Olympics! and some thoughts on China...

I am completely fascinated by the Olympics. I loved watching the opening ceremonies this past Friday. It is interesting that this year's Olympics are in Beijing. I visited China a few years back (December 2004-January 2005). My sister and her husband were teaching English at a university in northern China. I was lucky to have tour guides who were fluent in Chinese. I don't know how I would have gotten around without them. It was difficult enough to get through customs by myself...I was so relieved when I finally found my sister. Because it is like Disney World everywhere you go in China. Everywhere you go, there are just MASSES of people. And a lot of times, these masses of people will be waiting in line to go somewhere. Or at least that is what I assume was happening. I really couldn't figure out what they were waiting in line for sometimes. Because of these masses of people, China has become very efficient at moving people around, with their railways, highly organized bus system, and millions (I'm probably not exaggerating...too much) of taxi cab drivers. I think there was a program to train some or most of the cab drivers to speak English prior to the Olympics so that the incoming tourists would be able to get where they were going, but I don't know how successful they were. Back in 2004, the cab drivers spoke either one very rehearsed phrase or no English.

Back to the masses of people...

Another cultural difference that I noticed in China is that most of the Chinese people do not have as much of a sense of individuality as most Americans do. There are approximately 50 distinct ethnic groups in China; they had a part of the opening ceremonies dedicated to illustrating the traditional dress of some of these groups. However, it is difficult for an outsider (i.e., me and probably other Americans) to notice the subtle differences in the appearances of the people from these groups. Americans definitely stand out in China. Many times, people would stop and take pictures of my sister and I or my brother-in-law because we were white. Or maybe they thought we were celebrities. If we caught them doing it, we would ask them to be in the picture with us, so it wouldn't be so weird that this random person was taking pictures of us like paparazzi. I was always able to find my brother-in-law in a crowd, simply because he is tall and towers over many of the Chinese.

This loss of the sense of individuality was evident in the opening games. The first act of the creative portion of the opening games was a lot (maybe two thousands) of drummers acting in concert, with a formidable effect. There were not many solo acts (a lone dancer, the girl singing, maybe a few others), but I think that China definitely portrayed the ability to coordinate the efforts of many to create an overall picture that was breathtaking. And yes, it did take the individual learning their part, but if you just had one person running around the arena, it wouldn't have the same effect. But two thousand people forming perfect concentric circles...now that's pretty awesome.

The other thing I enjoyed about the opening ceremonies was the geography lesson that I got. There were so many countries that I had never heard of! Craziness...

socially awkward...

as i spend more time at work than i do in social settings, i have noticed that i am not as adept as i once was in the usual social situations. it has gotten to the point where i think i might have a bit of social anxiety. it's not entirely my fault...i think that medical school and residency makes you somewhat socially awkward. you're just not as good at talking about non-medical stuff anymore. i used to be more well-rounded prior to all this doctoring business.

one example is that a few weeks ago, i went out with some friends to a bar to go dancing. fun night...fun friends...not people that i feel awkward with at all. but i was approached by a guy who (i guess) was trying to pick me up. he used the "can i buy you a drink?" line. and my response was...drum roll, please..."i already have a drink." not that i would have married the guy, but i feel sort of like baby on dirty dancing..."i carried a watermelon?"

i went to a church group tonight on the south side of richmond, and i was trying to tell my friend alicia that i was a little scared about it. then i thought about it when i got home and realized how stupid i'm being. why do i care what people think about me? and why do i think that they're thinking about me anyway? i'm selfish/self-centered. i'm praying that God will help me look beyond myself to do the work He has for me.

again...

so, it's been a while since i've written anything, but several of my friends here in richmond are avid bloggers (alicia, daniel, keila, brent, anne, dave...just to name a few). i decided to try it out again, but honestly haven't thought of much to say. i usually like to write novels. i'd like to summarize the year but don't know how to begin. i'd like to say that my life is dandy but am not sure if that's the truth. i can say i'm sure that God has me in richmond for a purpose, but i can't say that i'm all that happy about it at times. and i still long for Home. i'm not sure if i will ever call this place home, or if i even have a home at this point. i feel like i'm wandering...and this nomadic life is hard. i struggle sometimes to catch my breath and am trying to see what God is doing or where he is leading, but i can't see the cloud or the fire, and i can't taste the manna. and what's scaring me most of all is that i am not trusting that He is taking care of me.

the better story...

According to Yann Martel, author of The Life of Pi, the book was born out of a conversation with an elderly Indian gentleman, who made the bold claim, "I have a story that will make you believe in God."

You should read this book.

Part One of the book chronicles Piscine Patel's ("known to all as Pi") early childhood and the details of his religious background. Born into a bright orange Hindu, introduced to Christ by a friendly Father Martin in Munnar, and wooed to the green of Islam by plain-featured Muslim mystic/baker, he practices all three religions interchangeably and without excuse. Even when confronted by three religious leaders, who agree on only one point ("...he can’t be a Hindu, a Christian and a Muslim. It's impossible. He must choose."), Pi defends his piety.

"I just want to love God."

Part One ends with another bold claim: "This story has a happy ending." It is statement that I had to go back and reread a few times during Part Two, which starts out with a shipwreck and a scared Pi crying out to Jesus, Mary, Muhammad, and Vishnu for help. Sometimes it seems as if there can be no happy ending to this story. I don’t want to give away too much, but Pi spends almost 7 months at sea in a "genuine, regulation lifeboat," an experience in which he is forced to renounce his vegetarian beliefs but not his faith in God, which is (to me) impressive.

I read his story in awe and reverence. Then, like a slap in the face by a flying fish (one of the events in the story), there is a twist at the end of the book of M. Night Shyamalan proportions. A Mr. Okamoto, who is investigating the cause of the shipwreck with the ship's sole survivor, is forced to choose between two accounts...one that is beautiful and horrifying and miraculous and epic, and one that may be slightly more plausible but ugly and equally horrifying. Belief in either one requires a significant amount of faith, because the only one who can testify to the validity of either fable is Pi himself. The plausibility of the second story is based on my realm of knowledge...on what I think is believable and true. But, as Pi puts it himself, "You can't prove which story is true and which is not. You must take my word for it...So tell me, since it makes no factual difference to you and you can't prove the question either way, which story do you prefer? Which is the better story?" Mr. Okamoto decides that the beautiful story is the better story. Pi replies, "Thank you. And so it goes with God."

I don’t want to read too much into a work of fiction, which, according to the author is "the selective transforming of reality." But this book has made me think more about faith and doubt than my recent attempt to read the bible from cover to cover. I think Chapter 22 sums it up for me:

"I can well imagine an atheist's last words: '‘White, white! L-L-Love! My God!'--and the deathbed leap of faith. Whereas the agnostic, if he stays true to his reasonable self, if he stays beholden to dry, yeastless factuality, might try to explain the warm light bathing him by saying, 'Possibly a f-f-failing oxygenation of the b-b-brain,' and, to the very end, lack imagination and miss the better story."

and the things that are not...

and the things that are not...

i have been contemplating that phrase over the past couple of weeks. it sits in this bible passage:

"But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things--and the things that are not--to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God--that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: 'Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.'"

this is encouraging to me...God picking the foolish things and the weak things, the lowly things and the despised things--and the things that are not. it is as if God purposefully picks the benchwarmers, not the superstars. He sees the scrawny kid on the playground, the one with downcast eyes and red cheeks, the one who has stopped hoping for the first round pick and started praying that he will be second-to-last instead of last (again). God sees this kid and says, "you. I want you."

this is the God that i have come to love. the One who chooses the things that are not. He is a God Who sees the big picture. He doesn't just see us as we are at that particular point in time...when we are weak/needy/foolish/lowly/despised. He sees the potential. He sees us as we will be, not just as we are.

i have not been particularly wise or strong over the past few weeks, which is probably why i have not written anything particularly "spiritual" lately. somewhere along the line, i forgot what i was worth. i stopped seeing what He sees in me, and i started buying into the lies the world sells me. it is so hard to trust sometimes, and my faith falters on a pretty regular basis, but it was harder to find it lately. i am lucky that God pursues me, even when i don't particularly want Him to. i have also been lucky that in the past few weeks, i have heard God say again, "you. I want you."

God, i am so grateful that when i am scared and stumbling, You don't give up on me. i'm thankful that when my faith is small, You are still big. i'm so glad that i don't have to be strong or wise. i pray for faith...that i may know You more...and in knowing You more, that i might trust You more. amen.

carolina blue...

It is chilly in Chapel Hill Saturday evening. I parked in the municipal parking lot ($0.65 per 30 minutes -- much better than the parking in NYC, which is where I was last week) and walked the to Spanky's Bar & Grill. I expected a younger crowd, simply judging from the name, but I sat next to a pair of tables with what looked like older couples getting together for weekly conversation and pints of Guinness. I felt a little out of place because I was drinking Bass out of a bottle. That, and the fact I was about half the age of anyone in the little bar besides the wait staff. The large window I sat next to framed the brick buildings across the street, decorated with white lights and people in Carolina blue scarves. Or maybe Duke blue. I'm still getting used to the subtleties. I poured the beer into the glass provided (quite expertly, I might add, with just the right amount of head), and it stayed cold until the last ounce or so. I don't like warm beer, but I didn't want to waste it, so I finished it.

I walked outside to see three guys in long hair and acid-washed jean jackets walk by, smelling of high school and adidas cologne. Which, incidentally, are the same smell. I had forgotten momentarily that the 80s were back, so seeing them kind of threw me. I wear a denim jacket as well, so I definitely fit in with this group. Except that I was an old lady who didn't even get carded at the bar I just went to, and the last time I smelled adidas cologne was in 1998. Crazy how some smells fling memories into consciousness.

I am trying to figure out where I fit in. I am interviewing at a bunch of schools to see where I can get a residency. It is hard to judge a program based on one or two days of a formal interview. I am sure they don't get a true impression of who I am, since I will probably never ever wear a suit in their presence again after I interview. Never ever. I think we should all interview in scrubs...one less variable to be judged. Some people make checklists and take a bunch of notes to try and figure out where they will rank the places they interview at. I am mainly going on a gut-instinct-type feeling, which is sort of contrary to what I usually do. I guess I'll find out where I end up in March.

It was still chilly on Sunday morning, but the sun was bright and it warmed up quickly. I walked to a church by the hotel. I happened to go on a day where this church offered communion. In the midst of figuring out where I fit in, I forgot that I am part of a Body. It was comforting and familiar to worship with other people with whom I share beliefs. It was also comforting to know that I don't have to worry about where I wind up; wherever I match is where God wants me to be. I am feeling much more at peace about the whole decision-making process.

On a side note, with all this traveling, I didn't get a chance to go home for the Thanksgiving holiday, and now I'm feeling a little homesick. I was lucky enough to see my parents in October, and two months is by no means the longest I have gone without seeing them. I have seen my sister and her family a bunch as I stay the night with them before flights out of DFW. But for some reason, as I travel, I am acutely aware of how important my family is and how much I miss them. Loneliness is a good motivator to encourage reliance and dependence on my God, but it also is hard. Please pray.

"When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone." -- Tennessee Williams

collision...

I love being involved in a field where so many different academic disciplines collide. Historically, there were only four academic disciplines: theology, medicine, jurisprudence, and the arts. If you look for a definition of "medicine" on wikipedia, you come up with this:

"Medicine is the branch of health science and the sector of public life concerned with maintaining or restoring human health through the study, diagnosis, treatment and possible prevention of disease and injury. It is both an area of knowledge -- a science of body systems, their diseases and treatment -- and the applied practice of that knowledge."

While this is a decent and concise definition of what I do on a daily basis, I would submit to you that it is much more. When you talk about "restoring human health through the study, diagnosis, treatment, and possible prevention of disease and injury," there just isn't one magic pill that I can prescribe that will take care of all of that. The restoration of health often involves taking much more interest in how and why the patient is sick, rather than just diagnosing and treating their illness. Restoration of health also requires that when a patient comes to see me in clinic with a chief complaint of "hypertension and refills," I need to distinguish if that is her real complaint, or if her true complaint is that she can't afford the $59 a month that she has been paying for her medications. And then I need to figure out how I can help her.

I think if I ever decide to go back to school in the future (I mean, um, after I get out of school), I would want to get a Ph.D. in sociology or social anthropology, studying the effect of inequity on access to medical care. It is easy to document an "outcome gap" (which is a horrible euphemism that basically means given a certain medical condition, a poor person is more likely to have a worse outcome than a rich person) and show that it is caused, at least in part, by differential access to increasingly effective technologies [Paul Farmer in Pathologies of Power: Health, Human Rights, and the New War on the Poor]. I think that what I can do now is make sure that I am providing equitable care for all of my patients, regardless of their race, sex, socioeconomic status, etc.

There is a famous statue depicting Lady Justice, where she holds the scales of justice and wears a blindfold. I do not have the luxury of wearing the blindfold of Lady Justice, and I'm not sure if I would want to. I want to be able to truly see people. I pray that I will not be blinded.

So here's my definition of medicine: medicine is the collision of science and sociology, affected by business and law and politics, and beatified by the arts and theology.

When we come to you
Our rags are torn off us
And you listen all over our naked body.
As to the cause of our illness
One glance at our rags would
Tell you more. It is the same cause that wears out
Our bodies and our clothes.

The pain in our shoulder comes
You say, from the damp; and this is also the reason
For the stain on the wall of our flat.
So tell us:
Where does the damp come from?
--Bertolt Brecht, "A Worker's Speech to a Doctor"