I write this on the TGV—le train à grande vitesse, literally “the train of great speed”—from Paris to Geneva, losing myself in the melancholy ballads of Petra Marklund and wondering exactly what
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This article was originally written as a guest post for I Dig Culture, an international media channel that explores human cultural diversity and exchange. You can view the full article here. The
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오늘 아침에 수업에 갔다 오는 길에 뭔가를 본 것같았다… 좀 더 가까이 가고 보니… 아~아주 큰 곰돌이란 걸 알게 됐다! 그랬더니 예의있는 곰돌이 친구랑 사진을 찍을 수밖에 없었다~ Share
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It is only in the last few days that the principles governing my actions in this world have come to light with a clarity different from, and perhaps greater than, ever
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I encounter a deluge of frustrating microaggressions every day I am in Korea. Simply because I am white, I must be unable to speak Korean, use chopsticks, eat spicy food, keep my
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Once upon a time five years and about a month ago today, an overworked and underslept college student peered over her nearly finished dinner at a face that would change her life. This
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A small restaurant I pass every day on the way to my lab has a dog. It’s a medium-sized stocky yellowish fuzzy dog, with a face and build approximating something between a
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Note that this post is not titled “How to Have Skin Like A Korean.” Misplaced modifiers and ambiguous grammar notwithstanding (news flash: Koreans have skin, and so can you!), I avoided this
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Within my first week of arrival to Seoul last January, one of the first lessons with which I was inculcated as an intermediate Korean language student was that “한국 음식은
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Driven blindly by that regrettable desire for ever-richer experience, today I decided to practice mouse handling and dosing at one of my P.I.’s auxiliary laboratories. I met Park Taehee* at the other
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As a foreigner to Chinese, Korean, and Japanese friends, I seem to incite conversations on international topics more often than would seem the norm in strictly native circles. And, perhaps as
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One thing I’ve learned during my three-year adventure in Mandarin Chinese and now Korean is that throughout the course of developing proficiency in a new language, subconsciously picking up on
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No, I’m not talking about science classes (though those can sometimes be hard too). I’m talking about IRB-forms-signed-in-blood, strap-on-your-goggles-and-get-ready-to-kick-ass, thrown-out-to-sea-sucking-down-methanol laboratory science (and often its friendly cousin let’s-sit-behind-a-computer-and-spit-out-all-our-thoughts-into-SPSS dry lab science, but
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During a break in my immunology course on Thursday, our professor suddenly expressed her opinion that Ph.D. holders who choose to stay in a university setting and become science professors are
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My mice hate me. Of course, I would hate, as well, anyone who belonged to a giant hand that picked me up by the tail two to three times a day only
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