Today was scarier, if that's possible. As soon as Guido got in, we spent several hours straight sitting side-by-side, reading through various correspondences between the quantum physicists--in German--and then trying to discuss the contents. I was totally faking it. I mean, quantum is hard enough as it is, but my German is definitely not on par with Captain Fluent my colleague. I probably understood about 73% of what we were reading. Then, I had to learn how to use Latex while he sat there and dictated our notes for the afternoon--which I then had to code in to Latex in front of him. I suck at this.
Again, Guido is a great guy. He's just...well, he expects a great deal of me, and so do I. And right now I'm not living up to it. I just tend to lose my confidence entirely in situations like these. When I left at the end of the day he said he'll have to re-read my Heisenberg translation, because it's been a long time and because he wants to evaluate how good my translation was.
I about "weed" my pants right then and there. But Don had helped me polish up the translation, and he's ueber fluent. And he had said at the time I'd done an excellent job. So why the heck am I so nervous?
Lord, beer me strength.
But speaking of "weeing", I asked Jody last night about the two-button thing on toilets. We were right--the one is for a half-flush option, to conserve water. Brilliant, I say.
On the train ride home I decided to take a breather, and instead of frantically trying to learn German even better (which I'll do tonight), I just popped in my iPod buds and listened to my new favorite song-- "Love to a Monster" by Okkervil River. And then I looked up, out the window--and there it was. Sydney Harbour, all glistening and laid out before me. The opera house was so white with the deep blue of the harbour. It was dotted with many tiny sailboats, and the water was buttressed by verdant hills, covered in red-roofed houses. Incredibly beautiful. I mean I'd seen a thousand pictures, but wow.
I'll have a bite to eat, and then back to work for another few hours. This will be a trying month. I hope I do have time to explore the city at some point...
May 13, 2008
May 12, 2008
The New Kid
Today was my first day at Sydney Uni. I had no idea what to expect. And that made me nervous. And I hadn't yet been in the city. And that made me nervous. And I may or may not have lacked a proper map of train routes and so forth. And that made me nervous. Then there's all the scholarly stuff. And that made me really nervous.
Things were also chaotic in the house this morning. I promise to write more about my host family later, but there's Arie and Ditta, their youngest daughter (my age) Jody, and visiting this morning were also Tritta (second-youngest of 5 kids) and her daugheter Maya (18 months)--all of us rushing about getting ready. I didn't really know what was going on, except that I got dropped off at Chatswood rail station at 9:03 am, was instructed to get off at Redfern, and was left to fend for myself.
Which I did, though I didn't feel so adventurous doing it as I would have hoped. I stood on the train for the 20 minute commute, nervous hot and too close to the other commuters to relax. Fact about Sydney: the metropolitan area adds up to about 3 million people...but in land area? Ginormous. Much larger city than Chicago, say. Which makes for a nice, breezy, uncramped feel...but also makes trouble for mapless wanderers.
Luckily when the train got to Redfern there was a sudden mass exodus of 18-to-23-year-olds. Bingo. So I followed the kiddos for about a kilometer through Aboriginal neighborhoods to the campus, and (magicalness upon magicalness) it just so happened that the very first building I decided to finally enter was in fact Brennen-McMacullen. Also known as the house for the Centre for Time. Also known as my new office building. Excellent.
Then the nervousness and awkwardness all began in earnest. Meeting new co-workers is always somewhat awkward, but this awkwardness is multiplied ten-fold with academicians. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I felt like the new kid on her first day at a new school, when it's already halfway through the term and all the other students are older, cooler, and way smarter than you (but at least not as good-looking. *joke*). Anyway, I spent the morning wanting to crawl into the nearest women's bathroom and hide in a stall for a few hours. Way to be adventurous, Elise.
I did actually go hide in a bathroom for a few minutes at one point. But, as always, I became immediately distracted and forgot to be nervous. This time it was because the toilet gave me two different flush options--one button with a circle that was half-colored, and the other with a fully colored circle. What the heck? My intuitive feeling was that the half-colored one was for a half-flush..you know, for more ....liquidy deposits. And that the other...well, you probably have similar intuition about that second button. But after experimenting for a while I was no closer to an answer. And I hardly thought it appropriate to bring up in discussion with Guido (the prof. I'm collaborating with) on the first day we'd met. Oh, and by the way, the toilets don't flush clockwise here (Coriolis forces only manifest themselves on scales larger than several meters. FYI.). They actually don't flush in any direction but down. It's a sudden SWOOSH, and all the water..and stuff..just drops. Straight down.
At some point I regained my composure and emerged from the bathroom, feeling ready to tackle more new stuff. Guido--Guido Bacciagaluppi--is a darling. I don't mean that in a patronizing way at all. The man is frighteningly brilliant-- a formidable scholar. But he's also Italian, and ends every word with an extra vowel sound, in just the way an Italian Simpson's character would. He also mentioned his newborn daughter half a dozen times, and at one point called his wife from our office and immediately started whispering because his wife had said the daughter was napping...on the other end of the line. Then he hung up the phone and launched into a discussion with me about decoherence interpretations of quantum theory. Awesome.
We went to a seminar given by Larry Shapiro on cognitive psychology. It was fascinating, and Peter Armstrong was there. I felt geeky sort of like people new to SBCRC do when they realize they've been singing "Nearer My God to Thee" next to Al Plantinga, Mike Rea, Mark Noll or George Marsden. I geeked out, in other words.
Then Guido and I left. At about 3 pm. I gotta say, I do enjoy the hours these Aussies keep (though Guido is not an Aussie, strictly speaking...I guess "When in Rome..."). I found an ATM and finally got some Australian buckaroos, found an electronics store and bought an electrical adapter (the one thing I didn't remember...which ain't bad, considering I packed mostly the morning I left). Then I sat at a small cafe and started reading Bill Bryson's Down Under, which Anjan had left for me on my desk--Anjan was the previous visiting scholar at Centre for Time, who also so happens to be a new friend of mine, and a brilliant young professor at some university in Canada somewhere.
I took the train back to Chatswood and navigated my way back to Arie and Ditta's-- about a 2 km walk. This walk was amazing. Not only because I'd just finished reading on the train the chapter in Bryson's book dealing with the various poisonous or otherwise treacherous creatures that live in Australia...but mostly because of the smells. New countries...have the most amazing sounds and smells. I walked mostly through residential areas, and at one point I smelled the most intoxicating flower. But it was distant, and dark, so I don't know what is was. But there were also lilacs and roses...and always, everywhere, the scent of Eucalyptus.
Arie, Ditta and I had the most delicious pumpkin soup for dinner, with sour cream that was thick and sweet. I approve. After Ditta and I talked about American politics for a while, and she told me about the Australian Christian Democratic Party, which she and Arie are active members of. She asked me why the U.S. holds primaries the way we do, and why politicians in America spend so much money. I wished Daynan were here...many people want to talk with me about American politics.
And now I must stop procrastinating and try to re-learn German before tomorrow. Guido wants me to translate a few letters of Einstein's and Schroedinger's. Giddyup.
-Elise-i-poo
p.s. Sorry this post is so diggidy-doggone long. Don't worry-- I'll settle down. And as soon as I get around to reading the manual for my new Canon Powershot SD870 IS, I'll post pictures. All in good Aussie time.
Things were also chaotic in the house this morning. I promise to write more about my host family later, but there's Arie and Ditta, their youngest daughter (my age) Jody, and visiting this morning were also Tritta (second-youngest of 5 kids) and her daugheter Maya (18 months)--all of us rushing about getting ready. I didn't really know what was going on, except that I got dropped off at Chatswood rail station at 9:03 am, was instructed to get off at Redfern, and was left to fend for myself.
Which I did, though I didn't feel so adventurous doing it as I would have hoped. I stood on the train for the 20 minute commute, nervous hot and too close to the other commuters to relax. Fact about Sydney: the metropolitan area adds up to about 3 million people...but in land area? Ginormous. Much larger city than Chicago, say. Which makes for a nice, breezy, uncramped feel...but also makes trouble for mapless wanderers.
Luckily when the train got to Redfern there was a sudden mass exodus of 18-to-23-year-olds. Bingo. So I followed the kiddos for about a kilometer through Aboriginal neighborhoods to the campus, and (magicalness upon magicalness) it just so happened that the very first building I decided to finally enter was in fact Brennen-McMacullen. Also known as the house for the Centre for Time. Also known as my new office building. Excellent.
Then the nervousness and awkwardness all began in earnest. Meeting new co-workers is always somewhat awkward, but this awkwardness is multiplied ten-fold with academicians. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I felt like the new kid on her first day at a new school, when it's already halfway through the term and all the other students are older, cooler, and way smarter than you (but at least not as good-looking. *joke*). Anyway, I spent the morning wanting to crawl into the nearest women's bathroom and hide in a stall for a few hours. Way to be adventurous, Elise.
I did actually go hide in a bathroom for a few minutes at one point. But, as always, I became immediately distracted and forgot to be nervous. This time it was because the toilet gave me two different flush options--one button with a circle that was half-colored, and the other with a fully colored circle. What the heck? My intuitive feeling was that the half-colored one was for a half-flush..you know, for more ....liquidy deposits. And that the other...well, you probably have similar intuition about that second button. But after experimenting for a while I was no closer to an answer. And I hardly thought it appropriate to bring up in discussion with Guido (the prof. I'm collaborating with) on the first day we'd met. Oh, and by the way, the toilets don't flush clockwise here (Coriolis forces only manifest themselves on scales larger than several meters. FYI.). They actually don't flush in any direction but down. It's a sudden SWOOSH, and all the water..and stuff..just drops. Straight down.
At some point I regained my composure and emerged from the bathroom, feeling ready to tackle more new stuff. Guido--Guido Bacciagaluppi--is a darling. I don't mean that in a patronizing way at all. The man is frighteningly brilliant-- a formidable scholar. But he's also Italian, and ends every word with an extra vowel sound, in just the way an Italian Simpson's character would. He also mentioned his newborn daughter half a dozen times, and at one point called his wife from our office and immediately started whispering because his wife had said the daughter was napping...on the other end of the line. Then he hung up the phone and launched into a discussion with me about decoherence interpretations of quantum theory. Awesome.
We went to a seminar given by Larry Shapiro on cognitive psychology. It was fascinating, and Peter Armstrong was there. I felt geeky sort of like people new to SBCRC do when they realize they've been singing "Nearer My God to Thee" next to Al Plantinga, Mike Rea, Mark Noll or George Marsden. I geeked out, in other words.
Then Guido and I left. At about 3 pm. I gotta say, I do enjoy the hours these Aussies keep (though Guido is not an Aussie, strictly speaking...I guess "When in Rome..."). I found an ATM and finally got some Australian buckaroos, found an electronics store and bought an electrical adapter (the one thing I didn't remember...which ain't bad, considering I packed mostly the morning I left). Then I sat at a small cafe and started reading Bill Bryson's Down Under, which Anjan had left for me on my desk--Anjan was the previous visiting scholar at Centre for Time, who also so happens to be a new friend of mine, and a brilliant young professor at some university in Canada somewhere.
I took the train back to Chatswood and navigated my way back to Arie and Ditta's-- about a 2 km walk. This walk was amazing. Not only because I'd just finished reading on the train the chapter in Bryson's book dealing with the various poisonous or otherwise treacherous creatures that live in Australia...but mostly because of the smells. New countries...have the most amazing sounds and smells. I walked mostly through residential areas, and at one point I smelled the most intoxicating flower. But it was distant, and dark, so I don't know what is was. But there were also lilacs and roses...and always, everywhere, the scent of Eucalyptus.
Arie, Ditta and I had the most delicious pumpkin soup for dinner, with sour cream that was thick and sweet. I approve. After Ditta and I talked about American politics for a while, and she told me about the Australian Christian Democratic Party, which she and Arie are active members of. She asked me why the U.S. holds primaries the way we do, and why politicians in America spend so much money. I wished Daynan were here...many people want to talk with me about American politics.
And now I must stop procrastinating and try to re-learn German before tomorrow. Guido wants me to translate a few letters of Einstein's and Schroedinger's. Giddyup.
-Elise-i-poo
p.s. Sorry this post is so diggidy-doggone long. Don't worry-- I'll settle down. And as soon as I get around to reading the manual for my new Canon Powershot SD870 IS, I'll post pictures. All in good Aussie time.
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