Fieldnotes from Italy

Getting to Italy involved a 2 hour drive to JFK airport, an 8 hour red-eye, a 1 hour train ride from Milano Malpensa to Milano Centrale, and a 15 minute metro ride to the closest station near our hotel. We arrived at Maciachini station (pronounced MAH-kee-ah-chee-ni) to find ourselves carrying our belongings in heavy rain at a roundabout with no idea which exit led to our hotel's street. Was this the time to resist googling directions to avoid the $10/day international data plan fee? You bet.

Uncaffeinated, I decided to exercise my 1 week's worth of Italian and ask for directions. My Italian was bad, and the store owner didn't speak English. With the little I understood, we decided to walk in the general direction he waved towards. 

We navigated the morning rush hour traffic at the mercy of a tram driver who let us cross the street, and found ourselves at the other side of the roundabout. We were just as uncertain about our location as we were earlier. While waiting for the light to change, we asked a nearby pedestrian for directions. Yes! Her Italian was easier to understand! Alas, she was unfamiliar with the area, too. A bystander overheard and turned towards us. In a medley of Italian and English, he pointed us towards the exit we needed to take. In a flurry, an older woman near him also turned around. "Ah, Viale Edoardo Jenner? Vieni con me!"  

My Guide to Boston

With more universities than you can count on four hands, Boston may be a popular place to study in, but it's underrated as a place to travel to. I had the privilege of living in this beautiful city for (almost) two years (thanks, COVID), and though she's taught me to primarily associate "home" with people, there's no denying there have been some pretty special places that contributed to my sense of belonging.

iPhone Photo Journal: Viaggio a Italia

 

I'm a big believer that your best camera is the one you always have on you. 

Well, when traveling, I always have my trusty (albeit clunky) camera slung over my shoulder, at the hip ready to fire away for photos. But it takes a while to cull and edit through nearly 30 GB worth of photos, and it'll take even longer to piece video clips into a cohesive story. 

Photo Journal: Summer 2021

 

As I've been catching up with friends about what the past few months have looked like, I've realized that my clumsy explanations - about moving (twice), taking my exam, and interviewing for jobs with my laptop propped up on moving boxes - all fail to capture the tenderness of bittersweet 1:1's with friends, slow evening walks down Beacon Street to savor the sunset, and being welcomed warmly into a new church and community group during my last month in Boston. 

Spin-off of Joanna Gaine's Fatayer

 

I've seen it spelled a few different ways, but whichever way you choose, it's still butter, flour, and Middle Eastern spiced meat, a combination that won't steer you wrong. 

I came across this dish when flipping through Magnolia Table, a cookbook written by Joanna Gaines and gifted to me by my best friend, Carly. (Might I add, Carly carried this hefty book in her backpack throughout her entire first day of visiting me in Boston, which involved trekking all over the city through wind tunnels!)

The North End

 

This past month, I've been rolling myself out of bed around dawn. There's something special about soft morning colors, the shimmer of dew clinging to the grass, a city still sleeping, and a cool breeze not yet interrupted by the summer sun. As a creature of habit, I love developing and maintaining a sacred routine. Lately, it's consisted of coffee, quiet time with God, something new to read, and devices on airplane mode. 

But shaking things up is also nourishing to the soul. Sometimes, it's just a matter of putting those oxfords on with a train ticket and camera in hand to reacquaint me with the spirit of adventure. A few weeks ago, that's just what I did. Instead of listening to the world wake up as I tap away at applications and essays, I decided to go see what Boston's North End (and Financial District) looked like as it woke up. 

Flowers and Opera

Somewhere on my "to-do" list is a guide to Boston that'll hopefully convince you why I'll have a rather hard time moving on to where my feet are called to next. Thing is, with all the wonderful places and people to pay homage to, I wouldn't be able to squeeze enough photos to illustrate the city's charm and small-town character, so this blogpost seeks to do just that. 

I didn't get to experience Boston's events last summer. Though many remain on hold, I'm lucky to have stuck around for at least one of the monthly Flowers and Opera events. If you've been around long enough, you might remember me mentioning how much I love live music. Despite years of formal classes, recitals, and orchestra concerts, I haven't really sought out live music. With the talent Boston attracts, you can imagine how these two hours in Coolidge Corner simply flew by! I don't think I've enjoyed myself that much in a while, and it was magical to see others' smiles again. 

Read all about the community's collaboration to celebrate the arts and support our neighbors in the Brookline Tab. I'll let the photos do the talking for me. 

Book Review: America for Americans

The latest of my reads was Erika Lee's America for Americans: A History of Xenophobia in the United States. Through a chronological account of xenophobia in America, Lee, a professor at the University of Minnesota, narrates the motives and lesser heard stories underlying pivotal events and legislation that impacted immigration in America. 

Tempeh Taco Salad and Green Goddess Dressing

Few things are as gratifying as hearing Will say, "Hmm... I like that!"

Though known to have a strong appetite, my brother's palate seems more fickle when it comes to anything I make. During my few weeks at home, I was pleasantly surprised to hear his approval on a handful of things I made, this salad included. 

Photo Journal: Spring 2021

 

Clockwise from top left: spring in Boston (x2), pear poached in white wine and cardamom, welcoming the sun back to Boston (x2), Boston Public Garden at sunset.

Becoming a Hopeful Realist

"I define hope as distinct from optimism or idealism. It has nothing to do with wishing. It references reality at every turn and reveres truth. It lives open eyed and whole heartedly with the darkness that is woven ineluctably into the light of life and seems to overcome it. Hope, like every virtue, is a choice that becomes a habit that becomes spiritual memory. 

It's a renewable resource for moving through life as it is, not as we wish it to be." 
Krista Tippett

"If you numb the hard things, you're also numbing the chance to feel all the expansion and the growth and the beauty."
Ruthie Lindsay

Masks can't hide our pained eyes when a newborn is intubated for a rare, unfortunate infection that leaves their brain barely functioning. Lab coats don't shield our hearts when a patient is admitted, in the next room, after an attempted suicide. 

I've learned that working in a hospital requires not only the brains to provide the highest quality treatment, but also the lungs to breathe life-giving words to hurting people, the backbone to bear the reality of life’s fragility, and the heart to stay, serve, and relentlessly pursue the mission of leaving others better than when you found them. 

iPhone Photo Journal: Winter 2021

A season that challenged me to grow stronger and softer. 

Chocolate Olive Oil Cupcakes with a Secret 2-Ingredient Frosting

 

There are more reasons to eat cake than you'd think.

Reforming Visual Culture: The Ethics of Hunger Photography

Images from: Food for Thought Project (Jerry Dietz, Cornbread for Kids)

I was eleven when I opened my first email account. Among messages from friends about middle school politics, chain emails with photos of emaciated children stand out in my memory. There was one - a small, thin child lying head down on the ground, a few feet away from a vulture - that came to mind every time I wanted to leave my plate unfinished or turned my noise up at dinner.

Such photos leave deep impressions, but they are no longer novel to our visual culture – in fact, they have become quite familiar. Whether published to shame Western gluttony or tug heartstrings and pockets for financial support, most hunger photography has contributed to a dominant visual narrative of protruding ribs and distended bellies, allowing circumstantial poverty to define the subjects. Images can certainly help to improve the food insecurity landscape by eliciting emotion and inspiring action. However, their net impact depends on the ethical grounds by which they were produced and published. Some have reiterated oppressive structures and “othering” (Figure 1) while others have advanced individual agency and civic engagement (Figures 2 and 3).

Becoming Human

My medicine cabinet once held reruns of Friends, quizzes predicting where I'll run away to next, a mud-soaked pair of sneakers, a scale, a packed agenda I didn't care about, a bottle of melatonin, and lavender essential oil. 

Today, what's left are a book and a journal. Everything else has been stripped away. 

...

I've been wringing out the remainder of my strength after twelve hour days on my knees, silent tears soaking my pillow. 

It's the gut wrenching stories, not the guts, that keep me tossing and turning all night long. Some of them trigger haunting memories. Others can't be shaken because of how unimaginable they are. The fragility within the intensive care units keeps us on our toes. So much can happen at any second. There's nothing a hospital doesn't see, yet there's only so much medicine can do.

Autumn Portraits: The Aycarts

Visiting Arnold Arboretum is a must during the fall, whether you're in need of a study break or looking to take some portraits. Trouble is, it's everyone's go-to spot, and the Aycarts and I spent a good 45 minutes or so circling the area for parking. As with anything, there's always a silver lining, and for me, that was extra time spent with these sweet friends and their adorable little ones.

Autumn Portraits: The Changs

I'm fairly certain my spiritual mentor found out which dietetic internship I matched to before my mom found out! 

I received the news myself the minute I stepped back into my home upon returning to campus from spring break. Joyce messaged me some words of peace and encouragement to settle my heart as I sat on the bus, and after hauling my duffel to my room, I sent a "I found out..." text. "Well?!?!" 

Our early evening gathering that week was full of conversations about what the next two years would bring. Having spent time in Boston herself, Joyce didn't hesitate to make sure I'd be taken care of. She called up her husband, who was jetlagged from their recent trip to Uganda - we may have even woken him up from a "forbidden" catnap - and the first reference that spilled from his sleepy mouth was, "Oh, Tim!"

Postcards from Boston: Autumn 2020

Wishing you were here... for so many reasons!

Banana Bread

 

Thursday afternoon, my mom sent me the following message: "Where's your banana bread recipe? I can't find it on your blog." 

This tickled me in two ways - 1) my mom - who did not grow up baking - wanted to bake in the middle of a busy work season, and 2) my mom considers this sporadically maintained blog a recipe box! 

Autumn Portraits: Meet the Robinsons

Meet the Robinsons: No need to travel to the future to experience love so other-worldly. The hallways of your heart may be dark and full of cracks, but they're on a mission to fill every crevice, nook, and cranny, one spoonful of love and cake at a time.