Obama, president of the world

It has been quite a busy week around the world and here in Dunedin. On Wednesday morning I woke up at 5:30 am to watch the presidential inauguration with several other students in Carrington. I have never felt prouder to be an American. After Obama's speech we had a pancake breakfast to celebrate, and then I walked into work wrapped in an American flag, leading at least one driver to honk and wave. I hung the flag up on the window next to my lab bench. Everyone here is very excited to have Bush gone and Obama in, and I wasn't too surprised to see the inauguration amply referenced in NZ pop-culture, from television ads to radio shows.

Later on inauguration day I was informed that the Dean of Medical Sciences has offered to fund me in a masters program for the upcoming academic year. My application had been unsuccessful for the international masters scholarship, but it seems that because the scholarship was given to only three people she took pity on me. Given the status of the economy back in the States and the difficulty of finding a job there if I returned, I decided it was best to remain in Dunedin, which hopefully will provide sufficient time to take this project in my own direction. The decision to be away from home for a year was by no means trivial, however, as I miss everyone back home and Sunmi especially.

Also this week I went on my first two bike rides with other human beings. On Thursday evening I rode with Henry up North Road and down into Port Chalmers, then out to Aramoana, the site of New Zealand's deadliest shooting rampage in 1990 in which thirteen were killed. Henry had a road bike but was pedaling in sneakers on clipless pedals, which is quite a challenge, so we enjoyed the sunny evening and went at a relaxed pace.

Earlier in the week while playing basketball at the gym I met a very athletic guy named James who works in microbiology and is into rock climbing, skiing, mountaineering, and cycling. He told me about a ride yesterday at lunch time with his microbiology professor. So at 12:15 I headed down to the meeting place and introduced myself. There were two guys there, both named Greg, one was the professor and the other was a masters student. The professor came across as somewhat of a jerk. The first thing he said to me was that if I didn't keep up, they would drop me. I appreciated this as common practice in large group rides, but wouldn't think it to be the first thing one said to a new rider. Then at 12:15:00 James hadn't showed up yet, and the professor Greg insisted that we leave promptly without him, even though they had seen him dressed and ready to go a couple minutes ago and he had just went inside to get a snack.

So we set off and it became apparent rather quickly that if anyone was going to be dropped, it was going to be the Gregs. I reached the top of a long climb several minutes before them and waited. When they arrived they told me to go back down the hill to pick up James, who was attempting to catch us, while they continued ahead. So I got James and we rode up together but were not able to catch the Gregs and James and I got separated again. Then I saw one Greg on the way back, as he had turned around to go to a meeting. I went zooming down a hill and missed the turnoff where Greg had gone, so James had to go all the way down to find me, but by the time we got to the turnoff Greg was long gone and headed back to town. So it was rather a disaster of a group ride.

Last night James joined Jenny and I for karaoke, which is fast becoming our social activity of choice, and this night we had an added adventure. James's family is in the oil business, so he lived in Abu Dhabi, U.A.E. for twelve years. We walked into the bar and a short Arab guy casually asked James where he was from, and he mentioned the U.A.E. The Arab, who was named Yosef and also from the U.A.E., went absolutely nuts. "We are brothers!" he exclaimed. They reminisced and gave hugs and high fives and then he asked me where I was from. When I told him he replied, "Oh man, sorry about 9/11. Joking, joking." Then he insisted, "You must come join us." He already had a karaoke room and wanted to pay for us. "Give me six of your strongest drink," he yelled at the bartender. After Yosef had shelled out more than a hundred bucks on us, we all went up to his karaoke room and met his entourage consisting of several young Russian women. We sang karaoke for a bit, Yosef ordered us more drinks, strange people kept coming in and out, Yosef and James toasted to the U.A.E., and then rather abruptly everyone left. So we had a free karaoke room to ourselves for an hour.

It has been unseasonably hot the past few days, which I say without complaints to avoid animosity from readers in the northern hemisphere, and I have noticed large numbers of people walking through the streets barefoot. I was never much of a barefoot walker, I think because I place rather high value on my lower extremities.