Post by MEDEA KEKELIDZE on Aug 26, 2010 17:25:16 GMT -5
Thank God for connections. A few days into her "extended stay" in New York City, Medea already had a paying job. Two, actually. She had been hired by a major pharmaceutical company, where she would take on the position of "study director," which essentially meant that she was responsible for ensuring that the drugs the company produced were safe before it underwent human testing. That would provide her with a steady source of income for very little effort on her part, as she had an entire team of scientists to do the work for her if she wished it.
The other job was temporary but also lucrative. A friend had arranged for her to give a lecture at New York University's School of Medicine. The lecture would be open to the public, though it was mostly geared toward medical students. She had been asked to discuss her work and the importance of testing the toxicity of medicinal drugs before they were released to the mainstream market.
She had given such lectures several times, in many different cities and in many different languages, and the result was always the same. Inevitably, someone would lead the discussion onto another track, usually having to do with animal testing, the most recent drug recall, or the merits of poisons. Then Medea would have to steer the conversation back on course, and most of her time would be wasted. She had even stopped preparing to talk for the allotted time span.
This would be her first lecture in America, though thanks to the years she had spent in the UK, her English was very good, and only a hint of a Georgian accent remained, replaced by a subtle English lilt. She could have passed for an ordinary scientist or academic. Unfortunately, as she walked through the campus and looked at the posters and flyers that had been used to advertise the lecture, she noticed that NYU had chosen to accentuate the fact that she had been exiled from a country. They had probably liked the exotic flavor of a female Georgian toxicologist exiled from Greece, and known that such a tagline would attract a considerable amount of guests.
She found the auditorium and was directed onstage by the lecture's arrangers. There was a podium there, and a young man was introducing her to the room nearly full of spectators. Fighting down the nerves that had suddenly swelled in the pit of her stomach, she squared her shoulders and strode out from stage left when her name was called.
"...we are proud to introduce Ms. Medea Kekelidze."
The audience clapped politely, and Medea stopped behind the podium, placing a small handful of papers on it. Everyone was looking at her, which did not help her small case of nerves very much.
She blinked at the crowd and began. "Good evening...."
The other job was temporary but also lucrative. A friend had arranged for her to give a lecture at New York University's School of Medicine. The lecture would be open to the public, though it was mostly geared toward medical students. She had been asked to discuss her work and the importance of testing the toxicity of medicinal drugs before they were released to the mainstream market.
She had given such lectures several times, in many different cities and in many different languages, and the result was always the same. Inevitably, someone would lead the discussion onto another track, usually having to do with animal testing, the most recent drug recall, or the merits of poisons. Then Medea would have to steer the conversation back on course, and most of her time would be wasted. She had even stopped preparing to talk for the allotted time span.
This would be her first lecture in America, though thanks to the years she had spent in the UK, her English was very good, and only a hint of a Georgian accent remained, replaced by a subtle English lilt. She could have passed for an ordinary scientist or academic. Unfortunately, as she walked through the campus and looked at the posters and flyers that had been used to advertise the lecture, she noticed that NYU had chosen to accentuate the fact that she had been exiled from a country. They had probably liked the exotic flavor of a female Georgian toxicologist exiled from Greece, and known that such a tagline would attract a considerable amount of guests.
She found the auditorium and was directed onstage by the lecture's arrangers. There was a podium there, and a young man was introducing her to the room nearly full of spectators. Fighting down the nerves that had suddenly swelled in the pit of her stomach, she squared her shoulders and strode out from stage left when her name was called.
"...we are proud to introduce Ms. Medea Kekelidze."
The audience clapped politely, and Medea stopped behind the podium, placing a small handful of papers on it. Everyone was looking at her, which did not help her small case of nerves very much.
She blinked at the crowd and began. "Good evening...."
