On Alpine Roos

Where I come from, people, even some of the educated, tend to confuse Austria with Australia, or, worse, think that the two are one and the same. So when I returned from a trip to Vienna some time ago, friends kept asking if I had managed to see a kangaroo. It's during moments like these when you begin to curse the educational system and wonder where the budget really goes. Then again, there's no need to wonder - spread that meager budget among all the schools in the country and you end up with a financial Cantor set.

For some time, I was entertained by the delusion that, perhaps, I could do something to fix the educational system and teach the students what they were not taught or (much worse) taught wrongly. It was in this spirit that I attempted to explain to them the differences between Austria and Australia: first, the geographical, then the cultural (i.e. no yodeling in Uluru!), and last but not least, there are no kangaroos in the Alps. Perhaps I must have taken myself too seriously back then, because now, I would never have thought myself capable of saying that. Anyway. After some time, and more than a few well-meaning mini-lectures, people still kept asking me the same question (I don't know whether out of sheer ignorance or spite) and I began to wonder if I had even made an impact. At this point, I decided to switch tactics.

The next person who asked me that question was one of my classmates. Now, instead of launching into a long-winded sermon on Austria and Australia, I decided to... well, you'll see.

Classmate: So, did you get to see any kangaroos?

Me: No, I was too busy skiing to see one.

Classmate: (puzzled) Skiing?

Me: Yes, skiing. You don't know skiing?

Classmate: Yes, I know skiing. How did you ski then?

Me: On snow.

Classmate: Is there even snow in Austria?

Me: Of course there is.

Classmate: (shakes head) You're pulling my leg again.

Me: No, I'm not.

Classmate: (walking away) In that case, you better brush up on your geography. (mutters something nonsensical about skiing kangaroos)

Nobody ever asked me that question again. Perhaps word had gotten out that I didn't really know where I had gone, or that I was being my usual sarcastic self again, or something like that. In any case, I was spared from having to repeat the same lesson plan over and over again redundantly, which I didn't have to do in the first place, but God knows what I was thinking at the time. Still, I'm amused that, in the end, though I managed to stop the questions, I ended up looking the one who didn't know his geography.

(Since I started writing this post, I have managed to find a picture of an Alpine kangaroo, unfortunately, not skiing. When I find a photo of one such roo, I will post it here for all to see. This particular hopper escaped from its enclosure in the town of St. Veit and spent some time romping around in the snow and evading the police, who were, needless to say, not trained in roo-catching, and were only able to capture it with the help of a vet and a stun gun.)

Random thoughts on a random world

There are three, no, four things I enjoy reading at breakfast, while eating cereal or bacon and eggs: mathematics, theology, Harry Potter, and the funny papers. While this may seem an unpalatable mix to some, to me, it's a perfect start to the day. Catapulting oneself from the depths of Dreamland straight into Lucidity can make good mental exercise, I tell you. And contemplating the mysteries of the universe while trying to focus on your food can sometimes lead to shocking conclusions, the kind you would never dare to come up with under normal circumstances. I believe it is this mixture of the absurd and the mundane that has kept me down to earth, yet not so low as to be boringly dull (my, what a horrid state to be in). In two words, just right.

I am a musician, a classical violinist, to be exact. I am also a mathematician/scientist/linguist. In one word, scholar (or geek). I have a passion for all four fields, pursue all four actively, and would like to think that I do good in all of them. This tends to be a problem sometimes; some people think I'm too arrogant, others think I'm "abnormal" (exactly why someone who finds math and science easy should not be normal, I don't know), both of which I am not. I have also met some resistance within the academic community, from a surprisingly large portion that believe that a) musicians make lousy scientists due to their romantic and intellectually challenged nature, and b) if the former be false, one still cannot keep up with the demands of being a scholar while maintaining a concert career. Total gibberish, in my opinion, because I have been doing just that ever since I started playing the violin at 7 years old. Still, that doesn't change their sentiments, and so my words are usually met with polite skepticism and are rarely, if at all, taken seriously. It surprises me a lot that scientists and mathematicians, who with all their forward-thinking are supposed to be open-minded individuals, act much more conservative than the classical musicians they brand as "old-fashioned" and "small-minded". Oh well.

Life is unfair.

Sanjaya Malakar, of American Idol notoriety, had just the right attitude. No matter how many times he was insulted by the judges or the public, he would just laugh it off and come back the next week sporting a new hairdo and his trademark impish grin. It didn't matter to him what anyone said, as long as he knew he was doing his best. Because he knew that Life, though unfair, is much too precious to waste by sulking.

My mom has this uncanny ability of being able to stay happy, no matter what. Even though she is beset by all kinds of illnesses, she never lets it get over her. She's also the only person I know who can turn a horror movie into a comedy. I marvel at her, at her talent of being able to worry but still be optimistic about life, at her infinite happiness and hope.

How does one create happiness? I don't know. I have all these books on happiness and biochemistry and how mental injury affects mood, but I still don't know how to become happy. Perhaps I take things too seriously. I don't know. But my mom suggested to me once that, if I wanted to find the funny side of life, I should start by finding five reasons to smile or laugh before breakfast. There was something more to it, I forgot what, but so far, it seems she was right. When life starts acting unfairly, it's best to tackle it head-on, and then, when you have done all you could, sit down and find something absurd to laugh at. After all, life is what we make it.

There are three, no, four things I enjoy reading at breakfast, while eating cereal or bacon and eggs: mathematics, theology, Harry Potter, and the funny papers. While this may seem an unpalatable mix to some, to me, it's a perfect start to the day. For me, it's a perfect balance between the profound and the not-so-profound.

It's best not to take life too seriously.