Of trees and lecturers

Many of you have probably at one point or another.. usually on heavy-duty drinking nights or the morning thereafter... asked yourselves the question "Why are we here?" Sometimes the reason of the query is not our own presence but the person.. usally of female origin... in our immediate vicinity. Well, in the aforementioned morning at least. But I doubt there were that many variations of the question concerning... trees. Besides their obvious industrial, aesthetic and oxygen-producing applications.. oh, yeah, and one of the most important - filling of forests... trees have one more very common yet elusive property. No, not squirrel accomodation. They are rain condensers. I can see some of you blinking and reading the whole piece again, and others looking for their copy of "Soul Music". No, guys, I don't have the intention to steal from Terry Pratchett. Just listen.

It was raining. Well, it's autumn and I'm in Sweden.. big deal. It was just a small drizzle, one you can barely feel and is almost invisible to the naked eye. So I decided to leave the rainclothes on their rightful place - in the wardrobe. My jacket was supposed to offer enough protection. Or so I thought... I was cycling at full speed towards the university, enjoying the small water bites on my face, when a treacherous dendrite forest dweller cunningly poured half a litre of water in my neck. Needless to say I was overjoyed of the free shower. The next hundred or so trees I passed decided to follow their comrade's example and generously offer me the daily water supply of a small village. Ten minutes later, cursing in at least four languages, I was in the front row of the lecture hall, water dropping from my hair and forming delicate creaks, which flowed to a semi-large puddle - obviously I was not the only victim of the deciduous revolution.

The next thing I see is prof. Lars Hellman coming through the door.. completely dry. Well, I figure, he's a swede (which I am not) and probably has more experience in dodging water blows. The reason turned out to be less profound - he had done the smart thing and taken the bus. The lesson could start. And just hearing this guy speak English not only turned my frown upside-down, but it made it do a double somersault as well. Prof. Hellman, sir, if you ever see this, please don't get offended. I don't mean anything like it. You are a great lecturer and have a great smile... but you are the swedish Terminator. Guys, imagine a tall, broad-shouldered, blue eyed man with a very high forehead and deep voice. He only lacked sunglasses and a Chopper. Well, I guess you can't drive a Chopper in the Biomedical centre. Or at least not when people are around... but still, the corridors provide a great track. And when the professor said: "Yoou haave to produuce aantibodies" with the same austrian accent... well, I had to quickly restrain my facial muscles in order not to laugh aloud. Sir, thank you for a great lecture and for making my day!