Supermarket Sweep!

Today being Saturday i had actually managed to arrange my experiments so i have a pretty easy day - makes a change! This gave me enough time to head into town for a wander and also call by the supermarket (or Superstore!) to pick up a few odds and sods - i'm planning on wowing my colleagues with some baking on Monday so had to get the essentials. Anyway, there are quite a few to choose from. We've heard of WalMart in the UK (the huge chain that took over Asda) but there's also K-Mart - described as being like Walmart's annoying baby brother. Then there's Harris-Teeter (surnames of the founders?), Publix (don't know about this one) and finally....Piggly Wiggly. Now, you have to wonder what the guy who came up with THAT name was smoking. I can see it now....sat in a chair, mulling over possible names for his new store and then it hits him. "That's it, goddammit!! I'll call it PIGGLY WIGGLY!!" Anyway, i digress. Having paid a visit to all of these stores on arrival, they are all very much of a muchness - like the chains in the UK. They all have their own little clubs where you can get bonus points for every fifth doughnut or whatever you buy and so on. So, you might ask, how did i fare today?

Well, it was quite tough. Not only are there the brands that are familiar but different (Nescafe=Taster's Choice, Walkers=Lays) and then there are the brands that aren't and then there are just the strange things. Example - i've been unable to find orange squash (cordial) as they sell it ready diluted in the stores (apparently turning the tap on is too much for some Americans - by the way, any US citizens reading this, feel free to help me out). There are no baked beans here - or, at least, baked beans in the way the UK know them (here they come in a water and molasses sauce). I spent some time wandering around looking for icing sugar - it's Confectioner's sugar - and the bread here....well, don't get me strated. I now go for what is called the European-style bread. It's a bit more expensive but is actually bread - was opposed to the sweet stuff that you get here (it doesn't go well with ham, believe me). And then there's the checkout.

Now, i hate packing up stuff as much as the next person - so it's nice that they have someone do it for you. Except they can't pack to save their life. I left the store today with six bags that, after a moment's rearranging, became three - important as i was walking back home. So, remember....when you hear the beep (beep, beep!), think of the fun YOU could be having on Supermarket Sweep!

Farenheit 451

The weather - probably the most widely discussed topic in the UK - if not the world. The easiest way to strike up a conversation with another person (definitely in the UK - maybe not everywhere else) and something that affects us all. Regular visitors to this site will probably remember me throwing a line in here or there about the weather in general (particularly the thunderstorms) but i don't think i've devoted a whole post to it just yet. Well, this week deserves some kind of mention - if only to provoke either howls of outrage or murmurs of sympathy (knowing my friends and family, i suspect the former). The usual humidity throughout the day has dropped somewhat (thank God) to be replaced by scorching hot temperatures. I no longer have to swim through the air to get to work, I have to walk through an oven instead.

Cast your mind back a couple of summers if you will (July and August 2003) and most of us may remember a very hot couple of weeks indeed. There was something of a heatwave across most of Europe as I recall - enough so that people were actually dropping dead from the heat. If memory serves correct, it reached 100F for the very first time in recorded history in the UK (38.5C/101.3F near Faversham in Kent is the highest temp so far for the UK according to the Met office). I was in Ireland at the time (at the wedding of my friends Fiona and Pete) which was also pretty toasty too. Now compare this to Charleston where, at the start of the week, a severe heat warning was issued and it has reached that landmark temperature every day this week - and whilst not quite 451F, the temperature hit a high of 116F (about 46.5C). Phew! Sympathy anyone? Well, i guess not - cause i spend most of it in an air-conditioned building! Anyway, the best thing about this heat is that, come 10.00PM this week, i've been heading home (have to nip back into the lab late to do stuff) and it's been glorious - very pleasant heat indeed. Most of the locals complain at this - they hate the fact it doesn't get cool at all. Me, i remind them that back home at this time, i'd be freezing my arse...sorry, ass off and to stop moaning. Now with all this sunshine and hot weather, i imagine most of you are expecting me to have a great tan when i come back over there, at the moment, i'd say not to worry - whilst they say only "Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun", i can tell you that THIS Englishman is keeping his backside well and truly indoors!

Yes, Sir!

A well-known joke in the UK (and maybe over here) goes "What do you call a gorilla with a short temper?" The answer, of course, is "Sir" (that is unless you've been living under a rock for a number of years. This leads us nicely on to the subject of today's post - something that i've noticed here and there over the past month, but more so of late (and plus there was plenty other stuff to talk about as well). Back home in the UK, the Northeners tend to have a reputation of being friendlier than our Southern counterparts - a fair assessment in my opinion. Much as I love London, I find the Londoners themselves to be pretty cold and distant as opposed to, say, the Mancunians who are generally warm and friendly. Since arriving here, i've heard it said that a similar divide exists here - except the other way round. It is said that this is because the Southerners are much more conservative people - they have more traditional values but are very much open and friendly (provided, perhaps, that you don't rock the boat). One of the Southern quirks that has been passed through the generations because of this history is the fact that they call everyone "Sir" or "Ma'am".

Now, as a kid, i was taught to respect my elders (which I generally did....stop laughing Dad). Through school, the teachers were 'Sir' and 'Miss' unless told otherwise (and this extended to college to a degree as well) so this is nothing overly new to me. The strange thing (for me) is that this doesn't apply to elders, or superiors but to everyone. Thus, at times i've called after someone to be greeted with a 'Yes, sir?', asked if something is correct to hear a 'Yes, sir!' in reply. I have to emphasise that this doesn't bother me - it's quite pleasant in a way - but it, perhaps, feels just plain unusual to me. What is even funnier is the multi-national composition in the lab means that we often get American-foreign language hybrid attempts of "Yes, sir!" or "Ma'am" (incidentally, this is pronounced Mam rather than Ma'am). My only hope is that this doesn't start happening to me.

Cheesiness

From the title, i imagine, most of you are probably expecting a long and in-depth rant about me attempting to educate the Americans in the ways of pop music beyond Britney Spears (as far as people are concerned here, Kylie had one hit in the 80s and then promptly disappeared for 15 years). Anyway, fear not, for Steps will be mentioned no more (at least in this post). Rather, it's back to a subject close to all Southerners hearts - food. Primarily, as you've probably now guessed, cheese. Now, i like cheese although i try not to eat it too much - the fat content is often enough to get my arteries constricting in horror. Being from Yorkshire as well, i have been bought up with Wensleysdale which is, quite frankly, the best cheese in the world. Thankfully, i've managed to find a store here that sells it - both with and without cranberries in. Although it's a bit on the expensive side, i don't mind at all - it's worth it for a taste of home. As with the beer, i've also been spreading the word here - i think i should ask for commision, the number of people i've got hooked on the stuff.

Anyway, my attempts to keep my cheese intake to a healthy level have been somewhat thwarted by the fact that nearly everything on sale here (in restaurants, mind you) is usually sprinkled liberally (often excessively) with cheese (Sarah, you'd be in paradise!). Last week, we headed to a nice cafe near here (Wickliffe house - i'll take you there if you ask nicely) that does fantastic salads (the seared tuna salad is heaven). Good for the health conscious, you'd think, except underneath the tuna and the first layer of lettuce is a mountain of grated cheese. Same with the Cobb salad (which has to be the most unhealthy salad i've seen - blue cheese, bacon, avocado) and pretty much every salad i've had here. It's the same with sandwiches. Ask for them to remove it and you are fixed with a look that says "are you crazy" which does make me wonder that, if they removed the cheese, would it taste like sawdust or something? I've yet to risk it. I'm just waiting for the occasion where I ask for a bowl of cereal and it comes with half a pound of grated cheddar on.

One Month On...

As I approach the one month mark of my experiences here in the USA, I thought it appropriate to take a brief retrospective on life here so far. This is mainly to assure the many folks reading back home in the UK (okay, the couple of people) that both the USA and the Americans are not nearly as bad as it may seem from my posts so far. As everywhere, there are the good and the bad, the positives and negatives and i'm very lucky moving in the scientific circles in that most, if not all, of the natives i've met are cultured, well-travelled and absolutely fantastic people - who i am enjoying getting to know. If my rantings have seemed to be rather close to the mark (apologies to my Mum), then it's all good-natured - and the Americans i know who've read it find it just as entertaining as everyone else.

Anyway, on to the rest of the post - the first month here. It has generally gone very smoothly indeed (aside from the whole Magic Number issue) and i'm settling in nicely. Both work and my new workmates are great - and i'm now getting my experiments up to full flow (within four weeks of arriving in the country. Not bad going, eh?). My apartment is feeling very homely - although admittedly still a bit spartan but when i get paid for the first time (today I think), that will change - a desk is top of the list, followed by a sofe-bed or fouton for those many visitors that i am bracing myself for. The bottom line is that i'm all well and good, and enjoying myself immensely. And having received my laptop today (this is the inaugural post!), i will hopefully get round to setting up a proper webpage and putting some photos online (some of the party last weekend for example). This also means that i shall be popping up on MSN again too. So if i'm here for a full three years, i guess it's One Month Down, Thirty Five to go!

Party Time (Part 2)

Ok, so one thing is absolutely certain after last night. Ashley and Jim can throw a hell of a party!!! As you can probably guess from this, a good time was had by all. Having arrived fashionably late (unintentionally, i should add - as the friends giving me a ride got lost on the way to my apartment), it was very easy to get into the party mood. There was plenty of beer (including some Newcastle Brown Ale, Theakston's, Sam Smiths and Guinness too) so my first aim of getting a lot of people to try British (and Irish) was easily fulfilled (until i got tired of giving it away and started drinking it all myself, of course). The food on show was fantastic - some absolutely gorgeous lamb (cooked perfectly - just pink round the edges) was the outright winner for me. And of course some great desserts too (all made by Ashley and Jim themselves. I think i have some stiff competition on the baking front!). Naturally, i indulged my sweet tooth (who wouldn't) using it as an excuse for me to start at the gym next week (and i have joined one now!). And then there was the entertainment - in the imposing form of a bouncy castle.

Now it might not seem like the best idea to have a bit to drink, lots to eat and then go jumping about but we all threw caution to the wind and went for it anyway - and was it fun!! Fortunately, the castle roof was also soft otherwise i would have probably been seriously concussed within moments. I have to say it's amazing how tiring jumping up and down can be. After five minutes, most of the adults there were lying on the floor taking deep breaths (including me i should add) whereas the kids were quite happy to keep on jumping. Maybe it was the southern heat or something, but it never seemed to be that much hard work before. Either that or I'm just getting old. What more is there to be said? I managed to get a couple of people dancing to "Tragedy" which, considering we didn't play it till after 12.00, i was very pleased with. And the hangover this morning? What hangover! So, guys...when's the next party?

Party Time!!!

When i visited the lab here in February, i was told that everyone was very sociable and, thankfully, this has turned out to be the case. The social highlight of the calendar this week (nee month - July 4th, eat your heart out!) is a birthday party tonight in honour of Ashley (I've mentioned her before - one of the beer-loving Charleston gals!). Now I could say that tonight is going to be an interesting event for me as it gives me the opportunity to look at some of the differences between how the Brits and Americans celebrate their brithdays - but in all honestly, i just intend to go and have a good time - or at least show the Americans that we Brits can make just as big fools of ourselves than they can - even if they do elect an idiot for a leader (Bush quote of the week: "It's clearly a budget, it's got a lot of numbers in it"). I'm sure at some point next week, I'll get round to letting everyone know how it all went.

Nevertheless, i have some aims for the evening. The first is to get at least everyone American (if not everyone) to try some British beer - gotta keep the export trade going somehow! To this end, i'm armed with some Samuel Smiths India Ale and am told that there will be some Old Speckled Hen available too - that's good for starters. Aim number two is to teach everyone how to dance to "Tragedy" - they may remember the Bee Gees version, but we're talking Steps of course (I don't think they ever made it over here). Aim three is to prove that the British can handle their alcohol - this may get trickier as the night progresses, but i'm sure there'll be plenty of handy plant pots to pour drinks into if i feel that i'm fighting a losing battle (I hope it doesn't get to that point - i hate wasting good alcohol). And finally, aim four is to wake up tomorrow morning without a hangover. You'll have to wait and see how that pans out.

pro·nun·ci·a·tion (n.)

As you've probably guessed from the title, it's back to that old chestnut of language - and as i'm sure we're all aware, the Americans have a great old time mangling our words. This has been more evident this week as i've been severely dragged over the coals by two of the local guys here in the lab after almost every other sentence (in a good humoured way i should add). Naturally, i take the moral high ground for the Mother Country and repeatedly point out that i'm speaking a language (English) whereas they're speaking a dialect (American-English). This usually is sufficient for them to scuttle away in a corner and fume silently until the next time. Or rather not so silently (they are American after all). The main culprits so far are "alu-min-um" for aluminium (why they insist on removing the second 'i' when a considerable number of elements in the periodic table all end in 'ium' is beyond me), "too-bes" for tubes and "vi-ta-mins" instead of "vit-a-mins". A friend pointed out to me that it should be pronounced that way because the word is derived from "vital amines" (a little factoid for you) to which i promptly replied "why don't you say "vi-ta-meens"? And, of course, there are the different words too. I went into a shop and asked about some trainers the other day - to be met with a blank look (they call them "tennis shoes" here). Crisps are chips, chips are fries (or french fries, even though they originated in Belgium). Biscuits are cookies, and plain scones are biscuits.

They say that English is a hard language to learn - because we have a lot of ways of saying the same thing (there are at least 50 different words for drunk as an example) and we have a number of different pronunciations of letters. Think, for example, of the words plough, though, through and tough. We also have words that sound the same but are different - you're and your, or even worse - there, their and they're. Is it any wonder that foreigner's get confused easily? Through this all, however, there is a light at the end of the tunnel (for me anyway). Of the numerous non-US folk in the lab here, i have been told many times that i am much easier to understand. This is partly because i speak clearly, partly cause i don't speak too loud and partly because i don't let my sentences de-generate into a punctuation-less mess (unless a few bottles of beer are involved). From that evidence alone, i think it's fair to say: English 1 American 0.

Mistaken identities

As you're probably aware from some of the previous entries on here (assuming you've read them of course), it's not unfair to say that a lot of Americans often don't look beyond their own borders - or sometimes their own statelines. Consistent with this view, i was reading in the local paper that quite a significant number of Americans can't speak a foreign language and, as i've alluded to already, only a fraction (15-25% i think) have a passport. It hardly seems surprising then, when i mention that this post is not so much about mistaken IDENTITY, more mistaken NATIONALITY (the former title sounded snappier). Of course, there are the obligatory "are you from Eng-er-land?" cries that pop up frequently. But there are also the stab-in-the-dark guesses as to where you hail from - as you're obviously not American. I think, perhaps, that my generally quite neutral accent (as UK accents go) doesn't help much. When i came here in February (to visit the lab) I was asked if I was German despite the fact that i'd spoken to this person for some time before they asked - perhaps it was the glasses.

The reason, i think, that the Americans have a difficult time in placing accents, apart from the fact that they've probably not heard most of them, is that they would have to go some considerable distance to hear any difference in their own accent. Compare this with the UK, where often an hour's journey in any direction would yield vast changes in accent and colloquiolisms. Example - one hour west (roughly) from Manchester, you have Wales and Liverpool. One hour East - Leeds. An hour south - getting on for Birmingham and an hour North - you're into Cumbria territory. the fact that we have such a kitchen sink of accents, in my view, helps us when it comes to placing other accents. And the reason for this post today? I just got back from lunch where the waitress asked me where i was from. I said "the UK" and then a few moments later she asked me if i spoke Ukrainean. I smiled and replied "Only if i took lessons.' I don't think she got it.

How to Shag....

So, by now, you must have looked at the title and thought that i've either lost it or, in a desperate attempt to get people to actually read this site, have done what all good American TV shows do and have plumbed new depths of subject matter. Well, relax (especially you Mum) because there is a method to this madness (well, more so than normal anyhow). At lunch today, my workmates and I journeyed over to a (very nice) restaurant called The Variety Store (absolutely fantastic, let me tell you!) and having placed our orders, settled into the usual pre-dinner gossip - mostly about the South Carolina-centred placemats - which had all sorts of useful information (did you know, for example, that the State Insect is the Praying Mantis?). I was slowly reading through this list and scanning the map (with a few familiar placenames - York, Darlington, Chesterfield) when i heard one of my friends mention that he was soon to be having Shagging lessons. You can probably imagine the look on my face (it involved a raised eyebrow). A glance down at the list again found that the South Carolina State dance is, you guessed it, The Shag (and not The Charleston as I had hoped). So what is it?

It started in Myrtle Beach (a couple of hours up the coast from Charleston) in the 40 and 50's when local teens invented the Shag - said to be the dance step that is most suited to Rhythm & Blues music. It is a 6-count, basic pattern dance but there is a rearrangement of the footwork that (apparently) makes it look and feel unique (some "East Coast Swing" so i'm told) with all the action occuring below the waist. As you can imagine, it's quite popular here from Florida up to Virgina (mainly the South-Eastern USA). So it's not uncommon to Shag at a party, Shag in a club (provided it's the right kind of course) and, heck, with a climate like this, many people often like to Shag on the Beach. Who knows, by the time i make it back over to Britain, i'll be an expert at the Shag myself - i suppose if George W. can make it to President, then anything is possible.

Wildlife

Moving from the Northern UK climes of Manchester to the semi-tropical climes of South Carolina, as you'd expect there has been quite an adjustment in both the surroundings and environment to get used to in addition to learning how to tolerate the Americans in general (more on this later in the week, i'm sure). There are both the familiar (the ubiquitous grey squirrels scampering up and down the trees always raises a smile) and the familiar but previously unseen - a couple of cockroaches, or "palmetto bugs" as they're known here, have scuttled across my path from time to time (and get popping up on my friend's balcony at a party on Saturday). Having never witnessed a cockroach/palmetto bug in the UK, the only place i can immediately remember seeing them on TV or film was an old X-Files episode where the cockroaches appear to be attacking people - a particular image of them burrowing into a person's arms and crawling under the skin springs to mind. Suffice to say, i nearly had a heart attack when i saw one scuttling around my feet - fortunately, my British stiff-upper-lippedness (not evident here, believe me) saved me from too much embarrasment.

From here, we go straight to the unfamiliar - these include small green lizard things (which i guess ARE lizards) that scuttle from bush to bush across the path (and my steps as well). Then there are scarlet red birds in the trees that give you the evil eye as you go past (it's like "The Birds" all over again!). There are also some small brownish-yellow birds that hop up and down the street and have rather disproportionately long legs. If there was a Bird Ministry of Silly Walks, i'm sure these guys would be in a class of their own.

Finally, we turn to the plants themselves - the most noticeable here, of course, is the Palmetto tree (South Carolina is named The Palmetto State in case you didn't know). These are on ever corner, in every park (and there's a nice bit of greenery at both ends of my street) and add a nice touch of exoticness to the place and air (i noticed this in particular when walking to a friend's house on Saturday night - it certainly didn't feel like i was in the middle of a city). Of course, the fact that they're palmetto (which literally means "small palm") means that the fronds can often hang low over the paths. It's reassuring in a way to know that no matter which country i'm in, i'm always going to end up with my head in the branches.

Grits

In my ongoing quest to acquaint myself with Southern food (see my earlier post), i finally plucked up the courage yesterday to try some grits - of which i had only heard of from the (very funny) film "My Cousin Vinny" (I recommend it). It's a very Southern thing, a bit like cornbread and mac-and-cheese as a side - so i was gonna have to try it sooner or later. Grits date as far back as 1607, when the first colonists came ashore at Jamestown, Virginia. It's said that they were met by friendly Native Americans who offered steaming hot bowls of "rockahominie". This was softened maize seasoned with salt and animal fat. Hence, the birth of the American grit. I suppose the best description i can come up with is that it's like very thick porridge - except made with corn or maize instead of oat. I'm not sure where the name comes from but i was fervently hoping that it wasn't because it was like eating a mouthful of grit.

Like porridge (made with water anyway), the taste of the grits themselves is pretty bland - and it's what you add to it that makes the dish (so why bother with them i wondered, but then the same can be said for pasta or rice, i suppose). The grits in question this time were cheese grits. One thing i've noticed is that they love their cheese over here - and put it on a LOT of stuff (Sarah, you'd be in heaven). And the verdict? Actually very good. The taste reminded me of Heinz' tinned Macaroni Cheese so always a plus. The texture was interesting - not as gritty as i'd thought, but not just like mush - a very subtle roughness to it (if subtle can actually exist over here). So, come to the US, stay for the food? Not quite yet - but it's slowly winning me round. Watch this space. Now i'm off to read Harry Potter 6.

I.D.

What with the ongoing argument about National Identity cards ever present (i'd guess) in the UK right now, it seems as good a time as any to mention, also, the US obsession with forms of ID. I've already talked about the necessity for a social security number to sort out a lot of things over here (mine still hasn't arrived yet - it better hurry up cause i don't know if i'll get paid without it!) and so this seems like a natural extension. This stems, effectively, from a couple of occasions where, when out with friends, we've attempted to go into a bar and been asked for ID. Of course, me being me - and not used to keeping my driver's licence in my wallet (definitely not carrying my passport about with me), this has led to us being turned away.

Now, fair enough, i know the people are just doing their jobs and so you can't really get wound up about it - but to me it just seems rather silly and unnecessary in some ways. When i was in Washington DC a few years back, some of us from the hostel went out for a couple of drinks and we all got asked for ID - and one guy who was in his 40s (and looked older) refused to give it because, to him, it was pretty obvious that he was over 21. As you'd probably expect, the bar refused to serve us and we went elsewhere. Whilst it's important (for the licence) for them not to serve underage people, is checking ID of everyone up to the age of 60 (apparently, that's the limit) taking things to far? Should it be like in the UK where the responsibility to check ID should also rest with the bartenders as well as the doorstaff? Personally, i think that checking all ID is rather extreme - and that it should be down to personal judgement at the time - then if the bartender has doubts, they can ask for the ID themselves. But then, lest we forget, this is America where the drinking age is 21 - and someone aged 18 could, with a bit of effort, pass for 21 - whereas with the age of 18 in the UK, there is probably a better likelihood of distinguishing someone a good deal under 18 than someone 18 or over. But then if they let them drive cars at 15, is it any wonder they can't touch the booze till much later?

Tea

After nearly three weeks of having to boil pans of water, i finally managed to get round to buying a kettle yesterday - and having a decent cup of tea - something that makes living here so much more easier. The kettle itself cost $24.99 - about 14 pounds - which i don' think is too bad personally. However, when you consider that for the same price you can get a pretty reasonable coffee maker, it seems rather highly priced. Y'see, tea - as we know it - isn't so much of a common thing over here (as i'm sure most of you are aware anyway). The drink of choice here is coffee so thick that you could easily confuse it with rocket fuel. If it turned out that Starbucks helped sponsor the Apollo 11 mission to the moon, i wouldn't bat an eyelid. The fondness for coffee is especially obvious on a morning. Remember that old American drama cliche of people chugging coffee on the way to work - well, it's absolutely true. Is it any wonder that coffee chains are absolutely loaded. It's said that the Starbucks in Times Square actually loses money (the rent there being so high) but the corporation doesn't care because of the prestige of having a shop there. An American Corporation not caring about losing money? Sounds like Enron all over again.

Of course, this obsession with coffee means that the chances of me finding a nice cuppa are pretty slim outside of my own home and even in the places that do do it, you have to remember to ask for hot tea. Ask for tea (as those of you who've been to the US before will know) and you get iced tea. Ah, Iced tea - a drink that i could never have imagined i would like but, y'know (the Americanisms keep slipping in), it's actually pretty good. Especially in the South with the heat and the humidity. You can get it as sweetened or unsweetened - i tend to go for the former (they use syrup to sweeten it, i'm told) as i can't shake the image of a moudly cup of morning-after tea whenever i have the unsweetened. So, for those of you who plan on visiting me (pretty much everyone reading this page from the sound of it), I'd advise giving the iced tea a try - you never know, you may like it. Otherwise be prepared for lots of "you want hot tea?" replies in many mocking tones. Or is that just the way Americans normally speak?

Graduation

As I type this, you're probably all asleep or getting that way (Nearly 6PM here so nearly 11PM there). So, by the time you've all read this, it'll be the 14th July - and a very special day for me (and some others too - Danielle!) - my Graduation. Okay, so the chances of me making it to the ceremony are looking pretty slim given that i'm not typing this at the airport or on a plane and i'm not Superman (again, i'm working on it but one thing at a time, eh?). Thus, i'm graduating "in absentia" which means i (unfortunately) miss out on the joy of dressing up in gowns resembling the Quidditch robes of the Harry Potter Films - and, of course, the obligatory floppy hat. On the plus side, i get to miss out on an incredibly boring speech - which is probably just going to be a photocopy of an old speech. So, much as i would have liked to prance around in a cloak (hey, I do as much as the next person), i'm not too sore about missing the whole affair - apart from perhaps the compulsory going-out-to-get-completely-ratted that would have followed. And, with a bit of luck, the university will remember to send my certificate back home for me.

A major decision for me (and, again, others) in the run up to Graduation was whether to graduate from the "old" University of Manchester or from the new University of Manchester (the one that's a product of the merger with UMIST). Is it better to be remember as the last of the old or the first of the new? The old university had a great reputation in the UK - and to some extent the larger world - as some major advances happened here. Rutherford did a considerable chunk of work at Manchester that led to his model of the atom. The first "computer" was developed and built in a room at Manchester. However, on the flip side of the things, the new university housing both Manchester and UMIST, and with considerably more resources at hand can really make a mark on the world stage - and so has potential for an even better reputation. In the end, i chose to be the first of the new. At least i can say i'm setting a trend!

Socrates

After heading home from the lab yesterday, i decided to pay a visit to a nearby coffee shop - called Port City Java, apparently a chain, but unlike the ever-present Starbucks (slowly taking over the world, i'm sure) it's not one that i've seen in the UK at all (correct me if i'm wrong. It does happen, although i'm often loath to admit it). Anyway, once in the pretty busy shop i ordered in snappy American style (grande non-fat latte to stay), only to be asked to repeat myself - i guess it doesn't roll of the English tongue the same way (either that or she wasn't paying attention). So, duly latted, i took a seat and began to peruse the free City paper which, amazingly for a free paper, has content worth reading (unlike some of the USA Today, i might add). It was then that i noticed a particularly large group of people at one end of the shop embroiled in some kind of discussion.

Out of curiosity (and because i'm a nosy sod at heart), i pricked up my ears to see what was going on. A sign at the far window proclaimed this was the "Socrates Cafe" - a group, i guess, who meet from time to time to have a good ol' fashioned debate akin to the public forums that were commonplace in Ancient Greece about the time of Socrates and fellow philosophers. The debate in question was focusing on ideas of good and evil (surprise, surprise for the Deep South!) and, as you'd expect, there was something of a religious slant to it all. However, i was quite surprised to hear a pretty reasonable and balanced debate on all sides - leading ultimately to a conclusion that are very few absolutes and many many shades of gray. At least all save a couple of people who seemed to be unable to grasp anything beyond a black and white view of the world (sounds rather like George W.). Anyway, listening to this made me feel rather more positive about being in Charleston (not that i wasn't already, i should say) - thankfully it seems that not everyone here is straight out of "Deliverance"! Now where did i put my banjo?

Streamlining or laziness?

So, its now been two weeks since i left the fair shores of the UK and i have a project all sorted. I'm now in the midst of orientating myself in the ways of the lab - i had my official introductory briefing to the lab today and have a list of solutions ready to make up tomorrow. I even have some cells growing ready to start making my own stocks. Yay! However, having been here for a fortnight - and with my desk space integrated into the lab as a whole (a good idea - it saves people having to run off up and down stairs through corridors to find you - and also means not far to go when you have experiment breaks) - i've been able to watch the general comings and goings of my labmates as they go about their business. And it struck me how pre-made everything is here. This means that they use pre-made SDS gels (as opposed to hand-making each and every one as i used to do), pre-made running and blotting buffers, pre-made TBS. Hell, even pre-made Tris for goodness' sake! My reaction to each of these has been a "i can't believe they do that!" and a shake of the head, immediately followed by a grin and a "this will make my life a whole lot easier!". I asked a couple of the guys about it and their opinion was that the lab is so data-driven, that you have so much on, that it would not be possible to make EVERYTHING by hand. A fair point indeed.

We're all pretty aware of how driven the US work ethic is - they live to work, rather than the other way round as we do in the UK. So naturally, if they're gonna have such a busy lifestyle they haven't the time to spend on doing the menial chores. of life They patented fast food cause they didn't have time to cook it themselves (knew i'd get the burger thing in there somewhere, didn't ya?), and then they invented the Drive-Thru cause they haven't the time to go in and sit down (either that or walking into the restaurant would burn far too many calories for them). And now it seems to have spread to the lab as well - pre-made virtually everything. I'm certainly not complaining in this case - cause my life is a hell of a lot easier - but i merely ask the simple question: Is this streamlining or just laziness? If i return to the UK in three years time with a considerably larger waist - you can consider the question answered.

Building Bridges

This week is quite a big one in the history of Charleston with the opening of a new bridge joining Charleston with Mount Pleasant over the Cooper river to the West of here. The Ravenel bridge has taken four years to build at the cost of $632 million dollars and is North America's longest cable-stayed bridge - three miles long and with eight traffic lanes. To mark the official opening this week, the powers-that-be have decided to throw open the bridge to pedestrians, for a few hours today and tomorrow, so they can enjoy the sight before the traffic get their hands (or wheels) on it. So, at about 8am this morning, i dragged myself out of bed - feeling a bit hungover from last night - and, with a couple of workmates, made my way to the Charleston end of the bridge (the city had thoughtfully provided buses to shuttle everyone too and fro). And off we went. Along with what looked like the whole city population.

It's an undeniably impressive bridge (For some pictures, see http://www.wltx.com/news/news19.aspx?storyid=28774) and the views across the Cooper river are absolutely fantastic - you can see why a lot of people turned out for what is pretty much a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (once the cars are there, that's it). And let's face it, a considerable percentage of the American population could do with a good brisk walk to shake off some of the burgers (there were a good number of, shall we say, large people about). Having got two-thirds of the way across, we decided to head back and catch a shuttle down - partly to avoid the crowds (the bridge was swarming) and partly to save our legs in the increasing humidity. All in all, it was a very enjoyable experience - something i'm glad i did. On the bus back, one of the locals (very simple folk) kept chanting about it being history in the making. Very much so. Now if only America could start building bridges with the rest of the world, we might actually begin to get somewhere.

Beer and the US.

Like most men in both the US and UK, as Friday evening approaches thoughts nearly always turn to plans for the evening (usually involving alcohol of some kind, I'd guess). Well, me being the social butterfly that i am (stop sniggering at the back), and also not having that much to do (i'm sketching out protocols for experiments but have done the first couple now so need to actually get my hands dirty and do the work), i duly got up off my ass (as they say here) and set off round the department on a recruiting exercise to get as many people as possible to come out tonight. The venue? A local bar named "Jean's Haufbrau" - an excellent venue given that it has an excellent selection of imported English beers (mostly all from Yorkshire, i should add). As a (reasonably) cultured Englishman, i feel it my duty to attempt to educate some of these US folk in what actually makes a decent beer (hard work, let me tell you).

I've mentioned before that Newcastle Brown Ale is reasonably popular here (in Charleston, at least). It's certainly pretty widely available in the big supermarkets (alas not in the mini one near me!) and is often a choice in the couple of other bars i've been too. However, it appears that the most popular beer in the US (if you can call it that) is Bud Light. That's right - Bud LIGHT! Not ordinary Bud (which, let's be honest, tastes like piss anyway) but the LIGHT stuff. Having had the unfortunate experience of tasting Bud Light, i've come to the conclusion that it must be just water. Actually, scrub that. I think it's the water that they use to rinse out the tanks that (weak-as-piss) Bud has been brewed in. And this is their FAVOURITE BEER? I ask you! This past week, having done a mini survey of some American colleagues in the department, i found that most of them are unable to stomach dark ales or beers. Give them a sip of Guiness or John Smiths and they're straight to the toilet to throw it back up again. Is this why the rest of us have to be subjected to these god-awful "light beers". I'm beginning to think that the person who said "Man cannot live by beer alone" must have been a Brit drinking a Bud Light.

However, as in all good cases, there are exceptions (and thank God for that). In this case, it's the women. When i visited here in Charleston, i was introduced to "Jean's" by Ashley, one of the other Doctors here (and a local girl at that) who can't get enough of the English beer. This week, i was kindly given a lift to the mall by Kellie who i bought a pint (near enough) of Boddingtons in a nearby bar (which she absolutely adores). Thank God somebody has some taste. So if you'll excuse me, i have a group of Americans to educate. Class is in session!

Distance

One of the strangest things about moving to a different country (especially one as insular as the USA) is the sense of detachment that you get with regards to goings on back home. Naturally, this has been most evident recently with London being present in the news - both for good (Olympics - got one over on the French there!) and bad (the bomb attacks this morning). The first i heard of the former was on the phone to my Mum - they'd heard the result a few hours earlier. With the latter, it was this morning when one of my new colleagues told me about it (i have no TV or radio here yet - but rest assured i will by September when the new seasons of TV programmes start). It feels rather unusual - given that i'm used to being on the same island as these events (certainly in the same time zone). Being some distance way makes it all seem unreal. I guess it something i'll get used to it with time.

On other fronts, i know have a project to be going on with and am ready to start some experiments. Of course, it'll take a couple of weeks to get things up to steam (what with me having to figure out new techniques, where stuff is in the lab, go through any training stuff and so on) but i'm looking forward to it. At least it means i can figure out a lot of the protocols now and then work my way through experiments at a reasonable pace. Of course, i can hope that they all run smoothly and perfectly first time - but real life is never like that now, is it? Things would always crash and burn in the UK - so i don't see any reason why it should change because i'm on a different continent. Rest assured, if i accidentally manage to create some freakish yeast mutant that goes on the rampage and starts killing, you'll all be the first to know. I guess one advantage about being here is that at least i'll be able to use a gun to try and stop it!

Good ol' Southern Boy

Fear not, those of you who have read the title and thought that i've become like something out of "The Dukes of Hazzard" (although i wouldn't mind driving that car, especially the sliding over the bonnet). However, having begun to nicely settle into life in the lab (and city) here, i've taken it upon myself to become acquainted with some of the, shall we say, peculiarities of both US and Southern US living in preparation for the inevitable trips that you all are going to be making here. For starters, when considering food in the US, the South is perhaps considered to have the upper hand in that it's very "home-grown" cooking and food. But is it any good?

There are some very unusual things to be had here - besides the fast-food restaurants of course (of which there are a huge number of different chains. We've got McDs, Burger King, KFC, Taco Bell, Arbys, Wendys, Pizza Hut and other that i'm sure i've forgotten). Grits for one - of which the best description is "like porridge (aka oatmeal here) except with corn instead." I've not tried it yet (i intend to) because the grits i've seen so far resembled wallpaper paste. Watch this space. With regards to the "sides" over here, it's true what they say - 'Slaw (aka coleslaw) and potato salad are always on show. Along with mac-and-cheese - macaroni cheese. I've tried some of that - and it's okay, but not as good as the stuff Mum used to make when i was younger. And then there's cornbread - something that i tried today for the first time. What is it? Well, it's basically bread - with cornmeal instead of flour (i guess it's ground up corn instead of wheat). It arrives looking like a wedge of cake - and it tastes pretty good. The closest thing i can think to resemble it in taste and texture is, perhaps, madeira cake (except the stuff i had wasn't as sweet). Apparently, it's good to have it really sweet with maple syrup. Sounds nice but not sure if i'd have it with savoury stuff as well. But then i do have christmas cake and wendsleydale cheese so what do i know?

The Magic Number

Having been here for just over a week, i've naturally had to endure the joys of visiting the Social Security office. The American ones aren't too bad - they're nicely carpeted and very orderly places where mobile phones have to be switched off and a friendly security man sits in the corner (you know the kind, those that look like they'd be of no use whatsoever if actually called into action). Anyway, you take your ticket, sit down and wait your turn. If the British invented queuing, the Americans certainly streamlined it. Not that it actually moves any faster. Fortunately, lots of people over here can't be bothered waiting and so leave - meaning that the ticket numbers go jumping ahead when you least expect it. Suffice to say, after two trips to the office i'm in the system wheter i like it or not (the first, i waited two hours only for them to tell me that they couldn't actually do anything for me because one of my forms didn't activate until July 1st).

And now i have to wait. They tell me it should be a week or so before i get a letter telling me that my details are all correct and i'm in the system. Then about a week till i get the piece of card (unlaminated, i should add - cheapskates) with the number on. Which is great. The only downside to all this is that i'm living in a country where the government recognises my existence (hell, it let me in here) but a large part of the major corporations don't. In most cases you can get by this by showing your passport, waving a bit of paper that the Social give you saying that you're in the process of getting it and that's fine. In some cases (like electricity), i had to pay a deposit that I will ultimately get back. So that's fine. Except we come to the phone company. Who only deal with you over the phone and also require a deposit (because i have no credit history here) but can't do squat until they get your social security number. A number that, many years ago (i'm told on good authority), you were told not to give to anyone at all - because this was your identity. Apparently, the US are only just realising what a silly system it is to have this number responsible for everything - cause it's now so embedded in every system that anyone who gets hold of it could easily walk away with your identity after hacking through multiple layers of some of the most secure computer systems in the world. Hey, if anyone wants mine after doing that, they're welcome to it!

Independence

Happy Independence Day! Yep, today is the 229th Birthday of the USA and, as you'd probably expect, is an excuse for lots of patriotic flag-waving, chants of U-S-A! and the letting off of lots of fireworks in the back garden. Yep, nothing says "Yay, America!" like blowing things up. I shouldn't moan really - let's face it, the British invented Jingoism, but then, this being America, it usually has to be done bigger and better. And louder. I was just chatting with a friend in the lab and she told me that there are no less than six organised fireworks displays happening in and around the Charleston area. And when you factor in the non-organised, back garden fireworks, that amounts to an awful lot of noise. Whilst this would normally mean me burying my head under the pillow in a futile attempt to drown out the racket, as i've been invited to a 4th July party, i reckon i'll probably be a cause of some of it. At least there'll be one solitary voice singing "God Save the Queen", at least for a few moments. John, you would be proud!

Accents

Although i've been here just under a week, i've already become used to people asking where i'm from or saying that dreaded cliche - "Oh, i just LOVE your accent!" Before i came here, i had the impression that it would drive me up the wall but I have to say it's become kind of endearing. Being from the UK automatically makes you an object of interest to a large number of the US population - given that only about 15% (i think it's about that) have passports and of the remainder, i'd guess, quite a percentage have probably never even left their own state - in some ways it's quite pleasant - if you can bring a bit of the outside world into someone's life, it can only be a good thing. However, when you explain that you've moved here to work, they look a bit puzzled - a sort of "why on earth would you want to move here when you're from such a neat place" look. Alas, one question that almost immediately follows the response to the "You're from England?" is the dreaded "So you're from London?". After trying a sarchastic reply the first couple of times - and being met with very blank looks indeed (they just don't get it), i've managed to restrain myself to being reasonably polite (No, really).

Of course, the first week in a foreign country wouldn't be complete without having at least one English vs American-English argument...er, debate, which is absolutely hilarious to anyone not English or American who happens to be watching. This is primarily because both sides of the argument are convinced that they are right. This would have gone on for some time until i pointed out that it's American-English - and not English-American - and the Americans had to leave for the airport - it being 4th July weekend and all. Ah, yes - the 4th July is here on Monday - America's 229th Birthday. I've been invited to a party and am definitely attending (with a crate of Newcastle Brown Ale - the major English beer that i've come across in most restaurants/bars/supermarkets). I'll just have to stop myself from referring to the locals as "bloody colonials".

Taxes

It's said that there are two constants in life - death and taxes, so i was quite pleased to hear that might be able to get rid of these. Alas, not death - i'm not immortal just yet (although working on it, believe me) - but taxes, when i found out that, as a foreign national, depending on the status of a particular treaty, i may be exempt for taxes for the first two years i'm here. After calming down, i made my way over to the accounts part of MUSC to see what the score was. Typically, this isn't such a good deal after all. Y'see, for two years, i would have been tax-free, but then if i'd stayed for one day over that two year margin (which i intend to do if offered the opportunity), i would've had to pay tax including ALL back tax from the previous two years - pretty shit, i'm sure you'd agree. Having decided that i don't want to live on virtually nothing for the third year that i'm here, i generously decided to waive this right and give Uncle Sam his thirty pieces of silver every year. At least once i've filled in the paperwork.

On other fronts, i checked out of the hotel this morning and have now moved into my rather pleasant apartment. Thankfully it has very high ceilings - particularly useful in my case as it also has ceiling fans (not that jumping into fans can do much damage according to this study on the Discovery Channel i saw the other day). Admittedly it's rather empty at the moment - with just a bed besides the usual fittings - but i can manage the minimalist look for a bit. Well, one day. Am hitting the stores tomorrow on a spending spree. Before you know it, Hotel Clarke will be open for business!