LOIS MOMENTS
Exploration.
What we think we know, is nothing but a droplet of water in the vast ocean of knowledge. We dedicate years and years to exploring the depth of that ocean, sailing through tides and diving among other creatures, all in hope of getting a taste of the sea salt at the other end of the world. But there is no end. So, we continue to raise our sail, and endlessly—though enthusiastically—search for the land of the unknown.
Here is a display of my journey of exploration. All the way from Hong Kong to Europe, to the Balkans, and hopefully, to more beautiful and magical places.
Silesia, Poland
Winter. 2022.
My friend introduced me to her favorite Polish poem, Nic dwa razy. Of course I wouldn't know Polish, so she searched up an English translation of it.
It reads:
Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised
and leave without the chance to practice.
Even if there is no one dumber,
if you're the planet's biggest dunce,
you can't repeat the class in summer:
this course is only offered once.
No day copies yesterday,
no two nights will teach what bliss is
in precisely the same way,
with precisely the same kisses.
One day, perhaps some idle tongue
mentions your name by accident:
I feel as if a rose were flung
into the room, all hue and scent.
The next day, though you're here with me,
I can't help looking at the clock:
A rose? A rose? What could that be?
Is it a flower or a rock?
Why do we treat the fleeting day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It's in its nature not to stay:
Today is always gone tomorrow.
With smiles and kisses, we prefer
to seek accord beneath our star,
although we're different (we concur)
just as two drops of water are.
In Poland, I've experienced everything I've never imagined I could—had the priest visit the house, joined Polish traditional family gatherings, decorated and opened presents under the Christmas tree, finally visited Auschwitz, etc.
Nothing happens twice, and we only live once. For three weeks, I called Rybnik home. Though I'm now 1,151km away, this place will always hold a little piece of my heart.
Here's to more lovely adventures ahead.
Belgrade, Serbia
Autumn. 2022.
The privilege of studying at an international school in the proximity of so many other countries is getting to visit them—albeit briefly.
Belgrade is a place full of contradictories and surprises. We visited ancient, stunning European buildings and sites, savored the numerous international dishes (including mine) the city could offer, and allowed ourselves to breathe in the fresh air by the promenade. Yet, walking on the streets, one could not ignore the lingering tension and unease in the air—not to mention the overwhelming pro-Russian displays. Nonetheless, the post-Yugoslav buildings and elevators proved to be insightful surprises.
The trip was never planned. One place, four people, four home countries, a couple of days, countless laughters, and
One memory.
Place.
Time.
Paragraph.
