The Conversation and the Concert

I first saw Coldplay when they performed at the Grammys. I knew nothing about them, but I really liked their sound so the next day I went looking for their CD. When I found it I was shocked. On the packaging was a sticker saying 'Includes the hit 'The Scientist'". Who would write a song about a scientist and how could it possibly be a hit? I was very skeptical. Most people have no idea what scientists do. When I listened to it, though, my skepticism lasted about 5 seconds. What a truly beautiful song.

Two random pieces of information that are important to this tale. 1) My daughter had recently entered elementary school which was back when VH1 still played music videos on TV. While channel surfing, we had happened upon a music video. She asked what it was, and I told her that many songs tell a story. 2) She was of the age where things were getting harder like reading and writing and such. When she would complain about something being hard, I would simply tell her no one said it would be easy.

A few days later, I pick her up from after-school care and 'The Scientist' plays on the radio. For those that don't know, the lyrics of The Scientist include multiple uses of the phrase 'nobody said it was easy.' I will never forget the rest of this conversation.

"Daddy! That's what you tell me!"

"I know because it is true."

There is a long silence and then she asks, "Daddy, what is this song about?"

When my daughter was born I was writing my thesis. She would sleep for an hour or two allowing me to write and then wake up for an hour allowing me to take a break. I would often tell her about the current chapter. "This section is going well, but I'm having trouble explaining that result." That sort of thing which got me in the habit of communicating with my daughter like she was an equal.

I tried to answer her question.

"Well, it's about a guy who made a mistake and cannot figure out a way to correct it. So, he wants to start over. He wants to go back to the start."

Silence, and then suddenly she begins to weep.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

"Daddy, I don't want to grow up."

Now I'm crying. "I don't want you to either, but you will. It won't be easy, but it will be amazing."

Some 20 years later, Coldplay is giving a concert in Seoul. I last went to a concert by myself in college and vowed never to do that again. There is something about sharing the experience that makes it real. However, several months ago, my daughter had gone to see Billy Joel by herself. She sent me several videos. That inspired me to go last night. What an amazing experience. And of course I wasn't alone.

  

https://drive.google.com/file/d/15toWRuRF6BNq6P7czBR6sW6coC48okUS/view?usp=drivesdk

  

A Gift Giver's Guide

Many like to believe they are good at giving gifts. I'm sure many are, but I think I can present a strong case that few are better than me.

Take for instance 2017. In Korea, Thanksgiving (Chuseok) is a much bigger holiday than Christmas. We get three days off for Chuseok and one day for Christmas. As a lunar event, Chuseok usually occurs in late September which is followed by another holiday on October 1st. It is possible then to have 5 days in a row off, one day back, and then another 3 days off depending on the calendar. I usually stay in Seoul, but that year for reasons that are not really interesting, I was emotionally drained and needed a break. So I made a last minute decision to visit a dear friend and his family in Paris.

That trip to Paris was perfect except for one issue. My first day in Paris was also my daughter's birthday. I had thought about flying her to Paris, but she was still in college and the U.S. does not celebrate Chuseok (it's the thought that counts). I also don't have that kind of money, so I did the next best thing and called her on her birthday.

"Happy Birthday! from Paris."

"You *$-*%! You #&&# __ *$$*%! I'm studying for midterms and you are in Paris?" 

I may not have gotten the phrasing just right, but I do remember that she was overcome with emotion. Indeed, this is a gift that keeps giving as it is still mentioned in nearly all of our conversations since then.

Of course, there is a problem with being such a good gift giver; you have to do it every year. This can get quite stressful. Fortunately, my Father once told me that you should always give a gift you like. That way at least one person will like it when it is opened. Brilliant.

This brings us to 2023. For the past couple of years my daughter has participated in a football pool where you pick one NFL team each week. If that team loses you get a strike. Two strikes and you're out. The caveat is that you can only pick a team once all year. So, if you choose the Chiefs in week 1, you can't pick them for the rest of the season. 

It has been a real joy watching my daughter evolve from picking teams based on their jersey color to studying the injury reports and betting lines. She went from Alice in Wonderland to Jimmy the Greek in just over a year. Sadly, both methods have their flaws. Last year she picked the Jags and they lost. This year she again picked the Jags (as two touchdown favorites - her words) and they lost. Her second strike came on Thanksgiving. 

"Who picks the Lions on Thanksgiving Day?", I asked.

"They are 2 touchdown favorites."

Needless to say the Lions lost on Thanksgiving Day (it's a tradition) handing my daughter her second strike and ending all interest in the 2023 NFL season.

My daughter is very smart and successful. However, one of the few traits she picked up from me was a real joy in complaining about their team be it football, baseball, basketball, etc. And so while her interest in football ended, her complaining about the Jags did not.

A few days before Christmas, my daughter received an email that her Christmas present would be arriving soon. When you find that perfect gift, you just get all warm inside. It's a wonderful feeling.

I woke up to the following text:

'You *%$!! A Jags jersey and a Lions jersey? Next time just go to France as my present.'

Oh, the Christmas Joy! I could feel it even on the other side of the planet.

The Joy is in the giving.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

 

Mrs. Bojangles

On the subway with headphones on and losing at chess, an elderly lady sat down next to me. She asked me in Korean if I was from the U.S. I nodded yes, and she began to talk.

It is a crime that I have not learned Korean, but I cannot understand a word she was saying except when she reverted to English. "Do you understand?"

I think that might have been the only English phrase she knew. She continued to speak to me in Korean followed by, "Do you understand?"

I removed my headphones. "I'm sorry. I do not."

Laughter. A kind, joyous laugh that was engaging despite there being no chance of understanding.

She remained undaunted. The next phrase was accompanied by her writing the words with her finger on my leg. She thinks if I can see how the words are spelled, I would understand. I love optimism.

There was something I did understand, though. She was homeless. Her writing finger was dirty, and her clothes were slightly tattered. The hair sticking out from under her pink knit hat was unkept and not clean. She had two small suitcases that appeared to be everything she owned. She was also not wearing a mask. You do not ride the Seoul subway system without wearing a mask. I guessed she had mental issues as well. I saw other passengers becoming uncomfortable. One lady moved away. 

My new friend did not notice. She kept talking. More Korean. More tracings with her finger. More "Do you understand?" No? More laughter.

Despite what I assumed had been a hard life, she had a girlish face that belied her age. My mind started to wonder about her life. It was surprisingly easy to picture her young with dreams and hopes. How were the seeds of optimism planted that kept her trying to explain whatever it was she was trying to explain to me. Who gave them to her?

And then she began to sing. It sounded like a folk song that you might learn as a child. It was not loud or strong, nor was it soft or short, but it was beautiful. You do not sing on the Seoul subway systems, yet I could see many Koreans smiling behind their masks listening to her song. 

When I got up to leave the train, she smiled and waved goodbye. I was reminded of the song, Mr. Bojangles (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-LVXR6rjXs), except this time I met a lady, Mrs. Bojangles, and she sang for me.

Happy Thanksgiving

 

Interns!

While my problems pale in comparison to what is currently going in the world, this has been a rather tough week. Two papers and a grant were rejected all within 5 days of one another. It is probably a good thing that Seoul Pub is closed. I realize that these set backs can be an opportunity to make the papers and the grant stronger. I'm also not that I am that mature and really want to complain to anyone within earshot. So I have been thinking of the mentors who guided me, trying to recall how they responded to disappointments. This makes what happened today even more remarkable.
I have written before about my internship at Eli Lilly & Co. while I was in college (https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/2237994772082994999/9119638604504809769). That experience changed my life, and as a result, I have several interns in the lab. I do not care what your background is. If you want to be in the lab and learn, it is important to me to give you every opportunity to succeed. I also find yelling, "Intern!" to be extremely therapeutic. Try it. It's rather surprising.
Employee's children going to college could get a summer job at Lilly's which is how I started. I was very lucky to get placed in a research lab. Having a new student for only three months with very little lab experience is not exactly a recipe for success. Indeed, I often heard the phrase, "Summer help, some are not." I was often in the 'not' category. I will always remember the very first thing I was asked to do, serial dilutions. I remember it because I couldn't do it. I was so embarrassed. Nothing like lowering expectations on your first day. Since that time, I have seen labs release people for such a mistake. This leads me to the second reason I remember that moment. Instead of chastising me, he just asked if I was having trouble. When I nodded, he simply said, "Let me show you."
Fortunately, my time in that lab spanned nearly three years. I was even given a project that led to my first publication which enabled me to go to grad school. (WARNING! Since this is a public blog, I should point out now that there is about to be a lot of sexy talk. If that kind of thing offends you, you might want to skip the next paragraph.)
Penicillin is an antibiotic that has a four ring structure. Some bacteria can recognize that four ring structure and eliminate it resulting in antibiotic resistance. Cephalosporin is an antibiotic with an expanded ring structure that can be used to treat penicillin-resistant bacteria (excuse me, I need a cigarette). Since Lilly's is a pharmaceutical company, they were studying how cephalosporin is produced. In some organisms the four ring structure is expanded and hydroxylated by a single enzyme called expandase/hydroxylase. In other organisms that chemical process is done by two separate enzymes, one called expandase and the other hydroxylase.
I was working on hydroxylase while the guy who showed me how to do serial dilutions was working on expandase (or technically, recombinant DAOCS). We were using a technique called HPLC which enabled us to separate the expanded ring compound made by the enzyme expandase from the expanded ring/hydroxylated compound made by hydroxylase. One day my colleague's machine breaks down, so he ran his assays on my machine.
I should point out that HPLC is a very unforgiving technique. If your experimental technique is poor, you will see it in the different amounts of compound coming off the HPLC. I know this from experience, as my pipetting skills were rather poor. So I really wanted see how good my colleague's skill was when I saw a small but real amount of hydroxylase compound coming off the HPLC. There should only have been the expandase compound present, but it turns out that all of these enzymes could catalyze both the expandase and hydroxylase steps with differing degrees of efficiency. No one had ever seen this before. Even though it wasn't my experiment, it was the first time I felt I had contributed to the lab.

Why do I tell this story now? Because today I got a notification that my hydroxylase paper published 29 years ago was referenced (https://dx.doi.org/10.1021/acs.inorgchem.0c01211). What did they say? "In fact, recombinant DAOCS in S. clavuligerus showed an extremely low level of DACS hydroxylation activity..." They referenced that experiment! How cool is that? I'm guessing I'm not the only one that could use a cigarette right now.
All kidding aside, this made me feel really good especially at a time when I could use some inspiration. You never know what's going to matter or when or by whom, so you must continue to fight the good fight. Which reminds me...

"Interns!"

Initiative

Louis CK is an American comedian I like a lot. On his recent special, he talks about channel surfing and how he always has to stop and watch a particular scene in the movie, Magic Mike. For those who don't know, Magic Mike is a movie about male strippers starring Matthew McConaughey. The scene that Louis CK must watch is when Matthew McConaughey is introducing the male strippers to a room full of women.

"The law says you can't touch, but I think I see a lot of law breakers out there." -it's best if you use a Southern accent.

That is just hilarious. I know I quote that line too often, but it just makes me laugh. I got to find me some law breakers.

One of the scenes I always stop to watch is from an 80's movie called Working Girl most famous for the theme song, Let the River Run by Carly Simon (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv-0mmVnxPA - love the 80's hair). In this movie, a secretary (Melanie Griffith) shares a business idea with her boss (Sigourney Weaver) who promptly steals it. When her boss breaks her leg, Melanie Griffith teams up with Harrison Ford to pull off the deal. It's not a great movie, but I like it. It is full of hope.

The scene I always watch is when Griffith and Ford act like a couple to crash the CEO's daughter's wedding. After the father-bride dance, Melanie Griffith cuts in to pitch the project. It's not nearly as funny as the Magic Mike scene, but it showed ordinary people doing extraordinary things. That really appeals to me.

Last December I'm in Washington D.C. for the Brain Initiative meeting. One speaker who had a title like 'The President's Director of Scientific Progress' pointed out the main goal of the meeting which was to think big. As an example he likened the Brain Initiative to the Apollo Program quoting an astronaut, "I want to die on Mars, but not on impact." It was a pretty cool meeting.

As I was checking the schedule of the meeting, I see that the night session will discuss the Korean Brain Initiative effort. There was a Korean Brain Initiative? The Brain Initiative has been very contagious with many countries starting their own efforts, but I was not aware that Korea was thinking to do the same. I needed to find out more. I see a colleague standing in line for coffee. Right behind him is a Korean guy in a suit who looks very official. Time to go talk to my colleague (cue the music to Let the River Run).

After some very brief small talk, I raise my voice, "I'm stunned at the size of this meeting. Even the Korean Brain Initiative has a session here. I'm from Korea. I had no idea." So subtle, but it worked... kind of.

He had nothing to do with the Korea Brain Initiative. "I'm very proud of my home country, I had no idea either." His name was Dr. Kendall Lee and is one of the leading neurosurgeons in the US working at the Mayo Clinic (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3QQOQAILZw). He does deep brain stimulation which continuously stimulates an area in the brain to alleviate Parkinson's disease. It is not well understood why this works. They were developing physical sensors to measure neurotransmitter release. They cannot use electrodes because the electrical stimulations interfere with their readings. When I show him our research using light instead of voltage to monitor neuronal activity, he lights up. "This is perfect for us. Will your probes work on pigs?"

Two months later, I'm in Rochester, Minnesota to present our research at the Mayo Clinic. Dr. Lee has a couple of large groups. One is working on deep brain stimulation while the other works on spinal cord injury (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBk9wslGBhQ). Dr. Lee's groups presented their research first. Since the results have not been published yet, I cannot go into too much detail. What I can say is that I was completely stunned by what I saw. I have searched for related videos (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mp8wFYu4l4w). This gives you a small example of what I saw. The progress these patients have made is miraculous. I sat spell bound for every one of their presentations. Utterly extraordinary.

Dr. Lee then gets up to introduce me. "Great work guys. Today we have a guest presenter from the Korea Institute of Science and Technology. I think you will enjoy his presentation on using light to monitor neuronal activity. Dr. Baker, are you ready to present?"

Uhm, no actually. I'm good. I've just watched 30 minutes of truly spectacular research. There is no way I can follow that. What am I going to say? "This cell glows and gets dimmer. This cell glows and gets dimmer." Oh, boy. Thankfully, I've taken acting classes and learned that yes is the more interesting answer. The talk was well received. There is a real potential for our work to complement theirs. During deep brain stimulation, we may be able to show them the best position for the electrode placement and the frequency of stimulation. For spinal cord injury, we may be able to monitor the behavior of damaged circuits and determine if they are recovering or rewiring after the treatment. I could also see the potential for other labs at KIST to assist the Mayo Clinic's efforts.

Yesterday, I learned that KIST agrees and is funding my proposal for a joint meeting between the two institutes for potential collaborations. Who knows what the real result will be. I am just so grateful for the opportunity to find out. These are exciting times. I was extremely lucky that Dr. Lee was waiting behind my colleague in line for coffee. Initiatives, giving ordinary people the chance to be extraordinary. Let's try. Absolutely.

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.

Teaching

My mom was a teacher. My aunts were teachers. My uncles were teachers. Of all the professions I have ever interacted with, teachers have had the most impact on me. The point is that I value teaching a great deal. This past year I finally qualified for a faculty position at the University of Science and Technology (UST). So I was extremely honored last week when I was named the new vice-chair of the UST-KIST Biomedical Graduate Program. I am not sure why I was named vice-chair. I'm not sure what the vice-chair officially does, but it doesn't matter. To break the cultural and language barriers means a great deal to me. Korea has offered me some wonderful opportunities, and I am happy to play my part in further developing the scientific foundation of Korean Science, educating graduate students.

Teaching is much more than just providing information. Teaching is the art of learning: how to ask questions, make observations, dealing with unknowns.... On this, the sixth anniversary of my blog, I would like to share some teaching experiences that are very dear to me.

When I first graduated college, I didn't really know what I was going to do. I ended up working in a restaurant at night and was occasionally a substitute teacher at my former high school. I liked being a substitute teacher. I got to teach classes ranging from art to biology to history and math. I did not like teaching honor classes. The students would look down on me wondering what a substitute teacher could possibly teach them. I much preferred the remedial classes, the students people had given up on, the hoods. Those students responded very well to simple respect and expecting them to learn.

One remedial class I will never forget. I arrive at 8 a.m. and look at the lesson plan. First class was Earth Science. Second class was Math. And the last class of the day was sex education. SEX EDUCATION? I'm 23-24 and I'm about to teach sex ed to 18 year-olds with no warning. Talk about dreading the end of the day. There were eight students in that class. Five were girls, one of whom was in a wheel chair which for reasons I still do not understand added to my uneasiness. The topic was contraception. The book listed several methods and we were to discuss them. Great. The first method was abstinence. So I wrote on the board abstinence and said the first thing I could think of.

"Abstinence. Unfortunately, this is the method I use. Not on purpose, but such is life."

Instantly, the tension was broken. We discussed condoms, IUDs, the pill... There was an actual discussion with high-schoolers about contraception. I learned a lot. A recurring theme throughout my life has been that just knowing you are not the only one suffering from whatever it is your are suffering from helps. Only two of the students had had sex. I guess the other students felt better about themselves knowing their teacher was struggling with life as well.

About a month later I was teaching a math class. The topic was algebra and most of the students were hoods. It was late April and many of them had just given up. Given my recent experience with these students I knew forcing them wasn't going to work, so I asked what the problem was.

"I don't get these letters. It makes no sense. It's like a foreign language," one girl tells me.

"Okay," I reply, "what is 2 plus 2?"

"4", she says

"What is 5 plus 5?"

She says, "10".

"What is x plus x?"

She has no idea. I repeat the questions. When I ask what is x plus x this time, the smile on her face was priceless. "2x", she says. I ask, "what is y plus y?" She answers, "2y."

A week later in the faculty dining lounge, an extremely attractive teacher (the kind high school boys dream of as well as 24 year-old substitute teachers) comes up to me and asks if I taught her math class last week. I stammer a weak yes. She tells me that one of the girls in her class handed in a homework assignment and got a 95%. I was like great. She says,"No. You don't understand. This was the first homework assignment she has handed in all year. What did you do?" I told her I wasn't sure. The next day the attractive teacher was having lunch talking about how she had broken up with her boyfriend. He was a hunter and that was one of the things she didn't like. She was sitting next to a teacher I had when I was a student there. As I took my tray back, I stopped in front of them and told my old teacher, "I really don't like to hunt." That line fell so flat. Complete fail. Lead balloons are more successful. Indeed, from that moment on, I just do a walk-by. I practice abstinence way too much and not on purpose.

Several years later at KIST, these moments are still occurring (yes, the abstinence too, but let's focus on the teaching). A group of undergraduates are visiting my department. They are interested in careers in research and possibly intern over the summer. I walk into my lab, and one of my students is giving them a tour. He says maybe Doctor Baker would be better at explaining what we do. I ask how much time do I have. When he tells me only 5 minutes, I decide to take a different approach.

"Instead of trying to cram our research into 5 minutes, let's talk a little about what research is." This question was initially an attempt to gauge their English ability, but it leads to one of those moments of inspiration. Some of the students say it is doing experiments which is a good start.

"Yes, that's part of it, but what does research mean? Research. Two parts, re and search, right? So, search - to look, to seek, to find, to explore. Re? to do again and again. Why do we have to keep searching? Because we are going to fail, and fail, and fail. Indeed, we will fail far more than we will succeed, right? Science is hard which is good. If it was easy, it would already have be done. Besides, being right all the time is boring. I know you all are doing well in class, but research is more than just knowing. It is finding out why you're wrong. And when you do, those are the moments when you have a chance to see what no one has ever seen before. This! This is why we do science."

The expressions on their faces melted me. I knew I had hit home. Career decisions are hard and often wrong. I think letting them know that failure is okay, is normal, and can even be amazing encouraged their decisions, strengthened their sense of purpose.

The final example happened just last week. I am teaching a field research course on voltage imaging. Field research courses are basically lab courses. I have four students, two of which work in my lab. We meet once a week and go over concepts and theories. Last week, we started imaging. One of my students demonstrated the procedure using a voltage-sensitive dye. When she was done, I turned to another student and said, "Your turn." The look of fear on her face was immense. She refused. She said she couldn't do it. "Your time is precious and you shouldn't waste it on me."

"You are right. Time is precious, and do you know one of the most precious ways to spend time?"

After a few seconds of silence, I answered my own question. "By teaching students. Teaching students is one of the best ways of spending time."

She sat down at the scope, found some cells, and with the assistance of my students was able to image voltage. "I'm so happy. I can't believe it. I feel so strong. I want to do more."

Teaching is much more than just providing information. Teaching is also giving people the confidence to try new things. We will fail. Failure is normal. But if we are willing to learn, failure will lead to success. Teaching, therefore, gives you the opportunity to succeed. I come from a family of teachers, and I am very grateful.

A Train of Hope

Baltimore, Feb. 2015. I'm on a train heading to New Haven. In a few months there will be riots in the streets of Baltimore. The stage is set.


Moving to Korea was a great opportunity for me, but it came at a high price. While I was able to stay close to my daughter, I missed many things. Important things. I never met any of Megan's high school teachers. I never saw any of Megan's high school choir concerts. Megan would graduate in June of 2015 so when I learned that she had a concert that coincided with a meeting I was attending in Baltimore, I wasn't going to miss this chance. It didn't matter that it was over 6 hours away. It didn't matter that I would have to take an early train, get a taxi, and then rent a car just to get there in time for the concert. It didn't matter that the snow storm in Connecticut was predicted to begin just as the concert was ending. I was going to see my daughter sing no matter what.


I have always loved taking the train. In Korea the high speed trains are remarkably efficient. They apologize when the train is two minutes late. In the U.S., one is happy when the train isn't more than 20 minutes late. It is sad that train travel in the U.S. is still remarkably slow. The train track parallels I-95. To look out the window and see cars going faster is just sad. But I still love it. Somehow I feel like I'm in a movie, that something important is going to happen. Indeed, on this trip it already had.


Since there was a strong possibility of not making it back to Baltimore the same day, I took my luggage with me. It was a quarter to six in the morning. I got a cab to go to the train station. At the second light a car behind us flashes its lights. It was still very dark and very cold. At the next light the same car again flashes its lights. The cab driver gets annoyed and takes off quickly. It is amazing that at six in the morning how many red lights one can hit. I don't think we missed a single one which meant that we never lost our tail.


Things began to escalate. At the next red, lights flash and the horn honks. At the next red we are bumped. The taxi driver has had enough. He gets out of the car and starts yelling. I'm in Baltimore with nobody around. The cabbie has pissed off the guy behind us and someone is going to get shot. It's Baltimore. I'm going to die because whoever wants to kill this cabbie will not want to leave a witness. There is a knock on my window. The Bell Hop from the hotel hands me my computer. It had fallen out of my bag when I hailed the taxi. This guy jumped in his car and chased us almost six blocks trying to return my computer. I looked at him like a deer in headlights. Where am I? It's early, it's cold, and I've just witnessed kindness from a stranger. This too is Baltimore. I come to enough to thank him and give him most of what little cash I had on me.


On the train, I listen to Myth by Beach House (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FuvWc3ToDHg) and try to write a grant submission to O'Bama's Brain Initiative. Even though the goal of our proposal was not new, the techniques and ideas were very novel, and I was extremely optimistic. I was also cautiously optimistic about re-uniting with my ex-girlfriend. Her last text said, "If you still want to get coffee when you come back from your meeting then coffee sounds good. And nothing is too late." 2015 will not be kind to those hopes, but there are other opportunities in the future - hopefully. This was my daughter's last semester of high school. There was still a lot of traveling to do.


I arrived at the concert about 30 minutes before it starts, and I was teleported into an alternate universe - the universe I left behind four years ago. I was hit between the eyes with the reality that my daughter is about to graduate high school. Her friends are driving and have become young adults. Time is a funny thing. It can go fast or slow, but time waits for no one. Everybody knows this, but I didn't truly appreciate that until my daughter's solo. Tears start. I am happy and sad all at once. It's over in a flash but will last a lifetime.


It is impossible to be perfect, to always make the right choices, and to not have regrets. I have done dumb things. I have done smart things. As I grow older, I was hoping to reduce the dumb things and increase the smart things. I realize now that is a bit too optimistic. That ratio is pretty much consistent. As I look back a year later on that trip, I am struck by the sense of hope I had in the future and in people, especially the kindness of strangers. Sometimes that hope is justified. Sometimes, it is not. However, I know now that as long as there is hope, I will act, and I will live. And every once in a while, I will get to hear my daughter sing.

An Important Discovery

It took me five years to graduate from college. A class that was required for my degree was not offered my senior year for a reason that I cannot recall. My fifth year was relatively light so I was able to do an internship at Eli Lilly & Co. I would spend three days a week doing the lab course at Indiana University in Bloomington and two days in Indianapolis.


The lab course involved using different growth media to select for specific bacteria from soil. The internship involved isolating a specific enzyme from a fungus. These projects were very different, but the thought process and strategies employed were remarkably similar. Understanding that vastly different projects can potentially benefit one another has been a valuable life lesson.


The final for the lab course involved developing an independent research project. There had been a slight spike in the cases of tuberculosis caused by Mycobacteria that year. Earlier in the semester we had tried to isolate Mycobacteria from soil using wax from candles. I got one potential positive. No one else in the class got anything. Basically, it didn't work. So I decided to try to make a different version.


I knew only three things about Mycobacteria. They can grow in 5% salt solution which is kind of high. They can tolerate a broad pH spectrum, and they can convert urea to ammonia. I couldn't figure out how to take advantage of these properties. I was going to grow the bacteria at different pH's, but their are millions of bacteria in the soil that do better at different pH. I didn't think that would work. I remember writing these things on the chalk board as I talked to a class mate when it hit me, my very first scientific insight. The urease would convert urea to ammonia which would raise the pH of the media. If I started the culture in high salt solution at low pH in the presence of urea, I could get the bacteria expressing urease to increase the pH naturally over a period of time. Only bacteria with high salt tolerance expressing urease that resisted large changes in pH would survive, i.e., Mycobacteria. It was so simple and yet somehow elegant, at least to me. I know. I'm a geek, but I was really excited.


Since I was traveling back and forth to Indy, I did not see the results until late at night. It didn't work. Only one type of bacterium grew, a relative of Mycobacteria. This new medium was able to selectively grow one type of bacterium from soil. Even though it failed, it was an astounding success. I had contributed something new. I love science. I was so happy. And then the janitor walked in. The sense of loneliness was almost overwhelming. I realized at that moment that no matter what successes or failures I experience, the most important thing to me was having someone to share these things with. With the understanding that vastly different projects can benefit one another, I also realized that other people sharing their successes and failures with me was just as important. While the result is important, the path is more so (and way more interesting). It doesn't really matter what the field is. Whether I am the teller or the listener, sharing makes things more real and easier to cope with.


Fast forward to Korea. The past three years of research have been the best in my career. The insights are coming at a frequency that surprises me. Like the example above, the results are rarely what I expect. They have been consistently better. We made one of the fastest fluorescent sensors of neuronal activity ever seen. We have made a biosensor that can manipulate and monitor the interior pH of a cell (http://www.nature.com/articles/srep23865). We are seeing things that no one has ever seen before (http://www.edaily.co.kr/news/NewsRead.edy?SCD=JE41&newsid=02345206609235752&DCD=A00504&OutLnkChk=Y). It is great fun and very exciting. Yet the experience in an undergraduate lab course late at night, long ago still applies. The results may be important (or not), but it is the people that really matter. I was very fortunate to have for a short period of time someone special to share those experiences with. I was very happy I got a chance to thank her in a small but highly significant way (at least to me). A life-long dream came true. I am grateful. Now, if you will excuse me, I really need to hear a good story. The janitor has arrived.

Dating (Take 2)

Dating is not easy no matter what country you are in. Thank goodness, because that would just be boring. A movie where two people fall in love and everything works out perfectly would put everyone to sleep. Of course difficult isn't exactly a joy either, but it makes for some pretty good stories.

Being single in a foreign country has some advantages. For one I'm the foreigner with the cool accent. Well, at least I stand out. I don't think Hoosiers' accents have ever been regarded as cool. Another advantage is that when things don't work out, I can blame the differences in culture. Boy, have I been blaming the differences in culture.

Let's return to Seoul Pub where two Korean ladies are being entertained by the owner's magic tricks. Three older westerner guys join the ladies in the shot game. They ask me to join.

"No thanks, I have to work tomorrow."

"So do we."

"What do you do?"

"We're pilots." Great. I guess when you have an overnight lay over there isn't much else to do but go have a drink at the pub. Not the most comforting thought, but they were fun to talk to. During that conversation, one of the ladies is approached by some young European hipster. She smiles at me.

"He wants to talk to my friend and I," she says to me. I nod. A few minutes later she goes to his table. One of the pilots suggests that she might have wanted to talk to me. Way too subtle, and I'm also extremely dense. So I finish my beer and prepare to leave. As I pass her table, I introduce myself to the hipster and offer her my card. "I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk. Maybe next time."

Two days later we are having coffee. She is a science teacher. Yes! She hates kids. What? I ask her why she is a teacher. "Because I am a teacher."

The subject changes to...plastic surgery. Seoul is a mecca for plastic surgery. Some estimates claim 80% of the women in Seoul have had some form of plastic surgery. I was on a date once with a woman who had her eyebrows tattooed. When she arched her eyebrows, two became four. Anyway, she wants to tighten her cheeks. She talks about her friend who she was with that night at Seoul Pub. "She got a nose job...", her eyes light up. "You should date my friend!" Uhm, that really wasn't where I thought the conversation was going to go.

"I don't want to date your friend. I would like to have dinner with you." She accepts.

Fifteen minutes before the dinner, I get a phone call. "Would it be okay if my friend joins us?" I agree but now I really don't want to go. Her friend's nose job was not very good. A Korean friend tells me not to worry.

"This sort of thing is normal. It might even be a good sign that she wants her friends to meet you." Sometimes, I think I'm told things just to make me feel better.

I arrive at the restaurant and she motions me to our table. When I get there she introduces me to her MALE friend, "This is ____.  Isn't he cute? He's gay." It turns out he also couldn't speak English. I'm often clueless, but this was a whole new level. I couldn't figure out if she was trying to set me up with him or was trying to feel more comfortable on a date with a foreigner. It didn't really matter. I sat there in a daze listening to their Korean. Then she gets a phone call.

"My cousin will be joining us," she says as she hangs up. Of course. Why not? "Don't worry, she dates lots of foreigners." Once I realized that this train was bound for la-la land, I had a good time. We went for drinks afterwards, played darts, and danced. I never went on another date with her, though. I was too afraid of what might happen. Cultural differences can be really significant sometimes.

Tenure

I made tenure after a year and a half. That is an absurd statement, but it is true. I am a tenured professor in the Republic of Korea. From the song Once in a Lifetime by the Talking Heads:

'You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
You may find yourself in another part of the world
You may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
You may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife
You may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?'

Amen to that question.

It turns out the answer begins in March of 2009. On a rainy Friday a few of my friends met up for a drink after work. One of them was the director of a research institute who brought his umbrella thinking it was going to rain. When a table opened up, we grabbed it. A few minutes later, a very pretty young woman came to our table carrying an umbrella. "Did somebody forget this?", and then she walked away.

I was the only single person at this table having gotten divorced a few months earlier. I was really having trouble going out since I had been away from the dating game for a very long time. Anyway, I had a thought that to me was funny. "Yeah right, I bet she took your umbrella so she could come over to meet me." Another friend looks at me, asks for the umbrella, and leaves. He quickly returned and we continued drinking.

About ten minutes later, "Did someone forget this umbrella again?" Oh my God. He had told her that I was a really good guy and that she should meet me. I have the best friends. They are amazing, and when I had no idea what to say they all picked up the slack. This group effort resulted in getting her phone number.

When I called, it sort of went like this scene from Swingers:
 

 
It wasn't quite that painful. When I got her voice mail I said," Hey this is Brad. When you're free perhaps we can get some wings. My phone number is... oh my God, I've forgotten my phone number." Click.

Smooth. So smooth. I retold this story at work to my young friends across the hall. They had never seen Swinger's so I lent them the movie. They thought it was hilarious, and we started hanging out.

One night we were at a student lounge. I was talking to a woman who had taken cooking courses at Notre Dame University. Being from Indiana, I was money.

"I should teach you how to cook. It's fun."

"That would be great. The last time my daughter and I tried to cook, it didn't go so well."

And she was gone. Oh well, I was in the land of the twenty somethings. It wasn't surprising. As I was about to leave, one of my young friends stops me.

"You can't leave yet. I just met the most amazing woman in the bathroom." It takes me a few seconds to understand why I am having trouble comprehending him.

"Yeah, I was too drunk to use the men's room upstairs, so I used the women's. She was in the stall next to me. She is amazing."

She was indeed amazing. For a brief period in time we were really in love. Unfortunately, we were going to be long distance since she was starting a nonprofit to help support orphans in Nepal. I didn't want to do long distance, but I would have gone anywhere to be with her. And then I got an offer in Seoul. It wasn't Nepal, but it was as close as I could get.

While that relationship didn't survive the long distance, there was no way I could have made this move without the emotional connection I had with her at the time. I could not have done it alone. I would have been too afraid, and I would not have gotten tenure.

"You may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?"

A kind act returns an umbrella, a friend uses the wrong restroom, and I get tenure. I love the paths in life.

Dating, Take 1

" I'm sorry. I just can't do this anymore."

The apartment darkens as the computer screen shuts down.

Those were the last words she ever spoke to me. They still haunt me even though it has been over a year. Everyone agrees (myself included) that I should move on. Everyone agrees that the best way to do that is to find someone new. Okay, here we go.

A little history. A few months after I was divorced a friend convinced me to join an online dating service. Your first matches are free. I was immediately enamored with a trapeze artist in New York City. I mean, she was a trapeze artist. Actually, I think she was some guy who works at eHarmony.com. Can you say bait?

Well, anyway, I signed on. It was actually fun. Many of my matches were in New York, so I would take the train to the City. It was all rather romantic. I would have a drink or dinner and meet some of the strangest people on the planet. One was a Brazilian-Haitian Mormon. That's right. There are less than four of them on the planet. She was very pretty and fun. I finally asked her how she became a Mormon.

"They came to my door."

Conclusion - you never know what is going to work. So when I saw an ad online for Koreancupid.com I joined. A little more history. My Freshman year in college I wrote a 'dating' program to match people up in our dorm. Some guys on my floor had the idea and generated a questionnaire with simple questions like 'what color eyes do you like?'. The response was rather impressive. If I had any business sense... oh, well, Facebook wasn't to happen for another 20 years.

These guys had no way of matching the responses, so they asked me if I could write a program. That was way beyond my ability (and still is), but I had a program that could grade tests. By using one questionnaire as the key we could match the people that had the most similar answers. Of course, that meant matching guys who liked red heads to women that also liked red heads. Not perfect (they had something in common), but I think it is better than Koreancupid.com.

Indeed, Koreancupid.com is basically random. For instance, I am looking for someone between the ages of 35-50. Most of my matches are 28-32 who are looking for someone 25-38. Okay, I'm looking for someone who can speak English. A large percentage (maybe 40%) have no English skills. Okay, I guess I'm just looking for interesting profile pictures. The winner was a very pretty young lady with a tattoo on her arm that read 'Respect Grandma'. I know this culture respects its elders, but really?

Another winner was an extremely attractive lady who wrote one sentence in her bio. "I am transgender." My first thought was one of thanks for saving me the embarrassment of contacting him/her. My second thought was one of fear, not knowing if all transgenders were so forthright.

Oh, the joys of dating. Don't worry. It gets better.   

Elections! Dance Off, Baby!

I love to dance. Given the moves I've learned in Korea (http://ahoosierinkorea.blogspot.com/2012/01/talent-show-bizarre-twists-part-2.html), I think you can see why. Of course I have always loved to dance even back in high school. There is something just hilarious about the moves we try on the dance floor. It is great fun.

In 2010 I was first exposed to the 'Dance Off'. I went to a movie featuring dance battles, Step Up 3D. Oh my, the story line was absurdly predictable. The acting was pretty thin, and some of the effects were ridiculous (a slurpy defying gravity?). But the dancing was incredible (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=89TLbK6o-og) and in 3D! That was such a special moment. It was aw....aw....awesome. Surprisingly, it also prepared me for my adventures in Korea.

"Some people learn to dance. Others are born to." Koreans are born to dance. There is no question of that. The dance clubs here have so much energy. More than once I have found myself in a friendly dance off sharing moves with the locals. A circle of strangers getting their move on. It is absolutely hilarious and great fun if not kind of odd. That was until it was time for Korean elections.

Last week as I was walking to work when three Koreans dressed in a numbered uniform walked by and flashed me the victory sign. My friend told me they were campaigning for the Korean elections. I know nothing about politics here, and with the U.S. having gone completely crazy politically I was not keen to follow Korean politics until I was told there was dancing.

I am sorry to say that I do not have good video of this campaign season, so I am resorting to YouTube.

The dancing, I mean campaign, can get quite serious.

And then there was dancing in the streets.

Now, I didn't witness this, but apparently sometimes opposing campaigns will be on opposite sides of the street. Are you ready to battle?

I can't help but love this country. I thought dancing at baseball games was cool but campaign dancing takes it to a whole new level. Come to Korea and get your groove on.

Pronunciations

In graduate school I had a Turkish lab mate who would boast about his English. "The Turkish accent allows us to speak better English than Americans." The next day there was a note on my bench from him:

Bred,
The business office called.

Sali

At least he spelled my name the way he pronounced it. The same thing happens here. Often when someone hears my name they just start cracking up. Last Friday a lab upstairs celebrated their grand opening. Here is a conversation I have had more than once. (A side note: syllables in Korean are consonant-vowel-consonant or consonant-vowel. My name is pronounced Ba-rah-da-lee)

"Ah, excuse me. Your name tag says  Ba-rah-da-lee Baker," says a young lady who can barely control her laughter. "Can I call you that?"

"Of course. That's my name."

"You're a Bread Baker!" she exclaims as she nearly collapses from laughing. Their English is good enough to know bread baker, but it is not good enough to differentiate Brad from bread. Awesome.

I also have a pronunciation problem with taxi cab drivers. I work at the Korea Institute for Science and Technology commonly known as KIST. There is another institute, the Korean Advanced Institute for Science and Technology known as KAIST. My institute has a short i vowel sound. The advanced institute has a long i vowel sound. KAIST is more prestigious (it is advanced after all). KAIST is in the news more. Indeed, science is on the news so much here that the camera crews bring actors to play scientists when reporting on something at work. Absolutely amazing.

Anyway, everytime I tell someone I work at KIST, they say, "KAIST, very prestigious." This has led to my new motto, "F KAIST," which is always thought but never spoken (okay, sometimes spoken softly). But then one night I gave my business card to a cab driver to take me home.

"Oh, KAIST. Nay, nay." Nay is yes in Korean. He took me home no problem, and I realized it was a pronunciation problem just like my name. Most Koreans English isn't good enough to differentiate KIST from KAIST. Good, from then on I would just say I worked at KAIST and save everyone the effort of trying to explain the difference.

The next night I went to a dance club with a friend. The dance clubs here are amazing, but I am really too old for that scene. Still, dancing with Koreans is an absolute blast, so I went. The place was packed. My friend runs into someone he knows and they start dancing. I drink my beer wedged near two tables which gives me a place to stand as masses of humanity try to move to and from the bar.

"Hello," she said as she tried to get by.

"Hello," I am such a witty conversationalist. A few minutes later...

"Hello, again. I am trying to find my friends," she explained as she tried to retrace her path.

"Good luck," I said this time adding a smile. A few minutes later...

"I still haven't found my friends."

"I haven't seen them," I said as I watch her go back to the bar for the third time.

The table next to me ordered some drinks that came in an ice bucket. In a rather rapid succession this is what followed. A Korean woman came up to me, danced for about 10 seconds, rubbed my head, grabbed a piece of ice, put it in her mouth and kissed me transferring the ice cube in the process. And then she was gone. I just stood there in shock partly due to what had just happened and partly due to the fact that the ice cube was freezing. Apparently, an ice cube in the mouth can be rather debilitating. Fortunately, I was shaken from my stupor.

"Hey, I found one of my friends." Indeed she had. I found myself talking to two of the more attractive women at the club. Yeah, life makes sense. "So what do you do?" she asks me as we begin to dance.

"I work at KAIST."

Her eyes go wide. "You work over an hour away! Really? I used to travel back and forth from KAIST and KIST. That's a long trip.We are chemical engineers. I used to work for Pfizer."

I've tried to calculate the odds of me telling the first person I work at KAIST to be a chemical engineer at a dance club who had worked at both KAIST and KIST, but my head nearly explodes. This place is absolutely crazy... in a good way generally. Indeed, I might blog in the near future about an actual experiment since I am meeting more and more scientists.

Good Story Telling - A Short Intro to Korean Movies

I love a good story. I really love good story telling. It is an art that I got a glimpse of long ago when I took acting lessons (http://ahoosierinkorea.blogspot.com/2011/10/million-strangers-with-million-stories.html). Whether sitting around a campfire or in front of a 60 inch TV, a good story is just a joy. In today's post I hope to convince you to experience some Korean story telling. It can be really good.

In 2010 I had the privilege of meeting an independent movie maker who is Korean American. He had just completed a short film entitled Underground Sonata (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gRaaBiRo5Lo). A detective reunites with a long lost love. Unfortunately, that reunion is the result of an illegal weapons sting; his lost love has become a weapon trafficker. That is a really good premise, but what I really loved about this short was the way the story was told. Using cut scenes and flashbacks, the characters were developed without disturbing the rhythm of the movie. I think having only 14 minutes and a shoestring budget actually helped this process. He had to be extremely efficient which necessitated a lot of creativity. Or perhaps his creativity resulted in an efficient story line. Regardless of cause and effect, it is a really good short that I highly recommend (http://www.amazon.com/Underground-Sonata-Arun-Storrs/dp/B003OUXH94/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1327331103&sr=8-1).

The reason I relate the Underground Sonata short is not because the film maker is Korean American. It is because when you have limited resources you can not afford to lose track of the story. I enjoy a good block buster with explosions, chase scenes, and great special effects, but those movies run the risk of focusing on those special effects at the expense of telling the story. My sampling is not that large but the Korean movies that I have seen to date are simple stories that are beautifully done. Like Underground Sonata, the focus is on the story.

I have already described in a previous post a scene from the 2010 movie Come, Closer (A Million Strangers with a Million Stories, part 1) in which a Korean woman listens to a random stranger on the phone  (http://www.hancinema.net/korean_movie_Come_v__Closer.php#pictures). I loved that scene. I don't know much about the rest of the movie since there were no English subtitles. Here is a link to the trailer (with English subtitles): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMsmKX9B0ws). A note about the subtitles - sometimes the translation is not perfect. I actually like that since it forces me to interpret what is meant. I can't be a passive observer.

The next movie can be watched completely on youtube with English subtitles. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring is a 2003 movie by Kim Ki-duk. This movie shows five different phases in the life of a Buddhist monk, but not in a way you would expect. Quoting Kim Ki-duk, "I intended to portray the joy, anger, sorrow and pleasure of our lives through four seasons and through the life of a monk who lives in a temple on Jusan Pond surrounded only by nature." I think you will be surprised that this is a modern day story.

The movie is very slow yet rather abrupt. The scenery is spectacular. Roger Ebert put this movie on his great movie list. I was only so-so about it until the final scenes which sent shivers down my spine. As I write this post, I have watched some of the scenes again. I missed a lot of the analogies the first time. And I am sure I am still missing many more. That is okay. It is a good story. Here is a link to get you started: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l60PamQWMZA

The next movie is another Kim Ki-duk movie called 3 Iron. Do not google this movie or Kim Ki-duk for that matter. There is an extraordinary scene in this movie. It is so extraordinary that it is hard not to see the scene or a particular image from the scene before watching the movie. In the opening scene a guy goes around posting flyers on house hold doors. Those flyers that aren't removed become targets for him to rob since no one is home. This is a thief of hearts story and that is all I will say about it. Here is a link to the opening scene: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5oN6IMV8g8

The last movie I will talk about today is a 2011 movie by Choi Ik-hwan entitled Mama which can also be seen with English subtitles on youtube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GgnZC5pAwEY). This movie is about the relationships of three mothers with their sons or daughters. This is one of the most touching movies I have ever seen. The opening scene shows pictures in a photo album. As the pages are turned, we see pictures of moms in various stages of their lives with the following captions:

Some one who drives me crazy (the page turns)

Who fills me with fear (the page turns)

Who's thrifty (the page turns)

Who prefers cash to flowers (another picture)

Who only likes my brother (another page)

Who loves me more than I love myself (the page turns again)

Who embarrasses me (yet again)

Whom I don't want to resemble (the page turns)

The first word of a lifetime (the page turns)

MAMA

I hope from those captions you can sense a degree of surprise. Not everything is positive and not every story has a happy ending... or maybe it does. I find it hard to predict what will happen in these movies.

One of the things I really like about movies (and stories in general) is how universal they are. We all share the same dreams, fears, troubles, and joys. I do not get the sense that these movies are made to make a lot of money. They seem to be made to tell a story. And they do it very well. As such, they have brought me great joy. I hope the same will go for you. Here's to good story telling no matter what the language.

When One Door Closes... (Bizarre Twists part 2)

I used to believe in fate. I liked the idea of a grand plan in which I played an important role. Life was simply me trying to figure out that role. I'm still working on that role, but I have given up on the grand plan. Instead, there are a million different paths that lead to some extraordinary experiences.

Today's post is a result of having lost a basketball game (http://ahoosierinkorea.blogspot.com/2011/09/im-mercenary-bizarre-twists-part-1.html). I was rather upset and venting to whomever was in earshot.

"Our department has no representation on Sports Day."

"There is always the talent show," said a secretary in the business office. "I've signed up to do a belly dance."

I immediately asked her if she needed backup dancers. You see, I have always wanted to be a 'Pip'. That might sound strange until you watch Gladys Knight and the Pips perform 'Midnight Train to Georgia' (especially at the 1:10 mark, woo hoo!).

Once she agreed I was off to find partners in crime. I already knew my Japanese colleague could dance (see http://ahoosierinkorea.blogspot.com/2011/11/when-in-doubt-high-five-strangers-and.html). Another colleague had suffered a similar 'coaching' experience on the soccer field; he was in. We pressured our Iranian friend to join. Whenever he wants to make a strong statement he says, "Thank you very much!" as he puts his arm straight out with his hand up to signal there is nothing more to be said. We all do that now. We also took advantage of the new post-doc from Ghana. What can I say? He was new.

It turned out that our lead dancer is quite talented and modified a dance to a very popular K-pop song, 'Roly Poly'. We had a week to prepare. I was warned the first practice might be strenuous. It was definitely hilarious. Teaching us was like herding cats.

And then a miracle happened. Sports day was canceled due to weather. Too bad because we had gotten quite good (yeah, right.) Anyway, two weeks later the Brain Science Institute had a retreat to promote closer interactions between the various departments. The retreat was out in the boonies with traditional Korean accommodations (you sleep on the floor).

I actually had a really good time. There was one science talk, one Korean folk music talk (in Korean), a poster session, an adventure trail, a version of paint ball, and of course a talent show.

High bridge leading to a zip line

Paintball without paint in a fake city with real cars

We signed up for the talent show. There had been rumors that another dance group was doing the same song, but one of them hurt her knee so they didn't perform. There were two other entrants, a band performing Justin Bieber and a soloist violin player. We were the final act. After our lead dancer did her belly dance, this is what followed (note: our Iranian dropped out. I really can't blame him).

I love the posters in the background. We won 50,000 won gift certificates for our efforts. I don't think the Koreans have laughed that hard in a long time. The crowd started chanting encore, but we were having too much fun backstage showing off our winnings.

Needless to say, we were a huge hit. A few weeks later another talent show was announced to mark the anniversary of the institute. This time we prepared another song just in case the audience wanted another encore. I think it is safe to say that we were quite taken with ourselves.

Our new song was another K-pop song that translates to 'Having an affair'. It starts off with a phone call. In Korea there are several mascot balloons used in advertising whose arms flail about to get your attention. I mention that to sort of explain the next video.

This effort won us 100,000 won gift certificate. We are no longer considered amateurs. I think that is rather obvious (I hope the sarcasm translates here). I do fear for the future of the group. I'm considering a solo endeavor (those guys are just holding me back). And of course there is the documentary of when scientists go bad.

Anyway to wrap things up, it amazes me how losing a basketball game set off quite a series of events. Sometimes a loss results in a win. When one door closes, another door opens. Good God, close that door quickly. Those guys think they can dance.  I would have been such a good 'Pip'.

When in Doubt, "High Five" (Strangers and Stories part 2)

"Seoul is the grinning devil on your shoulder that whispers 'play'. Its teeming night markets, 24-hour barbecues and surging clubs all beg the question 'Why sleep?' - The opening sentence in Lonely Planet's Seoul City Guide

For the past few months I have been on a quest for experiencing as much of this city as I possibly can. Some have called it over-compensating, others a need for distractions. Whatever. Some of these experiences are so strange I have no idea what to do. Usually, I just let my loss for words communicate my complete confusion. Not this time.

A while back a scientist from Japan visited our department to give a seminar. Whenever a visiting scientist gives a seminar, the rest of his or her time is scheduled to meet with faculty to discuss science one-on-one. At night a few faculty are selected to take the speaker to dinner. I was one of those selected.

We went to a Bulgarian restaurant in Itaewon which was very good. At the end of the meal we were discussing what we should do next. Since we were in Itaewon, it was decided I should choose our next destination. Clearly a sign that I spend too much time in Itaewon.

"What do you feel like?" I ask.

"Something Korean. Something that will make an impression."

Well, I am not the greatest Korean ambassador, but when it comes to making impressions I know just the place, Seoul Pub. Seoul Pub defies description, but I will try. I have already posted about the owner's magic tricks and drinking games. It can be a fun place. You also meet a most diverse clientele. Palestinians have bought me shots. I met a man from Guiana. He introduced me to a Jordanian who crashed and burned with the ladies like no one I have ever seen. One night my friend from Guiana took an interest in two Russian ladies sitting at the bar. We had been watching the Russians reject approach after approach once they got a cigarette from the guy.

"Okay, I'm going in," says our Guiana friend as he takes a seat next to them.

I lose track of him as a very attractive Korean woman next to our booth is also rejecting every approach in dramatic fashion. She had been making the 'x' sign with her arms, sticking her tongue out, and dropping her head into her hands. There was a lot to watch. Eventually, no one approaches the Korean woman any more. So, she decides to approach some westerners. Unfortunately, one of the guys must have said something that she didn't like because she took her beer and poured it onto his lap.

"Oh my God! She pushed him," says a companion as I turn to see our Guiana friend lying flat on his back with his arms and legs flailing about. One of the Russian ladies tried to push his chair away and succeeded. Welcome to Seoul Pub.

Since the official part of the evening was over, I decided to take our visitor from Japan to Seoul Pub. He did want an impression. When we got there it was sort of quiet, so we sat at the bar. The owner started doing his magic tricks, and our visitor was impressed. Then we started playing the dice game where the loser pays for a round of shots. After seven rounds of shots we were feeling pretty good.

My colleague's dance got the applause of a group of musicians sitting at a booth behind us. There were four Korean musicians, one very attractive lady who turned out to be a singer, an elderly gentleman who was her producer, an elderly lady who was her manager, and a young guy who was the producer's assistant. How did I learn this? Well, a few minutes later the singer comes to the bar to order a round of drinks. She then grabs my arm and drags me to her booth. What followed was one of the strangest conversations I have had.

Their English was very poor so we would try to translate with our phones which was hilarious. I was having a great time trying to communicate. The record producer had spent a little time in the States and was able to find a song the singer sitting next to me was known for on the internet. She plugged in her earphones and handed one to me. We then sat there listening to her sing the theme song of a Korean TV drama. It was easy to forget about everyone else especially since she started to caress my back and rub my legs. She was very friendly, and I was having a great time.

It turns out that she is a Korean pop star named Navi. Here are some pictures from the internet.

Navi is on the left with her duet partner.

An advertisement that shows how she looked that night.

And here are some links of her performances.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jv2QZ9FKrE&feature=related


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNLgNtAslLQ

Of course, all good things must come to a close. Navi was leaning against me with her head on my shoulder when she whispered she needed to use the rest room. After she left the booth, the producer's assistant says to me, "This is her mom." Thank God I hadn't taken a drink because I would have spit it all over him. Her manager was also her mom! There seemed to be a very long silence. Then I did the only thing that came to mind. When in doubt..."High five!" I said to the mom. And then Navi's mom high-fived me. I don't even want to know what was going through the mom's mind.

Navi returned as though nothing had happened. My friends came by the booth letting me know they where headed home. I decided that was probably a good idea. I got her number and a good night kiss...in front of the mom. Awkward. I have texted her a few times once in Korean. No response. I guess the mom didn't like me. It wouldn't be the first time.

Beer for Orphans

A friend has started a nonprofit to help send orphans from Nepal to school. In an effort to help the holiday fund drive the next round is on me. If you donate $5 I will buy you a beer the next time I see you. For my friends in Indiana, I will be in the Hoosier state Dec. 21-28. I will most likely buy you a beer anyway, but there is just something about helping education by having a beer that appeals to me.

http://thekumariproject.bellstrike.com/

Happy Holidays

I'm a Mercenary! Bizarre Twists Part 1

I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray...

'The Layers' - Stanley Kunitz 

Korea constantly reminds me that I have no idea what the future has in store. Lately, I have been wondering if I had known I would end up in Korea would I have continued on that path. The question is moot, but I like thinking about it. Before I had a job offer in Korea, I was seriously considering changing fields. I wanted to become a teacher and coach basketball. I've also wanted to be a politician, an actor, and a scientist. 'I have walked through many lives, some of them my own..." Ultimately, I know I would have continued along this path because I would never have believed anyone who told me what my future had in store.

I learned long ago that life is way more creative than I am. That belief makes me a little reluctant to impose my dreams on reality. That's not to say I haven't tried, but that usually ends in disaster. May of 2011 is a great example of just how disastrous that can be. Today's post is a minor example of the wonderful and bizarre twists life can throw at you.

Our institute has many events throughout the year. One of the biggest is Sport's Day. There is a soccer tournament, a basketball tournament, and a talent show. Yet another email:

Dear Brad,

 

Thank you for joining our basketball team.

So far, we’ve got 8 members in total including you.

Our first game is on next Thursday from 12:10 PM.

 

Brief rule is as following,

Game period: 30 min with a half time.

When the game is tied, extra 3 min applies.

The rest follows NBA rules.

Ah, NBA rules. Excellent. Two days before our first game we have a practice. Since I am the only foreigner on the team I am worried about my ability to communicate. After meeting the players I ask them, "How do you say 'pass' in Korean?"

"Pass."

"Okay, how do you say 'shoot' in Korean?"

"Shoot."

Damn! I know way more Korean than I thought. Practice was fun. Since I was the tallest, the coach designated me as the starting center. That's right. At 45, I am the starting center for the Brain Science Institute basketball team. There are some potential problems, however. For instance, this is a full court game, and I am out of shape. They also play a zone defense. What happened to NBA rules? Oh well, let's lace 'em up!

The day of the game, the coach tells me the other team is commenting on how we have hired a 'mercenary' from the States. I'm not sure who our competition was. I think it was Biomedical Engineering, but it could have been Robotics or Metalochemistry, ... the giants. Anyway, I felt compelled to live up to that title so I suggest we play a 1-3-1 offensive set to attack the 2-3 zone everyone plays. This puts all of the offensive players in the gaps of the zone. The coach agreed until an old guy showed up and just took over. Welcome to Korean culture where you are to respect your elders. The new coach reluctantly agreed to the 1-3-1 and promptly made himself point guard.

I don't care what set you are in, if you telegraph your passes against quick Koreans it's not going to end well. He turned the ball over five times before declaring the 1-3-1 set a failure. He only turned the ball over four times running a 2-1-2 set. Even though we gave up a lot of fast break points we were only down 2 with 14 seconds to go. They had the ball so we fouled to put them at the line. The 'senior' coach tells us to throw a long pass since there are only 14 seconds. I've had enough, "NO! It only takes 5 seconds to dribble the length of the court. Don't make a stupid pass that can be easily intercepted!" He took me out. Apparently, he understood English. We lost by four.

Even though I was happy with my performance given my physical conditioning or lack there of, I was pissed. I try to respect the culture here, but for someone who doesn't know what he is doing to show up, take control, and cost us the game infuriated me. Perhaps I was trying too hard to show my value to my colleagues. That basketball game was my first chance to really do that. God forbid we actually do an experiment (that situation is improving though). As a result, I was complaining to everyone I saw. "We should have won that game. If we hadn't turned the ball over so often we would be playing for the championship. Now, our department has no representation on Sports day."

To which a secretary in the business office replies, "There is still the talent show."

To be continued...

Please Don't Barf: A Trip to the Korea Medical Institute

Usually, when I get an email that is in English it is serious:

Dear All,  

  

KIST has arranged a medical examination for the all employees.

You can choose any date during 1st of Sep. - 30th of Nov. unless the center isn't available.

You can check the medical center's availability when you book online. 
Korea has universal health care. Since the health care debate (I use that term loosely) still simmers in the U.S., I thought I would share with you my experiences here.

I was very sadden when the community meetings to debate health care in the U.S. degraded into death panel scares. I had been very optimistic since doctors, hospitals, health insurers, pharmaceutical companies, and patient's rights lobbyists were all ready to join the dialogue. How that was turned into 'Obama-care sucks' amazes me. It may well be true that Obama-care sucks. Sadly, the debate never really happened. To me, forcing everyone to buy health care insurance doesn't seem quite right, but since that was a provision to prevent insurance companies from denying coverage, I didn't really mind it. Perhaps there is a better way. That was sort of the purpose of the town hall meetings. Sadly, all I remember from that was how there were going to be death panels.

I have been to the clinic a couple of times in Korea. Both times I told the doctor what was bothering me. He examined me and put me on antibiotics for a week. I was in the Doctor's office less than 10 minutes. The pharmacy charged me 3,000 won ($3) for the antibiotics.

Preventive medicine is very important here which is what today's post is really about. This morning was my medical examination, and what an examination it was. To begin I was told not to eat or drink anything after 9 p.m. the night before. Of course that meant that I was dying of thirst. I arrived at the clinic around 8 a.m. I am given a form to fill out. My favorite question was:

Have any of your family died of the following:
a: Stroke b:Cancer c:Heart disease d:Kidney failure e:other

Unless all of your family is still alive, I'm guessing 'e' is chosen the most. The other questions were if you smoke or drink and how often.

Once that was turned in, I was sent to the locker room where I changed into hospital robes. The clinic is sort of in the shape of a 'T' where the base is the registration and the top is the waiting room. The waiting room is pretty large with several doors to small examination rooms adjoining it. Welcome to the assembly line.

My first examine was an EKG. Then I was ushered into the next room for a glaucoma test. In the next room I had an inhalation test. This was followed by my height measurement, weight, blood pressure, eye examine, balance test, and a hearing test. Whoa, and we were just getting started. They take some blood and then had a sonogram of my abdomen, thyroid and prostrate. In the next room I met with a doctor. She asked me if I had any discomforts or questions. I was with her for less than 5 minutes. I bypass the pap smear room and the mammogram room. Then it was a scan of some sort starting at my head and ending at my pelvis. The next room was a chest x-ray.

The last room was the worst. I was given a large pixy stick and asked to swallow that quickly with a glass of water. This was followed by something like pepto-bismo. I nearly gagged. "Please don't barf," said the technician. I was instructed to stand against a platform. "Hold on, please." The platform tilted me back until I was laying down. "Please turn right. More. Please don't barf." All this time a machine was taking pictures of my GI tract. "Please turn left. More. Please don't barf."

After that ordeal I was told to urinate in a cup, transfer it to a test tube, get dressed and go home. I was there roughly two hours. That was the most thorough examine I have ever had. They do not mess around. I would estimate that there were roughly 50 people going through this process at once. I do not know how cost effective these procedures are, but there were no additional costs to me.

A list of the standard test. I guess I didn't want the fecal exam or the dental exam.

A list of additional tests. To convert to dollars divide by 1,000.

It was a very interesting experience. I cannot say whether this system is better than the U.S. or not. I will say that the Korean system is way more efficient. Of that there is no doubt.