I spend my days looking through a microscope, preparing glass slides of root samples and working with DNA to identify which fungi are living on which tree species.  My Fulbright project involves studying how fungi may be used to increase the chances of tree survival in reclaimed industrial land.  Overall, my research is part of a growing movement of bioremediation, using natural processes in the environment to clean up pollution and toxins.  Fungi are a wonderful candidate for bioremediation, as species have already been shown to break down toxins into harmless products or provide rare but vital soil nutrients to a plant.  My project hypothesizes that trees inoculated with a fungal mixture will have more access to nutrients and better soil stability than non-inoculated ones.  My Czech colleagues and I are currently working at a research site next to a factory that, as a byproduct, creates a large amount of sedimentation ash.  The ash is deposited around the factory, and although there are attempts to return the land to its natural state by planting native trees, the majority of the trees die because the soil and ash mixture is such a poor growing environment.  We inoculated some trees, bought from a nursery and planted at the site, with a fungal mixture to see if the addition of fungi can counter the poor growing conditions.  At this point in the research, I am trying to identify what fungi were present naturally in the soil, and what fungi persisted after the inoculation.  Back at the institute, my fellow researchers and I frequently go back and forth between the Czech and English words for the tree species.

“Can you pass me the javor (maple) roots?”

“Ne, nemam maple koreny tady.” (No, I don’t have the maple roots.)

In my laboratory, there are a number of scientists who are also wonderful bakers.  I walk frequently into the kitchen to find a delicious plate of Czech cookies or strudel to munch on.  I’ve tried to bring in some American specialties as well, such as pumpkin pie, chocolate chip cookies, or cinnamon rolls to share with everyone. On Halloween, I explained the concept of “trick or treating” and why Americans carve pumpkins.  The researchers laughed and told me about their St. Mikulas Day, when adults dress up and go around as either angels or devils and make children promise to be good.

Apart from swapping research strategies and cooking recipes, we’ve also gone to see Russian playwright Chekov's “Three Sisters” (in Czech), and often have lunch together.  We laugh at the strange, literal translations that sometimes occur between our languages and the different idioms we use.  My favorite is the Czech equivalent of the American saying, “Let’s not beat around the bush,” which is an idiomatic way of saying, “Get to the point.”   In Czech, the phrase is, “Nebudeme chodit kolem horke kase,” which literally translates into, “Let’s not walk around the hot porridge.”

It’s also been amazing to witness the differences and similarities between our approaches to science and cultural history.  Since the Czech Republic was under a communist regime until about twenty years ago, there are lingering aspects of this era that permeate their current culture.  My favorite metaphor for this period is the large, concrete apartment buildings built under communist rule.  When they were built, they were cold and grey, and every building looked the same in its simplicity and lack of architectural decoration.  Today, the buildings have been painted bright colors to give them a vivid exterior, but the underlying simple architecture still stands out through the colorful, new paint.

Overall, I’ve loved working in a laboratory in the Czech Republic and collaborating with other researchers as passionate about fungi and plants as I am.  This experience has been life changing and I don’t doubt that I’ve made some lifelong relationships with spectacular individuals.  To be in a post-communist country and to study an area of science that I love so much is almost indescribable.  This experience has given me a chance not only to learn more about my field, but also to explore a culture that very few people truly get to know.  When my Fulbright grant ends, I know that I’ll be leaving a country that has become a second home to me and that I’ll never forget the goulash.

by U.S. Fulbright Student Grantee Tara Ness, 2011-2012

The article was originally published in the   Fulbright U.S. Student Grantee Newsletter, Issue 35, January 2012