Transcript
The Thesis
From my first week attending college, in la Universidad de Oriente in Puerto La Cruz, I wondered what my thesis will be about. In Venezuela, undergraduate studies need to be concluded with a thesis, normally referred to as la Tesis de Grado. I couldn’t wait to get to that moment, where all my abilities and researching skills would meet to create something new to solve a problem. While my friends were dreaming about graduation day, I was dreaming of my thesis defense day. I just never imagined it would change everything inside me.
Months after finishing all the classes, I became an intern for a department in Petróleos de Venezuela, Sociedad Anónima (PDVSA), a state-owned petroleum company. The thesis topic was the design of a plant that cleans used oil that had been discarded from industrial gas compressors, and I was assigned to work in a facility that had more than a dozen of those devices. It was exciting; there were so many things to do: characterize waste oil samples through lab tests, design the process and the necessary equipment, and prepare an economic estimate of the proposed facility.
Right before starting the internship, I visited the university. I was carefully walking through the breezeway that leads to the chemical engineering department, since the floor had been recently moped with kerosene, so it was shiny and slippery. As usual, there was a crowd of students sitting down by the concrete benches that border the main passageway. When I reached the front of my department, I encountered my Transport Phenomena professor. He’s tall and robust; it would be hard to miss him. As I approached, he smiled and asked if I was developing a thesis. Excited I said, “Yes!” and told him that it was about recovering used oils from gas compressors. Immediately, he stopped smiling, as if I had told him that I suffered an awful accident or a terrible disease. In a serious tone, he said, “You better not do that.” I was so surprised and puzzled by the quick change in his facial expression.
“It’ll take time to put the chemistry of the process together,” he continued. “It will be really complicated to do. It isn’t worth going through all that, just for a thesis.”
I told him it was a little too late, because I was already committed. After a pause, he changed his body language again; this time he looked optimistic and suggested that I ask for another topic. However, I told him I couldn’t do so, because they didn’t have anything else for a chemical engineering student. Then, rejecting his advice because I thought that he didn’t believe in my capabilities, I showed my stubbornness by saying, “Don’t worry. I think I can do it. You’ll see! I’ll figure it out!”
“Well…” he said, after noticing how I disregarded his warning. He looked at his watch and further added, “I need to rush to give a lecture, which will start in five minutes. Just remember that I warned you. Good luck with that!” I nodded and we said good-bye.
I went to meet another professor, who I hoped would agree to become my thesis advisor and he did. He was knowledgeable in lubricating oils, but because he was a mechanical engineer his familiarity with their chemical composition was limited. However, I needed some definition from the chemical perspective, and we both knew that was up to me. In order to determine the necessary quantities of chemicals for the process, I extensively researched all the chemistry concepts that were involved. However, the treatment was more complex than what I had envisioned. I sought guidance from others working in the company, but no one could offer any assistance. Some people would sarcastically tell me, “There was this man who might have known, but he’s gone.” Since there was no way I could have contacted that person, I continued deducing everything completely by myself. As time went by, I got increasingly stressed out. In just months, I was diagnosed with severe hyperthyroidism.
I was crumbling under pressure, so much that I couldn’t sleep. I was constantly looking at the computer screen, and my eyes hurt often, even though it was set to have the lowest brightness level. When I went to bed and closed my eyes, I would see: the equations I was working with, molecules of chemicals interacting with the oil, a reactor stirring the whole mix, drops of oil falling into a storage tank, machinery adequately placed, and prices of equipment. My family wasn’t exempt from the thesis effect. It was painful for them to see me struggling, as they were increasingly concerned about me. I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. Tears always rolled down every time the subject was mentioned, and I tagged some relatives and friends as insensitive for bringing it up.
I was so frustrated with how long it was taking me to solve the problems in the thesis. Since I usually relied on myself and on my ability to connect the dots, I never required a significant assistance from anyone; I helped others instead, so it was quite ironic that nobody could help me when I desperately wanted it. Eventually, I managed to solve the puzzle, but I still needed to write the thesis. I wanted it to be perfect. Every single sentence was cautiously planned. All the little details were taken care of. In my opinion, it was flawless. There were no orphan lines at the end of the page, everything was meticulously spaced and properly formatted.
When I finally completed the thesis, I requested a day for its defense. However, the semester would soon be over and I was told to set the date right after the next semester started. That concerned me because I knew that rioters regularly delayed the beginning of new semesters for weeks. At that moment, I knew the thesis was not meant to be; the project would expire before defending my thesis. My predictions were right. The semester was delayed two months, and my thesis officially expired, as well as my desire to become a chemical engineer. Nothing made sense to me anymore. The feeling of accomplishment that defined me was gone. I seriously reconsidered the certainty I had when choosing a career in chemical engineering, somehow a doubt occasionally popped up in my mind.
From all the struggles that I went through, something good happened from researching this thesis. A special interest in mechanical engineering emerged when studying how gas compressors worked. Although I enjoyed designing equipment for a process or a unitary operation, I was always fascinated about their structure and respective standards from the American Society of Mechanical Engineers. One day I came across the Florida International University website, and a desire of getting a diploma emerged in my spirit. Perhaps, I could give myself a second chance and take a different approach in education. I could carefully make my choices and find out what to expect beforehand, things I didn’t consider in the past. Then I thought that it wasn’t too late as I was still alive, there is always another chance; so I applied for mechanical engineering. Now I’m dreaming about my graduation day.
