Research is: the kind of thing people argue about at conferences and stake careers on.

December 10, 2025 – Edmonton, Alberta

Hope Walls with Sandra Arias Garzón 

I message Sandra that my car is warming up. Even in heavy winter traffic, it should be a 15 minute commute. I message again almost 45 minutes later that I have arrived. Alberta is, if nothing else, a place where variable temperature is writ large. Edmontonians often remind each other, “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute…” We chatter about wind chill and relative humidity as we settle into a quiet table at a coffee shop just off campus. I order a hot chocolate; she orders a chocolate milkshake.

While we wait, she tells me she joined [RG]² because she wanted to work on the kinds of things people argue about at conferences and stake careers on. The effect of variable temperature on physical entities is (coincidentally) what translated to a research topic for her thesis “Assessment of Thermal Effects on Well Integrity for CO₂ Storage Project Aquistore” but she takes a moment to reminisce about her first days in Edmonton. 

In January 2022 it was announced that online learning at the UofA would transition back to in-person classes effective March 1. Delays in visa processing allowed Sandra to celebrate one last birthday with family and friends in Colombia before landing in Edmonton in the kind of biting February cold where the act of breathing frosts your own eyelashes. She had experienced winter in Quebec before, but not in the Prairies, and quickly had to make sense of a city where the silence was comforting but the air hurt her face.

During the CoVID19 pandemic, [RG]2 pooled resources to ensure newcomers had the basic necessities to begin their studies, regardless of the threat of rolling  quarantine periods and lockdowns. New students had shelter, food, a place to sleep, and a desk or table to work at. Sandra was grateful to arrive at an apartment with staples in the fridge and pantry, some ugly but functional furniture, and freshly washed sheets on the bed. These small kindnesses mattered because the rest of her life was a question mark. Within days, Sandra was navigating a new campus, juggling classes, adapting to a “dry cold,” and leaning on lip-reading to ensure she wasn’t misunderstanding her engineering professors. 

But Sandra didn’t arrive fresh off her undergrad. She brought with her nearly seven years of professional engineering experience. She also brought with her what she describes as a very Colombian refusal to give up on things that matter – the sort of tenacity needed for fiddling with rock samples and wrestling with COMSOL.

She had researched Dr. Rick Chalaturnyk, a supervisor known for being brilliant, demanding, and exactly the kind of mentor who is infamously hard to pin down for the little things and equally infamous for being the first to show up when it counts. “Dr. Rick got my loyalty the moment “things” happened,” she says. She doesn’t go into details, but the way she says it tells you everything. Both him and Dr. Gonzalo Zambrano had her back, allowing her to power through times that demanded compassion and humanity as much as focus and progress. This carved out a kind of trust that can be earned but never manufactured. 

Like most grad students, the early days were riddled with unforeseen challenges. In addition to learning (the hard way) to daub and not slather core samples with thermal grease, Sandra also spent a significant portion of her MSc waiting for simulations to run, crash, re-run, crash differently, and eventually (with the help of colleagues) produce – mercifully – meaningful results.

She wasn’t shy about embracing every networking opportunity that presented itself. She endeavored to make personal and professional connections that she intuitively knew would pay off later. And to interrupt the relentless internal monologue of being knee-deep in sketchy simulations and satisfying but time-consuming lab experiments, Sandra signed up for dance classes and acquiesced to her beloved obese rescue cat occupying 75% of her desk. 

Of course, before leaving, I confirm her thoughts on a favourite dinosaur. 

“The pteranodon,” she says. “The one with a face shield who flies to hunt fish.”

Pteranodon tracks—Sandra handled turbulence at lift-off, picked a direction mid-air, and somehow managed to gracefully shield the best parts of herself while catching all the fish.

While she has a lot of writing left to do, Sandra already has much to celebrate. A thesis *this* close to being done. A confirmed position with a firm she has always dreamed of working with. A cat who remains both enormous and emotionally complicated. And a future she’s ready to build.

Sandra is grateful for the mentorship, support, and opportunities that our research sponsors have provided.