I can watch a film and forget the plot a week later.
The sheer variety of cultural experiences, languages, ways of life, and cuisines in Malaysia sometimes required a journal to keep straight.
Just in terms of food, my tastebuds had to learn a completely different language. Going to pasar malam (market) was like going to school. Eating at a mamak (roadside Muslim food stall) always required a refresher. Eating Chinese was like erasing everything I knew about Chinese food.
So I just got used to not knowing, and that became a wonderful mechanism for openness and feeling alive in the world.