Now tell me this isn't real...
The old state of East Germany is famous for a lot of things that are not very pleasant --- the secret police, or Stasi, comes to mind as being the worst the country had to offer (the movie "The Lives of Others" or "Das Leben der Anderen" gives an idea of how the Stasi operated --- it is a frightening but wonderful film). Despite the bad things of the old east, one is forced to also admit that some very great things came from East Germany as well. Some people are even nostalgic for the old East German times --- thus coining the modern German portmanteau "Ostalgie" (from Ost, meaning East, and Nostalgia).
Even from a western perspective there are some unquestionably awesome things that were produced by East Germany. Katarina Witt, perhaps the most popular ice skater ever, comes immediately to mind. A bit more obscure, but certainly just as awesome, is the legendary Ampelmann: the hat-sporting character on East German pedestrian traffic lights. The Ampelmann has now achieved cult status --- with entire stores in Germany devoted to selling products, such as tee-shirts, bearing his likeness (you can also order Amplemann products on the web, here).
Here are closeups of the Amplemann in his two possible poses.
And in these two photos below, I have crossed a street in Berlin at the kind direction of the Amplemann.
Now to finish off this blog post, I think it would be entirely appropriate to post photos of Katarina Witt. My younger brother is a big fan (he just loves Olympic skating) and I thought that maybe, if I post some pictures of her, he might actually read my blog.
This is Katarina Witt in her gold-medal-winning Carmen routine from the 1988 Olympics in Calgary (she also won gold in 1984 in Sarajevo). I remember watching that performance. She was stunning (here is a video of it, or here). She also earned some international cred by being completely unimpressed with famed slalom gold-medalist and lady's man Alberto Tomba. After he declared publicly that he would woo her at the Olympics, her only response was "I don't think he knows very much about figure skating."
And this is Ms. Witt, a few years later, and off the ice. She certainly looks a lot better than Alberto Tomba.
This picture on the left appears to be the reactor core of the Death Star. Looking down into the hot blue nuclear furnace, this reminds me of the scene where Obi-Wan has to disable the tractor beam so that the Millennium Falcon can escape the clutches of the evil empire (shown on the right).
Actually the picture on the left is not really from Star Wars. It is a photo from the inside of the Reichstag Dome in Berlin looking down into the debating chamber of the Bundestag below. The blue things are the seats of the Bundestag.
The symbolism of the dome, which is open to tourists, is that the people should always remain above the government. And the futuristic design is supposed to symbolize that Germany is moving into the future away from its ugly past. (These interpretations are gleaned from Wikipedia. I am not wise enough to be able to interpret architecture on my own.)
While I like the idea of having such symbolism, you might think the architect, Norman Foster, might have designed something that looked a bit less like the inside of the Death Star (he also designed London's futuristic Gherkin). On my visit to the Reichstag Dome, I half expected R2D2 to come running around the corner at any moment.
May the Force be with her!
Added: How could I have mentioned the death star without posting a link to this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv5iEK-IEzw
If you come from an American school you are probably used to the idea that graduation occurs once per year on some random weekend day in May or June, during which the college town overflows with family and friends.
But this is not how it works at Oxford. There are something like a dozen degree ceremonies per year. Once you have been given permission to graduate (or if you are a DPhil, it is called "leave to supplicate", which strictly speaking means, "permission to beg" for your degree), you then have the right to sign up for a ceremony. This can be shortly after you finish, or could be many years later. It is not at all unusual for people to return to Oxford to finally collect a degree they earned twenty or more years ago.
In September, a whole bunch of my recently finishing undergraduate students decided to collect their degrees together. This most excellent bunch, having (most of them) started four years ago this week and finished this past June, is the first set of students who I have seen through from their first year to their last. So I admit that I am particularly attached to them. I came to the ceremony just to wish them well, and of course, to take their pictures!
.. and here they are!
Apologies for the fact that some of the pictures are not great. Extra points if you can spot the portrait of Mary Somerville, the namesake of our college.
But this is not how it works at Oxford. There are something like a dozen degree ceremonies per year. Once you have been given permission to graduate (or if you are a DPhil, it is called "leave to supplicate", which strictly speaking means, "permission to beg" for your degree), you then have the right to sign up for a ceremony. This can be shortly after you finish, or could be many years later. It is not at all unusual for people to return to Oxford to finally collect a degree they earned twenty or more years ago.
In September, a whole bunch of my recently finishing undergraduate students decided to collect their degrees together. This most excellent bunch, having (most of them) started four years ago this week and finished this past June, is the first set of students who I have seen through from their first year to their last. So I admit that I am particularly attached to them. I came to the ceremony just to wish them well, and of course, to take their pictures!
.. and here they are!
Apologies for the fact that some of the pictures are not great. Extra points if you can spot the portrait of Mary Somerville, the namesake of our college.
One thing that is actually nice about all the light drizzle around here is that you get quite a few good rainbows. (For those who might not recognize it, that is Keble College on the right and the Clarendon lab of the physics department straight ahead). 
Just as I was taking this photo my colleague John Chalker came up behind me and said "Don't let anyone see you doing that, or they might force you to teach optics!"
It is that time
of year again when the brightest of the brightest lie awake at night wondering
whether they will get that elusive call from Stockholm. For the rest of us, it is that time of year
when we place our bets and take our chances.
Official betting
odds have the Higgs boson as the heavy favorite. See the official odds here. The odds stand at roughly 1 in 3 that
the prize will be somehow related to the Higgs. Although at least seven people
have some possibility of being included in this prize, the favorite combination
appears to be Higgs and Englert.
That said, betting odds are not everything. The betting odds for Bob Dylan winning the
literature prize are now almost 1 in 10. However, these odds have apparently been artificially pushed up by many people who like the idea of putting their money on the
rebellious bard. (Still, Murukami
remains the odds-on favorite for literature).
So do I think
Higgs will win the prize? Yawn. Yes, I think that is probably the best bet for this year. (The atlantic monthly says it is a sure thing).
2. Slow Light, Steven Harris and Lena Hau. Yeah, this was pretty cool. And it would be very nice to have another woman physics Nobel Laureate. But again, I somehow don’t think this is a likely one.
3. Quantum Teleportation, Charles H. Bennett, Gilles Brassard, and William K.
Wootters. This one is interesting, and potentially possible. But I
think it is slightly the wrong combination. The teleportation paper was 1993 --- and it had seven authors. I would instead choose Quantum Cryptography
(which came first by many years) and award the prize to Bennet and Brassard (for their
1984 paper) along with Stephen Wiesner, for work in the early 1970s which had some of the key ideas in it. In some ways the ideas that these guys were working on in the 70's and 80's really launched the quantum information field. (Also Wiesner is an interesting character --- a bit of a hermit genius.)
I still have my money on Higgs, but the quantum option an interesting one.
And who else should be on the list?
For a number of years I've been saying Michael Berry for the famous "Berry Phase". Yes, I know there were several previous discoveries of Berry Phase before Berry, but no one really nailed the issue the same way that Berry did. A possible combination (and one I'd really like to see) with Berry would be David Thouless. I used to think Yakir Aharonov would be a good combination with Berry until I found out about this paper by Ehrenberg and Siday which was ten years before Aharonov-Bohm and has basically the same result.
And who else should be on the list?
For a number of years I've been saying Michael Berry for the famous "Berry Phase". Yes, I know there were several previous discoveries of Berry Phase before Berry, but no one really nailed the issue the same way that Berry did. A possible combination (and one I'd really like to see) with Berry would be David Thouless. I used to think Yakir Aharonov would be a good combination with Berry until I found out about this paper by Ehrenberg and Siday which was ten years before Aharonov-Bohm and has basically the same result.
Another one that no one besides me seems to think is likely is the discovery of neutrino mass by the Super-K collaboration. I guess the problem there is that it is not clear which person (or people) would get the prize. It is certainly deserving though.
Anyone else have opinions?
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Shrunken Heads and Other Fun Things
Labels:
General Nonsense,
Travel,
UK
When the British Empire spanned the globe, one thing they liked to do was to collect things from the outer reaches of the known world. Lieutenant-General (pronounced "Left-tennant" here) Augustus Henry Lane-Fox Pitt Rivers was particularly good at collecting things wherever he traveled. His collection of, well, what his mother must have thought was complete junk, formed the basis of what became Oxford's Pitt River's (and natural history) museum.
While there are many many strange things in this museum, probably the most bizarre is the collection of shrunken heads or tsantas. Here is one of the best looking of the collection In case you can't read it, the sign behind it says "Scalp of an enemy painted red on the inside. The holes round the edges indicate it has been stretched on a hoop --- N. American Indian"
They make these by removing the skin from the skull and then steaming the skin until it shrinks down to a tiny size. Yuck.
Here is a photo of some more shrunken heads, this time with my hand in the photo so you get a size of how small they are. The small guy on the bottom reminds me a bit of my brother when he is making his "vulture face". It is hard to believe (and it is rather disgusting to think) that these were once people!
The museum is just filled with crazy stuff from all over the world. If you've read the recent best-seller "Remarkable Creatures" by the author of "Girl with a Pearl Earring", you will be excited to know that many of the things collected by Mary Anning are in this museum as well.
For those who have not read the book --- don't worry there is a movie being made. If you can't wait for the movie, Mary Anning was a fossil hunter in the 1800's who discovered some of the very first dinosaurs. And although she was working class, a spinster (a woman, for that matter), and not very well educated, she overturned the scientific establishment and became the world expert on fossils. On the left are some of her smaller finds (The tag above says "Teeth of Large Marine Reptiles")
Among the other things they have in this museum is a huge collection of minerals. I tried to get some good photos for my upcoming solid state physics book (very very close to done now!) but it turns out to be very hard to get nice photos of a rock.
The museum has a grand central hall filled with large dinosaur skeletons, large animal skeletons, stuffed animals, a stuffed (now extinct) dodo bird and countless other strange beasts.
On the particular day I visited the museum, two other animals were on display:
These are my parents.
They make these by removing the skin from the skull and then steaming the skin until it shrinks down to a tiny size. Yuck.
Here is a photo of some more shrunken heads, this time with my hand in the photo so you get a size of how small they are. The small guy on the bottom reminds me a bit of my brother when he is making his "vulture face". It is hard to believe (and it is rather disgusting to think) that these were once people!
The museum is just filled with crazy stuff from all over the world. If you've read the recent best-seller "Remarkable Creatures" by the author of "Girl with a Pearl Earring", you will be excited to know that many of the things collected by Mary Anning are in this museum as well.
For those who have not read the book --- don't worry there is a movie being made. If you can't wait for the movie, Mary Anning was a fossil hunter in the 1800's who discovered some of the very first dinosaurs. And although she was working class, a spinster (a woman, for that matter), and not very well educated, she overturned the scientific establishment and became the world expert on fossils. On the left are some of her smaller finds (The tag above says "Teeth of Large Marine Reptiles")
Among the other things they have in this museum is a huge collection of minerals. I tried to get some good photos for my upcoming solid state physics book (very very close to done now!) but it turns out to be very hard to get nice photos of a rock.
The museum has a grand central hall filled with large dinosaur skeletons, large animal skeletons, stuffed animals, a stuffed (now extinct) dodo bird and countless other strange beasts.
On the particular day I visited the museum, two other animals were on display:
These are my parents.
Last week my parents came to visit. It was great to see them and it was really fun to do all the London and Oxford touristy things that one never does if one lives here.
For some of the visit my parents stayed in Oxford at my house (which, as mentioned here and here, I actually cleaned.) For some of their visit, however, they stayed in London -- at a rather appropriate place --- see the picture on the right --- I've always said that my family is a bit nutty!
One morning last week we went to the Imperial War Museum, which is a terrific collection of the history of the UK during war. They have a great (albeit depressing, as expected) exhibition on the holocaust. They also have a terrific (and more upbeat) exhibition on MI5 and MI6 (James Bond stuff), and lots of interesting stories about soldiers. Perhaps most interesting though is the huge collection of artifacts from the wars.
On the left here is a V2 rocket. These things landed on London during WWII carrying thousands of pounds of explosives. In some respects the Brits managed to outfox the Nazi's at every turn during the war -- but the V2 was one case where Hitler really had the upper hand --- there was just no defense against this thing. It came in fast and silently and caused tons of damage.
During the final years of the war, thousands of these things landed in England -- and thousands of people were killed by them. Made by slave labor, interestingly enough, roughly one person was killed in the production of these devices for each person who was killed by them exploding on their targets.
Technologically, however, these things were a marvel. Built by the young and brilliant Wernher von Braun, the V2 was the direct predecessor of almost every rocket ever built thereafter. After the war, von Braun's Nazi history was secretly expunged and with false papers he was recruited to work for the US defense and space program. His greatest achievement was the Saturn V rocket that put men on the moon. He may be the only person who was both a hero to Nazi Germany and then many years later a hero to the US.
On the lighter side, here is a photo of a Sopwith Camel -- a combat airplane from the first world war. Although I'm sure there were many bloody dogfights with this type of early aircraft, the Sopwith Camel is perhaps most famous now as being the airplane that Snoopy supposedly flew in combat against the Red Baron.
Here he is in action
Er... ok, maybe there is some similarity....
One morning last week we went to the Imperial War Museum, which is a terrific collection of the history of the UK during war. They have a great (albeit depressing, as expected) exhibition on the holocaust. They also have a terrific (and more upbeat) exhibition on MI5 and MI6 (James Bond stuff), and lots of interesting stories about soldiers. Perhaps most interesting though is the huge collection of artifacts from the wars.
On the left here is a V2 rocket. These things landed on London during WWII carrying thousands of pounds of explosives. In some respects the Brits managed to outfox the Nazi's at every turn during the war -- but the V2 was one case where Hitler really had the upper hand --- there was just no defense against this thing. It came in fast and silently and caused tons of damage.
During the final years of the war, thousands of these things landed in England -- and thousands of people were killed by them. Made by slave labor, interestingly enough, roughly one person was killed in the production of these devices for each person who was killed by them exploding on their targets.Technologically, however, these things were a marvel. Built by the young and brilliant Wernher von Braun, the V2 was the direct predecessor of almost every rocket ever built thereafter. After the war, von Braun's Nazi history was secretly expunged and with false papers he was recruited to work for the US defense and space program. His greatest achievement was the Saturn V rocket that put men on the moon. He may be the only person who was both a hero to Nazi Germany and then many years later a hero to the US.
Here he is in action
Er... ok, maybe there is some similarity....
More on playing tourist later...
I'm posting this info because both of these computer things cost me hours of grief and I'm hoping by posting them and having them google searchable, others will not suffer.
(1) Upgrading to mac-osx lion, I found that the x2go client would not properly detect the mac keyboard. Go to settings, keyboard, and type in pc104 where it is default pc105. This fixes the problem (at least for me it did).
I still have a few problems with x2go. But logging into my linux box from my mac, I find that kde4 and LXDE run fine. The other window managers still give me trouble and crashed frequently.
(2) Writing a program in gfortran or g77 in ubuntu 12.04:
I had trouble running the program if the program requires over 2Gb of RAM. The computer has 6GB so this should not cause trouble. This caused me half a day of grief. The solution was first, to include the compile flag (this is expected)
-mcmodel=medium
But even then, when the program wanted more than 2Gb, the program would compile but not link. I then installed binutils-gold which swaps out the linker for a newer (and faster) version, and it works.
I'm still hunting down some bugs, but for some reason when my program takes more than 2Gb of memory, I'm still getting errors when I compile using gfortran. But it works fine under g77, so maybe I'll just stick with that. If anyone cares to debug, here is my info:
$ gfortran -v
Using built-in specs.
COLLECT_GCC=gfortran
COLLECT_LTO_WRAPPER=/usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/4.6/lto-wrapper
Target: x86_64-linux-gnu
Configured with: ../src/configure -v --with-pkgversion='Ubuntu/Linaro 4.6.3-1ubuntu5' --with-bugurl=file:///usr/share/doc/gcc-4.6/README.Bugs --enable-languages=c,c++,fortran,objc,obj-c++ --prefix=/usr --program-suffix=-4.6 --enable-shared --enable-linker-build-id --with-system-zlib --libexecdir=/usr/lib --without-included-gettext --enable-threads=posix --with-gxx-include-dir=/usr/include/c++/4.6 --libdir=/usr/lib --enable-nls --with-sysroot=/ --enable-clocale=gnu --enable-libstdcxx-debug --enable-libstdcxx-time=yes --enable-gnu-unique-object --enable-plugin --enable-objc-gc --disable-werror --with-arch-32=i686 --with-tune=generic --enable-checking=release --build=x86_64-linux-gnu --host=x86_64-linux-gnu --target=x86_64-linux-gnu
Thread model: posix
gcc version 4.6.3 (Ubuntu/Linaro 4.6.3-1ubuntu5)
$ g77 -v
Reading specs from /usr/lib/gcc/x86_64-linux-gnu/3.4.6/specs
Configured with: ../src/configure -v --enable-languages=c,c++,f77,pascal --prefix=/usr --libexecdir=/usr/lib --with-gxx-include-dir=/usr/include/c++/3.4 --enable-shared --with-system-zlib --enable-nls --without-included-gettext --program-suffix=-3.4 --enable-__cxa_atexit --enable-clocale=gnu --enable-libstdcxx-debug x86_64-linux-gnu
Thread model: posix
gcc version 3.4.6 (Ubuntu 3.4.6-6ubuntu5)
(the old linker)
$ld.bfd -v
GNU ld (GNU Binutils for Ubuntu) 2.22
(the new linker)
$ ld -v
GNU gold (GNU Binutils for Ubuntu 2.22) 1.11
I'll be honest. I'm a slob. I've always been a slob. My house usually looks like a disaster area. Sometimes (like in this post) this causes problems.
On the left is a view of the sofa in the living room. It is a nice piece of furniture when it is not covered in the usual mess. Now I can actually sit on it without causing a landslide (this makes me the sofa king?) Notice that you can actually see the floor through the glass coffee table. For me, this is unusual.
I suppose I don't have to post pictures of every single room in the house, but it suffices to say that all of them have been made similarly tidy. Even the garden has been ... well... improved at least.
For any of my friends who want to come visit, now would be a very good time to do so. Presumably, the house will decay slowly back to its natural state of being a complete dump. So if you want to come and stay in anything other than a dump, I recommend you do so now.
Having a clean apartment has resulted in some unexpected benefits. On the right is a picture of my "office" (also known as "the other side of the living room"). Notice that you can actually see the surface of the desk. That makes the desk functional. Once I got everything functional again I decided it might be kind of cool to try working there instead of at the university -- and actually I kind of like it. I wake up in the morning, I can go right to work, and I can stop to take a nap when I feel like it. In the last few days, I've been working here a lot, and actually I've been pretty efficient.
Maybe I'll turn over a new leaf and become a cleaner person.
Maybe.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about my excitement over installing Linux 12.04.1. (Non linuxers need read no further).
Since then, as luck would have it, for work I've been writing some code. Although this is not something I do a lot of, I do need to do it occasionally. This code, based on a program I wrote a few years ago, is about 10,000 lines --- not huge perhaps, but still enough to be a project. Anyway, this gave me an opportunity to stress test 12.04.1 and see how much I like it when I have dozens of windows open at the same time: editors, debuggers, octave, data analysis, as well as the usual assortment of browsers, skype, and you-tube videos of skateboarding dogs.
After some getting used to, I decided that the Unity interface is ok. I installed the Gnome classic menu and then never touched the HUD or Dash or whatever they call that thing. I suppose if I'm not using the Dash, I'm probably missing the whole point.
However, there was a major problem with Unity. As I mentioned in my earlier posting, the killer-app for me was NXFree -- the world's best virtual desktop. Wherever I took my laptop, I could access my home computer with ease -- even on a slow connection. Unfortunately, once I made the upgrade, NXFree broke. Even with a fair amount of work, I failed to make NXFree function properly. Fortunately, there is an alternate program, x2go which is based on the same nxlibraries and works just as well, and it did seem to still work correctly -- but not for the Unity interface. As a result, I started trying different window managers to see which one I could learn to love -- so that I would get used to the same environment whether I was at work or at home.
Here is the list of the environments I tried so far (in alphabetical order).
Cairo-Dock (Gnome + Effects)
Cairo-Dock (Gnome No effects)
Cairo-Dock (with Unity Panel)
Cinnamon
Enlightenment
Fluxbox
GNOME Classic
GNOME3
GNOME Classic (No effects)
KDE Plasma Workspace
LXDE
MATE
Openbox
GNOME/Openbox
KDE/Openbox
Razor Desktop
Razor Desktop (kwin)
Razor Desktop (metacity)
Razor Desktop (openbox)
Ubuntu 2D (Unity 2D)
Ubuntu (Unity)
Xfce
Xubuntu
Of these, my favorites (all which seem to work really well over x2go) are
Enlightenment
Since then, as luck would have it, for work I've been writing some code. Although this is not something I do a lot of, I do need to do it occasionally. This code, based on a program I wrote a few years ago, is about 10,000 lines --- not huge perhaps, but still enough to be a project. Anyway, this gave me an opportunity to stress test 12.04.1 and see how much I like it when I have dozens of windows open at the same time: editors, debuggers, octave, data analysis, as well as the usual assortment of browsers, skype, and you-tube videos of skateboarding dogs.
After some getting used to, I decided that the Unity interface is ok. I installed the Gnome classic menu and then never touched the HUD or Dash or whatever they call that thing. I suppose if I'm not using the Dash, I'm probably missing the whole point.
However, there was a major problem with Unity. As I mentioned in my earlier posting, the killer-app for me was NXFree -- the world's best virtual desktop. Wherever I took my laptop, I could access my home computer with ease -- even on a slow connection. Unfortunately, once I made the upgrade, NXFree broke. Even with a fair amount of work, I failed to make NXFree function properly. Fortunately, there is an alternate program, x2go which is based on the same nxlibraries and works just as well, and it did seem to still work correctly -- but not for the Unity interface. As a result, I started trying different window managers to see which one I could learn to love -- so that I would get used to the same environment whether I was at work or at home.
Here is the list of the environments I tried so far (in alphabetical order).
Cairo-Dock (Gnome + Effects)
Cairo-Dock (Gnome No effects)
Cairo-Dock (with Unity Panel)
Cinnamon
Enlightenment
Fluxbox
GNOME Classic
GNOME3
GNOME Classic (No effects)
KDE Plasma Workspace
LXDE
MATE
Openbox
GNOME/Openbox
KDE/Openbox
Razor Desktop
Razor Desktop (kwin)
Razor Desktop (metacity)
Razor Desktop (openbox)
Ubuntu 2D (Unity 2D)
Ubuntu (Unity)
Xfce
Xubuntu
Of these, my favorites (all which seem to work really well over x2go) are
Enlightenment
KDE/Openbox
MATE
Does anyone have any other favorites I should try out?
MATE
Does anyone have any other favorites I should try out?
Probably the very best moment of the year for any teaching faculty member is the moment when the last lecture is over and the class applauds. You are happy to just be done with another exhausting term; but moreover, it is really wonderful when students show their appreciation for your hard work, and for the subject.
I should say at this point, that Oxford students are extremely good about showing appreciation of faculty. (I suppose this should not have surprised me, but when I arrived here I was not expecting it). The students always say "thank you" at the end of every tutorial. Most of them really do seem to understand how much work teaching is -- and most of them do realize that they are very lucky to have so much personal attention from faculty members.
One gets positive feedback in other ways too. Of course there are the official student evaluations. Mine are usually good --- I work hard to make sure of it. I take it very hard when even a single evaluation is negative. Maybe I shouldn't care so much, but I do.
There can be occasional awards as well. Last spring I was thrilled to be nominated as a finalist for a teaching award from the Oxford Student Union. (Look here for details).
There can be occasional awards as well. Last spring I was thrilled to be nominated as a finalist for a teaching award from the Oxford Student Union. (Look here for details).
And there are some random other ways students show gratitude. This year, the graduating Somerville students got me a plant -- a bromeliad (wisely chosen because it is fairly hard to kill --- and so far it is still alive!).
... and then there are occasional creative types of appreciation: After my last lecture last spring I found in my "pidge" (i.e., mailbox) the picture shown above by an anonymous student. The topic of the lecture was self-consistent mean field theory in magnetism. (Note the magnet in the upper left hand corner, and the words "self-consistency" featured prominently. Not sure what the flower is doing there though). It is not a bad likeness of me, no? It certainly made me smile.
Keeping the plants in my backyard under control is a sisyphean task. No matter how many weeds I remove, they seem to come back bigger and stronger. Two years ago I wrote this blog post about my attempts to remove the overgrown nettles. Despite hours of work, you will notice that the "before" and "after" pictures don't look all that different.
The following summer, I was even more defeated by the task. Not only do the giant spiders hate me, but even the plants themselves hate me. When my yard began to look like the amazon jungle, and the risk of wild animals roosting became too great, the college (who owns my house) kindly sent their gardeners over to clean up the mess. On the one hand, I was very appreciative of help. On the other hand, I felt very bad giving the college gardeners extra work --- they do a wonderful job with the college grounds, and they really don't need an extra yard to deal with.
So this summer, after all my travels were done, I decided that I would take serious aim at the backyard. I learned a few lessons from my previous attempts.
Lesson 1. Get thicker gloves.
Lesson 2. Always keep the giant spiders where you can see them.
So prepared, I spent the last few afternoons filling about 20 large trash bags with weeds. Here are the before and after photos.
The following summer, I was even more defeated by the task. Not only do the giant spiders hate me, but even the plants themselves hate me. When my yard began to look like the amazon jungle, and the risk of wild animals roosting became too great, the college (who owns my house) kindly sent their gardeners over to clean up the mess. On the one hand, I was very appreciative of help. On the other hand, I felt very bad giving the college gardeners extra work --- they do a wonderful job with the college grounds, and they really don't need an extra yard to deal with.
So this summer, after all my travels were done, I decided that I would take serious aim at the backyard. I learned a few lessons from my previous attempts.
Lesson 1. Get thicker gloves.
Lesson 2. Always keep the giant spiders where you can see them.
So prepared, I spent the last few afternoons filling about 20 large trash bags with weeds. Here are the before and after photos.
Can you tell the difference this time?
PS: broken link is now fixed.
This is so cool
http://io9.com/5937052/this-beautiful-video-about-parabolas-will-100-blow-your-mind?tag=this-is-awesome
This got me hooked on Vi Hart's videos.http://vihart.com/doodling/
She is my new hero.
http://io9.com/5937052/this-beautiful-video-about-parabolas-will-100-blow-your-mind?tag=this-is-awesome
This got me hooked on Vi Hart's videos.http://vihart.com/doodling/
She is my new hero.
The person in front of me was Randy Giles, a colleague from my Bell Labs days. Randy was one of the star research directors and I remembered (albeit only after he reminded me) that about the same time as I left Bell, he was tapped to head the newly formed Bell Labs Korea branch. Honestly though, if someone had asked me last week “who do you know who lives in Seoul”?, I would not have been able to come up with a single name (save Kwon Park who was organizing the physics conference I was attending this week at the Korean Institute for Advanced Studies). The fact that I ran into Randy in the airport was quite a coincidence. It is indeed a very small world.
As it turned out, Randy had come to the airport to pick up the president of Bell Labs, Jeong Kim, who was visiting Korea for the week. Jeong’s flight landed only a few minutes after mine, and he found us after I had been talking to Randy for only about two minutes. Jeong remembered me too (“Yes, you are the Quantum Guy”). They very kindly they offered to have their extra driver take me to my hotel rather than have me struggle with the bus system. They also invited me to come by the labs, give a talk, look around and meet some of the team.
On Wednesday afternoon there were no talks in my conference, so I arranged to head over to Bell Labs. I gave an impromptu talk on topological quantum computation. Being that Bell still has a few people working on this subject, I thought it certainly wouldn’t hurt to promte the field in general. The talk went over well I think –-- even though the audience was a mix of computer scientists, network scientists, engineers, and only one physicist. After this I spent some time chatting with one of their engineers on the subject of MIMO communications –-- a flashback to one of my previous research lives (I took the opportunity to point out this paper –-- which is one of my favorite nasty calculations).
I joined the members of the lab for a nice dinner. As it turned out, one of their ranks is leaving this week to take a job at a university and they were having a little farewell party that night. At dinner, I made a special request for a bibimbap. I realize this was like saying “I really need to have a burger” when you are in a three star restaurant --- bibimbap is really considered to be student-food, or even drunk-food. But I like the stuff, and while I could get a good bibimbap in New York on 33rd street, I have not had any since moving to the UK. Being that my time in Seoul was running out, I was not to be denied a good bibimbap --- and the restaurant did not disappoint.
When you travel a
lot you get fairly good at packing. You
know what you have to bring and you rarely forget anything important. However, on my last trip (to Seoul), I somehow forgot
to pack a belt, and for the entire week --- no matter what I did, my
jeans kept falling down. Among
physicists no one really cares, but out in public I looked like an extremely
schlumpy professor, or maybe I looked like I’m trying to be a bit too hip-hop. I fear that this is how it starts… pretty
soon, I’ll go entirely one way or the other.
This comment was left on my blog by "Anonymous", but i wanted to give it a bit of attention:
***
Hey Steve,
I wanted to solicit your thoughts on a topic. Physics has a culture . I thought of this when looking at this post about the conference. Going to the board. Working with other people--thinking on the fly--at the board. The value of scribbling together. Taking walks. The value of re-presenting someone else work in a new form. The value of articulating a problem. The low value placed on facts--the you could look that up feeling. the way of writing down ideas to make intuition clear--the feynman style. There are so many things. I work in Biology now, and there is a very different culture where these things are absent. Boards dont even exist. Everything is power point. And everyone constantly talks about facts--facts first--always can you be more specific--can you make that concrete. I really feel that these cultural attributes have contributed to the success of physics--and I dont want them to be lost in a world dominated by engineering disciplines and biology. In fact, biology has not really been successful given all the resources it has--and I feel that part of this is the intellectual tradition.
***
While I do think the interactive physics culture of bouncing ideas around is extremely productive (and fun), I'm not sure one can conclude that it should be appropriate for all fields. There must be some amount of Darwinism of cultures in the various branches of sciences --- if this culture worked in other fields, people would adopt it more. Conversely, the reason other fields have other cultures is probably because their culture is effective for their fields.
Admittedly there are some pieces of culture that continue for not-so-good reasons (e.g. powerpoint) but still, there must be something to the fact that the different fields operate differently from each other.
On the side, I'm not sure it is fair to conclude that "biology has not really been successful". While there are immense unknowns in biology, it is also true that the progress that has been made in biology in the past fifty years is really mind-boggling.
***
Hey Steve,
I wanted to solicit your thoughts on a topic. Physics has a culture . I thought of this when looking at this post about the conference. Going to the board. Working with other people--thinking on the fly--at the board. The value of scribbling together. Taking walks. The value of re-presenting someone else work in a new form. The value of articulating a problem. The low value placed on facts--the you could look that up feeling. the way of writing down ideas to make intuition clear--the feynman style. There are so many things. I work in Biology now, and there is a very different culture where these things are absent. Boards dont even exist. Everything is power point. And everyone constantly talks about facts--facts first--always can you be more specific--can you make that concrete. I really feel that these cultural attributes have contributed to the success of physics--and I dont want them to be lost in a world dominated by engineering disciplines and biology. In fact, biology has not really been successful given all the resources it has--and I feel that part of this is the intellectual tradition.
***
While I do think the interactive physics culture of bouncing ideas around is extremely productive (and fun), I'm not sure one can conclude that it should be appropriate for all fields. There must be some amount of Darwinism of cultures in the various branches of sciences --- if this culture worked in other fields, people would adopt it more. Conversely, the reason other fields have other cultures is probably because their culture is effective for their fields.
Admittedly there are some pieces of culture that continue for not-so-good reasons (e.g. powerpoint) but still, there must be something to the fact that the different fields operate differently from each other.
On the side, I'm not sure it is fair to conclude that "biology has not really been successful". While there are immense unknowns in biology, it is also true that the progress that has been made in biology in the past fifty years is really mind-boggling.
The last time I was in Seoul was in April of 1989 --- I was on tour with the Brown University Jazz Band at the time, and our first stop was Seoul.
(Nick Valentino: I know you are reading this. Did we do a concert in Seoul, or did we just stop by to see the sights and recover from jet lag on our way to Tokyo? I think the latter.).
In the more than two decades since I was last here, Seoul has apparently changed a lot. Many huge buildings and new neighborhoods have arisen, and the city has become a bustling modern metropolis where it seemed far less modernized twenty years ago --- not quite third world then, but not fully modern either. Now, every street corner seems to have a hip modern coffee shop which would be rated as fashionable and stylish even by the standards of SoHo. Possibly the most notable change is in the fashions you see people wearing. The people of Seoul now dress indistinguishably from, if not even better than, the people in New York. The only thing you might notice different in their outward appearance is that they are all text messaging Korean characters.
One thing that has not changed about Korea is the level of hospitality. Foreigners, although much less unusual than they were in 1989, are still treated as honored guests. My good friend Jinha from grad school called up her friend June, who lives in Seoul, who quickly volunteered to take me out for a proper Korean meal. It was fantastic. (The highlight was probably the mushroom soup --- mushrooms like angel hair). I try to be an adventurous eater, so I ate pretty much everything in sight and even signed up to try the favorite Korean delicacy ---
One thing that unfortunately could not be controlled is the weather. Coincident with my return to this country, a giant typhoon struck --- the worst in over a decade. Fortunately, Seoul was spared the worst of it, but some parts of the country got completely hammered with some major damage.
Added Comment: According to Nick Valentino, we did indeed play a concert in Seoul, although I have no recollection of it at all! I guess 20 years will do that to you!
Sunday, August 26, 2012
You can take the kid out of the Maserati ...
Labels:
General Nonsense,
Travel
Flying Alitalia is always a bit of a gamble. I learned long ago that your checked luggage rarely makes it to the same destination as you do -- carry-on is advised. Many flights are late, and one really has to have an "I'll get there when I get there" attitude.
Last week I scheduled a connection through Rome Fiumicino airport. Since my flight from Triest was delayed (of course) my connection was going to be really tight. I was already preparing myself mentally for a long stop in Rome waiting for the next flight. Much to my surprise, when I got off the plane I was met by a young representative from Alitalia holding a sign that said "London". I excitedly said "Si! London!" and the kid directed me into the back of his airport golf-cart. Even with a golf-cart I didn't think I would make my flight. And being that Fiumicino is extremely crowded I had my doubts that he would be able to move much faster than I could go running. I was wrong.
This kid drove the airport golf cart like it was a Maserati. He slammed on the horn, screamed "ATTENZIONE", and put the pedal to the metal. I hung on for dear life. People were jumping out of the way left and right like you only see in movies. I think more than one little-old-lady almost got killed by this guy. Honestly it was more frightening than skydiving. When we got to the passport control, he basically drove his little car right through the line (slowing down perhaps to half-speed) until we were right up at the front (a nice trick indeed)... and much to my amazement, I did make it to the gate in time for boarding. Of course since this was Alitalia, the flight to London was delayed by several hours anyway --- so there was no need at all to hurry. I'm sure the kid knew this too. He just wanted an excuse to drive like a maniac.
Last week I scheduled a connection through Rome Fiumicino airport. Since my flight from Triest was delayed (of course) my connection was going to be really tight. I was already preparing myself mentally for a long stop in Rome waiting for the next flight. Much to my surprise, when I got off the plane I was met by a young representative from Alitalia holding a sign that said "London". I excitedly said "Si! London!" and the kid directed me into the back of his airport golf-cart. Even with a golf-cart I didn't think I would make my flight. And being that Fiumicino is extremely crowded I had my doubts that he would be able to move much faster than I could go running. I was wrong.
This kid drove the airport golf cart like it was a Maserati. He slammed on the horn, screamed "ATTENZIONE", and put the pedal to the metal. I hung on for dear life. People were jumping out of the way left and right like you only see in movies. I think more than one little-old-lady almost got killed by this guy. Honestly it was more frightening than skydiving. When we got to the passport control, he basically drove his little car right through the line (slowing down perhaps to half-speed) until we were right up at the front (a nice trick indeed)... and much to my amazement, I did make it to the gate in time for boarding. Of course since this was Alitalia, the flight to London was delayed by several hours anyway --- so there was no need at all to hurry. I'm sure the kid knew this too. He just wanted an excuse to drive like a maniac.
Caution: Do not read any further if you are not a computer nerd.
My home desktop computer was assembled from parts bought from NewEgg in the winter of 2007. At that time, it was a top end machine. 1.5 GHz duo-core. 6 Gb ram. I started out using it as a Hackintosh, but eventually decided that I like Ubuntu better, and I've been using it that way ever since (I think the killer app that got me to switch was NXfree remote desktop -- which is amazing if you have never used it.). Since I bought it, it has required a new power supply, and a new graphics card, and I inserted two more disk drives for good measure. On the whole, though, it is still running extremely well. I didn't expect it to last five years, and although I probably should upgrade to a new motherboard sometime soon, it is running so well, I really don't see the need yet.
Although I admit to being a computer nerd, I don't want to spend too much time tweaking my system. So I don't upgrade to the bleeding-edge version of everything. Instead, I stick with stable versions for a while and only upgrade on occassion. I've been running Ubuntu Lucid 10.04 Long-Term Support for several years, and although I admit I've been itching to try 12.04, I dutifully followed the instructions "LTS users are recommended to wait until 12.04.1 before upgrading". Finally this week 12.04.1 was released.
Last night I got home from Trieste and started the upgrade process. I went to bed as the computer downloaded files for several hours. I woke up at 7 am, clicked OK a few times as I ate breakfast and packed for my next trip, and by 10 am, I had a working version of 12.04.1 !
There are probably a few things broken by the upgrade -- but so far remarkably few. My main complaint so far is the unity interface -- I realize these things require some getting used to. However, I can't imagine getting used to a transparent dashboard that is completely unreadable. Does anyone know how to make it opaque? (I have a hack that does this already, but there must be a better way).
The International Centre for Theoretical Physics was the brainchild of Nobel Laureate Abdus Salam who felt that a place was needed for international physics meetings. In particular he wanted a place to allow scientists in otherwise isolated nations to interact with the best of the best. Salam was a terrific politician and he managed to get funding from Italy, from the UN, and from the International Atomic Energy Agency to build this institute in Trieste Italy. Perhaps his greatest genius though was putting the Centre right on the beach of the Adriatic. This picture is the view from one of the guest-house balconies. Yes, admittedly only half of the rooms face the ocean. But still, whichever way your room faces, you only have to walk about 50 meters down the road to get to a beach. Awesome! Last week's conference at Trieste (which can only be called "Majorana Fest 2012") was an excellent (if perhaps a bit over-focused) short workshop bringing together some great researchers from all over. If you are curious you can listen to all the talks online here. My talk starts about two thirds through this file and then is finished in this file.
During this conference I tried out a new way of doing physics --- that would be physics while floating. One day, puzzled by some physics emails from collaborators, I decided to go for a swim. I floated on my back silently for half an hour and pondered these emails -- deciding on a route forward only after having become completely pruney. Feeling that this was productive, the following day I scheduled a physics meeting out in the water. Jason Alicea and I had a rather long discussion about topological physics in two and three dimensions -- -parafermions and fibonacci anyons and all sorts of other interesting things -- all while paddling around in the Adriatic. Somehow I really like this way of doing physics. Perhaps just because it is so different from the usual day at the office, it seems surprisingly productive. Maybe Abdus Salam had this in mind.
Sometimes my non-physics friends are curious about what working as a physicist is like. At conferences it is often a lot of talking and scribbling (either on paper or on chalkboards or whiteboards). Here are some pictures from the Stockholm conference. (All photo credits go to Joost Slingerland. I have a camera on my mobile phone too, but it only takes blurry pictures that could be the Loch Ness Monster).
Here is a picture of Fiona Burnell explaining to me some subtleties of topological gauge theories in 3+1 dimensions.
Yes, I admit I am the immature one who drew the elephant from the rear. And I'm also the immature one who drew the guy peaking out from the left. The rest of the chalkboard is an amalgam of several different conversations that occurred over the course of the week.
This picture was taken after a huge dinner at Herman's. From the right it is Jerome Dubail, his wife (I'm sorry I don't remember her first name right now. My memory for names is really terrible these days!), Gunnar Moller, and yours truly. Here we are sitting at picnic tables having just eaten everything in sight. Behind me is a brick wall, and behind the brick wall is a roughly 20 meter drop to a road, but then on the other side of the road is the sea. As you probably know, Stockholm is an archipelago, so from here you look over the water to see other parts of the city as the sun sets.
You probably can't read the whiteboard. I don't have a photo of the board after that particular discussion. To get a better idea of what our whiteboards look like, here is a photo from the room down the hall which many of us used as an office.
Yes, I admit I am the immature one who drew the elephant from the rear. And I'm also the immature one who drew the guy peaking out from the left. The rest of the chalkboard is an amalgam of several different conversations that occurred over the course of the week.
Conferences like this are certainly not all-work-and-no-play. Besides jumping out of airplanes, we also tend to go out for a fair number of good meals -- and not always just soup. One place that is exceptionally good in Stockholm is Herman's Vegetarian Cafe. If you are a vegetarian, or even if you are just a vegetarian sympathizer, the buffet at this place is wonderful.
This picture was taken after a huge dinner at Herman's. From the right it is Jerome Dubail, his wife (I'm sorry I don't remember her first name right now. My memory for names is really terrible these days!), Gunnar Moller, and yours truly. Here we are sitting at picnic tables having just eaten everything in sight. Behind me is a brick wall, and behind the brick wall is a roughly 20 meter drop to a road, but then on the other side of the road is the sea. As you probably know, Stockholm is an archipelago, so from here you look over the water to see other parts of the city as the sun sets. 
In this picture Shanna Haaker has just suggested that we could measure the drop from the brick wall to the road by jumping over the wall and timing the drop. I'm not sure if she meant that she should jump over the wall or if she meant that I should jump over the wall.
While I am usually a fairly healthy person, I have a bad string of luck for catching coughs and colds whenever I go to Stockholm. Being that it happened again this year, I really am beginning to think there is a trend -- a Stockholm syndrome perhaps.
Admittedly it seemed that there was just something going around last week. Several of the physicists were sick for a day or two. I was doing pretty well until the day I was scheduled to fly home to Oxford when I started to feel like my head was going to explode. Unfortunately this made me the horrible person on the airplane who was coughing and sneezing and contaminating everyone in sight. I really tried to keep myself from being the Typhoid Mary, but alas, I suspect there is an outbreak of Stockholm syndrome about to begin in London. If a virus were much more serious than the common flu (like an H1N1 or similar) you could be seriously worried, in this era of modern travel, about how quickly it could be passed around the globe.
Some people have suggested that my catching cold might have been slightly related to having cold air rammed into my sinuses at 200 kilometers per hour. Whether or not that was a contributing factor, the good news is that this year's Stockholm syndrome was not too bad -- it seems to be mostly gone a day or two later.
Admittedly it seemed that there was just something going around last week. Several of the physicists were sick for a day or two. I was doing pretty well until the day I was scheduled to fly home to Oxford when I started to feel like my head was going to explode. Unfortunately this made me the horrible person on the airplane who was coughing and sneezing and contaminating everyone in sight. I really tried to keep myself from being the Typhoid Mary, but alas, I suspect there is an outbreak of Stockholm syndrome about to begin in London. If a virus were much more serious than the common flu (like an H1N1 or similar) you could be seriously worried, in this era of modern travel, about how quickly it could be passed around the globe.
Some people have suggested that my catching cold might have been slightly related to having cold air rammed into my sinuses at 200 kilometers per hour. Whether or not that was a contributing factor, the good news is that this year's Stockholm syndrome was not too bad -- it seems to be mostly gone a day or two later.
Back in the 1980s, Campbell's Soup Company had a marketing slogan "Soup is Good Food". The American FDA (food and drug administration) forced them to stop using this slogan because most of their soups contained too much sodium to qualify as "good food". Nonetheless, those of us who were children of the 80s (and watched Campbell soup commercials on TV over and over) ended up with a deep-down belief that soup really is good food.
Fast forward a quarter of a century. Right now I am visiting Stockholm for a few weeks. I suppose there are probably many many places to get "good food" in Stockholm, but in my book, the hands-down best food is the soup --- specifically, the Sibiriens Soppkok. It is hard to even describe how great this soup is. Every time I eat there, I feel like today must be the best day I've ever had. Really, it is that good. (They are probably putting opium in it or something similar). I've been eating there every day for lunch, and then I started adding a few dinners as well.
Fast forward a quarter of a century. Right now I am visiting Stockholm for a few weeks. I suppose there are probably many many places to get "good food" in Stockholm, but in my book, the hands-down best food is the soup --- specifically, the Sibiriens Soppkok. It is hard to even describe how great this soup is. Every time I eat there, I feel like today must be the best day I've ever had. Really, it is that good. (They are probably putting opium in it or something similar). I've been eating there every day for lunch, and then I started adding a few dinners as well.
Yeah, I know. Eating every meal at the same restaurant sounds like it is a bit insane (much less the fact that I have shunned all solid foods in favor of this stuff). But don't make fun of me until you've tried it. Really, it is that good. (And I don't think it has too much sodium).
(Photo Credit: Joost Slingerland)
The fact that I am writing this post indicates that I did not go splat when jumping out of the airplane... so I guess that ruins the suspense.
So this morning Eddy (the experienced skydiver) and Hans (another first timer --- whose wife now thinks he has gone nuts) and I drove out to the jump site at 10 am this morning, getting there at 11:30. (Here is the facebook page of the jump center). The weather looked a bit questionable --- lots of cloud cover. But when we got there people were jumping --- I guess there were enough holes in the clouds to land easily.
We started by signing our lives away on the usual form that says "Yes, I know this is dangerous and it isn't your fault if I go splat". Understandably the form was written in Swedish (did I mention that I am in Stockholm this week?) so I needed translation. Besides name and address, the first question was "Do you have any psychological problems". I thought about writing "I'm about to jump out of an airplane, draw your own conclusions.." That was apparently not the correct answer.
We put on jump suits and waited around for our turn. While we waited, we watched other people jumping. Since there is only one plane in earshot, you can easily hear it buzz overhead. Then just before people start jumping out, they drop the engines so the plane is moving more slowly. If you have sharp eyes, you can see the bodies free-falling towards earth (they drop very fast). Even from the ground, you can hear the noise of the chutes opening, and then the people drift down towards the landing field surprisingly quickly. They also seem to come in with quite a lot of speed for the landing, but this is intentional --- if you come in quickly in the horizontal direction, you can get a lot of lift and not have too much velocity in the down direction. No one had any trouble hitting the landing field --- in fact it seemed like people could usually land within a few feet of their target area.
When we were called, the novices got a short bit of instruction. These are tandem jumps so there really isn't much to learn. You are strapped to an expert and just go along for the ride. We put on our harnesses and climbed into the Cessna Caravan. The plane looked like it was held together with duct tape, but apparently it was just inspected a few weeks ago and found to be in perfect condition (despite its looks).
There are no seats in the Cessna--- more like two long benches. The people straddle the benches and basically sit in the lap of the person behind you. With 15 people and all the gear and parachutes, it was pretty tight.
The plane took off just like any other plane, except it felt a bit strange not to have the usual instructions on how to tighten your seatbelt. It took about 10 minutes for the plane to climb up to 4000 meters (13000 feet, or 2.5 miles). I was surprisingly not all that nervous as we climbed. The plane is not heated or pressurized, so it felt cold and you could feel it a bit in your ears. On the way up it felt like any other plane ride except that it was very tight and everyone kept looking at their altimeter (many of the people had altimeters on their wrists) and the back of a Cessna is extremely noisy so you can only speak to the person next to you if you yell in their ears.
Besides Hans and I, there were two other people making tandem jumps. (The woman sitting next to me was looking a bit green.) Then there were a few people like Eddy making jumps on their own.
On the way up it seemed to me that there were two different cloud layers. One low down layer was sparse --- at about 1500 meters height --- just about at the level where we would open our chute. Then there seemed to be another thicker layer around 3500 meters --- maybe going up to 4000 meters, where we would jump from.
When the plane slowed the engines for the jump, you put on your goggles, they open the side door of the plane, and people start jumping out into the abyss. This is by far the most unnerving thing to see. When someone jumps out, they fall away so fast it seems very unreal. I think at that moment I started to look a bit worried.
The young woman just in front of me looked back, gave me a fist bump, and a few seconds later she disappeared out the door. ( A well timed fist bump really does wonders for your morale. )
So it was my turn. I shuffled over to the door with the tandem pilot strapped to me, put my legs out of the door and in an instant we were falling.
I think the reason why it isn't so frightening to jump out is because everything happens so fast. The amount of time between the door opening and actually jumping out is barely a few seconds. Maybe it was a bit easier not to be frightened, because in fact we couldn't see the ground from where we jumped --- there was a layer of clouds in-between us and the ground.
When you skydive, you (approximately) reach terminal velocity of about 120 miles per hour within roughly 10 seconds. But within 3 seconds you are already at 60 miles per hour and the wind is already very strong. So you really only have a very few seconds of feeling weightless. Honestly, I didn't even notice the sensation of being weightless. It feels like diving off a diving board. I rolled over in the air once or twice before we reached a stable position. And then very quickly you don't feel anything like what you think of as "falling" anymore. You feel like you are moving at constant speed (which after about 10 seconds ... you are). Perhaps it is more like swimming.
Regarding the sensation of falling at 120 miles per hour: It is very windy. And it is very loud. And it is very cold. And you get a lot of wind up your nose. (Maybe that is only me because I have a large schnoz --- but many of the experienced skydivers had helmets which keep the wind out of their faces more effectively than goggles do, which suggests that they are trying to avoid wind up their nose as well). During the fall, it is surprisingly hard to move and re-position at all --- the wind is exerting a LOT of force on your body, and any movement moves the force around in unexpected ways. I suspect this all takes some getting used to.
Only a moment after we jumped, Eddy jumped after us. He caught up with us and (being in very good control) he managed to move over to us and grab onto my arm --- we fell together for fifteen seconds or so before he separated again.
We were in free-fall for about 50 seconds. At that point we had reached 1500 meters and the pilot deployed the chute. The "jerk" was not as strong as I had suspected. Apparently the chutes are designed not to yank you suddenly. Once the chute had deployed, we watched Eddy deploy his (tandems have to deploy higher... so Eddy deployed well below us). I think looking down and watching Eddy was the first moment when I realized I could see the ground below us. I also noticed that my ears needed to pop a few times.
The pilot let me steer the canopy. You have a left and right cord and you pull the left one to turn left and the right to turn right. It is very easy to steer and it is very responsive. You can turn in extremely tight circles and spin around in a completely nauseating way (which we did a lot of). Apparently the tandem pilot mentioned later that he thought it was funny that I screamed "Holy Crap" when the parachute was spinning around. I think from deploying the chute to landing on the ground is about three minutes or so. You get a very good view of the area from the parachute. And it is fun to be able to steer around in the clouds.
I was a bit surprised how fast the parachutes descend -- and how fast they move horizontally as this happens. I had this image in my mind of a parachute floating down gently, but that is not at all how it seems to work. (I suppose it is gentle compared to descending at 120 miles per hour though).
The tandem pilot took over the steering for the landing, aimed at the landing site and made a very soft (but fast in the horizontal direction) landing. And so it was over. No splat.
So this morning Eddy (the experienced skydiver) and Hans (another first timer --- whose wife now thinks he has gone nuts) and I drove out to the jump site at 10 am this morning, getting there at 11:30. (Here is the facebook page of the jump center). The weather looked a bit questionable --- lots of cloud cover. But when we got there people were jumping --- I guess there were enough holes in the clouds to land easily.
We started by signing our lives away on the usual form that says "Yes, I know this is dangerous and it isn't your fault if I go splat". Understandably the form was written in Swedish (did I mention that I am in Stockholm this week?) so I needed translation. Besides name and address, the first question was "Do you have any psychological problems". I thought about writing "I'm about to jump out of an airplane, draw your own conclusions.." That was apparently not the correct answer.
We put on jump suits and waited around for our turn. While we waited, we watched other people jumping. Since there is only one plane in earshot, you can easily hear it buzz overhead. Then just before people start jumping out, they drop the engines so the plane is moving more slowly. If you have sharp eyes, you can see the bodies free-falling towards earth (they drop very fast). Even from the ground, you can hear the noise of the chutes opening, and then the people drift down towards the landing field surprisingly quickly. They also seem to come in with quite a lot of speed for the landing, but this is intentional --- if you come in quickly in the horizontal direction, you can get a lot of lift and not have too much velocity in the down direction. No one had any trouble hitting the landing field --- in fact it seemed like people could usually land within a few feet of their target area.
When we were called, the novices got a short bit of instruction. These are tandem jumps so there really isn't much to learn. You are strapped to an expert and just go along for the ride. We put on our harnesses and climbed into the Cessna Caravan. The plane looked like it was held together with duct tape, but apparently it was just inspected a few weeks ago and found to be in perfect condition (despite its looks).
There are no seats in the Cessna--- more like two long benches. The people straddle the benches and basically sit in the lap of the person behind you. With 15 people and all the gear and parachutes, it was pretty tight.
The plane took off just like any other plane, except it felt a bit strange not to have the usual instructions on how to tighten your seatbelt. It took about 10 minutes for the plane to climb up to 4000 meters (13000 feet, or 2.5 miles). I was surprisingly not all that nervous as we climbed. The plane is not heated or pressurized, so it felt cold and you could feel it a bit in your ears. On the way up it felt like any other plane ride except that it was very tight and everyone kept looking at their altimeter (many of the people had altimeters on their wrists) and the back of a Cessna is extremely noisy so you can only speak to the person next to you if you yell in their ears.
Besides Hans and I, there were two other people making tandem jumps. (The woman sitting next to me was looking a bit green.) Then there were a few people like Eddy making jumps on their own.
On the way up it seemed to me that there were two different cloud layers. One low down layer was sparse --- at about 1500 meters height --- just about at the level where we would open our chute. Then there seemed to be another thicker layer around 3500 meters --- maybe going up to 4000 meters, where we would jump from.
When the plane slowed the engines for the jump, you put on your goggles, they open the side door of the plane, and people start jumping out into the abyss. This is by far the most unnerving thing to see. When someone jumps out, they fall away so fast it seems very unreal. I think at that moment I started to look a bit worried.
The young woman just in front of me looked back, gave me a fist bump, and a few seconds later she disappeared out the door. ( A well timed fist bump really does wonders for your morale. )
So it was my turn. I shuffled over to the door with the tandem pilot strapped to me, put my legs out of the door and in an instant we were falling.
I think the reason why it isn't so frightening to jump out is because everything happens so fast. The amount of time between the door opening and actually jumping out is barely a few seconds. Maybe it was a bit easier not to be frightened, because in fact we couldn't see the ground from where we jumped --- there was a layer of clouds in-between us and the ground.
When you skydive, you (approximately) reach terminal velocity of about 120 miles per hour within roughly 10 seconds. But within 3 seconds you are already at 60 miles per hour and the wind is already very strong. So you really only have a very few seconds of feeling weightless. Honestly, I didn't even notice the sensation of being weightless. It feels like diving off a diving board. I rolled over in the air once or twice before we reached a stable position. And then very quickly you don't feel anything like what you think of as "falling" anymore. You feel like you are moving at constant speed (which after about 10 seconds ... you are). Perhaps it is more like swimming.
Regarding the sensation of falling at 120 miles per hour: It is very windy. And it is very loud. And it is very cold. And you get a lot of wind up your nose. (Maybe that is only me because I have a large schnoz --- but many of the experienced skydivers had helmets which keep the wind out of their faces more effectively than goggles do, which suggests that they are trying to avoid wind up their nose as well). During the fall, it is surprisingly hard to move and re-position at all --- the wind is exerting a LOT of force on your body, and any movement moves the force around in unexpected ways. I suspect this all takes some getting used to.
Only a moment after we jumped, Eddy jumped after us. He caught up with us and (being in very good control) he managed to move over to us and grab onto my arm --- we fell together for fifteen seconds or so before he separated again.
We were in free-fall for about 50 seconds. At that point we had reached 1500 meters and the pilot deployed the chute. The "jerk" was not as strong as I had suspected. Apparently the chutes are designed not to yank you suddenly. Once the chute had deployed, we watched Eddy deploy his (tandems have to deploy higher... so Eddy deployed well below us). I think looking down and watching Eddy was the first moment when I realized I could see the ground below us. I also noticed that my ears needed to pop a few times.
The pilot let me steer the canopy. You have a left and right cord and you pull the left one to turn left and the right to turn right. It is very easy to steer and it is very responsive. You can turn in extremely tight circles and spin around in a completely nauseating way (which we did a lot of). Apparently the tandem pilot mentioned later that he thought it was funny that I screamed "Holy Crap" when the parachute was spinning around. I think from deploying the chute to landing on the ground is about three minutes or so. You get a very good view of the area from the parachute. And it is fun to be able to steer around in the clouds.
I was a bit surprised how fast the parachutes descend -- and how fast they move horizontally as this happens. I had this image in my mind of a parachute floating down gently, but that is not at all how it seems to work. (I suppose it is gentle compared to descending at 120 miles per hour though).
The tandem pilot took over the steering for the landing, aimed at the landing site and made a very soft (but fast in the horizontal direction) landing. And so it was over. No splat.
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