"How? How do you know all this when I'm completely clueless? You're so smart it's unfair!!!" I exclaimed for what felt like the hundredth time despite knowing deep down it didn't make any sense. There we were, standing in the heart of Salzburg, and once again, Arthur had just blown my mind with another fascinating tidbit about European architecture.
Let me backtrack a bit. Just about a month ago, I was wandering the streets of Vienna, feeling like an absolute illiterate in the land of culture. Surrounded by history-rich buildings and stunning churches, I realized just how little I knew about European architecture and history. Fast forward to now, and I find myself eagerly hanging on every word of a 17-year-old who seems to know everything.
We met in the most mundane way possible. I was working late in my office when Arthur walked in to pick up a bike key. We exchanged a brief hello, but minutes later, he came back, unable to find the bike. As I explained the mix-up, I took a proper look at him and realized he was our new trainee. Small talk ensued, and when he mentioned he was studying art in Italy, focusing on architecture, I was immediately intrigued. One thing led to another, and soon enough, I was showing him my Notion page on European architecture (where I spent my weekends collecting information), desperate for clarification.
What started as a simple question turned into a two-hour deep dive into the world of European architecture. Arthur walked me through different art styles, complete with stories and visual examples, making everything so easy to understand.
"So, why did the Romans favor octagonal structures?" I asked, curious.
"It's because the number eight symbolizes infinity," Arthur explained. "They believed it represented the eternal nature of their empire."
"What's the difference between Classicism and Neo-Classicism?" I wondered aloud during another session.
"Classicism is all about balance and simplicity, drawing directly from ancient Greek and Roman styles," Arthur replied. "Neo-Classicism, on the other hand, emerged later and aimed to revive these classical principles but with more grandeur and scale, often as against the excesses of the Baroque and Rococo periods."
"And Gothic architecture?" I prompted.
"Gothic architecture evolved over time and varies by region," Arthur explained. "Early Gothic structures in France have pointed arches and ribbed vaults, while English Gothic buildings often feature elaborate fan vaulting and more decorative elements."
We kept hanging out after work, and I asked him to teach me about European history, but he eventually told me world history, starting from the Holy Roman Empire. Our "sessions" often took place in our office after work, during walks around the lake, or even while grocery shopping. As we walked and talked, we happened to pass through the old town of Salzburg. As we strolled through cobblestone streets, Arthur pointed out the architecture and history of each church and street corner, connecting them to the broader context of European history. It was like having my very own personal tour guide, but way cooler and infinitely more knowledgeable.
"This church," he said, gesturing to a stunning Gothic structure, "was built in the 14th century, but see those Baroque elements? That’s from a later renovation." My jaw dropped. Again.
"How? How do you know all this?" I couldn’t help but ask.
"Years of obsessive reading and a genuine love for history," he replied with a grin.
But Arthur's knowledge wasn't just limited to architecture. He could seamlessly weave in European myths, fun facts, and historical events, all while switching between four different languages. He's Austrian-Hungarian and moved to Italy nine years ago. He studies in Italian, speaks German at work, talks to me in British English, and sometimes carries out conversations with our Hungarian colleagues. All with poise and ease, as usual.
Curious about his background, I learned that Arthur's mom is a visual artist and life coach. "I've had free coaching sessions since birth," he told me, laughing. "Not always fun when you're a kid. Sometimes you just want to make a fuss and be done with your feelings, but your mom wants you to sit down and talk about it." Despite the occasional frustration, it’s clear that his mom’s influence has shaped him into the thoughtful, reflective person he is today. One of her favorite sayings is, "Everyone you've ever met in life is either your friend or your teacher."
"Hmm, please elaborate," I asked, intrigued.
"Well," Arthur continued, "if you meet someone nice and get along well with them, they're your friends. If they're not nice to you, then they teach you that you shouldn't treat other people that way. You get an example of how not to behave."
Arthur embodies this philosophy. He’s a great listener and keen observer, an empathetic conversationalist, and from seeing him interact with colleagues and hearing about his experiences at United World Colleges (UWC), it's clear he has the potential to be a great leader. His ability to connect with others, combined with his vast knowledge and calm demeanor, makes him truly special. "The world needs more people, or leaders, like him," I thought.
Recently, I read an article about the power of awe. Awe is that feeling of wonder and amazement that comes when we encounter something vast and beyond our understanding, something that challenges our normal way of seeing the world. It can be sparked by a breathtaking view, a powerful piece of music, or even an insightful conversation. Awe has the power to shift our perspectives, reminding us of the bigger picture and our place within it. It reduces stress, helps us forget our minor worries, and makes us feel more connected to the people around us. We all need more awe in our lives – but surely it’s not that easy to find awesome experiences?
Well, I just found it, on an average Wednesday afternoon.
As Arthur and I walked back from a shopping trip, laden with groceries, I realized that awe doesn't always come from grand, once-in-a-lifetime events. Sometimes, it springs from the simplest, most ordinary moments. It’s found in the unexpected wisdom of a young friend, in conversations that light up the mundane, and in the quiet revelations that transform our perspective. Arthur, with his vast knowledge, humility, and infectious enthusiasm, had brought a profound sense of awe into my everyday life. He reminded me that the extraordinary often hides in plain sight, waiting to be discovered through the eyes open to wonder and delight.
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