пографоманимъ!
"Dear Oleg,

I'm president of the LMB's graduate student association, and we're putting together a new version of the Student Rough Guide. The Rough Guide traditionally has student profiles, written by the students, about their experience in Cambridge and at the LMB. We had the idea at the last minute that it would be good to put in a couple of profiles of ex-LMB students as well, and your name came to mind. The issue is that we need the profiles by the end of this week - is there any way you could write one by then? We would be very, very grateful!

I'll attach an example profile. What we're looking for is 1/2 to 3/4 pages on your experience at the LMB and in Cambridge, what you're doing now, and how your time as a graduate student prepared you for your current work."

(Кровожадно потирая графоманские ручонки) Ну как уж тут не услужить родному институту!

Like many people, I ended up in Cambridge - and LMB, for that matter - somewhat by chance. As I was approaching the end of my undergraduate studies at the University of Moscow, a prospect of getting drafted made me think about going abroad for a PhD. With the US graduate school entry exams being too specialized (I mean difficult) and my schooltime baggage of French largely forgotten, UK came forward as a reasonable choice. So, after lengthy deliberations and even lengthier paperwork, I found myself staring up a sombre-looking 1950s building where I would spend the best four years of my life.

Having been attracted to the LMB by the largely idealistic notion of working at the birthplace of molecular biology, I rarely regretted this decision. While the infrastructure and some facilities may not be quite as up to scratch as they would be in similar world class institutions (which is hopefully due to change soon), the people surrounding you more than make up for that. The dedication to transparency, cooperation and sharing was apparently instilled by the great Max Perutz himself, and even these days it's hard to find a locked door in the entire institute, maybe apart from a virus culture room or two. This attitude is especially beneficial for somebody as young and (relatively) inexperienced as a PhD student - indeed, there I was on my second day, in a lab corridor, quizzing a random passer-by (who turned out to be a rather senior PI) about the volume of a Petri dish.

Apart from the informal, there is just about the right amount of formalities to make sure that you progress through your PhD without major cataclysms - you get assigned a mentor who provides a shoulder to cry on when your boss's doesn't suffice, you submit progress reports and you give departmental talks. Now, I cannot emphasize how important the latter is - the art of public speaking and defending your opinions against other opinions (why, call them prejudices if they're different from yours) is more than likely to help you out in the later life, whichever career path you choose to pursue.

Speaking of career paths - mine has been somewhat lucky, mainly because I was blessed with a young energetic supervisor with a desire (and ability) to do great science. Having, however, moved to Bristol as a relatively independent Beit Memorial Fellow, I have met with the other side of science rarely seen by a PhD student in the LMB - relentless pressure to succeed, uncertainty about future prospects, intrinsic conflict between limitless imagination and limited resources. From where I am now, I look back at my Cambridge experience - which kind of goes on as I'm still technically a fellow of one of the Cambridge colleges - with a mix of sentimentality, gratitude and affection, and a lion's share of these rightfully belongs to the LMB.