What's in a Name?

"Good morning, Dr. Baker. The Prime Minister regrets to inform you that he will not be able to meet with you."

I was supposed to meet with the Prime Minister?

I guess I should stop deleting emails in Korean.I should really learn Korean. People tell me that in order to learn Korean I should get a Korean girlfriend. It's been my experience that if I want to lose a Korean girlfriend, I need only to ask her to teach me Korean. I am not a very good student.

One of the few smart things I have done, though, is to give the probes we develop in the lab a Korean name. Originally, that was just a way to say thank you for letting us do our research, but it has become a remarkably positive public relations boon. Indeed that was the reason I was one of only two foreign scientists invited to the 50th Anniversary of the Korea Institute of Science and Technology, KIST (pronounced like 'kiss' with a 't' at the end). Not to be confused with KAIST. KAIST is the Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology, pronounced with a long 'i' sound.

Basing an economy on technology was a somewhat novel and daring enterprise back in the 60's. Now, South Korea has become a model economy for countries considering a similar path. As a result diplomats often visit KIST. When they do, KIST will sometimes send them to my lab to show the international opportunities generated by research institutes. I'm very proud KIST trusts me enough to be their international representative at times. I've had the pleasure of entertaining the Vietnamese and Italian Ambassadors who both mentioned that their countries were considering shifting more towards the Korean technology based economic system.

The 50th Anniversary of KIST was a big deal. Ambassadors from around the world attended. One keynote speaker was to be the U.S. Ambassador since KIST was originally a joint South Korea/U.S. project. While I was waiting in my seat, one of the top administrators at KIST suggested that I should greet the U.S. Ambassador upon his arrival. I go outside and security tells me where to stand. Suddenly, I'm part of the greeting committee. It was really cool. I was wearing a suit and a long, black dress coat. Ambassadors' cars would pull up with the flags on the front of the car. The Swedish Ambassador, The Nepalese Ambassador, The Italian Ambassador all nod to me as they pass. More cars with flags arrived, but the U.S. Ambassador is caught in traffic.

The President of KIST comes out and the greeting party leaves. I have no idea what to do so I started talking to the President. I asked him how difficult these events have been to organize. He started talking to me as though we are old friends. I guess not many people had asked him how he was doing. But then suddenly new security showed up and whispered in the President's ear. The KIST President tells me the Prime Minister is arriving. And then he tells me I can't be here. I guess the Prime Minister really didn't want to see me.

I went back to my seat regretting that I didn't get to say, "Welcome to KIST, Mr. Ambassador." I ended up really regretting not saying that. The U.S. Ambassador did eventually arrive and gave the second address. He started by saying, "It is a great honor to be here at KAIST." Oh dear God. It's not KAIST. It's KIST. He said KAIST this and KAIST that for the next 30 minutes. You could see the pain in the audience.

I am acutely aware of that pain because I now see it when I give talks. Some of our probes are doing interesting things which requires me to mention them. One of the rules for naming the probes is that I have to be able to pronounce the word. The problem is that my people are too nice/respectful to honestly tell me my pronunciation is bad. I cannot say 'Bongwoori' correctly, and I can see that on the audience's faces when I give a talk. I had a dear friend go to one of my talks. She told me that she had never felt proud and embarrassed at the same time until I tried to say 'Bongwoori'.  Sitting in that audience hearing KAIST instead of KIST made me appreciate that awkwardness even more.

A few months later, a big VIP was coming to visit KIST and our department. I was nervous because I knew they would want to talk about Bongwoori. I texted my friend and she tried to reassure me, but I don't want to be remembered as the guy who can't speak Korean. That afternoon, he arrived...with a nine car escort! The front car's doors opened and people ran out to clear the way for our visitor. I had never seen anything like it. He came to our lobby and our department is introduced. He shook my hand and moved on. It lasted only a few minutes. As he was leaving, the director of our division went up to our visitor and brought him over to a poster describing my lab's work. In English he tells him that we name our probes Korean names. I told him a few of the names as he reads our poster. He looked at me and said, "You are a genius". Then he left.

I was higher than a kite. I couldn't wait to text my friend and tell her he called me a genius. It wasn't the genius part that made me happy. Hang out with me for an hour and that impression will fade. No, I texted my friend that I was so happy because there was a good chance he will remember me. Probably not my name, but he may remember the foreign researcher at KIST that gives probes Korean names. I hope that is the case, because a few weeks ago he was elected President of South Korea.