Today, I took an emotional intelligence test.

The NY Times reports that people who read literary fiction tend to score higher on emotional intelligence tests. Take the test! I posted a 34, but I have a confession – I hardly ever read fiction.

Check it out: http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/10/03/well-quiz-the-mind-behind-the-eyes/?src=me&_r=2&.

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Today, I consider the Takeaway: 5 Things I Learned this Summer

1. “I’m not psychotic, it’s the side effects of my medications” takes on new meaning inside a psychiatric ward.
Although the summer months were filled with food, family, friends, and general fun frenzy, my main goal in July was the completion of my nursing practice, a required summer clinical rotation to expose us to patient care.  The speciality and location were up to us, as long as it took place in a teaching hospital, and I was fortunate to find a spot in a psychiatry department in Frankfurt. I hoped to get a better feel for the field of psychiatry, as well as glimpse what the health care system in Germany is like.

I learned the names of medications and how to take a psychiatric history, but what I will remember most are the interactions I had with patients, one of whom said the above quote to me. I didn’t know whether to believe her at that stage of her treatment because she seemed so … normal, and yet, the psychiatrists said otherwise. Discussions with the doctors and nurses gave me new appreciation for the subtlety of diagnosing and treating psychiatric diseases.  Sometimes, the patients were clearly and acutely ill; more often, their mental illness was made manifest by social dysfunction. I’m interested in exploring other branches of medicine, but psychiatry is such a rich field that I can’t wait to be part of in some professional capacity.

(Arkie recently pointed me to this article about the stigma of mental illness)

2. No Internet = no problem
Well, that’s not exactly true, since I did have some limited Internet and it was a bit of a problem. Still, since my apartment in Frankfurt didn’t include wifi (something I hadn’t considered asking about first, lesson 2b), Gail and I made due with a computer internet USB stick that had us frugally counting megabytes. I checked my email “only” twice a day and didn’t video chat with anyone for the entirety of my stay. Having gotten so used to Google hangouts/Skype/FaceTime over the past year, it was nice to realize that they weren’t the sine qua non of my long-distance relationships. By the end of the five weeks, we weren’t itching for the Internet at all!

I think I’ve lapsed, but at least I know it can be done?!

3. Watch your wallet!
I was pick pocketed for the first (hopefully last!) time this summer. Very luckily, I ended up getting everything back because I noticed the theft right after it happened (strange circumstances). In that initial moment of shock and panic, the loss felt like such a violation. Since then, I’ve been more attentive!

4. Fan mail exposes the illusion of separateness
Simon van Booy is one of my absolute favorite contemporary writers, as the -arkies and other friends can tell you. His literary style is ideal for poetry lovers who prefer prose, with incisive metaphors and characters that make me stop in awe of life formulated with such insight.

His novel The Illusion of Separateness was one of my most anticipated reads of the summer, and in preparation, I reread his previous novel (that deserves a whole blog post. Note to self) and a collection of his short stories. I’m a fan, ok?!?!
illusion-of-separateness1

In June, I e-mailed SvB about how much I appreciated one of his characters in particular, generally fulfilling all stereotypes of zealous fan mail. Less than a week later, HE WROTE BACK!! It was short, but personalized and kind, and definitely a highlight of my summer.

I’d say that the primary lesson from this was to read SvB’s works. 🙂
Secondly — even more so than countless cold emails or statistics about the rise of social media — I realized how powerfully connected we are these days. Whom to reach out to next…?

5. Sometimes, there’s no going back
I visited Hong Kong for the first time this summer, the place where my mother was raised. She hadn’t been back since she emigrated 40 years ago; her HK was the one before the massive boom in Asia, prior to the Handover of HK to China from Britain for that matter. Even as she cited those changes as reasons for staying away, it was hard for me to understand why she wouldn’t want to return to her former home. Now, I’m not sure we really saw her home anyway, or if that’s even possible anymore. The HK I got to know was a packed modern city with impressive skyscrapers packed like tetris shapes, bustling with people constantly on their electronic devices. It’s hard to imagine that almost none of that was present when she lived there. It was unsettling to put myself in her position: my hometown still looks pretty much like it did when I was growing up; Budapest, like much of Europe, has me accustomed to ubiquitous centuries-old buildings and structures, even if they house modern operations. The past is inherent and recognizable in my environments. However, her apartment building no longer exists; we went to her school and university, but they look totally different now, too.

The places I have left might not see such drastic change in the coming decades (or maybe they will, who knows?!), but if/when I do go back, maybe all I can hope to recognize is a memory.

My mom instantly recognized the hibiscus near the HKU campus, but not those newly erected high-rises in the background.

My mom instantly recognized the hibiscus near the HKU campus, but not those newly erected high-rises in the background.

Today, I’m leaving on a jet plane

… not sure when I’ll be back again, but I hope it will be soon. All my bags are not packed and I’m not ready to go either, but there we have it.

I’ve prepared some music and reading to distract me from the cramped quarters and stale cabin air.  What do you like to do during flights? Sometimes, I watch the in-flight shows and movies provided, but I prefer to come with entertainment of my own. Here’s what I have ready for today:


Garrison Starr’s appropriately titled album, The Girl That Killed September (2007) from Noisetrade, a site with music from tons of great independent artists. Starr’s 2012 album Amateur was one of my favorites from last year. Check her out if you like Brandi Carlile with a little more pop.

 

 

CuckoosCallingCover
This classic detective mystery only came to my attention when Robert Galbraith was revealed to be a pseudonym for J.K. Rowling.  Obviously, you’ve all read the Harry Potter series, otherwise we wouldn’t be friends (kidding, mostly).  The Casual Vacancy was great, too. I wish I could have stumbled upon it with less bias to have been part of the experiment.

If you’re in the U.S., have a happy Labor Day!

Today, I ask you: Eat, Pray, Love? [Submit your experience/Ask Your Questions!] :)

“Nostalgia makes us a bit more human” – In a recent NYT blog, John Tierney discusses how nostalgia can actually be a good thing. Memories of my six months abroad (2011) studying, living, conducting research, traveling, meeting people, pretending I was Indian (in both India and China… haha fooled that Chinese cab driver! 😛 ) in Udaipur (India), Beijing (China), Anhui (birthplace), & Yunnan (my home foreversssss) constantly come back to me.

via: fyeahmindyproject.tumblr.com

This reminds me of Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. Okay okay, I’ll be honest. I stopped reading that book after I finished India. And I stopped watching the movie after she left Italy. So … I guess I don’t know what happened in INDONESIA! Haha. But then … as relationships come and go… somehow… accidentally, I was living out my own version of Eat, Pray, Love.

Eat. Okay that needs no explanation. This is 100% always happening.
Pray. The temples in India, my village temple in Yunnan, the clouds in Yunnan, the mountains in Yunnan, the sunset in Udaipur, the forts in Udaipur, the desert, the 115 degree Fahrenheit days in Udaipur, the stares, the bike accident after actually drunken noodles, etc etc… they all made me wonder about my own particular views and beliefs again. I’m still not sure… just as lost as Margaret was in Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret
Love. Welp. Welp. Welp. I did not find love in the form of a Brazilian businessman, if you’re wondering about that… but…
I think about this trip so much… because it was unplanned, completely by accident. But it meant so much to me. I turned into an infant, crawling around, eating with my fingers (literally.. what a disaster and a complete mess that was when it came to rice.. but I mastered the art of the eat-yo-roti-with-just-yo-right-hand technique. Whoot!) … meeting all sorts of lovely folks, learning new languages, learning more of Jarkie.
So my question to YOU, lovely readers… have you ever had an Eat, Pray, Love sort of experience? Did you plan it ? Or did you just open the door and there it was by accident? Or do you have a question about my experience? Feel free to share below in the comments or in the comment box below (these will be privately sent to us – let us know if you mind us sharing your experience & with or without your name) or you can email us at todaycommai@gmail.com. I’ll try to do a follow up postttttt 🙂

[EDIT]: Our unspoken little blog rule: one post per day. But it’s a new day! 47 minutes (as I’m typing this) into the new day!

Some photos below – alright, good night, dear readers!

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