Postcard from Columbia!

Wednesday, August 10, 8:45 a.m. I had slept poorly the previous morning, in a cheap motel two miles outside of downtown. Today was the first day of faculty orientation, and the first day I'd had to set my alarm for quite some time. That said, it was showtime, and I had shown up to the top floor of the business school.

"Hello, welcome! Can I have your last name please?" A perky, cheerful woman greeted me as I walked in. Simultaneously, I noticed an array of name tags in alphabetical order that had been laid out on the table, and picked mine out. "Thorne," I told her, pointing to my name tag.

She smiled, but a bit awkwardly. It seemed she was there that morning was to help people find their name tags.

I then turned my attention to the room. I had arrived fifteen minutes early, not counting "Coffee: 8:30-9:00", and yet I seemed to be nearly the last one there. Everyone was quite chipper, and in a dress shirt and slacks I felt distinctly underdressed: at least half of the men were wearing suits.

Welcome to Columbia! I have just arrived from San Francisco, where nobody gets up before 9:00 if they can help it, where the same shirts made me overdressed, and where if your friend is flying into town, you give them your address so they can find the place on their own. This place is really different.

Columbia is beautiful. It has a distinct, understated Southern charm, especially on the USC campus and in the residential neighborhoods around. The state house is a half mile to the northwest, and beyond that the historic Main Street. Main Street is beautiful, and is emerging as the hip new place to live, but I learned that "up-and-coming" means "not there yet" when I walked the entire length of it on a hot Sunday afternoon, attempting in vain to buy something cold to drink.

The people are really quite friendly. As I mentioned before, people are often eager to help me do things that I am used to doing without any help. Some of them don't really seem to be very expert. (The librarian in the math library, for example, was very obviously fresh blood.) But the kindness is genuine.

I have been advised to lower my standards, and this has been discouraging. For example, I checked out a yoga studio, and told the instructor I'd been taking classes in San Francisco, and she cautioned me not to expect too much. Actually, she was quite knowledgeable, and the class was technically excellent, but she didn't push us hard. I barely broke a sweat. Similarly, I have been warned that the undergraduate students are poor, compared to Wisconsin (let alone Stanford).

That said, one happy exception is my department chair. USC is looking to hire this year, and I mentioned that "The market is really bad this year, you'll be able to hire someone really great." He replied, "We'd be able to hire someone really great anyway." I like this guy.

I've found a lovely apartment, with a cool seventies vibe to it. Currently I have no furniture whatsoever, but my furniture from SF arrives this week, and I've also got some stuff I ordered arriving. I'll be getting my bicycle, which will prove useful thanks to a misadventure (ahem!) I had at the DMV. I've made friends (and already been invited out), and classes start this Friday.

I won't lie, it's a bit difficult, because I never wanted to leave the fast pace of San Francisco. But I have little idea of what my life might look like in a couple of years, which automatically makes the present the biggest adventure of my life.