I pick up where I left of: the end of the Geneva Summer School in Philosophy of Physics, 2009.
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I had a chance to climb Glacier d'Arolla with a few new friends on Wednesday. What fun we had scrambling up the ice and rocks, watching out for crevasses (there were a few whose bottom could not be detected, even with the aid of generously-sized rock projectiles) and looking for preserved dinosaur or people bones. (Maybe I was the only one of our party doing that last thing). We hiked for the entire afternoon and all of us slept well that night, refreshed by the activity and ready to be indoorsy and nerdy all over again the next few days.
Thursday-- class continues, as does the making of new friends in my tiny little field. I have a conversation at dinner with Herr Doktor Professor Gisin, a physicist from Switzerland, about the rare communal feeling of philosophy of physics he hadn't experienced in any other field in his rich lifetime of scholarship. It makes us young ones feel proud, and excited to be the new generation of a field with a tradition of camaraderie, collaboration, deep friendship and of course rousing good fun. Which we took part in that very evening, as Professor Gisin ordered two bottles the best local wine for our entire table, and filled my glass every time I called him by his full title, "Herr Doktor Professer". [Mont Collon] After dinner-- which was a special Swiss treat: Fondue (as God intended it....ahhhh) and another cheese-dish, Raclette--I went for a night hike (which I think I mentioned in the previous post) and got some eerie but beautiful pictures of the Valoise.
When I got back, my classmates and the professors were all having drinks over a range of conversations: some of course were engaged in quantum mechanic-sy discussions, but I sat down at a table with a few guys to have purely non-intellectual fun. First we made a 3-page song list for Friday night's "End of Class Soirée at the Hotel du Mont-Collon Discoteque", and then we spent a highly amusing couple of hours playing silly games that we came up with on the spot. One such game was the Speed Free-Association Word Game, which consisted of me giving each of the guys a word and they responding as quickly as possible with the very first word that popped into their heads, and then me psycho-analyzing the response. Let me tell you how hilarious this game can be amongst philosophers, removed from all normal civilization in the deeps of the Swiss Alps with a few beers and most of the night behind us: 10 on a scale of 1 to hilarious. Here are some excerpts: [under the glacier]
----Me: "Wealthy"
Matt: "Goat"
----
Me: "Wood"
Tom: "Tree"
Me: "Tall"
Tom: "Tree"
Me: "Bat"
Tom: "Tree"
Me: "Tom, I think I don't want to be exposed to any more of your psyche."
[grant picture candidate #3]
Another fun game a bunch of us played (by now well into the morning) was the most strange game of Truth or Dare I've ever played-- a game whose players included renown philosophers, the conference organizers, a bunch of gangly baby philosophers like me-- very nearly "professors" ourselves (scary thought), and part of the hotel's waitstaff. The "truths" mostly consisted of "would you rather" type questions of the sort "Would you rather stab yourself to death with a plastic butter knife OR adopt a modal interpretation of [pic from night hike]
quantum mechanics?" The "dares" mostly consisted of
declarations of love to certain eccentric (non-present) philosophers
we all secretly admire, or composing haikus on the spot about quantum field theory or ontological structural realism. This may very well have been the only game of its kind in the history of the world. I feel honored to have been a part of it...I think?
Friday night is festive-- my good friend from Calvin/travel buddy Erin arrives at the hotel and we sneak her luggage into my room...although the manager finds out anyway. (Drat. I had FOUR beds in my room! FOUR!) That night we (the class) have an amazingly awkward, hilarious, delightful dance party. Erin joined us, as did a number of the professors and most of the hotel's waitstaff (though they out-maneouvred us halfway through the party and gained control of the DJ privilege, which meant goodbye Kanye West, hello trippy Euro-techno). At one point (I think the exact point was the moment Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies" came on), a whole gaggle of German hikers joined us too. Their dancing skills were, I pray, inversely related to their mountaineering skills. Otherwise....yikes.
Of course we summer-schoolers all knew there were two more class sessions starting at 9 am Saturday morning...but we danced until the snow-covered peaks started to glow with the dawn anyway. After all, how often does one get to dance to Lady GaGa with their esteemed co-author and a bunch of awkward German dudes in the basement (oops-- i mean "discoteque") of a hotel in the middle of the Pennine Alps? Never again, I submit.
Those of us who did in fact make it to class in the morning were a sad-looking bunch, clutching croissants with tired fingers and drinking coffee with utmost gravity and concentration. And then, it was done.
It was hard to say goodbye to this group of people. Perhaps I'll make it out to the Geneva Summer School next year... but if not, it's almost certain I will run into these folks again. We are peers for life in a small field: c'est trés bien.
Vive la ecole du philosophe physique!
[grant picture candidat #4]
[ i swear-- not a painting!]
[Ansel Elisems]
Sounds like a great weekend party. I'm curious..how did the waitstaff do on the Truth or Dare? I wouldn't know a modal interpretation from a plastic butter knife!
ReplyDeleteLove ya!