Dust Off The Wings

Writing in my lab notebook last Friday, I was more than a little stunned when I realised that the date was August 10, marking one month since I’ve been living in the U.S. As I keep saying to my parents every time I call home, it’s hard to believe, given that it feels as though I’ve been here much longer. And I mean that in no negative way. I guess it might have a lot to do with being thrown into work so quickly, and hitting the ground running. One of the occupational hazards of working for a workaholic (great as my boss is), is that everyone of us is also expected to be one as well. If you could bottle my boss’s enthusiasm and gusto for research, it would be like bottling, say, your own enthusiasm and love for your favourite band/artist, and multiplying it 1000-fold.

I haven’t been here long enough, nor have I seen enough of the city, to say that I love it. But so far, I’ve got to say that I really do like it here – even despite the fact that the mercury has been tipping 100 oF during the last week or so, with little respite in the evenings. The pace of things in Atlanta is unlike that of any other U.S. city I’ve been to (that said, I haven't seen that many!). It’s on the east side of the country, but without the attitude or headiness of New York or Boston. And it’s got the relaxed feel of California, but an almost backwards-ness that you won’t find there either.

To paraphrase the Department of Homeland Security, as a “legal alien”, there are lots of things to potentially gripe about – like all the impediments to doing anything without a social security number (like setting up a power or gas account, getting a licence, setting up a bank account, buying a mobile phone), weird-coloured cheese (it’s kind of orange), refrigerated fruit (just plain wrong!), coffee cup sizes that are just way too big, people refusing to accept your $50 note but instead letting you pay for a coffee (~$3) by credit card (!), driving the wrong way, and having to speak so s.l.o.w.l.y just to make yourself understood, and also changing the type of grammar you use just to be understood. Before I left, many people were saying to me that I was lucky moving to a country where they speak English – sadly though, it’s a slightly different type of English. For example, jumpers don’t enter the U.S. but sweaters do (not that you’d need one in the middle of this heatwave anyway); asking for chips won’t get you anywhere (as I’ve discovered) but they’ll know what you’re talking about if you want French fries; you won’t find a shopping trolley anywhere but in its place you’ll find a cart; when asking if there was a public phone, I’ve been asked if I meant a pay phone…and on it goes.

More specific to Atlanta though, is the much-maligned public transport system here, MARTA (Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transport Authority). Rapid it ain’t! But as someone who doesn’t even like driving all that much back in Melbourne (and I’m still not sure I’m willing to tackle driving on the right-hand side of the road yet!), I’m still reasonably happy to commute everywhere by bus or rail. The way I look at it is that someone does the navigating for you, and it gives you a chance to take in what’s around you in the process. And in this heat, the temperature on all the buses is thankfully Arctic. There have been several occasions when I’ve been coming home from work (more often than not after another unsuccessful day – seriously, there are some days when I feel like a wrecking ball – experimentally, it’s like everything I touch is guaranteed not to work!) and feeling pretty grouchy. But the big thing that MARTA has going for it is its staff – the polite and friendly bus drivers are great. No matter how long you’ve been sitting around waiting for the bus, your ire is soon forgotten when you see it rolling along towards you. Interestingly, I haven’t seen one white bus driver yet. The Afro-American community in Atlanta is huge, and I’ve got to say that the only hints of rudeness or attitude that I’ve experienced here (though very few) have been from others.

Happily though, despite the relative lack of productivity workwise and Human Resources’ sluggishness at giving me a staff ID number, the lab I’m in is great (with the exception of only one freak – and in science, that’s quite a feat!). Very welcoming, easygoing, and inclusive – which takes some of the pressure off when you’re learning new things and feeling a little out-of-your-depth at times, trying to come to grips with all the new ideas and facts that your head is being stuffed with. And yes, I’ll try and post some pics (as soon as I’ve taken some!) up soon. Especially of these elusive little squirrels around my place!