It has almost been a year since I first arrived here in München last September. And it seems like no time at all.

I have made friends, maybe not so many, but then again, quantity never was a concern for me. (Not unless you’re talking about my weight, which, while I do not obsess over despite being dangerously obese in my childhood, disturbs me somewhat given that I am a mere 66kg now from a heftier 82kg three years ago.) Yes, friends may very well be the best thing I’ve gained as a gift by being here, and surprisingly enough, in spite of being me.

O what things we have done! O what times we have had!

Things and times like last night, just hanging out and drinking with a few buddies. Even in the simplicity of an evening ritual (or the ritual of a simple evening), there are new wonders to be discovered about the human condition, the spare and frail tangles of an unexpected brotherhood. I see them quite differently from the shallow portraits I drew of them a year ago. The lines have thicken, the shadows tell more tales.

They are no longer just people, but real, breathing human beings like me. They rejoice and regret as I do.

I have made my mistakes. Bad decisions spun from a tight knot of insecurity maybe, but also of a deep unhappiness. I do not do what I really want to do, what really makes me laugh and sing. But there is no time to repent right now. There is the road forward; there in my future shall I make amends.

But before I move on, before I seek new fates, let me reminisce one more time (the last, I promise you, weary and worn readers) about the year past. Erich asked us last night a simple enough question, yet it threw us off our feet at least for some well-pondered moments. His question was this: “What are your Top Three memories of the last year here?”

After a suitable pause, here is my answer, Erich. I’m afraid I had to extend it to five instead of three, but these are, for me, a year’s best:

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1. September
Our first month together, just the crazy and disparate bunch of foreign students in a foreign land. There was the slow but sure assimilation of trust and fraternity, especially, I feel, after 9/11, but also, more so, for better reasons as well. The hundred and one trips Maria arranged for us, the messed-up but magnificent international cookout, the Alps climb I nearly never returned from, and of course, Oktoberfest at the tail-end of the month. All that beer …

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2. Kitzbühel
Me, I’ve never skied before till last December. The fact that I come from the tropics should make immediately evident to everyone that I am singularly unsuited for such snow-capped shenanigans. However, how could I refuse the company of Belinda, the two Mikes and my unfortunate skimaster, Manuel? And then there was me hitting on an older woman whilst drunk in a spa, perhaps a story for another day …

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3. Christmas ’01
Never did get to write about this properly in my journal. It was a strange, cloudy, murky time. Just the two Mikes and I, left to our own devices in Studentenstadt, with an ever decreasing food supply and only our imagination to salve our gastronomic desires. The Wong Kar-Wai movie marathon only aided in our sense of alienation and appreciation of companionship in the season for making merry. Weeks of just atmosphere, just smoke-tinged moods …

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4. Manuel’s Birthday Party
Oh boy. They’ll never allow me to forget this one. And why should they? It was a brilliant party, with Marco at his culinary best, a colossal gathering of friends for the celebration of the quiet Trento kid. Of course, there’s all the alcohol: beer, bottles upon bottles of red wine, the abominable Golden Arak of Hadi’s, and goodness knows what else. Culminating in the completely unpleasant and completely unforgettable couple of hours spent in Marco’s bathroom …

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5. Italia
This is chronologically the last event on my list, but mayhaps my favourite as well. I fulfilled a life-long dream to visit Italy, specifically the Tuscan Valley and it was amazing beyond words. The hospitality of my friends and their families as we moved from one town to another, from one region to the next, is something I will not forget. I can tell of a million perfect things, but the best part, for me, is just sitting down, after a long, arduous drive, for a hot cup of caffé on a rainy day.

So, that’s it for me. I’m sure it’s different for everyone, and maybe these don’t even mean to them half of what it does to me. Nevertheless, of this much I am sure:

O what things we have done! O what times we have had!

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Copyright © 2002 Kenny Mah Ying Fye.