than celebrating the season of yellow, orange and red with multiple trips around Aarhus? From a solo walked around Universitetsparken to an arrange photo safari trip with a friend, I tried the best, in my personal capacity, to capture the beauty of the Danish autumn.
Oh, and by living the moment, did I also mention that I tried to make the best out of the experience of being stranded on a roller coaster lift hill? It was the most unforgettable summer of the year — the gentle weather, trips to the beach, volleyball sessions at Strandbaren, and getting stuck on a roller coaster:
I dealt with the loss of a friend
Saying goodbye and letting go
were not as easy as I thought.
On the cold, misty spring morning of May 19th, I received an email from a friend. He’s something special to me — we met each other online a few years back, worked on a website project together, exchanged jabs and insults occasionally, and most of the time being honest and respectful towards each other.
His name is Sterling.
I have never met Sterling in person. He was fiercely private, such that he declined my sincere intention to send him postcards from Denmark. He was eloquently intelligent, such that he never had problem handing out beat-me-downs when he sees something unjust or offensive happening. He would engage in battles in ideology, theology, political views, sexuality, architecture, anthropology, art — for any topic you can think of, he had a good grasp of the basics.
The email went:
Hey Terry:
My cancer is probably going to kill before the year out. That’s the big secret I’ve be hiding from people. But, listen. I’m not tell you this because I want you to feel bad for me, seriously, I’m not. I’ve lived a really great life. Right now, I’m just going around tell people who I think are awesome, just how awesome I think they are. And you, Mr. Munn (sic.), are realy awesome. I wish you all the luck in the world and hope all is well in Denmrk.
XO
I cried, for days, actually. I replied, thanking him that he has decided to come forward with his health status. “I have a million questions racing through my mind right now”, I wrote, “But that’s not what I need to know.”
“How does the view from your room look like?” I probed. He sent me a photo of the scenic view from his ward, where the beautiful hills of Oahu, Hawaii rises in the distance. His reply that came with the photo was typical of him — funny, snarky and optimistic.
My room has a pretty good view. Yes, even in the hospital, I’m being spoiled. lol
Yet, two months down the road, the stage four cancer that he was diagnosed with, robbed us of a beautifully intelligent, fiercely independent and righteously brave soul. On July 28th, he passed with his family by his bedside.
I miss you, Sterling.
A part of me forever will. Sterling was the one who taught me to belief in myself. Although he was not the first to be enthralled by my intelligence, he showed me how it makes me unique and charming. For a person who have always battled with self-image and self-esteem issues, he made a whole world of difference in me.
The background photo of this section was created in the memory of Sterling, titled I cried a river for you. Taken in the depressing mornings after learning of Sterling’s death, I picked a photo that best expressed my sorrow and helplessness, and over it I superimposed a photo of a waterfall I snapped in Switzerland just months before.
Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others. Past and present. And by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.
See you on the other side, buddy.
I picked up writing
English was not exactly my first language — for my mom being a private Chinese language tutor for kids, I was exposed to Mandarin since I was born. I picked up English from my dad, who conversed sparingly in Mandarin and mostly in English with me, although my grasp of the language would be what many will describe as poor.
Moving to Singapore forced me to learn the language. However, it was not in university when proficiency in the language become prominent and essential. University was a huge melting pot — not only we get exposed to lecturers and professors hailing from different parts of the world, I also befriended several exchange students whose varied origins introduced me to a whole new world of English accents.
My English started to improve, but I was still reluctant to put it down in writing. As far as my academic writing grades go, my skills in scientific authorship were satisfactory. However, it was not exactly transferable. I need to master the beauty of the language, not just the utility of it.
It was a recent development when Medium authorship is no longer invite-only — everyone can write. Or at least, learn to do so and find their inner voice and yearning. I hastily signed, not knowing what stands ahead of me.
I found a new passion in writing — be it down right personal insights on daily life, social commentaries, and very technical articles — I fought to search, explore and define my voice. Although still in the process of finding one, I came to a gradual realization — that why should I restrict myself to a single voice?
Thank you, Medium, for inspiring us to write inspiring stories, thereby initiating a positive cycle of reflection, thought and enlightenment.
Goodbye, 2013.
So here I am, typing away in front of the computer. The clock says I am 26 minutes into the final day of 2013. How was 2013, I asked myself? It was eventful, fruitful — although sometimes painful and maddeningly frustrating.
I have learned so much about myself in the past year than any other year in my life. I guess that is a good start to the new year, don’t you think so?
Thank you, 2013. You’ve been a great teacher this year. And goodbye!
