Hello from Hungary: Budapest's Jewish Quarter || Remembering for Reconciliation

Ghetto Memorial Wall, Budapest, Hungary
June 2019

There are so many feelings but so few words to express them.

We were standing on the bank of the Danube this time last year. And one year later, we are living a new, surreal reality - a new "normal." The pain, grief, and burdens that our brothers and sisters carry in their bones, passed down like genes, ought not to be normal. You can feel it, can't you? Deep within your core, the invisible but deadly things that are destroying our world -  be it germs, capitalistic greed, or the sin of racism - are not right. We're divinely anointed with an innate sense of "what ought to be." We know this isn't it.

Hello from Hungary: The Buda Side

Postcards from: Vienna

Palaces, operas, sachertorte - there are plenty of reasons to visit Austria's glimmering capital. It's steeped in a rich musical heritage, from Mozart and Beethoven to today's Vienna Boys' Choir. And if you're a facade lover, you don't have to step much farther from its baroque streets. Vienna's imperial architecture and sophisticated charm will straighten your spine to walk like the royals do. But as regal as Wien looks, you'll find that the locals don linen shirts and breezy trousers during a summer heat wave. Come with an international palate, too, because like New Yorkers, 40% of Viennese report a foreign origin. 

Sunday Dialogues: There's Light We Cannot See

Mud soaked sneakers squish over tufts of straw. The late afternoon rays of gold cast a yellow tint over the green fields. I lift my eyes to receive the warmth and a gentle wind carries me over the dried, dirt footprints left by a tractor. 

Vibrant, red lungs expand and contract. There's ease. The soft hum of Spanish verses travel sweetly from my ears to my heart. The voices don't bother me anymore. He's running besides me; I feel it. From the expansive pastures of Bull Run, my feet become acquainted with the gnarled tree trunks snaking across Monkey Run. The branches whisper silently, welcoming me as I search hungrily for the sleek, grey cliffs. 

Postcards from: Salzburg

An ode of camera and iPhone photos to remember the sunshine city that made us skip and whistle to the Sound of Music.

Sailing the Salzkammergut

Sometimes, all you can manage to say is "wow." 

Postcards from: Bavaria (Munich, Oberammergau, Regensburg)

There's too many good things to say about Germany. You'll find high-speed, efficient technology everywhere you look, wind turbines that line the autobahns, people who are kind and meticulously organized, and plenty of excuses for kuchen und kaffee. The dark times underlying Germany's history aren't forgotten, either. In fact, reminders are ubiquitous - inscribed on cobblestones, raised in conversations with the gravity of regret and a grassroots determination for change. 

Bavaria marked my third time stepping foot on German soil, but this was my first visit to the south. Here, the pace of life felt more relaxed. German pride manifested in bold oompah music, artisan goods at the market, lederhosen, really good ice cream, and bier, of course. Of all the "German things" we previously tried, there was, and still is, more to discover.

Faith for the Vision

Far above Cayuga's waters, my alma mater stands proud and tall, sprawling across countless... hills.

Of all the memories I've left campus with, many of them include the relentless treks up to class. Can you imagine walking hiking 480 ft. up Libe Slope when the snow wasn't shoveled yet? Back in March of 2017, when we had the worst snowstorm the region's seen for some time, students celebrated the first snow day in over a decade by skiing down the slope. It's the scapegoat for why we're late to class, the curse we mutter under our breath when we get to class all hot and sweaty in February, and the vantage point to see the best sunsets over the city.

Postcards from: Prague

It all happened so fast that nothing felt real - for any of us.

It was Wilson's 20th birthday and a flash flood was threatening to delay our flight. With a diploma in one hand and a passport in the other, I scrambled as quickly as I could from the car into JFK, shielding my camera from the pelting rain. Still steeped in disbelief that my campus on a hill officially became a chapter in my past, I found myself, twelve hours later, walking through a city as storybook-like as Tallinn with a grunge-y, rebellious edge.

Lauren

In this city, people are judged by the number of letters following their name. But not everyone subscribes to that culture. Some people have a heart shaped like a living room, inviting others to sink into a comfy couch, take their load off, and stay a while. This kind of a heart looks a lot like Lauren's, and Beantown's mighty lucky to have this wonderful human bean around. 

My Year in Pictures 2019

As finals were wrapping up, I found an evening to curl up and catch up on the news. Like all else that's been digitized, The New York Times' website is designed to be consumption-driven, with tempting "Most Popular" and "Editor's Picks" lists at the end of every article. Just when I thought I finished reading about Chile, Hong Kong, and antibiotic-free pigs in Denmark, I added six more tabs to my browser. One was completely irresistible: "The Year in Pictures 2019."

Executive editor Dean Baquet introduces the photos:
"this collection of images is a testament to a mere fraction of the conflicts and triumphs, catastrophes and achievements and simple but poignant moments of everyday life in the past 365 days." 

I was immediately drawn to the concept, the natural end-of-the-year reflection without having to explain too much. The photos say it all. While I don't dare to claim that my life is news-worthy, God brought along particularly formative moments in 2019. It began with continuing to desperately cry out to Him while living in a hurtful environment, and it's now ending in a new city, the fourth I've lived in over the past five years, the first to feel like home within two months. When culling through a year's worth of photos, I kept wondering if I should select "the best few," ones I'd submit to a club competition or ones with a consistent color theme. But that's not what 2019 looked like, and the purpose of this is not to showcase a gallery of my proudest photos.

Portland, Maine

Nubble Light (October 2019)

With the Locals: The Bostonians

My fourth day here, I set out early to walk the Freedom Trail. Bill Bagley was sitting in Boston Common under a beautiful tree, reading. The first thing that struck me was how kind his voice was. The second thing that struck me was the soft spot we share for refugees and immigrants. ⠀

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Bill is a lawyer in the field of philanthropy; he was preparing to address an organization about funding nonprofit support for programs related to refugee resettlement, migration and development, and humanitarian assistance. "You know, it's just so important to help." ⠀

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I couldn't stop thinking about our life-giving conversation and looked him up when I got home. Turns out he's an adjunct professor at BC, spent time at Yale, and of his many degrees, one is from Harvard. ⠀

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The third thing that struck me was how genuine and personable he was, even taking the time to ask me, "Now if I may, let me ask you one last question - where were you before?... Oh, well it's gorges!" ⠀

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Before we said goodbye, he said, "Well, I hope to see your work in the New York Times one day!" 

You and me both, Bill.

Summer in the City

 

Environmental portraits from Washington Square Park.

Urban Jungle (Brooklyn Botanical Garden and Prospect Park)

 

Grounds for Sculpture

Youth Climate Strike (Boston, MA)

"This is what democracy looks like."

September 20, 2019

2ne2 Things (I'd Tell My Younger Self)

To 12 year old Han:

1. The picture's probably not clear to you now and it probably won't be for a while, but that's okay.

2. Emotions aren't inherently bad. In fact, feelings are gifts. Recognize that they may not be truthful, but know that they are real. Feel, mourn, meditate... then move.

3. Eat - without fear, with gratitude.

4. You can't be self-sufficient. You never will be.

5. It's your seas that ebb and flow, not your Rock.

Utah Adventures

July 2019 with the best road trip buddy.

Jenny

Do you know Jenny?
If not, I wish you did. She has a heart of gold and emanates a meekness that'll make you understand what "quiet strength" means without any words.

Jenny has been praying for me to maintain a strong backbone and soft heart through this season of transition. As much as I love a spirit of exploration, I cherish stability of roots and the comfort of home. I needed extra support during the weeks before my move and God's answer? A sunrise shoot in and around Princeton's secret gardens with the one and only Nobreza Silenciosa. We frolicked through grass still slick from the night's rain and discovered Anthropologie-esque archways.

We may be far apart in distance and soul age (five and fifty), but never at heart.