June 2005 - Posts

Graduate Students

Janeth, Alex, and I met graduate students today. We decided to go to a BBQ for two recently graduated students. It was one of the best things we could have done.

Though I don't remember names very well, it might be to my advantage to leave out names anyway because some people don't like their stories and names put out on the internet. So I will randomly assign names to these people we met.

Seeing graduate students is a bit like seeing small kids in business suits. You wonder what reason could those kids possibly have to be wearing suits? They're kids, they should be playing. Well, it's the exact opposite with grad students. They are fully grown adults in their late twenties, yet they act like little kids, very smart little kids. Things I learned: Spanish is a kick-ass language and I'm lucky to be able to speak it with only the tiniest accent (well, that's a lie). One must work according to his morals or else he will suddenly find himself unhappy with what he is doing. Corporate America and its subsidiaries all over the world are money-grubbing weasels.

I know this because a graduate student here is doing urban planning as her major. If you've ever played SimCity, you know what she does. She is in charge of designing how a city will be built, how it will operate, how it will thrive as a community. It's a very complex major, so she is focusing on the political, legislative aspect. She is learning how to design rules and ordinances to keep a city under control and safe.

Anna, the name I have assigned to this graduate student, was telling us of a job she had after completing her MIT bachelor's degree with the pharmaceutical giant Glaxo Smith Kline. She loved her job because it was a high pressure environment where she was constantly using her knowledge to advance the interests of the company. But then, she was assigned to Singapore, I think, where she got to see a bit of the other side of the story. These big pharmaceutical companies exploit the indigenous people who collect the native plants to make these medicines in order to, of course, make money. And Anna realized that what she was doing was wrong, and she couldn't do it anymore. She is now eager to go to a specific third world country, I forget which one, to help create better structured societies of indigenous people that have been decomposing since the American businesses have treaded over their homelands. The thing I most remember that she said was this: "Whenever you are doing a job, the most important thing to ask yourself is: 'Am I morally square with what I am doing?' Because if I'm not, then one day I will look around and realize I have wasted several years of my life doing something I can't believe I ever did." And you won't be able to live it down.

A Blog Renewed

Consider this a new beginning to my blog.
This is primarily for the benefit of my parents, so that they can catch up with what I am doing and make sure I'm doing fine - although, considering my first day at Project Interphase, I might not be that fine.
Fortunately there were no hassles at the airport. I had to lug over a hundred pounds of luggage for about a mile around the airport before I found a Project Interphase rep, but that's the way it goes. I met Tyco and Hanzel on the way to MIT. Tyco is a tall, African-American male from California. He's into computers. Hanzel sounds like he's from Mexico or Puerto Rico. He's very white.
I almost immediately found Janeth. As soon as the elevator door opened on the fifth floor, there she was. She helped me settle into my room (a single!). Afterwards, we met up with a guy named Steven and walked around campus a little bit, looking for other Interphasers. All was to no avail. We ended up sitting on a couch in the Student Center.

After all of our planned activities, the night was scheduleless and free to use for whatever we needed. I needed a fan. Janeth and I decided to go to Target to acquire one. We walked to the Kendall T subway station about a half mile due east of our dorm. We took the T to the Orange Line crossing with the intent of taking the orange line down to Wellington. Due to construction, we were stopped one stop short. We had to take a bus the rest of the way. Keep in mind the night is continuing to fall as we do this. At the Wellington stop, we realized that we had to walk another half mile or so, crossing a busy bridge. It was around 10:00. We walked across, then down the street. We came upon the Target with its glowing red sign. The parking lot was mostly empty, but there were at least thirty cars in the parking lot. We walked up to the doors, expecting them to slide open, but they didn't. I glanced down at the store hours sign. It closed at 9 on Sundays. We had gone all the way to Target for nothing.

By this time, it had become 10:20. We decided to head back. We went back across the bridge to the bus station. We had no idea which bus to take, so we took the next one we found. After awhile, I became increasingly unsettled. It seemed like we were going the wrong way. I asked a passenger on the bus if this bus went to MIT. He said he had no idea. I asked the bus driver, and he laughed. Then he grimly told me I was going the wrong way. At the next stop he let us down and told us to walk back to the other station. I began panicking. It was around 10:40 and we were far from MIT with little knowledge of how to get back. I had no idea if we had curfew, but I knew the Interphase directors would not look kindly on students coming in late at night. Of course, the worst thoughts ran through my head: removal from Interphase, police sanctions, EXPULSION FROM MIT. Janeth was no help either. She kept making comments like, "I think there's no curfew, but I can't be sure."

We started to walk briskly, occasionally breaking into stride, back to where I thought we were supposed to go. I thought the guy meant the bus station, which was probably a mile and a half away. That was a long long way to walk so late at night. But as we were walking I remembered he had said something about a firestation. I stopped and looked around for a fire station and there one was. We crossed the street and as we came to the firestation we saw a bus stop and a bus coming up. As soon as it rolled up, I immediately asked the driver how to get to MIT. She said we were on the right bus, and to just take the orange line to Downtown Crossing where we would get off and take the Red line. I breathed a sigh of relief and we sat down. The ride seemed to take eternity, but that may be only because I kept looking at my watch and seeing the minutes tick by. It was 11:00 when we got to the station. We immediately pushed our way through, bought our tokens(in my hurry, I almost forgot to get eighteen dollars in change.), and got onto the subway, which rolled into the station a couple of minutes later. We got to the Red Line intersection and rushed to the platform. The Red line subway train did not get there for another ten minutes. We got on, and it was 11:20. We finally got to Kendall, and I breathed another sigh of relief. I was home. Truly, that was the first time I felt the profundity of being a part of this community. I am at home.

After an interminably long walk, we arrived at the steps of Burton-Conner. We slipped inside, took the elevator upstairs, and safely arrived at our dorm rooms.

Nothing became of our journey except the chance to learn about each other, about transporation in Boston, and about living another night without a fan. Two days later, I still have no fan.