Once again I find myself caring not at all for my schoolwork. What little promise my classes had at one point held now woefully evaporate at the feet of midterms and term papers. yet again my mind wanders and my enthusiasm wanes while my better judgement fights rapidly to keep my falling marks afloat and my academic aspirations from going asunder.

Meanwhile, dozing off in class, I ask myself questions far more important to the bigger picture than any study questions I will come across in my revisions. I am not satisfied with the ensuing silence. Who was it that decided students should not be trusted to actually want to learn unless tested and tried and laden with coursework? When was it decreed that to study a subject was to stamp out all passion for it? And when did the thirst for wisdom and perspective quash our curiosity into letting dust fill the pages of our libraries’ treasures?

When was it decreed that to study a subject was to stamp out all passion for it?

I ask in earnest. I ask where have the lost arts of tinkering and experimenting gone because I believe that the renaissance scholar spirit in all of us can be cultivated. I ask why we have no DaVinci or Tesla in our time when I should really ask why we’ve no mad father downstairs in his workshop who fancies himself a scientist. But I do not believe any of these men are gone forever — the great visionary and the local tinkerer alike — but under the right circumstances I believe the sun can reignite the inquisitorial spark, that flame that burns for the greater good that ended (seemingly) with the Industrial Revolution.

There are dangers of course — there are always dangers — but there is progress to be had too, and unity as well when minds are so befriended in the pursuit of parallel, if no common goals.

And again I return to asking. I ask why our delight with the miracles of the world and our incessant desires to understand its mysteries must die with our innocence in childhood? Why do we now base our judgements on slips of paper rather than our experiences, as if avoiding getting to know anyone well enough to tell if they are intelligent, or deep, or kind? Why can we no longer learn purely for the pursuit of knowledge, be taught for the sake of understanding life as a whole, not in parts?

Moreover, I ask these important and heavy-handed questions not because I mourn their loss, fear their death, but because in light of their dearth I wish to reawaken them to set in motion the cogs now rusted immobile by ages of convenience where we are spoonfed set tracks, predefined courses of action as easily as we subsist off of refined sugars and colours in the modern world.

I hold fast that we are not lost in an abyss, no, for we have all the tools at our disposal as the great alchemists and inventors did eras ago. As with every great leap of progress in human history — Renaissances, Enlightenments, and upheavals of every variety from Industrial to Philosophical — the beginning is marked by a bohemian-born revolution and the end by a period of tranquility. We are merely tranquil now. Tranquility is not the problem.

What appalls me at this moment is not mankind’s silence, but our unblinkingness. In fact, it does nothing short of astound me that so little of our schooling requires us to think, to question and work out for ourselves, to arrive at our own conclusions. Instead of being asked to think, we are merely told.We have more information and how-to at our disposal than ever yet are taking little interest in it than ever before as we are content to merely sit around existing.

Instead of being asked to THINK, we are merely TOLD.

But what to do? Surely I could debase the status quo by acting the contrary and urging others to do the same, yet I do not. I bide my time and shirk and procrastinate like the best of them. I take less joy in my studies than the average elementary child takes in nap time. So essentially I am a great hypocrite. Yet there is more to it, I urge myself. I am among the most curious of persons, and my list of activities to which I aspire is now so long I could wrap it round my length many times over. I thoroughly enjoy being learned, being stimulated by the new, so the fault must lie within the methods of my learnedness, methods which require discipline of willpower rather than discipline of mindpower. When was the last time my curiosity entered into it? Creativity? Play?

The methods of my learnedness require discipline of willpower rather than discipline of mindpower.

Mostly I am at a loss for patience because, try as I might within the prescribed channels, no one will teach me what I want to know, a fact which, to my great despair, is being proven and reproven to me the further along I delve into higher education. Do not misunderstand me, higher education is far from a worthless endeavour, but what I really want is an education dialogue that makes us think about the content rather than the wordcount or the grading rubric.

While some professors do strike impressively close to this notion, all that I have met fall short. It might be time to start my own school, if I am reading the signs properly, though no such endeavour can come to pass for me to enjoy at present, and it has long past been time for me to reprioritise my education which, unfortunately, may not lie within the aforementioned prescribed realms.

Am I too ambitious in my academic aims? Is it enough just to forego the well-laid track? Perhaps the answer is to require more of ourselves, not less. If I took all the time I spend on productivity, organsation, making lists, fretting, in short all the marks of a good student, and instead converted them into unencumbered doing I would have done more than half of my hefty list already. In short, Merlin Mann’s crisis is justified, and my challenges not to be unmet.

A productivity system, in my opinion, should not get in the way of doing, should take under three seconds to change/update/start/end/remind, should be omnipresent, and should help you to do rather than provide an alternative to doing. We are habits of distractions who put numerous obstacles in the way of pursuing what we really want to pursue. In other words, we are cowards in the face of happiness. It’s a sad, pathetic situation.

We do not have to remain victims of the inabilities of our teachers, the incompetence of our prescribed task lists, and the ignorance of our distracting habits.

But we do not have to remain tragedies, victims of the inabilities of our teachers, the incompetence of our prescribed task lists, and the ignorance of our distracting habits. I ask, again, what is important? That’s the question; I put so much in front of it. I mask it in digital distractions of RSS feeds and email, I block it with the outlines of fantasy and self-indulgence. I put off action and for what reason? It’s embarrassing how little it takes to keep me sleeping and unblinking, when it’s equally unmomentus to move me to change, to action. It is not the activities that content us but the pursuit of activities that make us content. Those pursuits never grow old. And I personally am utterly ashamed of how I’ve put it off, let my ambitions die.

I think change, constant change is key; keep things moving, shifting and you’ll not get too lost, you’ll not forget to keep pursuing, to surface everywhere and dabble in everything, to question. I may not be writing the next great American novel, but I am writing. And I may not be inventing the next revolutionary machine, but I am inventive. And I may not have the answers, but at least I am questioning, and that goes above and beyond anything academia’s asked of me. And that’s a start.

I’m a university student yes, but I would hardly say I was the average college kid. In fact, my first three years at university were blissfully dorm-free. Instead I lived in an apartment, where I quickly learned the self-catered path was a hard one to walk. Like every good college fresher I enlisted the help of my willing family, and through trial and error, the food network, and a good deal of luck I acquired some culinary skills and some tastes and recipes of my own.

Eating a chocolate-dipped banana outside Senso-ji in Tokyo

Now I find myself back in the quintessential college experience, living in a true dorm while I am studying abroad. I’ve none of my recipes with me, none of my kitchen equipment, family several thousand miles too far to call up, and a formidably growling stomach. This lifestyle puts me in a remarkably unique position for several reasons:

That last one has an interesting story behind it. I started breaking college rules on contraband equipment simply because I was tired of the same 5 vegetables for lunch and dinner (and the same “veggie” sandwich everyone in the western world serves worldwide), but because of the other reasons (no way to store meat and animal by-products, no way to properly clean up and dispose of raw meat, and not enough willpower to worry about omnivore food safety) I have ended up living this semester almost entirely vegan. It’s much easier than I thought it would be.

Delicious looking cabbage and egg pancakes at a Hozuki-chi

A bit about my background: I’ve been raised a foodie who loves cooking, and since the days when I could fit inside a pasta pot I’ve entertained the idea of being not just a cook but a chef. Of course I’m nowhere near chef-status at current, but I’ve done my fair share of kitchen experimentation and have a pretty sound base of home cook know-how. After all, I’ve got two great gourmand parents blazing the path, who have fed me delicious, healthful food for over two decades.

It’s true that once you’ve gotten yourself on a more food-centric (less packaged, refined, convenience food) diet, you start to crave it. It’s like donuts, or pizza, or fast food: you crave that because that’s what you eat. But hey, I’m a university student. Of course I like donuts and pizza and fast food like the rest of ‘em, but given my druthers I’d rather down a sweet peach than a milky bar. So the college cafeteria diet isn’t exactly for me.

Street vendors in Asakusa, Tokyo

Moreover, I’ve been appalled at the state of slow cooker recipe books. Not only are they few and far between, but the couple I have managed to lay my hands on are disappointingly meat-heavy (not to mention cost a hefty sum). I had high hopes for the Betty Crocker Guide to Crock Pots that were dashed upon learning only eight of the fifty two recipes were vegetarian (six of them in the desserts section). Not a promising frontier. Nor was the internet the answer to my prayers. Instead of a wellspring of innovative ideas, I found the same dozen or so recipes hashed and rehashed over again and argued about in numerous epicurean forums. Now I don’t have all the answers, but I was sure there was one out there.

The solution? There wasn’t one. I had to put my university degree to use on the subject and give it the good old college try by myself. As I’m sure you’ve surmised, I don’t have a kitchen, much less a refrigerator, or access to proper cleaning facilities. So I did a little research, used a bit of common sense and my best judgement (aka: best guess), and came up with a few methods that made my life work. I bought a slow cooker. Now many of these problems could probably have been resolved by purchasing a fridge, but that solution didn’t make sense to me because 1) I couldn’t afford one, or indeed even get one from a store/yard sale to my dorm, and 2) I could not mail a mini fridge back home, but I can certainly take my slow cooker with me.

Homemade pasta sauce with fresh basil and mozzarella

While you can find cookbooks on vegetarian cuisine, manuals for dining on a budget, indexes on slow cooking, guides to dorm room living, and an earful of advice from anyone that has ever had to cook for an audience of one, there is not a book out there that covers all of them. But, as I quietly learned, not all hope is lost. Most of my problems were only problems because I lacked imagination, and although in my discoveries I have experienced many moments when I wished deeply for the full set of kitchen appliances, tools, and stoneware at my disposal back home, I have also learned that minimalism and conservation are not always bad mindsets to have.

I tackled problem of “what am I going to eat?” not first with a slow cooker, but with a lifestyle redesign. Unlike my previous university days, when I went to the grocer maybe once a month, I started going once a week. Being without a refrigerator required me to buy ingredients shortly before I was going to need them, and in embarrassingly small quantities since I couldn’t store leftovers. Bonus of all this? I saved a good deal on money too, since more frequent trips meant I bought only what was needed, and never overestimated how much I would actually eat/use. Moreover my purchases became wiser. I indulged in a little convenience food, sure, and I did have the requisite peanut butter on hand, but overall I was healthier than the average university student.

Vegetable soup

I noticed I used to make purchases based on taste or brand, but on these weekly trips I started buying items based on other criteria in addition to taste, brand, and budget — does it have a pop lid or do I need a can opener? is this bag re-sealing or will I need another container for it? do these need to be boiled or will just heating do? Likewise I looked at old recipes in new light — does this have extra steps or ingredients? can it be quartered? will it work if I just throw it all in the slow cooker? how do I need to adjust for time?

So with a mindful watch on a new set of rules and criteria, I began to search for suitable recipes and even tried my hand at a few of my own. I thought about trying traditional slow cooker recipes first, you know, the hearty stew or pot roast, but after realising these were distinctly not my taste, I decided to start with the unusual ones. Back home whenever I was low on a dime I made one of three things:

1. Curry - You can make a fascinating amount of different curries with few ingredients. I usually used curries to use up leftover veggies or for a quick bite when I didn’t have much time. They’re fast, versatile, tasty, and best of all cheap.

2. Pasta and Tomatoe Sauce - The first recipe I learned by heart, I will never grow tired of pasta. Plus just a few changes here and there lead to completely different dinners.

3. Beans - Beans are something I always have in the pantry. They’re filling, and can be used in anything from soups to pasta sauces to chili. Generally they require few other ingredients as well. A great source of protein for vegetarians and an easy way to warm up in winter.

Lentil Stew

So I started there. I made a tomatoe sauce, a curry, and and lentil dish to start with, and then began browsing the supermarket aisles for ideas. I also pulled a lot of inspiration from other ethnic cooking. For example, I’d never cooked anything from Africa before, but most of the traditional South African diet consists of beans and rice, so it made sense to look there. Likewise Indian cuisine has always had a great deal of vegetarian options, so it seemed a natural fit for my slow cooking adventures. And the Chinese have been making rice in rice cookers for ages now, so why not put my little slow cooking machine to the same use? I wanted to make my creations painfully simple in five steps or under with no extra cooking required, and I using ingredients easily available at any grocer around the globe without having to own a gigantic spice rack. Here’s what I came up with, for a start.

Chinese Green Pot non-spicy hot pot with cabbage, leek, mushrooms, carrot, and buckwheat noodles

Ethiopian Lentils mash of lentils and tomatoe with some smokey cumin for good measure

Winter Vegetable Soup root vegetables (squash, potatoe, turnip, carrot) and dinosaur kale

Turkish Salad cous cous with cashews and almonds, dried sultanas, currants, and apricots

Mexican Rice red rice and vegetables

Bean Chili apparently they don’t sell black beans over here so I had to adapt

Aloo Gobi Masala medium spicy curry of potatoe, peas, and cauliflower

Lasagna 10-layer eggplant and tomatoe

Here is exactly what I have in the “kitchen:”

1.5L slow cooker

1 cutting board

6″ knife

1 pair chopsticks

2 spoons

2 bowls

1 mug

salt

As far as the future goes, I’d like to keep at it, and maybe do some more conversion and expansion. Now that I’ve figured out the slow cooker way, the addition of a steaming basket will add an entirely different window of possibilities to my limited cooking spectrum as it stands. I’ll be honest, while the slow life I cook with now is a nice one, it’s not one I could take on full-time. I may grow tired of the refectory fare, but sometimes it’s nice to eat when you are hungry, rather than have to plan three hours ahead for your meal to be done in time. But for a quick fix, my little 1.5L magic pot works wonders.