CH1. Life Goes On 21: Beautiful Boy and more Dishes

Hello, Tim!
Sometimes I wonder if using different language is diverging me from the path of being reader-friendly, but for now I think that I will persist in doing so, not just because I get to practice my multiple language skills, but that I am trying to integrate a little bit of every language and the mindsets behind them is something I do on a regular basis. I am currently in the kitchen, burrito-ed up in my IKEA blanket, listening to my one of my goddesses of music singing songs from her album, with two other people in the kitchen starting their days in their own fashions.

Beautiful Boy - David Sheff

I am not excused for taking so long to read this book. On the 4th of September I finished reading the last book of Harry Potter, and since then, I have been trying to get through this book as a steady, moderately-paced speed, but not only because this is a book with a inherently heavy topic to read about, but also that I had been troubled by so many things regarding coming to Germany (come to thing of it, I almost decided to leave this book at home before setting out for the airport. I am now so relieved that I didn't.) Still, it shouldn't have taken a month and a half, but the ranting stops here.

I found this book in the Eslite bookstore next to NTU back in Taiwan. The main title and the cover caught my eye - Beautiful Boy, an older man with marron-colored jacket, watching the boy sitting next to him, intent gaze extending to him like his hand setting on the boy's shoulder. I picked up the book, seeing the sub-heading: "A Father's Journey Through His Son's Addition", and I knew that I would have to get this book.

As the sub-heading indicates, it's a memoir about how the father went through hell and back for multiple roundtrips as his son dove deeper and deeper into drug abuse. 

It is long acknowledged that drug abuse is a new generation problem, how it has been compared to having electrically-frying the brains of all using people, but when we see it not as a mere problem, but as millions of sick entities and their struggle stories, the woe that it spells becomes much more like an emotional boulder that drags you down below. At first, I was reading the book with a more distant perspective, like a passerby looking with morbid curiosity as the family drama unrolled, intermittently making comments on how unnecessarily detailed the memoir was. But then, as I read about how Nic, the son, succumbed deeper and deeper into the pool of drugs, my attention turned only to the mental wellbeing of the whole family.

It truly was heartbreaking, seeing how these substances that are chemically created can melt away the primal and natural bond between family members, and how drug addiction can actually be contagious like the way the flu can be; how it worries the whole family from the parents to the siblings. The most ironic circumstance I read in the book was how the father described himself poring over books and research about drugs, internally tearing himself up while blaming, rationalizing for, and stressing over his son who started robbing the house and running away from it. You see how the son's obsession for drugs transmitted to his father as the sickness mutated into an obsession for his son's obsession. It gave me shudders thinking of that. How a smart, brilliant, loving son took a turnover into a person that seemed like a virtual stranger.

Right in the beginning, I noticed a remarkable thing about this book, one decisive factor that got me babbling about this book to Sabrina when I was still in Fujen. The author, David Sheff told his readers that he would rather save the knowledge about how his son turned out to the end of the book, for he wanted the readers to experience what he and his family went through, the cycle of going from hope to misery and back to hope and an even deeper pitfall into misery.

The author also spent countless pages arguing whether addiction is a disease. On some point, this discussion is very important and absolutely valid. While some people say that a disease is a sickness that you wouldn't voluntarily contract, something that you wouldn't willingly go for more. However, when you observe this issue on a more physical level, you look at how the brain composition became altered after drugs, how drugs coaxed more dopamine depletion to stimulate ecstasy, at the same time impairing your rational thoughts. You see how it subtly moves from being a "choice" into an "involuntary reflex". I think the clarification and the differentiation is important because It changes how people view an incident like this. Recalling most of the comments I have ever heard regarding drugs and addicts, I suppose (and as how the author also said it) that this issue is still highly stigmatized, scandalous. People are still viewing it as a way of lifestyle some chose to adopt, one self-destructive and reckless. You wouldn't say the same to a sick patient, to "just stop being sick",  would you?

As a person who (luckily) never ever got the chance to have such a personal connection with drugs or excessive alcohol, I felt like this has been an insightful beginner's guide to drugs, and it cast new light for me to view the drug addicts. You see the Nic who wrote a heartfelt apology letter to his little brother after the rehabilitation program and the Nic who talked about breaking into his parents' house to steal some money like talking about a trip to the groceries, you then realize that these two Nic's are not the same person, and felt empathy for the whole family and the Nic himself, for we have to know that whatever ordeal the family members of an addict is going through, it is normally much more difficult for the addict itself.

"My name is Nic Sheff, an alcoholic, and a drug addict..." This sentence stuck in my head until now.

I don't know about the future, but I have a feeling that this book might drive me further away from doing drugs.

Around 2200, Berliner Straße Wasserspielplatz, selfie 

This is Not a Culinary School

.... But let's continue on my adventurous path of becoming a better home cook!

The beginning of the week was hectic. On Monday, my classes spanned from nine-thirty in the morning to all the way until seven in the evening since I also have regular French courses. Not only was I lacking time to cook and eat for lunch (we only have an hour to rest) but also I was suffering burnouts after long periods of classes. Sometimes I even only had time for a quick sandwich with paprika, cheese, and tomato slices. That day, I lazily cooked some porridge out of the rice my cousin brought for me from England's Asian store and tore open a package of pork floss and promptly dug in. The pork floss was really divine in such times as it alone (with the undefinable amount of MSG and salt) provided enough flavoring for the bland rice (which smelled a bit burnt because I was not there to tend to the stove for five minutes) and it reminds me of my dear, sweet home, and the childhood that in which this taste was never absent.

I knew then, that the following days would be just as occupying, so I cooked enough rice for roughly three meals. On the second day for dinner, I got some of the rice out of the pot and heated it up with some Taiwanese-style pork-and-mushroom gravy on top and quickly made a fried tomato egg. It was simple, and though the presentation was far from ideal, the flavor was acceptable.

Vegetable soup noodles and fried chicken breast

Brussel sprouts and chicken breast cream pasta

One day in the evening, I suddenly wanted more variety to my following breakfast, I decided to try making some more pancakes to fill up my food stock. I still struggled with the proportioning of the mixture of the batter, adding two eggs when it should have been one, but it turned out just fine. On the next day as I dragged my body into the kitchen, I easily heated up the pancakes in the microwave, adding yogurt and sliced banana between layers, glazed the surface with honey, and I was treated to a very satisfying and warm breakfast. I didn't even have to wash the pan!

There are so many other dishes I had made throughout the week, all inspired by different people and made with different ingredients, but since we are here with time constraints, I'll talk about two of the most remarkable dishes and put up photos of the others.

The second attempt of omelette rice: looked better than last time, but still can use a great deal of improvement.

This is the curry Ram shared with me. Such a sweet guy!

Remember the pumpkin I bought last week? I was so afraid that it would be rotting in my cabinet in another two days, so on Thursday, I decided to make the pumpkin soup in my head a reality. I borrowed a very portable blender from Ram, who was having fun playing video games in his room that evening and started to hack the pumpkin into smaller pieces to put into my rice cooker for an initial steaming process. What I didn't expect from the pumpkin was how hard it actually is. I wedged around it, swiping down the knife as fast and hard as possible, but the dent make on the pumpkin skin was pathetic. Change of plans, I said to myself. I grabbed the peeler from my room and skinned the pumpkin first. It was relatively easier to cut open then. I got rid of all the seeds and sliced them into smaller pieces. Once it was in the steaming process, I started preparing for the base of the soup, which was a combination of onions, milk, and butter. The pumpkin came out of the rice cooker, went into the blender, went out of the blender, and into the pot with the soup base. Svitlana was intrigued by all this process and offered to help. She helped me add the pumpkin purée into the soup little by little until it got the color I was envisioning. A bit of heavy cream on top, and my pumpkin soup was done. It was purely vegetarian, meaning some of my vegetarian friends can also share. For the whole pot, I shared it with so many people, including Svitlana, Ram, Harish, Johannes, Johannes' dad (who came to visit him that day. He gave me several tips on learning German and the whole conversation was also in German. I think I deserve a small applause.), Abhidha, and Abhinav (whose face scrunched up because he didn't like pumpkin soup)

Siding the pumpkin soup was the Chapati I learned to make from Abhidha, and the instant curry I brought from Taiwan.

I was happy with how my fist pumpkin dish turned out, and even though there are still quite some flaws in the soup, I will put them into my mental note for the next attempt.
The morning I was enlightened on the power of pre-cooked pancakes, I decided to take it up a notch yesterday. I used some leftovers of the pumpkin purée in the batter, replaced the sugar with honey, and made some fluffier pancakes. For breakfast this morning, I stacked up the pancakes with gouda cheese and tomato slices. After melting the cheese in the microwave, I had a splendid breakfast that was nicely balanced between sweetness and saltiness. At the same time, I was making the batter on Saturday, Svitlana was making mille-feuilles, a multi-layered cream cake with a chocolate coating. She gave a bit chunk of it this morning, and I tasted a hint of cherry in the cream between layers; I simply had to stare at it in wonder.

After I found out that the pancakes turn brighter where the butter touched the batter, I made a smile out of it.

Thanks to the pancakes, I had a beautiful breakfast.

It really is delicate.

Being here in Germany gave me the chance to explore what more it can mean to be a home cook and to pursue this as a hobby that can easily be shared and bring smiles to people around us. There will be more to come; stay tuned!

Cartoon-ish sandwiches I made after returning from the night walk with the guys

I would not say that the chicken tasted bad, but they really could have been better...

One day, Johannes rushed into the kitchen, declaring that he got some chestnuts for snacks, and it happened to be one of my favorite types of nuts!

I just love the smell of it!

Night Walks and Different Paths Taken

Wenn du auf dem sechsten Stockwerk von BS9 wohnst, kannst du immer mit jemanden Spazieren gehen, vor allem spät am Abends. Jemand sagt einfach, dass er/sie raus gehen möchte, und in fünf Minuten verlassen am wenigstens drei Leute zusammen. Gestern, zum Beispiel, waren Johannes, Svitlana, Harish und ich um 23 Uhr draußen. Es hatte schönes Wetter und es gab keine Wolke am Himmel. Der Wind hat gelaufen, und die Blätter von Bäumen haben ihn begrüßt und haben gesungen.

In der Ferne hörten wir auch das Spritzen des Flusses Neckars. Weil wir vier Deutsch sprechen können, wir haben fast den ganzen Weg auf Deutsch gesprochen. Ich glaube, dass ich so viel Glück habe, dass ich mit diesen netten Leuten treffen kann. So wie eine große Familie mit den bunten und verschiedenen Kulturen, das ist mir ideal. Wir sind über die Brücke gegangen, und auf der anderen Seite vom Fluss war es viel dunkler. Es brauchte etwas Zeit, um mich an der Dunkelheit zu gewöhnen. Nach ich den Weg sehen konnte, sah ich zum Himmel auf. Ich habe Sterne gesehen ,weil es dort nicht so viele Straßenlaternen gab.

Photo credit: Harish

Auf der Brücke war es kälter, aber die Luft war auch frischer.
Fast jeden Tag gehe ich mit den Leuten, die ich meine Freunde nenne und wenn ich mit Freunden bin, ist es mir egal, wohin wir gehen, oder welchen Weg wir nehmen.
Manchmal gehe ich allein. Wenn ich allein bin, denke ich weniger und sehe ich mehr. Ich bemerkte die Lampen, die Leute, und die Bücher, die auf der Straße hinterlassen wurden. Ich finde manchmal, dass Begleitung und Ruhe gleich wichtig sind. Ich kann joggen, auch laufen, auch einfach langsamer gehen; alles, was ich möchte, kann ich machen, wenn ich allein bin. Am Freitag um halb zehn am Abend war ich so. Ich bin irgendwohin gegangen und habe einen Wasserspielplatz gefunden. Dort gab es niemand, aber in der Mitte dieses Parks lief das Wasserspiel. Neben dem Wasserspiel war eine eigene helle Lampe, die auch allein war. I habe darunter gesetzt und habe mein Buch lesen begonnen. Pünktlich um zehn Uhr wurde die Lampe dunkler gemacht und ich musste verlassen. Trotzdem war es eine schöne Nacht.

Ich habe ein Selfie gemacht

Ich bin gerade von meinem zweiten Spaziergang des Tages zurück gekommen.

The Smoke Detector

Alors j'en suis pas vraiment sûr si je peux raconter cette histoire tout en français mais il faut simplement d'essai.

J'étais dans la cuisine de mon dortoir hier soir. Il y en avait beaucoup de gens parce que c'était le soir devant Diwali, la fête indienne. J'étais en train de parler avec quelqu'un quand l'alarme incendie a commencé à crier. Aucun avait une idée ce que s'est passé, mais Johannes nous a dit que ça devait être quelqu'un qui a oublié d'éteindre le four. Ça pour moi était assez pour l'assurance. L'alarme a continué à crier, et on s'est sorties de la cuisine et on a pris des escaliers pour descendre. À l'extérieur du bâtiment on a écouté une autre voix forte: c'étaient les pompiers qui a été notifié de l'alarme incendie. Johannes a aussi dit que ça se passait souvent avec les gens imbéciles mais c'était toujours obligatoire pour les pompier de venir.

Les pompiers se sont sortis des voitures, ses visages remplis de malcontent. Ils ons su ce que s'est passé. Encore.

Ｍerci Beaucoup!

Pour moi était tout interessant et hystérique mais pour les pompier, ça était une autre histoire.

Bien sûr que j'ai fait tant de fautes sur le temps de mes phrases, mais par maintenant je peux rien faire. J'ai recherché beaucoup de mots que je n'ai jamais vu, et ça c'est pour moi très énervant. Pour moi ce n'est pas justement les règles de grammaire qui manque, mais le lexique aussi. Être en Allemagne le fait très difficile mais j'espère que dans le futur je peux avoir plus de temps à étudier le français. 

Holidays of Celebration

翻翻日曆就會發現萬聖節將近了。照理來說，台灣不會有慶祝萬聖節的習俗，但是因為天母這附近因為美國學校（TAS）還有歐洲學校（TES）的關係住了很多的外國人，不知道從什麼時候開始，萬聖節前的禮拜六總會舉辦整個區域的大型活動。家長會帶著扮裝的孩子們摩肩接踵的走著，沿路的店家也不會忘記準備糖果給拜訪的孩子們。我從來都沒有在天母的路上看到哪麼多小朋友，但是在參加了這個時候的遊行會讓你不禁疑問平常這些小孩都被藏到哪裡去了。

去年我和Angela走到了遊行的盡頭，一路上看到了各種千奇百怪的服裝（我到現在都還記得那個扮成一整包雷根糖的小孩）但是今年，我在德國看著寥寥無幾的萬聖節市集，Angela則是在新竹準備著即將到來的大學期中考，難免有些物是人非的感覺。我傳訊息給媽媽，要求他傳些遊行的照片給我。雖然還沒有所謂的相思病，但是看到台灣熟悉的場景，難免還是會有點懷念呢。

What really got me was these two kids...

My little kids... :D :(

把照片傳給了Eliza，剛好她也在線上。

這次出國，第一次好好的聊了個天，感覺她過的雖然累，卻也是很快樂，真是太好了。

今天正好也是印度的光明節，校內因為很多印度來的學生，學校也會在接下來的禮拜二舉辦派對。光明節對印度人來說是個非常歡樂、非常重要的節日，因為他們點明的蠟燭象徵著將內心的黑暗驅趕走，是個充滿正面能量的節慶。從早上就見到我的印度朋友們紛紛拿著手機跟還在印度、團聚慶祝的家人視訊，有一種「有這種科技真好」的感悟。

我也希望在異鄉的印度人能夠好好的過這個屬於他們的節日。

Ending

Phew!

I am actually finishing this in time today! Here are some more pictures I took throughout the week:

Studying with Emma

It was after 12 in the night. Svitlana and I lounged ourselves in the school library reading our books.

At one in the morning, before we headed back, we had a small tour around the place...

It was entertaining.

It is said that next week would be a lot colder than this week. Great! I'll have the chance to wear the sweater that my mother knitted for me more often!

Sincerely,

Hugo