Jorge

On how (almost) no one can pronounce properly my name.

During a very long time I was under the illusion that my name was very simple to learn and memorize. In Spanish, apart from being very common, Jorge is a short, easy-to-remember name. (In fact, it is perhaps too short.) It is easy to pronounce too. It turns out that this is not the case for, apparently, a significant amount of people in the world.

In my experience my name is very difficult to pronounce for French-, Italian-, Danish- and Portuguese-speaking people. With some effort, they can be "trained" and get a very good pronunciation. At the beginning they have awkward "thinking" pauses before saying anything, but with some practice the weird 'J' and 'G' sounds are assimilated.

I am particularly amused with the approximations Italian people have for my name. They all are some degenerated form of the Italian version, Giorgio. So, I have heard 'Orghe', and 'Iorghe' and many people call me that way. At the very beginning the persistent mispronunciation thing was awkard to me, and I attempted to correct others all the time. Soon I realized that trying to do so makes little sense, and then I started to appreciate the name approximations: I am well aware that one does not learn a completely new sound from one day to another; my failed experience learning French taught me that very well. In any case, it is no fair (nor easy) to try to train every single person; I am more than happy that close friends do know how to say it properly. French speaking people have similar difficulties, and their attempts are usually close to the French version, Georges.

Even if for Italian- and French-speaking people I was kind of prepared for funny name approximations, I have to admit I expected a different outcome from Danish- and Portuguese-speaking people. I thought this would not be a problem for them. As for Danes, I guess I expected that sounds in my name were included in the large set of weird things Danish language comes with (perhaps in the form of some unusual consonant). That was not the case, and while in Denmark I heard quite interesting approximations (the Danish version for Jorge is Jørgen). A similar hope I had for Portuguese: I guess I expected that the sounds of my name were included in the many features Spanish and Portuguese share. That was not the case either, and although the Portuguese version is written as in Spanish, the pronunciation resembles that of the English: George.

So my problem reduces to find effective ways of teaching others how to pronounce my name. I have failed here as well. I though it was easy by using the following clue for English speaking people: pronounce 'Jo' as the 'Ho' in "Hospital" and "Horse" and 'Ge' as in "Hey". Even if there are funnier ways to approach the problem (see this and this from PhD comics), the above key is not helpful for French and Italian people, as they do not have the 'aspired' sound that is required. They say, for instance, 'Ospital' instead of 'Hospital' and 'peraps' instead of 'perhaps.'

So, the best thing I have found for learning how to pronounce my name is the following audio clip. That's me pronouncing my name:



I am afraid that learning how to pronounce my name is not that useful. In fact, even if the name is very popular, there are not too many famous Jorges in the world. The most prominent one is Jorge L. Borges, Argentinian writer. There are also: Jorge Amado (Brasilian writer), Jorge Valdano (Argentinian, former football player and coach), Jorge Lorenzo (Spanish motorcycle racer). My favorite of all, is, without a doubt, Jorge M. Perez, a billionaire, real estate developer in the US.

This week's catchy song (2)

Sometimes our present seems to suck so much that we appeal to memories from the past to try to feel better. Going to the past can be satisfying indeed. I think the trick is to use nostalgia carefully, in small amounts, so not to lose perspective. As an excercise with the past, during the last week I have analyzed U2's first album, 1980's Boy. I have to admit that I was reluctant at the beginning (as there's a lot of 'modern' music worth listening), but then my best friend's insistence finally convinced me. I thank him for pushing me into that album.

I have to admit that the only U2 albums I had carefully listened are rather recent: Pop, All That You Can't Leave Behind, and How to dismantle an Atomic Bomb. I guess that explains my surprise when listening Boy. The album is terrific. Now I understand why U2 fans complain about the kind of music they're doing these days. The attitude, the lyrics, the music, they are so different, so great. A notable aspect is the voice of Bono, as it sounds very different, somehow tougher. He was obviously a rebel teenager recording his first album.

Of all the great songs in Boy, my pick for this week's catchy song is the fantastic Another Time, Another Place. Awesome lyrics, great music. Enjoy!



Update (12/12/2008): Since some people can't see the video (which I find weird, as I still can see it), here's another video for the song, a live version. Please comment if you can't watch it.

Auf Wiedersehen Bernardo!

Recently I have decided not to bring my laptop to work. Apart from increasing my levels of concentration significantly, this has prevented me from reacting quickly to Internet-related events. So no email, no RSS reader, no chat, no sports news in the spare time. Today, when looking at the web after hours of no Internet, I was extremely surprised to know that Real Madrid coach Bernd Schuster was fired by Sports Manager Pedrag Mijatovic. I think this decision surprised eveyone. In this post I will claim this was a very clever thing to do.

Real Madrid (RM) is, without a doubt, the most legendary football club. (It's perhaps the only thing I like from Spain, but that's an issue to be developed in another post.) Both players and coach are always under a great pressure: they're the best in the world and should win accordingly. Recent results have been quite disappointing, including a very unexpected elimination from the Copa del Rey. In addition to the bad game and subsequent bad results, serious injuries of key players such as Ruud van Nistelrooy and Mahamadou Diarra have complicated much the perspectives of RM. This is a really a problem because during the summer only Rafael van der Vaart was signed; obviously, some others should have been signed in order to cope with possible injuries and/or low performances.

The lastest defeat of RM was last Sunday, against Sevilla FC. The score was 3-4 in RM's stadium (the Santiago Bernabeu). Even if the team was able to get a 3-3 tie until the 80', the chaos in defense and a terrible referee made getting a victory impossible. Apart from the crisis in results, the same day of the game the president of the club (Ramon Calderon, who's elected by the popular vote of all the shareholders of the club) was in great trouble to get next year's budget approved.

All in all, these are complicated times for RM, even if the position in the Spanish league is not that bad and the team is still alive in the UEFA Champions League. Tomorrow there's an irrelevant UCL game against Zenit, but the real thing to come is the derby, against Barcelona FC, next Sunday. They have been showing a fanstastic performance along the league, displaying moments of great quality in their game.

The beginning of the end for Schuster was right after the match against Sevilla, as he said that "there is no way of defeating Barcelona; we'll do our best, but it will be most likely not enough." Terrible words to say if you're the leader of a great team. What kind of courage will the players put on the field if the leader feels already defeated?

So, today Schuster was removed from his position, in a quick move that put former Sevilla and Tottenham Hotspur coach Juande Ramos on charge of the professional team. Ramos' main credentials include a very solid perfomance while in Sevilla FC and the Carling Cup he won with the Tottenham. We all wish the best for Juande and RM.

Now, I think it was a very smart move. First, in this way the president and the sport manager show they're acting concretely during the crisis. They have saved their heads, at least for the moment. Second, it would have been way worse to change coach after an hypothetical defeat against Barcelona. To me, it would have felt like Barcelona deciding the fate of RM, something that certainly sucks. Also, in case of such a defeat, the new coach would have a great excuse, so to speak: the pressure for everyone would be less in case Juande gets a bad result in his second match in charge of the team.

My good friend Andrés Aristizábal (who is perhaps the only computer scientist that has a weekly sports column in a national newspaper) disagrees with me in this issue. He's a loyal Barcelona supporter and during these days before the derby he wonders for how many goals Barcelona will defeat RM. He says that it would have been better to change coach after the match, and that a defeat will affect Juande negatively for the rest of the campaign. He says prudence would have been advisable in this case. Any opinions on this important topic?

The Visitor

The Visitor (IMDB) is a 2007 independent movie that I warmly recommend. It tells the story of Walter, a university professor who feels unsatisfied with his life: he's a widower, frustrated piano learner, lame teacher, and hasn't done any proper research work in years.

In a trip Walter makes to New York ---to present a conference paper he coauthored but didn't write--- he confronts himself through music and a couple of young immigrants. The movie is a direct yet very elegant critique of immigration issues; the merit is that it does so without falling into the classic stereotypes. Photography is fantastic; the director uses New York's scenarios wonderfully. Here's a trailer:



The Visitor features outstanding performances. The main role is played by Richard Jenkins, an actor that you might surely remember from secondary parts in many movies. (A recent Jenkins' appearance is in Cohen brothers' Burn After Reading.) Jenkins' performance is excellent. The movie is completed by other three actors who are as unknown as their characters convincing thorough the movie.

The thing I liked the most about the movie is the conclusion. It's hard to express without giving you spoilers. I will, however, say that the director could have taken the easy road and end up with the usual happy ending you see in romantic comedies. The ending is not happy nor sad, which is great: this makes you think about the characters and their developments.

Capsule of Absurdity No. 4

On how one of the longest chains of absurdity arrived to an end. A happy one, I guess.

In this special installment of 'capsules of absurdity' I describe the story of how of I didn't travel to present a paper to the US. It is a bit long capsule, so please bear with me.

Earlier this year I coauthored a paper in an important conference in my research domain: LICS (Logic in Computer Science). The conference was held in Pittsburgh, at the end of June. My boss decided I would go to present the paper. Presenting a paper in LICS as a first year PhD student is a rare thing, as far as I understand. One of my coauthors was attending the conference too, so I wouldn't be so alone in such a top event.

Apart from the obvious academic arrangements, in order to enter into the US I needed a visa. As a Colombian, I need a visa to enter into almost every known country in the world; even to Panama, a former state of Colombia! (For some countries, indeed, even if you're passing through an airport to catch a connecting flight you might need an 'airport transit visa'.) Having to get a visa for going everywhere is perhaos the most annoying consequence of being a Colombian. Because of the fame we have, visa procedures are absurd by default, and unavoidably humiliating.

The US visa is especially tricky to get. That's a fact. Some people say it's simply luck, and I agree with them. The main reason is that too many Colombians want to go to the US, so visa applications are usually analyzed by consular officers in a matter of seconds. To give you an idea: the consular section of the US embassy at Bogotá receives around 1500 visa applications daily; it is one of the busiest consular sections in the world (third, I think). I wasn't applying at Bogotá's embassy; since I live in Bologna I had to apply at the consulate at Florence. Some friends (both Italians and Colombians) had told me the procedure was annoying and long (half a day), but that after a couple of days I'd get my visa.

So on April 30 I went to the US consulate in Florence, and applied for a 10-day visa: enough time to present the paper, attend the conference and perhaps jumping to NYC. The visa procedure consists essentially of an interview with an officer. Since I have experience on getting visas for academic reasons (UK, France, Italy) I was pretty confident. The first part of the interview went OK; I had to answer rather routine questions (why do you want to go to the US, what are you doing in Italy, who's paying for the trip). The second part of the interview was different. The officer started to read my application forms, and he was curious about my degree in computer science (yes, apart from asking you whether or not you were part of the nazi holocaust, the visa application includes a set of questions on your education). He asked:

US: Here it says you were born in Bogotá, but that you got your degree in X university in Cali. I know X university has a main campus in Bogotá. How come you didn't return to Bogotá to get your degree?

Me: (Two seconds shock.) Well, I had lived in Cali for more than 15 years, as my family moved from Bogotá to Cali when I was little, so studying in Cali made sense at the time.

The officer made an unconvinced face and started to type at a very quick pace in his computer. Afterwards, he asked:

US: Where do your parents live?

Me: In Cali.

That was the trigger for even more schizophrenic typing. He did so for about ten minutes. After the typing, I was ready to hear that everything was OK and that my visa had been approved. To my surprise, he said instead:

US: Your visa application is not approved nor refused. We need to do an additional administrative process with Washington DC regarding your case.

I was like: WTF??? The only thing I could say was:

Me: But what's wrong with my application?

US. Nothing's wrong, really. We just need to do an administrative process.

He told me I would get contacted when the procedure was completed. According to him, this takes from 2 to 4 weeks. Only then, I should send my passport: they would print and stick the visa on my passport, and mail it back to me.

I was in state of shock for the rest of the day, which included the worst lunch ever in Florence train station. All what I thought were essentially four things:

1. This is the most abourd thing that has occured to me in life.
2. Damned Cali! Mentioning Cali twice was enough for him to relate me to the Cali Cartel.
   
3. How come this guy knows my university has two campuses in Colombia?
4. They're gonna look for 'Jorge' in some database in Washington. That must be the most time consuming database query ever.

Back in Bologna nobody could believe the story, in particular those co-workers who had gotten their study visas in less than two days, in the same consulate. I will never forget the surprised face of my boss. Argh.

I had no option but to wait the 2-4 weeks for my visa. Sadly, I didn't get my visa in time and the coauthor who was attending LICS presented our paper. Of course I wrote emails to the consulate asking about my 'administrative procedure' (they have an efficient customer service I must say) . The answer was the same every time:

Your administrative process is still pending. We will contact you once your visa is ready.

Once I couldn't attend the conference I almost forgot about the whole thing. The only exception was at the end of each month, when I always remembered about my US visa application. I 'celebrated' the occassion sending the usual question to the consulate. Every single time I received the same answer:

Your administrative process is still pending. We will contact you once your visa is ready.

In October I decided to ask a more inquisitive question:

I assume my administrative process is still pending. But, what if I want to go to the US and my process is pending?

This time I got a slightly different answer:

You assume correctly: your administrative process is still pending.

The situation was the same until early November, when I received an email confirming the administrative process was completed and my visa was ready to be issued. It was funny, as I wasn't sure about the length of the visa they'll give me. Usually, one gets a visa for the exact number of days you'll stay in the US. (The longest tourist visa that the US issues is 10 years; for Colombians this duration is reduced to 5 years.) At this time, I was wondering about the following:

1. What if they give me a visa for ten days in December 08?
2. What if the visa goes exactly for the period I asked, that is, what if it expires in July 08? (A visa for travelling in the past!)
3. Would the US consulate behave as the Italian police, which issues stay permits that are already expired, so that once you get your "new" permit you have to renew it right away?

Oddly enough, due to the randomized character of the US visas for Colombians, even an expired one would be more than good for me. This is because once you're granted a visa, renewals should be easier, and because some countries take US visa as a "reference" when issuing theirs. So, for instance, if I am not wrong, having a valid US visa excempts you from needing 'airport transit' visas in the UK.

So I mailed in my passport to Florence. There'sa protocol to follow fot this: to send your passport to the consulate, you have to do it though a special courier service that acts as an intermediate between you and the consulate. It's supposed to be fast, safe and expensive. It was all of those, in the Italian style (that is, not excessively fast). The week after I sent my passport to the courier, they confirmed the passport was already in the consulate. The day after, however, I got the following email from the consulate:

If you're still interested in the visa, you need to send us your passport.

Complete panic: the consulate had lost my passport! I wrote back immediately explaining the case, and asking for confirmation on the courier's information. Long hours waiting for a reply. It finally arrived and it was something like

Oh, yes, here it is. Sorry about that.

This week I finally got my passport back. And I got a visa that is useful in the future! All I need now is a paper in a top research conference, again. Very unlikely, I am afraid.

It is very important that I actually use the visa I was granted. It turns out that, if I don't do it, the visa won't get easily renewed. Then any given consular officer could be tempted to ask someone in Washington whether or not I deserve a renewal.