Un-becoming.

It's funny reading back through old posts and seeing how you've changed. Not that I have many posts to read through... but still interesting! 

The one that caught my attention was the "a little too acclimated" one. I've actually been thinking about that type of thing a lot lately. As I study for board exams I look back at the person I became last year as an intern in the hospital... and I really don't like it. The mentality that one should try to get out of doing as much work as possible, that you always blame "the other guy," that something you're doing is always wrong. Though I didn't realize it at the time, I really became bitter last year.

Maybe it had to do with being in an atmosphere where the Lord really wasn't. Maybe it was because 24-7 you're thinking about the hospital and you're so tired you just can't make any extra effort anymore. 

Whatever the reason, I have to admit I've had such a nice breath of fresh air the past 6 months. Getting married, being around other people who share my faith, baking and cooking and learning to be a homemaker... I prefer it so much I'm not sure I want to go back! 

Not sure what comes next... I must take the boards though I don't know where that will lead, or if I'll even want to continue once I pass. One thing's for sure though: I do NOT want to be that person I was at the end of last year. I guess I've just got to keep filling myself up with Godly attributes and influences to balance it all out. 

Lord give me grace.

on death

You'd think you'd get used to death. We look at cadavers, talk about death and all the possible causes of death. Each illness has its complications and many lead to death. Mortality rates of different countries are discussed, which cancer has a higher mortality, which disease has a lower mortality in which population...and so forth.

I think it is possible to get used to nakedness (though that topic also starts out awkwardly). You see so many pictures (and live examples) of nakedness that it starts becoming pretty normal.

But no. It doesn't matter how many cadavers or statistics get flashed at you. You never get used to death.

the trouble with blue eyes is....

The trouble with blue eyes is the amount of attention you get in a predominantly brown-eyed country. Seriously. I've had flattering comments for sure, or the occasional too-familiar-stare. The most bizarre comment was a stunned, "Oh, your eye-color is natural, isn't it?"

Yesterday I again went to visit our hospital with a classmate. This time there was actual work taking place. Some people were setting up offices, others computers. The majority of the place was still empty or in disarray, but there is still hope to actually starting.

So I went to the hospital and my blue eyes apparently attracted attention again. The security guard stares long and hard at me, "This must be your first time here" (because I guess he would have remembered me if he had seen me before?).

Once Nev (the classmate who was with me) and I passed him I asked her if it was just my imagination or was he a little to eager? She agreed, he was weird.


Blah. This is a great start to the school year.

SNOW DAY!!!

The moment I got the text message I felt glee.

God bless him, our class prez this year instituted a text messaging system to alert the class to schedule changes or things of that nature (since our university can't seem to get its act together in the world of technology).
 
I've been waiting all summer for classes to start, impatiently so. And yet, when I got the text an hour ago that the first day of classes has been delayed by 1 week, my heart couldn't help but leap for joy.

I guess it's something about that childhood glory of waking up to snow-covered rooftops and realizing,  No School Today!

Course that means our classes will extend all the way to the end of June.... but for now, who cares?

I have 5 snow days ahead :-D

brand-spankin' new!

So new in fact that there are no patients, no doctors, barely even furniture!

Today I visited our new hospital. It was beautiful, complete with sinks in the hallways for easy hand-washing (though I didn't see any soap dispensers). American-style elevators, sliding glass doors, everything new and shiny. This is what most of the rooms look like (courtesy of a classmate):

I'm so excited to be out of that old dingy hospital that was there before! Buuuuttt.....without patients, doctors, or furniture, how on earth are we going to start classes on Monday? The rumor is that the first month or two will be "a lie," (i.e. we won't have legit classes). I'll be interested to see how this pans out....

But it is exciting to be in such a brand new hospital!

a little too acclimated...

The funny thing about living in a different culture is the effort to become acclimated. One always seems to be trying to "fit in," and worrying about whether everyone else knows you're a "foreigner." But is there a point at which you become a little too acclimated?

Last week a friend of mine visited, and we spent some time catching up and seeing a few sites. One mode of transportation here is ferry boat. We had limited time, and half the fun of this city is being on the ferry. So I suggested we get on the ferry and instead of getting off at the last stop, stay on and make the whole thing a round-trip, getting off at our original location. 

It seemed simple enough.

So the ferry arrives at its destination (before it would turn back and bring us home) and as it happens some man comes around and starts kicking stragglers off the ferry. No big deal, we could get off and get on again after paying the $1 it costs to ride. But instead, I start yelling at the guy (ok, so maybe not quite yelling, but talking loudly anyway) about how we got on the wrong boat and we need to go back to the other side. He keeps saying we have to get off and I keep saying that we need to stay. Finally we give in and get on a different ferry.

On the surface I suppose this isn't really a big deal. So I told a little white lie. The thing is, I've always been a bit of a "goody-two-shoes." Not so much that other people felt judged (I hope), but I never lie. Let me put it this way -- I was the kid who asked her dad for a spanking because she had lied about turning off the bathroom lights while her sister was using the toilet. (I felt much better after the spanking.)

And there we have it. I lied. The worst part is, it mostly bothered me because my friend was with me and saw it happen!  Oh dear. 

But how is this being "too acclimated," you say? Well, I think maybe all my classmates cheating and such is making me just a little too OK with dishonesty. On the upside, now that I've realized it hopefully I can do something about it before it gets out of hand! 


Forgive me?

drum roll please....

It's true, I passed!

Seeing as I found out a couple of months ago, it seems a bit anti-climactic at this point. Buuuttt....still exciting.

I happened to find out at Niagara Falls. My friend B and I had just arrived when I received a phone call that our results were posted. Our exam results get posted on a bulletin board, exposed for the whole world to see. Since most of the class disperses after finals, those who remain in the city typically take photos of the posted grades and email the whole class. I was waiting to receive such an email.

So B and I arrive at Niagara, excited about seeing the falls and also about my potential passing (or failing) grade. My parents (who were keeping an eye on my email) call just as we arrive, and through much static and bad reception they read off the grade listed next to what they *think* is my ID number.

"No Mom, that's not my ID number!!"

     "But these are the only grades listed...."

"Mom, check again, my ID number is ______"

      "I don't see that number listed anywhere...."

"Are you sure??"

      "Yes."

We hang up and I start freaking out. The school lost my exam. There is no other explanation for my student ID number not being listed! Now remember, this is the university that would not accept typed lab reports, they had to be hand written. As you can imagine, that also means that speaking with them on the phone about a missing exam was probably not going to cut it.

Thankfully, God gave us brains. As my mom had listed off the ID numbers over the phone, I realized that it wasn't just my number that was missing. The numbers immediately surrounding my number were also missing. Thanks to Facebook, my mom got in touch with one of the girls who I knew had an ID number close to mine. As it happened, this friend's grade was also missing. She went to the student office and asked what was going on, and it turned out that the office had simply forgotten to post the last page of scores.

So yes, I did pass, and I found out at Niagara Falls. Never a dull moment around here!