Wow I feel like I'm on a blogging spree all of a sudden. Errr.... dunno. In any case, here are pictures from my weekend in Kuala Lumpur. I tried to caption pretty descriptively, so I'm not going to write much. Basically KL is another big city, and while there were a few major sights to see, it wasn't anything super cultural or moving. We did enjoy just wandering around though, and the food was good. In fact, I realized that a large majority of the food I eat in Singapore is, in fact, from Malaysia, if not distinctly some other ethnicity. Makes sense, obviously, but all along I've been thinking about all the "Singaporean" food that I eat, when in fact, it's essentially Malaysian.
Oh, another weird thing was at the airport. It is illegal to buy alcohol or cigarettes at Duty Free Shops if you're on a flight from Malaysia to Singapore. From any other country to Singapore is ok, and from Singapore to Malaysia is ok (although you can't by alcohol if you're a Muslim, Malaysian citizen), but not Malaysia to Singapore. They're clearly trying to avoid the New Hampshire effect on New England, i.e., people driving (or flying) over to Malaysia just to pick up loads of cheap alcohol or tobacco. There's an extremely heavy "sin tax" on such products here, nearly doubling the price of them, even compared to U.S. prices, let alone the neighboring countries. Which, fine, is whatever the government wants to do, but it's amazing that they've managed to convince another country to implement rules that promote this as well. Social engineering. It'll be interesting to see how that plays out as Singapore matures, as well as its younger citizens.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Tropical Rains
When it comes to rain, I'm a bit like a child--San Diego is technically a desert climate, so I didn't grow up with much of that. As a result, every time it rains really hard somewhere (or snows, for that matter, heh), it's still a novelty and impressive to me. Summer storms in Boston, for example, are always exciting, and I love sitting by a window or in a car or somewhere and just watching it come down. Now, though, I live in a tropical climate and it rains even more! Teehee. Anyway, the rainy season is supposed to be in November and December here, and maybe it was, but over the last week or two, it's been raining quite a bit as well. And it rains so hard! It usually only lasts for an hour or two at most, but everything is absolutely drenched afterward.
It also happened to rain in both Bangkok and KL during my visits there, and I documented all of it. So, without further ado, I present you with The Rain in Spain--err, Southeast Asia:
Oh, also, random side note: It appears that here in Singapore, the happy face emoticon is like this (: instead of this :) I wonder if it's because Chinese reads right to left. But.... most people seem to prefer speaking English here, including the people who are completely bilingual. And very few people speak only Chinese and no English. So I don't know why that is.
(:
It also happened to rain in both Bangkok and KL during my visits there, and I documented all of it. So, without further ado, I present you with The Rain in Spain--err, Southeast Asia:
Bangkok
Kuala Lumpur
And... the view from our apartment
And... the view from our apartment
Oh, also, random side note: It appears that here in Singapore, the happy face emoticon is like this (: instead of this :) I wonder if it's because Chinese reads right to left. But.... most people seem to prefer speaking English here, including the people who are completely bilingual. And very few people speak only Chinese and no English. So I don't know why that is.
(:
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
"Th"
I don't know how many languages in the world have a "th" sound. In general though, I'm guessing not that many. English is, of course one of them, but it seems to have fallen out of "Singlish" pronunciation. With that, I present you today's conversation at frisbee practice:
Volunteer coach-like figure: Ok guys, you remember last week's teams?
[Silence]
VC-LF: No one remembers? Where were you? You, what was last week's teams?
Girl: Um, I don't remember any teams. We didn't have any.
VC-LF: Yes we did, you don't remember? You were here, right? On Tuesday. What was the team?
[Everyone else kind of mumbles that they don't know either.]
VC-LF: Guys, ok, last week's team. Last week's team was "going to the disc!"
Everyone: OOHHHH! "THEME!"
Of course, when everyone else realized what he was actually saying, they just repeated back the seam pronunciation, "team," but at least there was understanding.
Volunteer coach-like figure: Ok guys, you remember last week's teams?
[Silence]
VC-LF: No one remembers? Where were you? You, what was last week's teams?
Girl: Um, I don't remember any teams. We didn't have any.
VC-LF: Yes we did, you don't remember? You were here, right? On Tuesday. What was the team?
[Everyone else kind of mumbles that they don't know either.]
VC-LF: Guys, ok, last week's team. Last week's team was "going to the disc!"
Everyone: OOHHHH! "THEME!"
Of course, when everyone else realized what he was actually saying, they just repeated back the seam pronunciation, "team," but at least there was understanding.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Some tidbits (I promised triviality)
Here are a few gems from tonight--I went out for a bit with a friend and a bunch of her friends from junior college (which is not the same as in the US, junior college is one of three options that you must follow if you want to go to university, which we loosely define as college, but anyway, I digress...). They were all Singaporean, and at one point the conversation turned to how little kids are often confused by the concept of age and years and whatnot, and I suddenly decided to ask if in Singapore, they tell the story of the stork to small children. Everyone looked perplexed at first, so I explained the concept, and as soon as they understood, everyone looked at each other and said, laughingly, "No, we tell them about the rubbish heap..." and so it turns out that in Singapore, you tell small children that babies are rescued from trash piles.
Also tonight, I taught these people the meaning of the phrase "Asian glow." Actually, I didn't bring it up myself; one of them had studied at the University of Michigan and undoubtedly had the phrase applied to him, but none of the others had heard it before. So we patiently explained to them that, well, the vast majority of Asians turn red when they drink, and U.S. universities have so kindly developed terminology for the phenomena.
Speaking of phrases that Asian-Americans likely know but Asians do not, I did recently explain the term FOB to someone. (Fresh Off the Boat; I don't want to leave anyone in the dark.) Haha it's actually kind of funny that "the boat" really does come from somewhere, though, because I've always thought of being fobby as being a style, a kind of "get in touch with your roots" movement, and I've never really considered that it might actually be a normal manner of dressing/living for, say, an entire continent. Kind of like how stores try to sell a surfer "look," and then you go to San Diego, for instance, and realize that it's actually a completely standard manner of dress for a population.
But yes, the vast majority of Asians here, minus the few that really try to be Western for whatever reason, are fobby. They throw up peace signs in photos. The guys spend ridiculous amounts of time applying copious amounts of gel to their hair in the morning in order to achieve that "just got out of bed" look, on their way to shopping for skinny jeans. They're just so... Asian. It's a surprise that shouldn't be, I suppose, and I'm learning to appreciate it.
Also tonight, I taught these people the meaning of the phrase "Asian glow." Actually, I didn't bring it up myself; one of them had studied at the University of Michigan and undoubtedly had the phrase applied to him, but none of the others had heard it before. So we patiently explained to them that, well, the vast majority of Asians turn red when they drink, and U.S. universities have so kindly developed terminology for the phenomena.
Speaking of phrases that Asian-Americans likely know but Asians do not, I did recently explain the term FOB to someone. (Fresh Off the Boat; I don't want to leave anyone in the dark.) Haha it's actually kind of funny that "the boat" really does come from somewhere, though, because I've always thought of being fobby as being a style, a kind of "get in touch with your roots" movement, and I've never really considered that it might actually be a normal manner of dressing/living for, say, an entire continent. Kind of like how stores try to sell a surfer "look," and then you go to San Diego, for instance, and realize that it's actually a completely standard manner of dress for a population.
But yes, the vast majority of Asians here, minus the few that really try to be Western for whatever reason, are fobby. They throw up peace signs in photos. The guys spend ridiculous amounts of time applying copious amounts of gel to their hair in the morning in order to achieve that "just got out of bed" look, on their way to shopping for skinny jeans. They're just so... Asian. It's a surprise that shouldn't be, I suppose, and I'm learning to appreciate it.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Run-less
The other day at lunch, we were talking about cooking being relaxing, and I made some comment about cooking during time off or vacations. A labmate of mine seemed to think this was a ridiculous concept, and tried to counter with, "I mean, do you run on your vacations?" I laughed a little in my head before I answered, "Of course," because, well of course I run during my vacations. Vacations are fun. Running is fun. I like to combine two fun things together. It's like, (Fun)x(2). Or maybe even (Fun)^2. Who knows. A lot of fun.
By running on vacations, I also usually get to see something that I wouldn't see if I didn't run. For example, on a trip to Stockholm, I was a bit short on time, so I decided to run to the Olympic Stadium, which I wanted to see, and it worked out perfectly. Other times, especially when I'm traveling with friends, I end up waking up early to run and as a result, see animals or activities that I only would have seen had I been up that early. Plus, setting out alone on foot offers a good sense of the layout of a new place, and a morning run is usually good recon for the day's activities.
So yes, I run on vacations. In fact, by my best estimate, I've run in 19 US states and 16 different countries... it's something of a "collection" at this point*. Unfortunately, however, I was not able to run on my most recent trip to Malaysia--there are some places in the world where you just can't run, safely, at least.
Before I left for Malaysia, I pretty much knew I wouldn't be able to run. I asked a Malaysian labmate of mine if she thought it would be possible, and her reply was, "Um, no, I don't think so. People would think it was very odd if they saw someone jogging. Probably you could only go with an escort." Knowing this, though, I still couldn't get myself to leave my running shoes at home-- it just felt so wrong! So I brought them anyway, justifying the choice by telling myself that who knows, it's always useful to have closed-toed shoes just in case. And once I had the shoes, well, running clothes don't weigh much, so I threw in shorts, a sports bra, and a shirt. I mean, the plan was to go to an island, and usually islands are more accepting of people doing whatever they want.
It wasn't meant to be, though. Shan and I did not make it to the island, in the end, because it turned out to be a school holiday and all the buses were sold out. We did make the most of the weekend, checking into a fancy hotel in Kuala Lumpur (Le Meridien) for about 1/3 of U.S. prices, and spending the days lounging poolside. No place to run in KL though. I did read in my guidebook about a park with an 800m "jogging track," but taking the subway to some park to run half-mile circles for 30 minutes sounded pretty unappealing, and it certainly wasn't going to allow me to see a new sight or do any recon. So by the pool I laid, reading and relaxing, having a "normal" vacation. It was great. I certainly didn't mind sleeping in and being lazy, but it nagged at me all weekend (and obviously still) that I couldn't run, and that there are places in the world were people don't run. Because running is fun! Oh well.
*A "run," for the purposes of the count, is 3 miles or more. Enough to require running attire and a shower after. :)
States:
Alabama, Alaska, California, Connecticut, Hawaii, Illinois (I think?), Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Oregon, Rhode Island, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Washington State, Washington DC (officially Virgina, I suppose)
Countires:
Cambodia, Canada, the Czech Republic, England, France, Germany, Ireland, Italy, the Netherlands, Scotland, Singapore, Spain, Sweden, Swizerland the US, Vietnam
By running on vacations, I also usually get to see something that I wouldn't see if I didn't run. For example, on a trip to Stockholm, I was a bit short on time, so I decided to run to the Olympic Stadium, which I wanted to see, and it worked out perfectly. Other times, especially when I'm traveling with friends, I end up waking up early to run and as a result, see animals or activities that I only would have seen had I been up that early. Plus, setting out alone on foot offers a good sense of the layout of a new place, and a morning run is usually good recon for the day's activities.
So yes, I run on vacations. In fact, by my best estimate, I've run in 19 US states and 16 different countries... it's something of a "collection" at this point*. Unfortunately, however, I was not able to run on my most recent trip to Malaysia--there are some places in the world where you just can't run, safely, at least.
Before I left for Malaysia, I pretty much knew I wouldn't be able to run. I asked a Malaysian labmate of mine if she thought it would be possible, and her reply was, "Um, no, I don't think so. People would think it was very odd if they saw someone jogging. Probably you could only go with an escort." Knowing this, though, I still couldn't get myself to leave my running shoes at home-- it just felt so wrong! So I brought them anyway, justifying the choice by telling myself that who knows, it's always useful to have closed-toed shoes just in case. And once I had the shoes, well, running clothes don't weigh much, so I threw in shorts, a sports bra, and a shirt. I mean, the plan was to go to an island, and usually islands are more accepting of people doing whatever they want.
It wasn't meant to be, though. Shan and I did not make it to the island, in the end, because it turned out to be a school holiday and all the buses were sold out. We did make the most of the weekend, checking into a fancy hotel in Kuala Lumpur (Le Meridien) for about 1/3 of U.S. prices, and spending the days lounging poolside. No place to run in KL though. I did read in my guidebook about a park with an 800m "jogging track," but taking the subway to some park to run half-mile circles for 30 minutes sounded pretty unappealing, and it certainly wasn't going to allow me to see a new sight or do any recon. So by the pool I laid, reading and relaxing, having a "normal" vacation. It was great. I certainly didn't mind sleeping in and being lazy, but it nagged at me all weekend (and obviously still) that I couldn't run, and that there are places in the world were people don't run. Because running is fun! Oh well.
*A "run," for the purposes of the count, is 3 miles or more. Enough to require running attire and a shower after. :)
States:
Alabama, Alaska, California, Connecticut, Hawaii, Illinois (I think?), Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Ohio, Oregon, Rhode Island, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Washington State, Washington DC (officially Virgina, I suppose)
Countires:
Cambodia, Canada, the Czech Republic, England, France, Germany, Ireland, Italy, the Netherlands, Scotland, Singapore, Spain, Sweden, Swizerland the US, Vietnam
Friday, March 12, 2010
Almost to Malaysia
This weekend I have plans to meet a frisbee teammate from MIT in Kuala Lumpur, and from there, to go to Redang together. Redang is a resort/snorkelig/tropical beach type island amidst a 9-island archipelago, and I'm pretty pumped to do some true, lazy vacationing. Unfortunately, my flight to KL is currently delayed, but it's actually not a really big deal because I was already set to land about 3 hours before my friend. And the Singapore Changi Airport has free internet (both wireless and kiosks), so I can't complain.
So I'm just killing time here, and I thought I'd share a quick little amusing story. As we were waiting in line to board initially, I was standing next to the counter where they scan your boarding passes, and at one point it became apparent that they'd have to pull everyone out of line, and an announcement would have to be made. The two women working the counter, though, were apparently both shy about their English or perhaps simply their public speaking, and fought back and forth a bit over who would have to make the announcement. Finally, one conceded, and proceeded to pull for slips of paper out of her wallet, with a number of preset announcements, with blanks in the appropriate places to adjust for the situation. I watched her find one, rehearse a few times, ask her friend about a line or two, rehearse again, grab the mic, put it down, grab the mic again, rehearse one more time, wait for a general airport announcement, and then, finally, press the button and notify us that there was an unknown delay and we should return to the waiting area until further notice. Haha she did fine in the end, and I don't understand why she was so nervous, but it was a nice 5 minutes of amusement. And now I've wasted 10 minutes of everyone's time relaying the story. But I'm bored.
Oh, also, speaking of random, the other afternoon in the office a bunch of us were goofing off, one of the postdocs that works for another PI, a somewhat older Korean woman going after her second career, just stops and says to us, "I think, your Asada group, getting crazy. I feel it today. Too much stress." Haha. Truth? Maybe.
Oohh boarding! Whoa a mini-stampede just started. I'll just walk, we have assigned seats.
So I'm just killing time here, and I thought I'd share a quick little amusing story. As we were waiting in line to board initially, I was standing next to the counter where they scan your boarding passes, and at one point it became apparent that they'd have to pull everyone out of line, and an announcement would have to be made. The two women working the counter, though, were apparently both shy about their English or perhaps simply their public speaking, and fought back and forth a bit over who would have to make the announcement. Finally, one conceded, and proceeded to pull for slips of paper out of her wallet, with a number of preset announcements, with blanks in the appropriate places to adjust for the situation. I watched her find one, rehearse a few times, ask her friend about a line or two, rehearse again, grab the mic, put it down, grab the mic again, rehearse one more time, wait for a general airport announcement, and then, finally, press the button and notify us that there was an unknown delay and we should return to the waiting area until further notice. Haha she did fine in the end, and I don't understand why she was so nervous, but it was a nice 5 minutes of amusement. And now I've wasted 10 minutes of everyone's time relaying the story. But I'm bored.
Oh, also, speaking of random, the other afternoon in the office a bunch of us were goofing off, one of the postdocs that works for another PI, a somewhat older Korean woman going after her second career, just stops and says to us, "I think, your Asada group, getting crazy. I feel it today. Too much stress." Haha. Truth? Maybe.
Oohh boarding! Whoa a mini-stampede just started. I'll just walk, we have assigned seats.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
How to keep your cool in a foreign country
…which my last post was not an example of. With some time to reflect on the desperation that I felt while writing my last entry, I realize that the incident with my postdoc maybe wasn't that bad, or even wholly my fault. In talking to some others around me, I realize now that I am not unique how flustered I am, here although that is still no excuse for acting out on it. Or reacting so adversely to my acting out. These kinds of things--lapses in communication, confrontations as a result of different cultural expectations, and flustered moments on account of nothing being what you're used to--are what happen in foreign countries, and the key to enjoying a stay abroad is to figure out how to keep your cool in the face of all of this.
Admittedly, I think I'm more of an emotional person than many, and others might not experience some of the extreme moods that I go through. Perhaps "emotional" isn't quite the right word, but I just mean that I'm always checking in on my feelings, self-evaluating, and as a result, things like dissatisfaction compound when I become, for example, dissatisfied with the fact that i am dissatisfied. Yes, I know, a really healthy coping mechanism, isn't it?
I have, though, managed to find a number of healthy coping mechanisms, which I am going to record today, so I can refer back to them when things go haywire again. The first key to moving alone (and I'm sure this applies any number of smaller moves, such as a new job or city), is to be ok with being alone. Luckily, as an only child, I have this one down decently well. Arriving with a lot of solo projects either in hand (knitting, reading) or in mind (learning yoga, organizing your electronic photo album) is a good idea. It's also important to quickly get over the self-consciousness of doing things alone. There is truly nothing wrong with eating in a restaurant by yourself, with a book or a letter/postcard to write, or just with nothing at all. It doesn't mean you're a loner, or sad, or anything like that, and in fact, it often makes you seem more approachable for conversation.
The second big key is to establish what's familiar, so you can go back to it. For example, and this might sound really silly, but I find that shopping malls are the same everywhere. Farmers' markets, hawker centers, and other independent entities might be hard to navigate sometimes, because they adhere to local custom. Shopping malls, though, the kinds with food courts and escalators, are pretty much identical everywhere I've been. As a result, when I'm feeling lost or confused in a new place, I'll often just go to a mall. There, I can pop in and out of stores, people don't usually try to talk to me, and if I want to buy something, it's as simple as placing an item on the counter with a credit card.
Another big one for me is running, and of course now, frisbee. Both of those have worked out pretty well for me here. In general I find that if I don't go outside at least once a day, I don't quite feel right. But sometimes, on the weekends in a new place, you just don't have anything to do or anyone to do it with. (I know that goes back to my first point, but certain activities do work better with more people.) Luckily, I can always go for a run. Runs serve many purposes: I get outside, I feel productive, I can explore a new place, and it kills time. Frisbee has been a nice addition to my life as well, because I get all of that, plus human interaction! More generally, though, playing frisbee here has been fascinating and comforting because it does involve other people, and somehow, unlike in my academic life, I am able to connect and communicate with these people, often without saying anything at all. If I show up to pickup with my cleats and a frisbee, the game will unfold just as I expect, and even the banter and humor is the same, despite being 9500 miles away. That, to me, is pretty amazing, and makes home seem a little less distant.
Traveling to a new country is exhilarating, frightening, adrenaline-inducing, and so much more. Upon arriving you are immediately thrust into a state of being hyper-aware, looking for everything you need: public transit, the drugstore, dinner. When language is involved, the phenomenon is compounded. Sometimes, though, it's important just to remain calm. To have "normal" moments in life, times when you're doing something that you could or would do anywhere. To not have adventures. To not try new things. So much newness and sensory input can be overwhelming, and sometimes, what I really just need to do is go to a mall and eat at a food court, where the food tastes artificial but at least I was expecting it.
Admittedly, I think I'm more of an emotional person than many, and others might not experience some of the extreme moods that I go through. Perhaps "emotional" isn't quite the right word, but I just mean that I'm always checking in on my feelings, self-evaluating, and as a result, things like dissatisfaction compound when I become, for example, dissatisfied with the fact that i am dissatisfied. Yes, I know, a really healthy coping mechanism, isn't it?
I have, though, managed to find a number of healthy coping mechanisms, which I am going to record today, so I can refer back to them when things go haywire again. The first key to moving alone (and I'm sure this applies any number of smaller moves, such as a new job or city), is to be ok with being alone. Luckily, as an only child, I have this one down decently well. Arriving with a lot of solo projects either in hand (knitting, reading) or in mind (learning yoga, organizing your electronic photo album) is a good idea. It's also important to quickly get over the self-consciousness of doing things alone. There is truly nothing wrong with eating in a restaurant by yourself, with a book or a letter/postcard to write, or just with nothing at all. It doesn't mean you're a loner, or sad, or anything like that, and in fact, it often makes you seem more approachable for conversation.
The second big key is to establish what's familiar, so you can go back to it. For example, and this might sound really silly, but I find that shopping malls are the same everywhere. Farmers' markets, hawker centers, and other independent entities might be hard to navigate sometimes, because they adhere to local custom. Shopping malls, though, the kinds with food courts and escalators, are pretty much identical everywhere I've been. As a result, when I'm feeling lost or confused in a new place, I'll often just go to a mall. There, I can pop in and out of stores, people don't usually try to talk to me, and if I want to buy something, it's as simple as placing an item on the counter with a credit card.
Another big one for me is running, and of course now, frisbee. Both of those have worked out pretty well for me here. In general I find that if I don't go outside at least once a day, I don't quite feel right. But sometimes, on the weekends in a new place, you just don't have anything to do or anyone to do it with. (I know that goes back to my first point, but certain activities do work better with more people.) Luckily, I can always go for a run. Runs serve many purposes: I get outside, I feel productive, I can explore a new place, and it kills time. Frisbee has been a nice addition to my life as well, because I get all of that, plus human interaction! More generally, though, playing frisbee here has been fascinating and comforting because it does involve other people, and somehow, unlike in my academic life, I am able to connect and communicate with these people, often without saying anything at all. If I show up to pickup with my cleats and a frisbee, the game will unfold just as I expect, and even the banter and humor is the same, despite being 9500 miles away. That, to me, is pretty amazing, and makes home seem a little less distant.
Traveling to a new country is exhilarating, frightening, adrenaline-inducing, and so much more. Upon arriving you are immediately thrust into a state of being hyper-aware, looking for everything you need: public transit, the drugstore, dinner. When language is involved, the phenomenon is compounded. Sometimes, though, it's important just to remain calm. To have "normal" moments in life, times when you're doing something that you could or would do anywhere. To not have adventures. To not try new things. So much newness and sensory input can be overwhelming, and sometimes, what I really just need to do is go to a mall and eat at a food court, where the food tastes artificial but at least I was expecting it.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
I don't always look on the bright side
Some of you, friends and family alike, have complimented me on my independence and my ability to adapt and assimilate in such a faraway land (twice), to settle in, make friends, and venture out fearlessly. And yes, I suppose if you've followed my blog here and while I was in Spain, I might have led you to believe that I was indeed adventurous, brave, and carefree. But here's the truth. I'm not. Not always at least. A lot of the time, I'm scared. I'm lonely. I miss home and I wish there was just one person in this country that I felt connected to. I get angry when I can't dry my clothes and all my cotton items are too big on me, and I grumble every time I wake up in the morning and one of labmates--yes, someone that I both work and live with--is showering and I can't use the bathroom. Every time I try to order food at a restaurant and people cannot understand my American-born English, despite it being a national language, I am reminded of how far away I am. When I try to use the pitiful, non-airconditioned staff locker room at the NUS, I wish I were at the Z-center, where I have my own locker, know everyone, and even have managed to sneak extras from the system.
I've mentioned this to some, but the feeling is like the feeling you get when you go on a long vacation. By day 12 or so, you're still forcing yourself to have a good time because you know you paid a lot of money and you're not going to be back anytime soon, but underneath, you wish you were home. Conjure up that feeling, and then try to imagine what it's like to have that feeling not when you're 4 days from returning to you own bed, with your own sheets, and your own pillow, but 4 months. I'm not asking for pity here. I know what my situation is and I know what's reasonable to wish for (that I'll be able to make the most of it and at least come away with new perspectives), and what's not (that I could be home). I just want to explain that I don't deserve credit for being brave, or strong, or anything like that, because I have all of the same fears and doubts that everyone at home imagines they would have.
On Monday, I was extremely rude to someone in our lab, and it was all because I was so consumed by all the angers and frustrations of being a foreigner. Long story short, I corrected our postdoc's English, in front of our adviser. It was an extremely jerk move of me and I knew it right away, but the damage was done. I'm sure everyone noticed, and the postdoc and I chatted about it later. I apologized profusely, but I still feel like a complete ass. Maybe what makes it worse is that I know that the only reason I would allow myself to commit such a faux pas is because of how frustrated I am communicating with anyone here, and that I don't see that this ever would have happened at home.
Well, anyway, I don't really have any conclusion here, but I just wanted to at least be honest in my posts. Noodles and monkeys are all well and good but it's not the whole story. It'll be fine though, semesters fly by. I bet it's already almost mid-term season...
I've mentioned this to some, but the feeling is like the feeling you get when you go on a long vacation. By day 12 or so, you're still forcing yourself to have a good time because you know you paid a lot of money and you're not going to be back anytime soon, but underneath, you wish you were home. Conjure up that feeling, and then try to imagine what it's like to have that feeling not when you're 4 days from returning to you own bed, with your own sheets, and your own pillow, but 4 months. I'm not asking for pity here. I know what my situation is and I know what's reasonable to wish for (that I'll be able to make the most of it and at least come away with new perspectives), and what's not (that I could be home). I just want to explain that I don't deserve credit for being brave, or strong, or anything like that, because I have all of the same fears and doubts that everyone at home imagines they would have.
On Monday, I was extremely rude to someone in our lab, and it was all because I was so consumed by all the angers and frustrations of being a foreigner. Long story short, I corrected our postdoc's English, in front of our adviser. It was an extremely jerk move of me and I knew it right away, but the damage was done. I'm sure everyone noticed, and the postdoc and I chatted about it later. I apologized profusely, but I still feel like a complete ass. Maybe what makes it worse is that I know that the only reason I would allow myself to commit such a faux pas is because of how frustrated I am communicating with anyone here, and that I don't see that this ever would have happened at home.
Well, anyway, I don't really have any conclusion here, but I just wanted to at least be honest in my posts. Noodles and monkeys are all well and good but it's not the whole story. It'll be fine though, semesters fly by. I bet it's already almost mid-term season...
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