33 Epiphanies

The Making of a Scientist

My culinary hero of the week is Michael Ruhlman. His lucid writing and thoughtful observations about food and culture are truly inspiring (I am also envious of his kitchen). Although he began as a journalist, a stint at the CIA was life-transforming and propelled him to a brilliant career. Recently, I have been especially interested in his observations about the training of a chef and comparing that to the career path of a scientist:

The best training for being a professional chef seems to be in the form of an apprenticeship, in which the trainee sequentially masters basic skills before leading a kitchen and creating his style of cuisine. The apprentice is an integral part of the kitchen crew and is immediately (often harshly) criticized if he do not perform adequately. However, after several months of repetitive prep-work for thousands of dishes, the motions become fluid-like and the student starts to achieve a Zen-like kitchen awareness. This is what separates a professional chef from an amateur kitchen hobbyist.

In science, the training consists of textbook-motivated problem sets, which are important, but seem quite disconnected with the work of an actual scientist. Moreover, there is tremendous variety in the range of undergraduate and graduate research experiences. I have had a series of relatively hands-off advisers, but I know there are others who can be viewed as micro-managers. The day-to-day life of a researcher consists of a lot of "grunt-work" in the form of aligning lasers, performing PCR, etc. In my experience, the undergraduate lab courses provided a series of introductions to simplified experiments, but never built up to the point where a "lab awareness" was reached.

I realize that the culinary world and the scientific world have distinct goals, but I wonder if there are others who feel this disconnect between the academic training and the actual work of a scientist.

Inspired by Heidi

After a Saturday afternoon group meeting, I desperately needed to give my brain a break from thinking about DNA and microspheres. Heidi Swanson, the author of the 101 Cookbooks blog came to my rescue, in the form of an amazing lentil soup recipe. I raced back from lab to try it out and the resulting dish was spectacular. My photo didn't turn out nearly as appetite-inducing as Heidi's (I tried using a drizzle of soy milk instead of saffron yogurt), but I am still proud to have made a meal from scratch instead of submitting to the canteens:

Inspired by Adam D. Roberts

On February 13th, I gained a fascinating glimpse into the Singaporean psyche as dozens of junior college students wrote to me about how they spend their time, how they view themselves, and what ideas or experiences they find most exciting. Actually, I was a judge for the annual Stanford Book Prize competition, in which the contest winner gets an all-expense-paid trip to Stanford (just a visit, though, not actual admission).

I am happy to report that the Ministry of Education's mission to mould the nation's future hasn't resulted in an army of clones: I was pleasantly surprised by the variety in both content and style in what the students had written. However, I would have one piece of advice in such a results-driven culture: less is more. An exhaustive list of extracurricular activities does not stand out from the crowd, an attempt to list all personal characteristics is difficult to remember, and an over-extended essay is easily forgotten. The best applications are focused. The Amateur Gourmet author wrote a post about how to write to a famous writer:

Eight paragraphs about your life, love and devotion to this writer's writing will not win you much favor. Instead, pare it down to just a few sentences.

This is a guy who has gone from one of countless food bloggers to being a successful author and attending the launch party of gourmet.com, so I think that he's on to something. If I were applying to the competition, I would follow similar advice and pare down each section to a key essential point.

An obvious next question would be: how does one decide on the essence of the essay? This is particularly difficult when writing about oneself. How can you reduce eighteen years of life to a few hundred words? For some it's a life-changing book, for other's it's a trip overseas. Some people go on introspective journeys to find their identities while their counterparts restlessly travel the globe. Either extreme is a way of disconnecting from society: a solitary, self-proclaimed philosopher with hypergraphia is just as separated as a tourist in perpetual motion, taking photos of all the landmarks, but never staying long enough for it to make an impression. I am still trying to find the right balance here in Singapore, so I am fully aware of the impossible task that the students face. However, I greatly appreciate the time spent by all of the applicants, since it has been enlightening to both understanding their home and my own identity.

[The photo at the top was taken by me on the first day of the Chinese New Year. I am also following the advice of the Amateur Gourmet (aka Adam D. Roberts) and striving to make my blog appear less drab.]

I-S on CNY

It's Chinese New Year eve: a time for family reunion dinners. Although I have some plans for meeting up with friends and their relatives later this weekend, I'm on my own tonight. I am using this time to plan out the next several days with a (free) copy of I-S magazine. The cover story caught my attention: "All rat-tled up: Where to Go, What to Do This Chinese New Year." Perfect.

As I explore the table of contents, I notice an interesting editorial titled "We Got Talent." According to the authors, in addition to engineering and biomedical expertise, investors should consider Singapore for some of the following reasons, excerpted below:

* Our ability to speak fluently in English and at least two other dialects.
* Our workahollsm and penchant for OT.
* Our shopaholic and sales-crazy tendencies.
* Our kiasuism - it leaves no room for Plan B - it's just "die die also must succeed"

Later in the magazine is the feature article. For February 6th, the authors write: "Don't know what to do after that perfunctory reunion dinner [or bowl of pasta alone in your apartment]? Go drinking at the clubs, since everywhere else is pretty much closed [as I found out that hard way]." Perhaps later I'll head over to the St. James Power Station for some "Mandarin power ballads, pop and rock."

Tomorrow it's time to "Do Random Things!" The Singapore River Hong Bao Expo at Esplanade Park (see photo above) looks intriguing: "cultural exhibitions, demonstrations and workshops, traditional song and dance performances, fireworks displays, amusement park rides and games, and exotic food and drinks."

Friday it's time to "Get Arty!" but I already have plans. Saturday is "Eat All You Can!" According to the article, "No Chinese New Year celebration is complete without completely sinful, rich and decadent Chinese New Year grub." A common theme is yu sheng, a raw fish salad (photo from thebakerwhocooks), as well as classics like "braised sliced abalone, dried oyster and black moss." Prices start at $65 per person, so I might pass on this. Sunday it's back to shopping (those shopaholic, sales-crazy Singaporeans), but spas and jewelry stores aren't really my thing.

Thinking ahead, Valentine's Day is coming up. I don't have any plans yet, but I-S magazine comes to my rescue yet again, with an article: "How to Get Back in The Dating Game: Desperate times call for desperate measures, and Valentine's Day might just be the clarion call to get off the bench [or out of the lab] and out on the field." Instead of working overtime, like many workaholic Singaporeans, Michele Koh suggests that I join a cooking class, have a group picnic, buy a present, write poetry and recite it, or fake my Facebook account.

After writing that, I have a much better plan for the next four days. Now it's time for some clubbing (right after I add rock-climbing and scuba-diving to my list of hobbies on Facebook).

Thoughts from the ridge

During my seemingly endless hours waiting for and traveling on public transport, I have ample time to listen to podcasts and read free newsletters. The latest issue of The Ridge, the NUS Student Union publication, had a couple blog-worthy items. In the essay "To Belong or Not to Belong: Is it the international student's choice after all?" L Preetha writes that:

In a conservative society like Singapore's, where everyone believes in minding their own business and hanging out with their own cliques, a foreign student is forcibly made to face the agony of having to deal with an emotional roller-coaster ride. Finding one's own identity in a different place, where everything functions differently can be a very challenging phase and the process of alienation begins with this quest for identity.

In my case, I don't take classes or live in the same building as the other students, so I haven't really been alienated. Instead, I lead a separate life in the no-man's-land between undergraduate and graduate school where I am free to focus on my "quest for identity." Despite this self-imposed isolation, I am still aware of the vastly different experiences that exchange students can have: European and American undergrads who party in Clarke Quay and escape to overseas beaches every weekend and Asian grad students who routinely come back from lab past midnight on weeknights and do additional experiments on the weekend.

On the opposite page was a similarly thought-provoking article: "Standardizing Knowledge: with the industrialization of education and standardisation of knowledge, what will happen to the human pursuit of knowledge in the future?" Thet Lin Thu writes:

Apparently, in NUS, there is little evidence of pursuit of knowledge. Higher education means nothing more than following the trodden path, discovering the inevitable and scoring the perfect grade. The two terms "knowledge" and "education", perhaps at least in Singapore, are in no way symbiotic with each other any longer."

Since I'm not taking any modules, anything that I write is based on what I hear from the students around me. According to the exchange students, there is a greater quantity of work compared to their home institutions, but it is not necessarily more difficult. The classes are sometimes disorganized, since NUS recently changed from a teaching- to a research-focused university.

Last week, while I was chatting about plastic bags with fellow environmentally-inclined islanders, one of my friends went to a screening of Singapore Dreaming. Apparently, there was a lively discussion afterwards that clarified many East/West differences. Once again, as reported by The Ridge:

While the West often has a “follow your heart!” philosophy, Singaporeans tend to feel that we cannot afford to be idealistic in this pragmatic society. Su said a lot of his peers gave up what they wanted to do after they went to university, owing to parental and societal pressures and the lure of financial rewards. He also said that if one were to choose the idealistic route, he/she cannot expect to attain monetary rewards.

I definitely agree with that statement. I know many people back in the States who changed from math and physics to comparative literature to economics or computer science to pre-med or pre-med to linguistics, which would be next to impossible here in Singapore. I am deeply grateful for the freedom to travel around the island, talking with various taxi drivers, a street musician in Boat Quay, a chain-smoking Aussie winemaker, a Filipino bakery employee, a Bay Area architecture student, a Kiwi law student, and numerous others in my quest for identity.

Green Drinks in Singapore

Last night I went to the second meeting of the Green Drinks society in Singapore at Food #03 in Little India. Although I was tempted by the Vitagen Vodka, I decided to do my liver a favor and had a glass of some beetroot-carrot-celery-potato juice. I ended up staying for several hours, talking with other islanders about environmental issues.

I ran into Paul Yeoh, Singapore's premier raw foods chef, at the event. He faces a difficult challenge, since his culinary philosophy can be summarized as the antithesis of the traditional Singaporean diet. Since there are no animal products, that eliminates bak kut teh, char kway teow, chicken rice, chili crab, ... [rest of alphabet]. Since nothing can be heated, that eliminates all types of traditional rice, noodles, and porridge, as well as pretty much all Indian vegetarian food. Proponents claim that such a diet is far healthier, by keeping beneficial enzymes in the food alive. They also claim environmental benefits, since no energy is required to heat the food, but I wonder about the power requirements for their high-speed blenders.

I also met Hendrik, who represents the opposite of Singapore's shopaholic culture. He grew up in the environmentally-savvy nation of Sweden and felt quite a culture shock in consumer-driven Singapore. His goal for the year is to avoid purchasing any type of packaged product. He makes his own soap, shampoo, dishwashing liquid, etc. More recently, he found that he can collect the branches from neem trees in the national parks, so he doesn't need to buy toothpaste. Moreover, he rides his bike to work every day, which seems like it would be a rather frightening experience. He explained that confidence is the key: ride in the center of the lane and smile-and-wave to any vehicles that honk.

The conversation quickly turned to plastic bags: a ubiquitous part of Singaporean culture. One brilliant idea is to start charging people for plastic bag use, like they do in Sweden. Making people pay 10 cents per bag, for instance, would do wonders for bargain-hunting Singaporeans. The fact that the government hasn't taken such simple action makes one wonder about the power of the plastic bag lobby.

Continuing with the theme of the government, someone from England talked about the skepticism that people have towards the government health agencies, especially after the mad cow epidemic. He asked if people in Singapore had similar views and everyone else laughed. Paul asked if the Health Promotion Board could persuade people to eat more raw, local, organic vegetables. A former employee in that agency explained that it is already difficult enough for people to eat their vegetables (the token cucumber served with Chicken Rice probably isn't enough).

Towards the end of the night, people were getting more philosophical. Singapore used to be covered in by rain forest, making it one of the most biologically diverse places in the world. That has been replaced by a plethora of air-conditioned shopping malls and hawker centers, so our very existence on the island is already destroying countless species. Even without probiotic-infused alcohol, it's possible to get carried away with trying to save the world.