Sunday, June 17, 2018

Get Grounded

“So why do you choose to walk instead of other means?” Sitting opposite of a psychologist, I got a bit curious myself when I heard the question come my way. So why exactly do I choose to walk everywhere whenever possible?

A bit of context would be helpful I suppose. Well, let's go back a few steps on the therapist part since it is rather personal and revealing. Recently I have been shopping for a psychologist here in the Netherlands. I have always found therapy a great coping mechanism, working for me for more than a decade in different countries. I am proud of it as I am of my occasional yoga and jogging. And this time around, to better cope with moving, job, love, loss, you know, all the bitter sweet things having to do with life in a new chapter. By the way, I am happy to discuss mental health any day, just like happy to discuss physical health, and spiritual health while we are on that subject. Health needs to be discussed, otherwise we end up collectively gaining more and more mental dead weight – that is not healthy. Anyway, I digress. 

So I told the therapist that since about a year ago I made a conscious choice of walking everywhere whenever I can. Well, if you want to know the definition of “I can”, it is about 45 min walking distance according to Google Map estimate. Yes, those are the sort of hard lines I draw in life. :) So why do I choose to walk? Primarily it has to do with being active. Your whole body is engaged in a fairly low impact but slow burning gear. There was a study showing the Masai’s from Kenya shares this type of physical exercise pattern with their herding routines, walking with cattle all day long. High-impact sports are good, but it is only one side of coin, isn’t it? And the other side can’t be just sitting in front of computer, on a couch, on a bike or in a train, so walking seems a reasonable choice.

Our Swedish visitors, Pernilla and Maddy were good sports, walked in a straight line following our leader. 
That and I also find walking surprisingly relaxing. There is actually opportunity to stretch neck around and look around at all the interesting buildings, trees and people. Adding a bit of slower and duller moments in busy days is surprisingly soothing. If I know I have to walk for 45 minutes, I will make sure to make time for it and enjoy the walk with listening to podcast or just looking around at random things. Q and I try to take a stroll in our neighborhood in the evening whenever possible (could always do more), discovering the city taking on a different look (you really have to see it for yourself in Haarlem to experience it), listening to the evening church bells beckoning wanderers to go home, enjoying the pace of the city slowing down and thoughts winding down. Walking is as inspiring in the morning as it is rejuvenating in the evening.

Strolling in Lisbon with Sara & Q
So back in the chair across from the therapist. Why do I walk? There is something deeper. Both the therapist and I fell silent. We both chewed on it for a moment because we both sensed its significance, but can't quite put our fingers on it. To the credit of the €150 I paid the therapist, he came up with this answer out of nowhere, “you become more grounded this way”. Yes, that is it! I love connecting to earth. Same reason as doing yoga and jogging and hiking, to connect with the nature and to be grounded.

If we look at this in a broader sense, as we continuously move into cities (urbanization), the cities become denser and higher (densification), our environment is changing, and I am not sure if it is for the better. As we spend more and more time in various boxes that we build for ourselves, buildings, cars, buses and trains, the bigger environment becomes more of a nuance that we want to bypass or speed through as quickly as possible in name of efficiency. A bit like taking water out of natural juice to make it into concentrated version. Well, I am here to argue that water is important – and hopefully we can all agree to that. So why less rushing and add some of the water back to our busy life. Walk more is a great way to be connected to our environment, to breathe easier, and to smile. 

With my teacher during my Dutch immersion week last June
When I left the therapist’s office that evening, I can tell you there was an extra spring to my steps as I walked home. To be grounded is a meaningful way of life. Join me. Join us. 

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We invite you to make a virtual walk together on Saturday 7 July (+/- days) to join me and Q in celebrating our birthdays together. 

You choose how long – 5 minutes, 30 minutes, 2 hours, whatever you like. You choose where, in your neighborhood, in a park, through a market, wherever you like, okay, maybe shopping malls are not my top choices. You choose how: do it alone and enjoy solidarity, or invite your family and friends and make it an outing. Please remember to take a photo and share it with us. It would be the best birthday gifts we can ask for of our family and friends. Let's get grounded together.  

From last year's annual birthday hike - inspired by Marie and Tadeáš!

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

What we carry on the bike (or: a note to self) - a video

On our Big Trip we carried everything we needed during the 14 months of our trip on the bike. We carried everything from clothes, small rations, cooking and camping gear to some spare parts and tools to fix the bike along the way. We were self-reliant and that meant that we were free to roam wherever our bike took us.

Fixing a tire in Iran - glad to have the tools and spare tire!
As happens to all overlanders, we brought too much to begin with. It took a bit to trim the amount of stuff we brought, but we have the process pretty streamlined now. Our (little) house is packed with a quite a few items, as those of you who have visited us know. So to reduce the contents of our house to just the space on the motorcycle (our House on the trip, or 'Casa', as we call her) is a liberating experience. Let me explain, we never brought souvenirs, because they take up space. Instead we sought to enjoy every place we visited and, at most, took pictures to remind us of it. This makes that you don't have to think 'should I buy that beautiful touristy trinket', we just don't, we don't have space. It makes life very simple, all your belongings we had with us and we had nothing else to worry about (well, almost, at least).

Ok, I cheated a bit. Instead of souvenirs I shopped for parts for the bike instead. Brake pads in one place, tires in another, exhaust pipe guards from Argentina (a gift, even)! But those were... ahum... functional at least! But back to the point. The only things we really ended up missing which we couldn't bring were the art we have in our house and our bed. And halfway during the trip I treated myself to a small but good kitchen knife.
Casa found a shelter in Lithuania
Last year was the first time since the Big Trip that we traveled with all our kit on the bike again and it took some jogging of our memory to figure out what (not!) to bring. So after the 3-week trip we decided to shoot a few videos outlining what we carry on a trip.

Click here to view the video if it doesn't load

It mainly delves into the overal details, how much capacity we had, which products we chose and what we carried and where. We shot some other videos that go more into detail of the actual contents of the bike, those I might post at another time.

One could see this video mainly for ourselves in preparation for our next trip, but I know others might be interested as well to see how we did it.

Monday, September 5, 2016

Moments of Cultural Shock - Today's Edition

I have been in Kenya for TWO MONTHS now - woohoo! The occasion is sure worth a celebration in the form of a blog posting, don't you think? But hmm, I am still finding things quite overwhelming here. Where do I start? It doesn't take a doctor to see that I am still having a major case of cultural shock.

How about I start with today's Daily Nation, which is one of the most popular national newspaper. I am gonna skip the headline news of raging corruptions and political turmoils, and go straight to what I consider as "hidden gems" that I find very educational:

#1: Number of motorcyclists who were killed in accidents this year so far: 349! A whopping 30% increase from last year. Maybe it is the motorcycle connection inside me that really felt the pain, but this was just mentioned briefly in one of the page corners. Really?! 

#2: 21 percent of Kenyan women/girls have "undergone" genital mutilation in the name of "rite of passage" according to this report. Wow.


#3: The "Dear Abby" equivalent column has a letter that starts with "Hi, I'm a 30 years old and married to a strange woman". You know that's a fun read with that start!! Well, funny enough this is the only article I can find available online when I searched through Daily Nation's website.

Okay, now let's get to the random conversations with my colleagues today.
#1: They concluded that I was "very very lucky" not to be mugged when I walked to town (just over an hour) over the weekend. To be fair, I took only major roads and it was 8 or 9 in the morning. The only thing they can deduct from my experience is that I looked like I know kongfu with my shades on, and my look was the only thing that deterred the thugs from messing with me. Ha, take that, Jackie Chan! Before you get worried, my colleagues made me promise that I would avoid doing this in the future.
From my walk to town. To the right is the Nairobi River. To the left you see, hey, other pedestrians, okay, they are not muzungus.
#2: Just to stress the security risk, a colleague mentioned that while she was driving in her car and was moving slowly in traffic, both side mirrors were snatched by street thugs. She couldn't do anything but watch them go off snatching other car's mirrors. Well, she said she could go to one of the well-known roads where they sell parts - with some luck, she might just be able to spot her mirrors there if her car has "car identity", i.e. all the parts have the vehicle license number printed over them

#3: For lunch today, I treated myself to a local fast food place called Big Square, The "muzungu" (foreigner) in me was very happy - nice juicy and tasty burger with fresh avocado, bacon and lettuce. In fact I was so happy that I didn't care to clean my hands from the mess and take a food photo - that is how good it was! Don't worry, Q, it is already on your visit itinerary.

Finally, we came home after work to a response left by our cleaning lady on the kitchen counter. Yes, we have a cleaning lady who comes in once a week to wash our clothes since there is no washing machine in the apartment like many others. A bit background on the note, previously we have had sms and phone call exchanges with the cleaner, but in the recent weeks, we couldn't reach her by phone, so we left her a note this morning before leaving for work. Anywhere, click to read her response:

And yep, all these moments of cultural shock are from today. To my Kenyan friends, I may look very calm on the surface, but deep down I am paddling really hard in my prolonged cultural shock. In reflection, my only saving grace is that I am not really freaked out by the cultural shock, but rather just taking them as they come, and maybe enjoying them to a great degree. I am just a bit surprised that after two months of intense cultural shock, I am still not out of the deep end yet. Not sure if I am making any sense. If I don't, you know that is the effect of cultural shock. That or I need to get sleep for another day of cultural shock. :)

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

The Soap Dispenser: My First Report from Kenya

Two weeks. For two weeks every day, I was mocked silently by the soap dispenser in the work bathroom.

It is one of those pumps that dispense soapy foam on your palm when you press on it. Day one. I pressed on the soap dispenser and nothing came out. Okay, odd, but no worries, I am sure it would work the next day. A second day, a second try: I pressed and nothing came out. More days, some more presses and some more disappointment. Soon I became convinced that the soap dispenser was simply empty and left empty.

Or so I thought.

The soap dispenser mocks me every day.
After all, it was not the first time since I arrived in Kenya that I have experienced the uniqueness of Kenyan work protocol - I learnt quickly that you cannot just expect your request would be responded after initial request. You have to follow up. In fact, over and over, and then some more. And if you are lucky you may get the right person after what seems to be never-ending phone calls and office visits over the smallest things.

In the case of the soap dispenser, I made up my mind to have a friendly chat with the cleaning lady. Even if the rest of Kenya has varying degree of clean/untidy public bathrooms, c'mon people, this is an UN office, and we've gotta uphold some standards, y'all! You can probably imagine my sense of righteousness when I ran into the cleaning lady in the bathroom, Finally. "Uhm, excuse me. The soap dispenser is empty."

Upon my gesture, the cleaning lady reached over the dispenser and opened it up - it was half full. "There is", she said. I looked at the dispenser and then at her as if I just saw a Las Vegas magic show, "But look, I press on it and nothing comes out." I showed her my empty palm.

"Ah," the lady reached over to demonstrate for me, "You have to use a lot of energy." A few hearty power-presses later, a small pile of soapy foam appeared on her palm.

As the cleaning lady casually rinsed off the soap and carried on her way, I was left dumbfounded in the bathroom and then I burst out laughing. "You have to use a lot of energy." The sentence encapsulated the essence of my experience in Kenya so far. From negotiating prices for a mango or pineapple with fruit vendors, to practically staging a protest in the IT office before getting a work login ID, to trying to track down a handyman to schedule a visit, to waiting for the taxi rides that are always late, to trying to open a bank account and not getting any responses, to subsequently cancelling the account opening process after weeks of not getting anywhere. Just about everything in Kenya demands so much more energy. "You have to use a lot of energy", as the cleaning lady taught me. I guess this is the culture shock that I had expected.
Lining up for a matatu (mini-bus) ride.
Don't worry though - I am actually doing really well under the circumstances and in a way, loving the challenges. But as you can imagine, it is all quite exhausting, and it is no wonder I get so tired at the end of the day. After all, I will need all the sleep I can get to wake up with "a lot of energy" - to keep pressing those soap dispensers here in Kenya. :)

The walking path is between an electrical fence and bushes and fenced walls. It is beautiful if I let myself relax enough.
p.s. To all our friends and family for your lovely and encouraging emails from my last post, sorry that I haven't been able to response to them, but I promise I will do so soon. Your support means the world to me. Really. Thank you! :)

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

The Next Six Months

By the time you read this, Q and I will probably have been long gone from this beautiful country Lithuania - two weeks go by very quickly when there are so many trees to admire, storks to count and mosquitoes to feed. Upon returning to Sweden, we will be in the heat of packing up our apartment, and away for at least the next six months. I know, after only living two years in Sweden, this sounds either completely out-of-the-blue or like a lot of bull. Trust me, the idea hasn't quite completely sunk in with me yet, and I hope it will a little more by the time I finish typing and sharing this with you. So here it goes.
In Aukštaitijos National Park, Lithuania

Kenya, here I come!

To continue my master's study I have decided to take on an internship as a credited course, working with the World Food Programme Kenya country office to increase disaster preparedness capacity of some selected counties (more on this in future blog postings). So why Kenya?

Okay, let's get these out of the way first. The following are NOT the reasons why I am going to Kenya:
  • To change the world. Or to save the world. Or whatever glory and pride one may associate with jobs of this nature. (For that matter, or to convince any non-believers that climate change is happening and our energy habits have either directly caused it or indirectly contributed to it. But more on that later.) 
  • To run away from Q. As some of you may know, Q has been working in Ireland pretty much since my study began last fall, and I can assure you it is not fun, so living apart for the next few months will be difficult. Yikes.
  • Driving on the left (read: wrong) side of the roads. Who knew?!
  • I am clueless with my life,
Okay, that helps me come to some of the reasons why I am going to Kenya:
  • Respect. Respect for myself, respect for others/ourselves, respect for the planet we live on. This is the key reason and I will discuss more below.
  • Because working with the United Nations sounds cool, okay? Yes, even if that means as an intern - I am that shallow. 
  • I want to know how it is to work and live in Kenya. After China, Canada, UAE and Sweden, Africa would be a new continent for me to live in. As Q pointed out in dismay, "That is one more than me!" That really is the extent of my ambition and competitiveness, everyone. :) 
  • I am clueless with my life. Okay, maybe not completely, but just enough to keep my curiosity going.
In Aukštaitijos National Park, Lithuania  

On Respect

So this is the part that will sound like a lot of bull to some of you, but heck, I have been sitting on it for so long it is time that I come clean about it. Feel free to skip if you think Q is more interesting to read about. :)

Respect for myself. Life is too short for boredom. I guess I am a bit of experience junkie in some ways and working in Kenya sounds very exciting, don't you think?! On the other hand, international development projects can be quite daunting to someone who has mostly worked in private sectors. I am not naive: Kenya is very different and the public sector is a different beast. But I know if anyone can do this, it is me. :) It will be a very worthwhile way of spending part of my life. 

Respect for others/ourselves. Many of you have inspired me in the past. Looking back, what I appreciate most about those experiences are the differences in opinions and perspectives. The past year's study at Lund University highlights this even more to me. For example, you may know that I am not the world's most patient person (the world's most understated comment BTW), and I noticed having more respect was a key for having more patience and enjoying life better. I see Kenya as a good opportunity for this as I expect to be exposed to a wide array of differences, and I will try my best to remember to always bear respect and patience for others and ourselves. (Hmm, not sure if my logic makes complete sense, but I hope you get my drift.)

Respect for the planet Earth. Here is the key connection between disaster risk reduction work and the planet earth I hope to achieve: less disaster risk -> less disaster destruction -> less loss/consumption to respond and recover to disasters > more sustainable planet. If this doesn't make sense, don't worry, I promise to add my voice to this in future postings.

What about Q?

I swear I feel like I am Q's personal assistant in the past year answering questions like "Where is Q?"or "How is Q?" or "What about Q?". Okay, fine, I guess if that is what marriage means, oh well. Right, where am I? Hey, I didn't say that I am an effective PA. 

So as for Q, he is heading in the same direction - by that, I mean in a literal sense - due south, but a lot not far from Sweden. Q will live in Amsterdam and reconnect with his roots. Having returned to Toronto once before, I feel slightly qualified to assess the situation, and call it no less challenging than my journey. But something tells me that Q will enjoy every bit of it.

In Dzūkija National Park, Lithuania

Can we look further beyond the six months?

Maybe, but I would rather not - the possibilities are too many and my head is not big enough for it. Beyond the six months, your guess of our whereabouts is as good as mine. So let's not go there yet and just sit back and enjoy the packing, yeah?

Oh, did I mention we leave for Kenya/Holland in a week?! Do wish us good luck! :)

(Video link if the above video does not load properly)

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Unfamiliar feelings

If you met me in the past few weeks/months, sorry to tell you this, but most likely I was feeling constipated. Both mentally and okay, occasionally, literally. This little too much information was disclosed for a reason. It is why I haven't blogged for a very long time. Until now.

My lack of blogging probably bothered very few people, except Brian (Hello, Peterborough!). But it bothered me. It took me a very long time to figure out why I was so blocked. Yesterday it finally came to me when I sat down after a refreshing morning run... There has been a lot of unfamiliar feelings. That is why. The much-needed realization allows me to write this update to you. It is about time.

Back in May, Q and I flew to Cape Town, South Africa to attend our friend Gee's wedding. Yes, take note: we only befriend people with funny names like our own. It was my first time in Africa - allow me to ignorantly broaden this to the entire continent - and I was thrown into the deep end. With two warm and loving local families - I/we loved it! But staying with families also means deep in someone else's hair: we took a lot of effort to be good guests and adjusted to different family cultures. I managed to go for some runs while staying with Danielle and her adorable girls. It was a fenced-off golf course community living outside Cape Town. It was so deafening quiet at night that I got frightened from the automated sparklers going off. I am a little hesitant to use the South African expression here, but that is just my Canadian politically correct side freaking out: it was a "white" community.


Then we moved to stay with Gee's brother-in-law family, Deon and Karen, in Cape Town. It was a "colored" community. I was told not to run in the neighborhood. It was "a little risky". I don't want to come off as a racist, and you know I am not one. I only bring in the race topic because it is really a matter of fact in South Africa. In fact, it is in your face so much so that it would be wrong for me not to mention it. Read about colored in Wikipedia. I know many Americans and Canadians would most likely feel a bit uneasy with this topic - I know I was, but luckily the family adopted us into theirs with open arms, and that helped make me feel more at ease. The video below is me trying very badly to imitate Capetonian gangster walk and talk - thanks Brian (different Brian) for leading me. Again, I don't want to offend anyone, particularly not the Capetonian gangsters, with my silliness.


In June I was in China. I spent five weeks with my relatives. It was my first time in life spending so much time with my extended family alone, i.e. without parents or spouse. Just me. The dynamics was very tricky and rewarding. There was more interactions and I got to know my relatives much more and better. It was exactly what I needed and wanted, although very stuffy and overwhelming at times if you know what I mean.


University started in end of August, and of course it was easy since I have been away from university for only some 13 years... Not! Academic reading and writing was a tough learning curve for me. It still is, but it is getting better. There are 22 other individuals in the programme with 13 different nationalities - think many younger and more dynamic versions of me.

Group "sitting" (university campus dinner)

In October (this was previously incorrectly indicated as "November", my apologies) my father-in-law Bart passed away peacefully at his own home. He was surrounded by lots of love. In Bart's own words, he was "a Sunday's child". If you have to look up in a dictionary to see what the expression means - he got you and is probably gloating about it somewhere high above. It is a little too personal to discuss more at this point. A very unfamiliar feeling and I haven't got my head and heart around it yet.

Bart's study - very Bartish

Phew, so many unfamiliar feelings this year. Knowing me/us, we will likely continue having many changes and challenges. You see how I dropped running along the way as the cold and wet winter descended in Sweden. I recognize now that it is one of the easiest cures for constipation. My goal is to make plenty of runs in the new year and years to come. The number of blog postings will tell if I succeed or not. But what I loved about it is that I/we had the support and companion of all those we love - from Gee and Ali in Cape Town, to my cousins in China, to the pamily in Den Haag. We come together. Thank you.

Anyway the time now is 9 AM and it is time for a run. We wish you a Happy, not constipated,  2016!

So nice to have visitors especially family! :)

Sunday, August 16, 2015

A Swedish Vacation and a Swedish Essay

Q and I took at a Swedish vacation during the past three weeks. What's a Swedish vacation, you ask? It means taking a summer course studying Swedish while living in a boarding school - yes, here in Sweden. We got to study Swedish language, watch Swedish movies, have Swedish conversations, eat Swedish food, meet Swedish residents... basically doing a lot of Swedish things. Okay, I know it sounds a bit overwhelming, but the course was super nerdy and cool - I loved it! (And Q survived his as well. At least I believe so. :)

My roommate Markella from Athens and I

For my class, each of the students were asked to write an essay on the topic of Mitt möte med Sverige (My meeting with Sweden) to enter a contest by Riksföreningen Sverigekontakt (National Society Sweden Contact), the hosting organizing agency. Guess who won? :) Actually I had a real hard time at first, but luckily I got inspired, and in the end I was very proud of what I came up with... Naturally now even more proud since it would get published in the organization's September magazine. So before my head gets any bigger, here it is. It is in Swedish first, then translated into English. I feel it is important to translate it instead of rewriting it because it is a better reflection of my Swedish train of thoughts, which seems to be still very wobbly, but it is getting there...

Me with my teacher and organization representative - I got three Swedish books as my prize - woohoo!

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Stigen upp för berget

Medan jag klättrade upp för det lilla berget mittemot Billströmska Folkhögskolan kunde jag inte låta bli att undra hur jag exakt hade kommit hit. Kanske planerades min utflykt när jag kom från Malmö för två veckor sedan? Eller kanske min kurs planerades när min man hittade ett jobb i det här gamla och vackra landet? Just det. Kanske mitt möte med Sverige planerades när jag träffade min man, en holländsk, i Kuba för flera år sedan. Det är precis hur jag, en kinesisk kanadensiska, hittade mig själv i mitten av Sverige, precis som livet har planerat. Livet rör sig på ett hemlighetsfullt sätt, eller hur?
Det var en fin och bekväm sommarkväll. Solen sken och en bris blåste längs stigen. Det kändes lätt – jag skulle orka det utan mycket kraft, tänkte jag. Det påminnande mig om mina första veckor i landet förra året för att min man hade varit i Sverige i flera månader och allting arrangerades. Det skulle vara en lycklig semester för mig.

Men snart tog jag en fel väg och stigen försvann under mina fötter – ”Oj”! Jag kom ihåg tillfället när vi förlorade vårt bostadskontrakt och var tvungna att hitta en annan plats om bara en månad. Vilken oro och ångest! Svårt var det att hitta någon som inte var på semester i augusti, för att inte tala om hur vi lärde oss att göra allting på svenska, ett helt nytt språk för oss. Vem visste att man kunde kolla på Blocket så ofta som man kunde fika?! Det var nog som hur jag försökte att hitta min egen stig nu bland taggiga buskar och hala stenar.

Jag svär att berget verkade mycket lägre från mitt rum tidigare. Det mumlade jag till mig själv när plötsligt halkade jag på en klippa, ”Ai!”. Vilken tur att jag var oskadad. Pust! Det var lite pinsamt, men inte så mycket som de oerhört många gånger när jag talade svenska fel. En dag i mitt bostadshus försökte jag hjälpa en pojke som bar många påsar. Han såg förvirrad ut medan jag sa,”kan jag hjelpe dig?” och ännu mer när jag repeterade tre eller fyra gånger. Stackars pojke – även nu springer han snabbt iväg efter han vinkar till mig.

Stigen blev svårare och jag blev väldigt svettig och smutsig. Det tog mycket mer tid än jag förväntade. Som att plugga svenska. Tålamod måste man ha enligt några kompisar, ”Det tar tid.” Det slog mig att ge upp. Varför inte? Många andra hade gjort det. Men det är inte ett alternativ, inte ett bra alternativ i alla fall. Ansträngning krävs det om jag vill bli en riktig del av samhället och inte bara en fluga på väggen. Jag var bestämd att fortsätta klättra upp, ett steg i tåget, precis som hur jag kan lära mig svenska – ett ord i tåget. Det ska hjälpa mig.

När jag äntligen var framme hittade jag en otroligt vacker utsikt på toppen av en stor vit sten. Skolbyggnadens röda tak skimmade och skärgården glittrade i havet långt borta. Ensam var jag men jag kände mig inte ensam. För jag visste att många människor hade hjälpt att bygga stigen som hjälpte mig komma hit. För jag visste också att många mer hade kommit och ska komma hit. Det känns skönt att veta att jag är, som vi är, inte ensam i våra vandringar upp för berget.

Missförstå mig inte – jag älskar att cykla runt landets platta cykelvägar, men vilken fri och öppen känsla här på toppen! Det är ganska fantastiskt med tanke på att jag inte hade kommit upp så högt. ”Om du ska studera på ett internationellt program på engelska”, många hade frågat mig, ”varför vill du lära dig svenska?” Svaret låg precis framför mig – att se mer och se ytterligare. 

När jag kom ner såg jag en gul skylt, ”Här uppe är ett berg med vackra mönster.” Men jag vet att det inte var det viktigaste att nå bergstoppen. Syftet är att hitta våra egna stigar. Syftet är att bli bättre och starkare människor genom våra upplevelser. Oavsett hur jag kom hit ska jag fortsätta klättra stigen upp för berget. Vill du gå med?


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The path up the hill

While I climbed the small hill opposite of the Billströmska Folk High School, I could not help but wonder how I exactly had come here. Maybe my excursion was planned when I came from Malmö two weeks ago? Or maybe my language course was planned when my husband found a job in this ancient and beautiful land? Right. Perhaps my meeting with Sweden was planned when I met my husband, a Dutch man, in Cuba several years ago. That's exactly how I, a Chinese Canadian woman, found myself in the middle of Sweden, just like life has planned. Life moves in a mysterious way, doesn't it?

It was a nice and comfortable summer evening. The sun was shining and a breeze blew along the trail. It felt easy - I could manage it without much effort, I thought. It reminded me of my first weeks in the country last year because my husband had been in Sweden for several months, and everything was arranged. It would be an happy holiday for me.

But soon I took a wrong turn and the trail disappeared under my feet - "Damn!" I remembered the moment when we lost our apartment contract and had to find another place within only a month. Oh, the anxiety! It was difficult to find someone who was not on vacation in August, not to mention how we learned to do everything in Swedish, a whole new language for us. Who knew you could check the housing website as often as you can drink coffee (N.B. Swedes drink a lot of coffee.)?! It was probably like how I tried to find my own path now among thorny bushes and slippery rocks.

I swear that the hill seemed much lower from my room earlier. I mumbled it to myself when suddenly I slipped on a rock, "Ouch!". Luckily I was unhurt. Phew! It was a bit embarrassing, but not as much as the incredibly many times when I spoke Swedish incorrectly. One day at my apartment building, I tried to help a boy who was carrying many bags. He looked confused while I said, "Can I hilp you?" And even more when I repeated three or four times. Poor boy - even now he runs away quickly after he waves to me.

The path was difficult and I was getting very sweaty and dirty. It took much more time than I expected. As for studying Swedish. One must have patience, according to some friends, "It takes time." It occurred to me to give up. Why not? Many others had done it. But it is not an option, not a good option anyway. It is required effort if I want to become a real part of society and not just a fly on the wall. I was determined to continue to climb, step by step, just like how I can learn Swedish - a word at a time. It'll help me.

When I finally arrived, I found an incredibly beautiful view on top of a large white stone. The school building's red roofs shimmered and the archipelago glistened in the sea far away. I was alone, but I did not feel lonely. For I knew that many people had helped to build the path that helped me get here. For I also knew that many more had come and will come here. It feels good to know that I am, just like we are, not alone in our paths up the hill.

Do not get me wrong - I love biking around the country side's flat bike paths, but what a free and open feeling here at the hill top! That's pretty amazing considering that I had not come up very high. "If you will study in an international program in English," many had asked me, "why do you want to learn Swedish?" The answer lay right in front of me - to see more and see further.

When I came down I saw a yellow sign, "Up here is a mountain with beautiful pattern." But I know it was not that important to reach the mountain top. The aim is to find our own paths. The aim is to become better and stronger people through our experiences. No matter how I get here, I'll continue to climb the trail up the mountain. Do you want to join?

Me on the hill top

Monday, March 9, 2015

Speaking (a tiny little) Swedish on Radio!

Speaking of challenges... I am organizing an open house for the Malmö Toastmasters Club, and our PR team did a fantastic job reaching out to the local media outlets. As a result, another club member, Magnus Andersson, and I were given an interview opportunity on the Sveriges Radio (SR) P4 Malmöhus radio station!



It was particularly challenging for me because the interview was mostly conducted in Swedish. In addition, it was live broadcasting, and there was no script! Luckily Magnus did most of the weightlifting - God, he has a gorgeous voice! I understood the conversation somewhat, and actually attempted to speak a little Swedish here and there, and that was nerve-wracking. My head was looping something like this in the first couple of minutes, "Ahhh! *Need to calm down otherwise you won't understand anything.* Ahhhhh!Check out the SR article and audio here!

They say be careful of what you wish for, eh? It is so true. :)

Friday, March 6, 2015

"It is F!@&ING challenging!"

"So how do you enjoy life in Sweden?" I remember when the curious question came up from one of Q's friends at a casual Christmas gathering (sans Q, of course). By then I was already midway into my visit in Holland, so admittedly I got a little boring after answering this type of questions. "It is ... challenging", I answered. "Oh, is that a diplomatic way of saying that you hate it but you can't really say it?", the question persisted. It made me smile when people want real meaningful answers and not just some BS - it is Holland after all. :) "No, I mean it is F!@&ING challenging" I emphasized with a even broader smile, and was pleased to see some mildly shocked and definitely satisfied looks. I continued,"It feels like riding a motorcycle on a tricky road full of twists and turns, and I'm loving it."

Okay, no twists or turns here, but snow helps pose as interesting biking condition in Malmö.

A few months back I took one of those super comprehensive personality tests that apparently the HR departments in Scandinavians love using. Out of some 25 scale categories, I ranked "high" for the "Experiences" scale, which shows "how prepared one is to try new activities and be emotionally stimulated by the world". The real surprise to me was in how others can perceive this. "People around them may become frustrated and fatigued by this impulse to always want to try out new things and rarely or never use existing experience or knowledge..."

This reminded me of a story back in 2011 when a friend congratulated me in returning to Toronto. I know the friend meant well and is a most caring person, but the following comment caught me off, "It is about time for you to settle down, eh?"

Then it dawned on me that this friend is not alone in the chorus. I recall several people felt it was a very risky move to, well, move. And some think that it is just a phase thing that I would pass through eventually. The comments almost made me doubt my mental maturity level. Then I realized that I like being immature anyways, so it really doesn't matter, ha!

Back to now and 8 months after moving from Toronto to Sweden, I still don't know what settling down means. I think the thought somewhat terrifies me. I feel that the world is full of roads with twists and turns. Settling down just seems like ... having a beautiful motorcycle - yes, a yellow & black one named Casa for example - and only ride back and forth to the office. Don't worry. It is just a metaphor and not at all what Q does.

Sure, one can experience plenty of new things while still living in the same place... But moving to another country just changes the landscape completely that it is so crazy! I have no choice but to adapt quickly. It is effing challenging and I am learning to enjoy the process more and more.

Sometimes I have to be so focused that I drop other important things in life like blogging for example. Here are some "challenges" that had kept me busy in the past couple of months...

- I promised myself not to work for the first year in Sweden, and I broke that promise - trust me, I really hesitated in breaking it, but it is also important to embrace the opportunities life presents sometimes. Anyway, over January and February, I prepared and taught a 6-week pilot course on public speaking with a small group of participants. It is an fantastic entrepreneurial exercise as I launched it under the talk&awe banner. It was very "challenging" as I set the goal for myself to put together a most fun and rewarding positive learning experience for everyone involved. And what fun and rewarding it was! After receiving some glowing review from the participants, the organizers and I plan to give the course again in mid-April - WOOHOO!


- In February I passed the Swedish National Test for immigrants! The test itself was quite gruelling: lasting over two days including four parts: reading, listening, speaking and writing. It is quite a feat. Now I continue to study on my own while waiting for the next level's class to start. I feel that I built a fairly solid Swedish language foundation, now I just need to build on top of it and keep progressing... which may be a little "challenging" because of the next point...

- Last but not least, I applied for university study and was accepted to the Disaster Risk Management and Climate Change Adaptation master's programme at Lund University. It is a two-year programme, and it was an incredible journey to put together the application package and network to secure the spot. Can't wait to put on my backpack and go back to school in a few months!

Sorry, Toronto - spring is already here in Malmö!

So yes.... Life continues to be challenging and I continue to love it. I wouldn't take it any other way, you know. It is in my blood. And to my/our lovely friends and family, thanks for cheering me/us on!

Thursday, December 18, 2014

The Magic of Home Experience

November in Barcelona can get rather cool. Q and I tried to warm up ourselves as we followed Sara up the staircase into her parents' apartment. As we climbed up step by step, she reminded us repeatedly - yes, over and over as Sara does sometimes which I used to have no patience for, but God, I love that about her now. Where was I? Right, Sara warned us about the language barrier with her Mum, Dad and Grann, over and over. Okay, we get it, Sara. When we finally stepped in, we were immediately hugged by her Mum's broad smiles and immersed in the sweet aroma of a home-made paella bubbling on the gas stove. I doubt that I would ever see a paella more gorgeous in my life. Needless to say, we loved Sara's Mum and Dad and Grann, and that is not just because of the paella, but also because we were in their lovely home.


The truth is... Magic often happens when we step into someone else's home. There is something quite terrifying and comforting about visiting, or even better, staying at someone else's home, isn't it? Personally I love it. I cannot get enough of it. I am possibly addicted to visiting people's homes, and enjoying the surprises that come with having guests. Quite selfishly, I feel that the "home" experiences just gives back so much! When I close my eyes and think back about this year, my mind is racing with memories of those trips that I made this year when I stayed with family and friends, and those of you came to visit us - I think I am rather private and don't like to name names, but you know who you are, "Thank You!" for spending the quality time with me/us!

You see, it is more than a latte in a coffee shop. It is more than a 2 or 3 hour proper sitting at a fancy restaurant. It is a lot more than all that. It is about seeing the chaos and madness of finding a darn plate before food gets burned, and helping each other in those vulnerable moments... or eating burnt food together. It is about simply enjoying each others' presence and afterwards savioring those moments of content silence. It is living life to the fullest. It is heavenly.

I guess this is my long-winded pitch in convincing you, our friends and family, to find ways to come visit us in Sweden in the coming years. (Okay, we do live on the 4th floor so you can use that as a convenient excuse if you like.) And also my own pledge to myself of visiting more of you in the future. (Just speaking for myself so my therapist doesn't have a fit about me speaking for Q. :) Because you know as well as me, life is indeed short, but love like that in Barcelona is truly long-lasting.

To our friends and family who have spend "home time" with us, and who want to, and who will -  Have a wonderful holiday season in whichever home you find yourself in. I hope it is warm and it smells like a delicious paella! :)