sometimes I just don’t understand these Americans. They ask me how is it possible I’m Chinese and not Malay since I’m Malaysian. And it’s coming from an Indian American.
And touching upon immigration issues in Italy they say stuff like, “If they are living and working in Italy, why aren’t they Italians?”. Just the same way you live and study in Italy and are not Italian. And even if you migrated here for years, would you call yourself an Italian?
The more I see, the more I think,
the more I think, the more I learn,
the more I learn, the more I see.
My time in Italy is almost up. Between the time of my last post and this, I have had so many thoughts, reflections, inklings of complex things I wanted to share (to who?). But I let them pass as always, because in life I prefer to feel it out first before saying anything. Because if I interrupt and interject my ongoing feelings and experiences with thoughts then I end up under appreciating the moment instead. Then what would have been the point of that? My thoughts can come later..
With every new place I have stepped into I have needed to shed an old layer of skin to painfully grow a new layer. Some people say we should not be influenced so much by other cultures or people and risk forgetting our own. But I have never been such a huge advocate of my old culture anyways.. and as I progress maybe I will expand to include any other culture. Because I like different aspects of living of different cultures. Who I am.. what I am.. that’s a much larger and deeper answer than simply stating my roots and tracing my movements. Although, telling people that I’m a Malaysian Chinese (only of Chinese descent but not from China), studying in America for my undergrad education, and currently studying abroad in Italy can be a rather tedious but good starting point in trying to define my identity.
Point is… I want to find a way of life that suits ME. Not my country’s culture, religion (if I have one), peers, family members’ lifestyles and opinions. I mean ultimately I did grow up and live in that country (oh… it’s just that country that I call now?) for 19 years of my life, so it is inevitable that it remains the largest and most significant part of me that I have. But that does not mean I have to like every single part of that culture. I can choose to reject or transform parts of the culture to suit who I am and will continue developing into in the future. And this sits well for all the other cultures I have encountered in my very short 21 years of life.
I think it is important that people read. Very important that people read and travel. Much more important that people read, travel and think/feel. Most important that we should read, travel, think/feel, and compare.
Comparison is the basis of analysis. It’s what keep you thinking not just in a fixed manner that you usually do, but in a flexible, more multi-dimensional manner than you used to. Comparison is the link between:
As one can see, to me stepping out of your world really is a good thing, be it mentally or physically. But the ability to link them all together and begin to understand your own origins from the viewpoint of another (hopefully your new transformed self) is truly enlightening and frightening at the same time. But it is the most rewarding part of all. Because all of a sudden you see things about yourself, your peers or others that you have not seen before. And it gets you thinking.
That’s why I am adamant about the value of a liberal arts education. This education can come in many forms, be it school, readings, group discussion etc. But I personally did not truly understand the value of putting many thoughts, values, and cultures into conversation until I came across those things first hand in a country outside of my own. Because all of a sudden you see that it’s REAL. It doesn’t just exist in a faraway land like a fairytale or a nightmare. It is staring you right in your face, challenging you to understand it and befriend it.
That’s where things don’t quite match up doesn’t it…. traveling out of your world is a rich man’s/woman’s pleasure and treasure. That outside exposure is vital to any education and cultivation of the mind, and not everyone can afford it. And traveling once is never enough. Traveling forever is never quite enough.
In Italy, there is a law stating that all food served is fresh unless otherwise stated. Minimum fine from 16k euros onwards. Lol! If the rest of the world did as such so many people would be happier 
I wanted to a recap of my Spring Break, because it was special and important to me. It was probably the only real holiday I have had outside of tours with my parents, and to be honest was much more enjoyable without a tour. Organized by places and not dates because it is all a jumble in my head by now.
Barcelona
2nd time in this city and must admit that I enjoyed it a lot more. Highlights were Guell Park, The Magic Fountain, and The Olympic Center (the last time we visited Picasso Museum and Sagrada Familia). Guell Park was amazing and IMO a perfect place to get married (forget them beaches!). The Magic Fountain was truly magical and the museum right behind it…. omg. The Met just cannot compare. Also managed to take more looksies into the plazas in Barcelona and learn more about Catalunya, as well as the history and hostility between the Catalano and the Castigliano. Never knew Spanish was only the language of the Castigliano and not the Catalano in Barcelona.
Sevillia
My favorite Spanish city so far. Beautiful, isolated, and authentic. We watched a Flamenco show there. Can’t help but feel that Flamenco singing in particular has some Islamic influence. Also had the best sandwich of my life. Simple and good, as well as more delicious than italian panini IMO.
Valencia
Highlight of the trip was watching a real life bullfight. For only 24 euros (student price), we sat at the front row of the ring. There were 6 rounds, ie 6 bulls. Jesus…. I don’t think I want to watch another bullfight ever again – being in the front row means we saw everything, and I mean everything! =/ Also had the best fresh sardine of my life YUM
Madrid
Somehow, less students want to visit Madrid compared to Barcelona. But Madrid is also worth a visit! It has the Sofia as well as the Prado museum. Man oh man….. you will be so sick of art after those 2 lol. But seeing the Guernica alone was worth a visit to the Sofia. Was a good supplement to my knowledge of Picasso and his art after visiting the Picasso museum in Barcelona. FREE walking tour was also interesting. Got to know that the Philippines was named after King Philip the Second and that the phrase “No way Jose’” came about because the Spaniards did not want King Joseph (elder bro of Napoleon) to take over Spain. Joseph = Jose’ in Spanish. I like nerdy stuff like that.
Lisbon
Jeeesus. Did not expect this city to have so many places to visit. We managed to cover the main areas as well as Belem (portuguese custard tarts! Amazing with cinnamon =D ). But seriously… need to go back. Not to mention I had the best cheesecake in the world (suck it NY cheesecake) at a restaurant called Portugalia. Plus…. Portuguese guys are cute. Cuter than the Italians and the Spanish. No joke!! Even my Italian teacher agrees.
Additional notes: I like wine a lot. Especially Nero D’avallo from Sicily and Verdicchio wine from Marche. Lovely lovely stuff the Italians produce. They really know how to eat!
IMO there are 2 kinds of earthly worlds: The ones that make sense, and the ones that don’t. My country belongs to the latter.
In Malaysia, one is trapped in an illogical cage -
Oozing of polluting political corruption,
Of blinded literate people,
Of the saturated stench of nation-crippling words and thoughts,
Of the disdainful actions that follow through, a red blueprint
tainted with dotted lines
that join dotted lines of dotted dots -
barely visible yet clearly noticable:
This intricate design of twisted benign
popped in the oven and baked till it’s dry
forming my country crumble with only visible cries.
It’s a weird feeling to be back after a long journey. But back to where? And back from what? Was it really a journey, a travel, a tour, a visit, a dream… an illusion.
And yet it feels good to go away just a little bit further, for just a little bit longer,
savor a little more laughter, a little more sunlight, soft
through the window of my glasses.
When the heart stops yearning to ponder, everything seems much lighter.
You will always wish to go back, to go further,
for a lot more longer, for a lot more further,
for a lot more plaster.
When the heart stops learning to ponder, everything seems much brighter.
This short documentary is a portrait piece about Johnny Votta, who is known by many as The Timekeeper. Everyday at exactly two o’clock he aggressively commands the same intersection by belting out the time and ordering pedestrians and cars to stop and…
Have been in Firenze for about a week now. Been a good week Apart from checking out the obvious museums and history/scenic views the city has to offer tourists, have also been checking out night life in Firenze.
The most interesting experience so far is having aperitivi time, meaning you pay about 7-10 euros for any alcoholic beverage + buffet of food. Food could range from small finger food to pasta, meat and veggies. Awesome deal if you are on a tight budget but still want a night out with friends. Italians also have dinner really late. Their restaurants only open at 8pm sharp, so before that aperitivi are had with some light snacks. Or in a lot of peoples’ cases, it is apericena (apetitivo drink + dinner! =D )
Also had a chance to check out the Jersey Shore house, as well as the bar/club they went to on the show. Hahahaha! And I’m just getting used to getting around the city, the Duomo, and chasing the no. 25 bus from Piazza San Marco =)
I’m kinda psyched to leave for Italy =D
It’s been a wonderful and expensive 1 1/2 years here in NYC. Time to get culture shocked all over again.
I never thought getting stood up would feel this way - Enlightened and content.
Dejavu all over again. Different person different situation, but same situation same person.
The concept of a past. To get over something. To forget something or someone.
To me the present is always intermingled with a huge hint of the past and a small glimmer of the future. I mean, for example when someone really dear to you were to be “buried” in the past. How is that… possible? I just think if something or someone was significant in your life, they will always have a sliver of significance in your present whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. There will always be certain situations you cannot help think back to them and feel their absence/presence once more. And then you realize memories are the most beautiful things you could ever have, because you can choose to alter them, distort them, push them back to recall at another time or create memories that never happened in reality.
Memories are like a diary of your life, a story book of collected treasures and torments. And to think my whole being and my whole concept of a self boils down to my thoughts. These thoughts that were never concrete in the first place. And the more I feel the more I put in. Because we’re all just adrenaline junkies. Looking for excitement and memories and people and places and…… then. we replay them to ourselves over and over again. Fiction and facts all rolled into one. I forgot who said this, but I recall someone telling me that we all need stories to survive. And I never understood that claim, because what about all the super logical and rational people who don’t need fiction in their lives and only need to “live in the present”. But there really isn’t a non-fiction in our lives is there?
And I cannot believe how asleep I had been before I started loving someone. It’s like… being unplugged from the freaking Matrix. Or just from peaceful slumber (because Love is not at all non-violent). How is it possible that this one single emotion awakened me to everything else in life? Even though it is unfathomable. How it is possible for love to feel like a melody brewing from your heart and flowing into your mind and your whole essence, that is a mystery. The biological working in our body when love strikes, you can analyze with science, but when one is put into the situation of being in love (that’s right, you are put there and you have no choice), what more is there really to do, but to perform faith? Either faith in the other, or yourself, or the very idea of Love existing.
Faith–complete trust that something exists even if there is no proof.
God, Love, Myself. All these things require faith to exist. The last one I have no complete trust in but nonetheless I try. Actually, God too. But someone once quoted to me that believing in God is such a Romantic notion. And yes, I guess so. For millions and millions in the world, who most claim to be logical and rational. All choosing to have faith in the idea of a higher being without true proof. We would be in denial to say we do.
And for Love… I would rather be blinded in full delusional rapture than choose to believe it does not exist.
