The Tiramisu Rule

I have this rule - whenever Tiramisu is on the dessert menu, no matter how full I am or how little money I have, I must to order it.  It is part of my greater plan to find the best Tiramisu in all of the land.  I know what you are thinking, that is a massive challenge not to be taken on by the faint hearted!  Psh, no kidding.  But have no fear dear readers!  I do not take this rule lightly and I never back down from a challenge.  That is one of the many reasons why I am so delighted with the Italian influence here in Ethiopia.  There is some interesting history here, having to do with invasions…and people…but I won’t bore you with it (mostly because I don’t really know it), but the punch line is – every restaurant I have entered in Addis boasts a fantastic Ethiopian menu along with spaghetti, lasagna, and pizza.  Never fails. 

A few days ago my mentor took me out for coffee and I shouldn’t have been surprised when I opened the bakery menu and tiramisu was there.  I should mention that my mentor only knows me as the strange farangi (Amharic for white person, I will come back to this later…) who sits at a desk for 10 hours a day entering numbers onto a spreadsheet and shows little to no emotion (those of you who know me otherwise, yeah, this is happening).  So when I began to have a mini-meltdown about the fact that Tiramisu was on the menu I think my mentor was a bit taken aback, to say the least.  Enter waitress to dash my dreams and say the Tiramisu is finished for the day.  Luckily (or unluckily) my mentor was so surprised by my infatuation of said tiramisu that he insisted on driving across town to an other coffee shop that did have tiramisu.  Insert Ethiopian hospitality.  Love.

Moral of the story, I got my tiramisu and it was delicious.  Not the best.  But, still delicious.  They had the right amount of espresso soaking the lady fingers (go figure), but not enough of the creamy stuff.  Hence, my search continues…

So one of my favorite words to learn in different languages is the translation for “White person.”  Well, not only the translation, but the meaning behind the translation.  In Paris, it was pretty easy to translate “Stoopeed Aahmerican!” but I digress…In Samoa I was a “Palagi” pronounced PA-lang-ee.  The “Pa” means burst and “Lagi” means heaven.  We done burst from the heavens yall!  I was told this was for 2 reasons, 1 because we sailed in on big ships that looked like they burst right out of the horizon and 2 because we brought over a bunch of bibles and pictures of the long haired Jesus dude with the heavens bursting from behind him.  Dear ancestors, you are embarrassing me again…

In Amharic, the more or less official language in Ethiopia, I am referred to as a “Farangi” pronounced FA-ron-gee.  I was told that this was because the first paler shade people to come to Ethiopia were the French.  Frenchies.  Fa-renchies.  Farangis…I think I see it.

And on a slightly more hysterical note, remember the squat toilet I mentioned in earlier the blogging entries?  The one next to the Emergency Department, with no light and a running hose from the wall?  Yes, well, the emergency surgical staff unfortunately believed that I am intelligent enough to use said bathroom on my own now, without an escort.  So this morning one of the scrub nurses gave me a key and I walked to the squat toilet with my head held high because I am such a seasoned traveler now.  As mentioned before, the door does not lock from the inside, but I had the key this time!  I locked the door from the inside and went about my business.  Man, I wish I had listened when the original guy that took me to the bathroom told me that the lock was broken from the inside because while you can in fact lock it from the inside with a key, you cannot UNlock it.  So there I was turning the key over and over again in the dark water closet while trying to also hold my cell phone flashlight to figure it out.  After about 30 minutes of this (real time = 45 seconds) I couldn’t even be scared because I was laughing so hard at my own stupidity, I began banging on the door in hopes that someone in the Emergency Department waiting room (directly outside the door) would have pity on this silly little Farangi.  Of course a nice lady did (because who could miss the blond girl going into the bathroom earlier and then mysteriously not coming out?).  There was a hole in the door that I shoved the key through and meekly squeaked “Help?”  She took the key and easily unlocked it from the outside for me with a smile.   Ethiopian Hospitality.  Heart.

A comparitive study

I wrote this entry last Friday.  Had a pretty awesome weekend shopping in Africa's largest outdoor market and swimming in crater lakes.  Will update my loyal readers soon.  For now I am off to my happy place...i.e. OR :-)

Because I think in studies now and I also can’t help but to compare Ethiopia to Samoa to America.  Maybe this a little early in the game to be attempting this, but here it goes…

On Food: Ethiopia wins, hands down.  Again, to be fair I haven’t even tried that many dishes, but everything I have tired is so flipping good!  There is so much spice!  In Samoa the only spice they ever used was salt.  Well, that is true unless you want to include coconut milk and butter.  All the food was horribly bland and covered in butter and coconut cream.  I would leave meals feeling like a bowling ball was sitting in my gut.  Obviously I love most American foods (mmm…cheese curds…) but in the first week in Ethiopia its just fun to experience a new, unique and delicious taste

On Coffee: Ethiopia again.  Sorry starbucks.  In Samoa their idea of coffee was that instant crap (gasp!) with approx 17 tablespoons of sugar and cream.  Sometimes I wasn’t sure if there was even coffee in there.  Samoa did have koko Samoa, which was pretty delicious, but again, lots of sugar.  And if we are going to play the hot chocolate game, Brussels is gonna win that one every time.  Man do I sound like a pretentious jet-setter or what??

On People: Sigh…Ethiopia, although Midwesterners may rival Ethiopians in niceness.  Everyone I have met (again in 1 week) has been so gentle and kind and everyone smiles.  To be fair, in my first week in Samoa I would probably have said the same thing about Samoans.  Samoans are incredibly happy people, but they are also very touchy and pushy.  I felt like I was constantly being touched, hugged, pushed, or pulled.  It wasn’t that big of a deal at the time, but I have noticed how nice it is to be in a culture that doesn’t constantly have to be touching you.  Samoans are also very nosy.  Whenever I opened a book or had a bag of things whoever was sitting next to me, whether I knew them or not, would grab my book or my bag and just riffle through it.  I grew to accept this and patiently wait for them to finish and give it back, but in Ethiopia I am constant collecting data and no one has asked to look at my computer or my notebook once.  They just smile at me politely and go about their business, similar to Americans in that way I guess.  You do your thing and I will do mine.

On Weather: America i.e. the midwest.  Ethiopia, like Samoa, does the dry/rainy season thing.  It is currently rainy (or as I like to call it “sleepy”) season.  Personally, I like my 4 seasons.  Yes snow is annoying, but it makes summer that much more enjoyable. 

And that is all I got for now.  Hopefully more categories to come.

Adventures in a Water Closet

For those of you who have ventured to the European planet or beyond you may have encountered a door marked “WC” standing for “Water Closet”.  My British friends love making fun of me for saying “Bathroom”.  “Is there actually a bath in that public toilet??”  Well no…but who wants to say I’m going to the toilet?  And to say loo would just be posing.  So how do we get water closet from all of this.  Well, I have a theory.  In many of these water closets one will find a shower with no walls and a drain not only in the shower but also in the middle of the floor.  Thus, when one showers in said water closet in becomes…well…full of water. 

So after traveling through time to get to Ethiopia I found myself standing in such a water closet.  Oh goody.  My first shower was lukewarm at best, but I thought, psh!  I’ve played this game before.  When I lived in Saaaamoa the water in my “shower” was arguably the coldest water on the island, so I used to go on a run or chase pigs around or do something to work up a sweat before I hopped into the frigid cement box.  So I tried something similar the next night, except with very limited space.  This time I did a bunch of sit-ups and push-ups (I don’t know if you heard me in there, but I did over a thousand) and then skipped into the water closet congratulating myself on how smart I was. 

In my particular water closet, the shower head is connected to a box that is connected to a wall outlet.  After stepping into the water closet the box starting making noise.  Weird.  Thought I, but continued enjoying my semi-lukewarm shower…until it was no longer semi-lukewarm but scalding hot.  Apparently said box is a water heater that was not working the day before.  You can turn it off, but then the water is ice cold.  So, boiling hot or ice bath are our choices here.  At least we have choices right?

My next WC adventure came yesterday at the hospital.  I have started a new project which involves collecting data from a book that is located in the emergency OR and is not allowed to leave the OR.  This means that I spent the last 2 days sitting on a wooden bench in a side room of the OR hunched over this book and listening to…well…let’s keep it light shall we?

On my first day I had to use the bathroom/loo/toilet/wc and I asked one of my new friends where I should go.  “Yes, come with me.”  Sure why not.  I followed him out into the Emergency Department which is scattered with scared faces eagerly looking towards my white coat like I know something.  My buddy showed me to a locked door in the corner of the ED.  He unlocked it to reveal a pitch black room with the sound of running water coming from…somewhere.  “You have light on your cell phone?”  Umm I think so?  “Good there is no light.  And I can only lock the door from the outside, so knock when you are done” and then a slight shove and I was standing in darkness in a water closet in a hospital in Ethiopia.  My we have come a long way from Vegas haven't we?

After fumbling with my phone, I found the flashlight option only to discover the running water sound was coming from a hose above a squat toilet.  Squat toilets.  You again.  I won’t go into the details, but its just not pretty.  At any rate, my buddy didn’t leave me and I was able to get out with a sigh of relief.  Needless to say, I have been dehydrating myself during the day (besides the coffee of course) only to sprint into my hotel at night to use my WC after a long day on the wooden bench.  Guess I am out of shape with adapting to my surroundings.  Then again, its only the first week…

And oh the coffee!

 How could I forget the coffee?  I’ve been to a country famous for beer, chocolate and waffles, which was delicious.  I’ve been to a country famous for beaches and coconuts, which was a swimmingly good time.  But a country famous for coffee?!  Yes please!  And everyone I have meet so far takes every opportunity to stop and enjoy said delectable coffee.  Every time my mentor and I walk by the little coffee stand in the hospital he says, “You like a coffee?”  Um, yeah!  So we stop and enjoy a cup no matter what we were doing or what time of day it is.  I like.

Other than that, today I spent the day doing data entry.  All.  Day.  Long.  Anyone who has had the “pleasure” of doing data entry for hours on end knows where I am coming from with this.  I got through 1 log book, only about 10 to go…

Open the gates! I'm an American!

Finally on African soil!  Well, unfortunately my dear devoted readers, my travels were about as exciting as driving through North Dakota with your mom(sorry Rocco I know you like that flat place).  I took off from Chicago at 1020pm headed to Istanbul where I was probably the only female on the plane that was not traveling with 5-9 screaming children.  But it was nothing that 2 mini-bottles of Turkish wine and a little white pill couldn’t make disappear.  I woke up in Instanbul with 20 min to run through customs and make it to my gate.  Of course, after sprinting through an airport that doesn’t really have signs (and when there were signs you can bet your Turkish delights they weren’t in English) I found my gate and discovered my plane was delayed.  Everytime.

When I did get on the plane it was about 6pm-ish Istanbul time.  I, of course, was not at all tired as it felt like morning to me.  So I stretched out in my emergency row seat and watched as many movies as possible, one being Jeff, Who Lives at Home (that was for you Carlisle…and yes, you are Jeff, and yes it is totally a sign that you had just told me about that movie and then it was on my plane…). 

I landed in Addis Ababa at approx 2am and thanks be to whomever you choose both of my bags made it.  Unfortunately my large suitcase that I have never used before was sporting a huge gash down the seam.  Cool.  My first night I stayed at the Hilton which was a very overpriced, but a good idea because they had a shuttle waiting for me and some grumpy businessmen.  When I arrived at the Hilton I luckily got on facebook to discover a friend had posted an article on my wall that skype had just been outlawed in Ethiopia and using it carries a 15 year jail sentence.  Awesome timing.  So there goes my mobile communications for now.   Hopefully blogs are still allowed…

I woke up in the Hilton and my phone said it was Sunday so it must be true.  I stumbled down the street to find the Harambee hotel which boasts a $25/night charge, is a 5 min walk from the hospital AND has free yummy breakfast!  So I checked it, pseudo-unpacked and promptly passed out for 5 hours.  I woke up at dinner time and against everything in my body, forced myself to eat.  I tried Doro Wat for the first time and it was delicious!  Dear Samoa, meet spices! 

Today I started work at Black Lion.  I mean, it was the first day and what first day isn’t exciting?  I was picked up by my Ethiopian mentor whom I have been harassing with emails for the past 6-7 months.  Luckily, he took it easy on me.  He showed me around the hospital, which was…eye-opening.  Before I left, the vascular surgeon from UW that I am working with, told me that when you go to Africa you need to take a different nose because the smells can be so overwhelming.  It was like every 5 steps I was hit with a different intoxicating scent, from harsh metallic to sweet spices.  I did not take my camera because I didn’t want to seem like a tourist on the first day, but I hope to take pictures in the future as my inept writing skills would not do it justice.

After my short tour we went to a staff meeting/rounds.  I found out (not for the first time that day) that Ethiopians are incredibly soft spoken.  Maybe my eardrums are just de-sensitized to screaming rugby girls, but I could only catch a word or 2 about every 5 sentences.  After the meeting we went on a hunt for OR log books for my research.  I came here with 3 projects in mind, hoping that one would turn into a paper.  We found that one of the projects I was considering, a study on ED mortality, was already being done by a group of Canadians.  1 project down.  Blame Canada. 

After this discovery I went on rounds with my mentor and a bunch of overexcited and overeager med students.  Ahhh…reminds me of home.  What did not remind me of home were the patients.  There was little boy with a goiter the size of a cantelope, like the kind that we only see in text books.  (sorry if that is to sciencey – just google goiter and you will see what I am talking about).  After rounds it was time for lunch.  My mentor took myself and an other female resident from UW who is also working here out to a pizza joint.  I know…who knew? 

When we came back to the hospital I started working an other research paper idea and have pretty much been doing that ever since.  At any rate, that is my first couple days.  No super crazy stories as of yet, but I am sure that can only last so long…love to you all and more to come!

Adventure is out there!

So its June 15th huh?  Weird.  Those last 4 weeks sure did fly by fast, which makes me wonder what the next 4 weeks of summer have in store for this Adventurer.  This last week I have been experiencing an emotion that is very foreign to me.  Fear.  I will arrive in Ethiopia at 1215am, a solo white female in the craddle of humanity with a ton of crap and a lot of American cash.  I have a room booked for the first night at the ridiculously overpriced Hilton (really Hilton, need you charge so much in Africa?), but after that I was unable to book a guesthouse in advance because they don't do reservations.  I guess that is an American thing to plan ahead.  The doctors I am supposed to work with while I am there have yet to email me where I am supposed to go on Monday, much less a number to call in order to find them.  The good news is I have an Ethiopian cell phone chalk full of numbers of people living Addis that are ready to help out a Wisconsinite at the drop of a cheesehead.

When I joined the Peace Corps I was 23 years old and too dumb to be scared of anything.  Rocco says I should use a nicer word, like naive, but I still say 23 year olds are the dumbest creatures on the planet.  Now at 29, I have a sense of my own mortality, but I guess I was dumb enough to think I could do this on my own so maybe by 30 my adventures will be to more comfortable places like time shares in Florida. 

Don't get me wrong.  I am beyond excited about this adventure.  I finally get to go to freaking Africa!  I just want to be there, know where I will be staying for 4 weeks and know that the doctors I will be working with see me and know I am there.  Worrying has always been my strong suit.  Taking a deep breath and letting go of the reins is something I am still working on...until then...Adventure is out there!   Squirrel!!!

I'm back!  Well, its been almost 3 1/2 years (yes, I just counted that on my fingers) since I packed up my mosquito nets and moldy t-shirts on that funny little South Pacific island.  I am well overdue for an other adventure to say the least.  I guess that is a little unfair to say that the last 3 1/2 years have not been an American Adventure of sorts.  I had a lot of crazy ideas while in the Peace Corps, one of them was to go to medical school.  So upon returning from that silly South Pacific place I went to a funny little pretentious east coast school to get my Post-Baccalaureate Pre-Medical "certificate" that really meant nothing except that I could then START applying for medical schools at the young age of 27.

So I did that and then promptly moved to Madison, Wisconsin to play rugby, drink beer, eat cheese and work in a research job in the Department of Surgery all while applying to schools.  I guess the important people were out of the office one day because by the grace of Darwin I got into the University of Wisconsin.  Last August I started my first year of medical school here in Madison.  That sure was neat.

I survived first year, but Derm just about did me in.  Anyone that goes into derm is weird.  Is this the part where I have to say that the views on this blog are mine and mine alone?  Anywho, where does the adventure come in?  At the beginning of the year I was already itching to do something crazy.  For those that don't know, the summer between your first and second year is your LAST SUMMER EVER!  Seriously they take away sun tans and bikinis after this summer.  Its true, I read it on facebook.  So, like all type A people, most med students sign up for research jobs for their last holy summer.  I would love to say I didn't, but I did...but wait, its a cool research job because I get to go to Ethiopia!  There is a vascular surgeon at UW who is from Ethiopia and has established a partnership with Black Lion Hospital in Addis Ababa.  I approached him approximately 5 minutes after I received my acceptance letter asking him if there would be any research opportunities for someone like me.  Sure, why not?  he said.  We dreamed up a whole mess of projects I could do while I spend 4 weeks this summer in Addis.  Most of these projects will be working in their Department of Surgery and one includes a needs assessment investigating the need (or not) for a colorectal residency program, which means I get to team up with my of my favorite colorectal surgeons who came from that same silly little eastcoast school I mentioned before.

I fly out for Addis June 15th and will hang out there until July 13th at which point I will jet on down to see a long-lost Hanks cousin in South Africa who spends her time flying planes around the south.  What can I say, Hanks women are badass whatever country you are in.  I will spend a week with her and then fly back to the States on June 20th.  I think I will be flying for 30 hours, but it will always be Friday, which is awesome because I can then add "discovered time travel" to my resume, which will surely piss off many of the gunners in my med school class. 

Until I leave I will be researching various medically Ethopianly related topics in the Department of Surgery as well as doing a bit of jet-setting in the states including going to Pittsburgh this weekend to play on the Midwest Select side team, Denver next weekend to watch my dreamy rugby guy play in the National Championships for rugby, followed by same dreamy long-haired brother's wedding in Vegas the next weekend.  And then I will wake up in Addis....Adventures continued...