Adjusting to Life Back in the USA

Hey there again everyone. I’d be willing to bet that you thought you wouldn’t be hearing from me again on this blog site, since my France journey has drawn to a close. However, I wanted to take an opportunity to write at least one more blog post so that I may be able to reflect on my experiences over the past month and a half. Much has happened in my life over this time, and I’ve come to know that as an introvert, it takes time for me to process everything that has happened and appreciate everything to its fullest. So if you’re still with me, I wanted to thank you for traveling this journey with me. It’s been a long road and I really appreciate your constant support and encouragement. I am confident that even though my France adventure itself has reached its conclusion, that the story that it is writing in my life is only entering a new chapter. Yes, I look forward to sharing stories and telling tales over the next several months will all of you who are willing to listen. But even more than just the stories, the mark that this program…that this summer abroad has had on my life will continue to influence and direct my future as a medical doctor, as a citizen of the world, and as a child of God.

My last blog entry was written in the expectation that when I left France, I would be returning Sunday evening. However, despite my eager rush through baggage claim and American customs in the Montreal airport, I missed my flight to Detroit by a mere half-hour. I was very grateful to have made the acquaintance of two memorable people on my voyage home. Paul sat next to me on the airplane from Nice to Paris. He was a very kind man, and I certainly jumped at the opportunity to speak French to him for almost two hours. Once we arrived in Paris, he helped me find my way to the terminal, with which I was greatly appreciative, since if you weren’t previously aware, Paris Charles DeGaulle is one of the largest airports in the world.

An old picture nonetheless, but boy will I miss this view

Quickly, I boarded the airplane, where I embarked on the international leg of my trip. I watched two movies, one of which was Frozen…in French, of course.  For the last hour or so, I spoke with Mona, a young girl in the seat behind me. She was from Tunisia, but was coming to Ottawa for seven months to study abroad. Once again, I jumped at the opportunity to speak French, and for the first time in my life, I began to feel confident speaking the language with complete strangers. Like Paul, I said goodbye to Mona in the Montreal airport, but I knew that somehow, someway, I had made a friend. It was a strange feeling, but truly for the first time, I felt as though my personality was starting to shine through in a non-native language. I was able to express myself for who I was and have a fluent conversation. That is a gift that no summer-abroad tuition bill or countless hours in a French classroom can buy.

I spent that evening in the airport hotel. I wasn’t complaining, because it turned out to be one of the nicest hotels that I had ever stayed in…all expenses paid of course. I dealt out the remainder of my Canadian currency at the hotel restaurant that evening, just before swimming in the pool. I received one of the nicest compliments of my life when I stepped into the hotel gift shop. I talked with the sweet older lady behind the counter, and it likely took her a minute or so to realize that I was neither French nor Canadian and in fact, French was not my native language. Regardless, she told me that I spoke French than any American that she had ever met. I figured for a woman with a number of years that had to be a pretty significant accomplishment. With my head held a little bit higher than normal that night, I went to bed at a mischievous 9:30pm. After all, I had to be up at 4:30 in the morning to catch my next flight.

AirFrance serves Camembert cheese. France hadn't left me after all

The next morning went off without a hitch. Waking up early wasn’t a big issue, since my body was still on French time for the most part. I boarded the airplane destined for New York Laguardia, spent some time at the airport café where I ordered a piping hot cup of coffee and talked to my new friends Jason the lawyer and Jennifer the interior designer, and boarded my ninth and final airplane of my voyage…and this one was destined for Grand Rapids, Michigan.

I was going home.

The flight passed by quickly, and I spoke to a nice, midwestern man who happened to be from Ludington. When we entered a conversation (back in English, unfortunately) about where his daughter would go to college (between University of Michigan, Michigan State, and Hope College), I knew at that moment that my French adventure was truly over. However, I wasn’t reluctant to run and give my family a big hug at the end of the gate, that hug in which I had waited over thirty hours from the start of my voyage. We all went together to Rainbow Grill, one of my favorite Dutch restaurants. Yep, I was certainly back in America.

My dad snapped this picture just as I walked through

the terminal of Gerald R. Ford International Airport

The past couple weeks have gone by like a flash. We spent the few days before the Fourth of July up at the family’s cottage, where we enjoyed some time on the beach, fishing in Silver Lake, climbing the sand dunes and walking up to the lighthouse at Ludington, eating ice cream at the Dippy Whip, and roasting marshmallows and banana boats at the campfire. I am grateful that their still remains over a month of summer left before I must report for football camp August 11. Despite my online physics class picking back up again, I still have some things to look forward to this summer, including a family trip up to Mackinaw Island and the Straits State Park at the end of July and chaperoning my sister’s high school Cedar Point trip in the beginning of August. I would like to, if the opportunity arises, make a weekend trip back up to SpringHill to say hi to all my friends working up there this summer and of course, ride the zipline a few times as well. I know it’s very far in advance, but I would love to spend next summer back up at SpringHill, working in the infirmary as a lead or a medical person. In that way, I can receive hundreds of patient care hours for medical school, while still having all the same opportunities to hang out with and love on kids.

Summer 2013 up at SpringHill. I would love to go back next summer

Yes, this summer has truly been one to remember. As I sit in the office of my dentist, waiting impatiently to have an old, broken tooth fixed, my mind is elsewhere. I reflect back on all my experiences this summer. I think back November of last year to when I first received confirmation from Professor Winn that I had been accepted into this program, France for the Pre-Med. I reminisice on the months of preparation before departing on the adventure of a lifetime. I vividly recollect my emotions as I waved goodbye to my family at the Detroit airport, and for the first time in my life, jumped onto an uncharted boat. Oh certainly, these sentiments will never escape me. I will hold onto them for the remainder of my life, and maybe just maybe, someday I'll be able to share them with another human who finds him or herself standing before the foothold of the opportunity of a lifetime. And the one piece of advice that I would give to him or her, would have to be this: "jump in head first, and don't look back." I will close by blog with this one quote that has meant a lot to me in my journey past, present, and future.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop to look around once in a while you could miss it."

-Quote from Ferris Bueller's Day Off

En Disant Adieu

Hey there once again friends and family. I’m writing to you on what has to be, one of the most bittersweet moments of my life. Yes indeed, this post is coming from the airport terminal in Nice, France. It’s June 29, 2014 and today is the day that I go home. A wave of emotions is sweeping over me, and I haven’t been able to process them all yet, probably due to a loss of sleep, a week full of exams, and an ungodly amount of French café espresso. Oh trust me, if you thought that you knew coffee in the past, I’d be quick to caution to remember to distinguish the difference between American and French coffee, paying careful attention to the potencies of the latter.

My French adventure began just over one month ago. I still remember vividly saying goodbye to my parents in the Detroit airport, as I stepped out to embark on the journey of a lifetime. I also remember feeling, despite the fact that I was so excited for France that I was looking forward to the feeling of going home. Call it a paradox, but in meeting people from across the world who were on their way home, I knew that I would be able to look forward to the feeling of stepping through the terminal and seeing my family for the first time in over one month. To have them hug me, and begin to share stories about everything that has happened during the time when we were worlds away, that is truly something that I can truly look forward to. I know that all that stands between me and that is 14 short hours and three airport security checks.

This last week has certainly been one of the busiest and charged weeks of my life. Having two final exams on Wednesday as well as a final presentation for my internship at the hospital on Friday certainly left me with nothing less than a full plate, as far as work goes. I finished my internship at Hôpital St. Roch this past Tuesday. I had the opportunity to work on the ambulance for the final two days of my internship. Nothing too memorable happened on the ambulance as I only had one hospital transfer in two days, but I did benefit from getting to meet some new people and learning more holistically how the urgent medicine system in France works. Of course, saying goodbye to the other medical students and doctors was difficult, but just like last time I was sure to bring a cake to show appreciation for everything that they had taught me. We look a few pictures as well in order to be sure to always remember «l’équipe médicale». After all, it is a French thing.

L'équipe médicale au Hôpital St. Roch

Last evening, at the mountainside house of Madame Laborde, all of the students and their host families gathered together to celebrate one last time together the program, our professors who had taught us so much over the summer, our host families who had graciously welcomed us into their homes, and of course all the new friendships that we had made that will last a lifetime. Some students played a song or performed a dance. I really enjoyed listening to Anya and Anastasia belt out the classical music on the grand piano through the window of Madame Laborde’s house. Thomas and I harmonized a version of the well know song “Love is an Open Door,” but of course setting it to the French version, «L’amour est un cadeau ». We had a blast preparing it and nailing (almost) every note. We even got some laughs from the crowd thrown in there too.

 2014 France for the Pre-Med Students

 Myself and Professor Colette Winn

I wanted to dedicate this final paragraph to my host family, Angèlique, Gilles, and Axel Brillet. Words cannot describe just how grateful I was able to spend the summer, not only just living in their house and eating their food, but being able to get to know each of them on a real and personal basis. I will be eternally thankful for having the blessing of living with them, going to church with them every week, and making friendships that will last a lifetime. They dropped me off at the airport this morning--all three of them. That's how it was from the beginning, it was like we were a family. I never once felt like an outsider or the "foreign kid," but was rather welcomed with open arms and maybe a bisous here and there. Still though, it was most difficult to say goodbye to Axel. He doesn't know yet, but I brought home with me the little paper boats that he made for me on the first day. It's a good thing that au'revoir means "see ya later!"

 Angèlique, Gilles, Axel, and I

Quite honestly, no caption required

Une Semaine qui Reste

Hey guys, I'm writing this blog to you on a special day. It is June 23, which means that exactly one month has passed since I left the United States to embark on the adventure of my lifetime. As I sit here one month later, I have so much to reflect upon and the best part is knowing that despite that I will leave France in one week, the adventure has just begun. My time in France has been a period of personal growth, that's for certain. I am very blessed to have had the opportunity to live with an amazing host family who loves and serves the Lord, and has warmly welcomed me into their home for the past month. I am very grateful to have made an amazing set of friends, many of whom will likely read this blog post (now that they know that they've become blogspot famous), and it goes without saying that I am confident that these same friendships will continue though the rest of the summer and infinitely into the future. And I am especially gracious to have had the opportunity to practice medicine here in France, and being able to realize my dream as a future doctor one day at a time.

 At the Statue of Messena

Left to right: Anastasia, Emily, Emma, me, Thomas, Caroline, Natalie, Margo, Anh

This past week was especially charged. The semester is winding down, so many of us have started preparing for our big exams for our courses Santé Publique and Medécins, Malades, et Malades on Wednesday. I worked last week on a research paper for the former, and ended up conducting a small survey which examined the thoughts and attitudes of young people towards smoking and tobacco usage. I thought this would be a particularly interesting topic, since France seems to be pretty well known to have a high percentage of people, particularly young people who smoke. I enjoyed writing the paper, and actually found it somewhat enjoyable to go around from place to place, finding people and interviewing them on their thoughts on the subject matter.

Other things in Jake's world, or more like all of Western Europe, is that the World Cup has been going on here for the past couple weeks. It's been pretty wild, and people have been celebrating the French and Algerian victories by throwing large celebrations and making lots of noise in the streets. It's been fun to watch, but it's also important to also be careful because it is still an unfamiliar place, and not everyone here is as kind as my host family.

Snorkeling in a small bay of the Mediterranean Sea with Eric

This past weekend was very rewarding. Starting Saturday afternoon, I ended up working at my stage again, but this time it was a little bit different. I met a cool British guy who was in as a patient for having a pretty deep gash just above his wrist. Since the doctors or medical students working that day didn't speak English very well, I ended up being the translator for most of the interactions. I was grateful to have had the opportunity to develop a good relationship with the patient in being able to talk to him about his life, his family, his work etc. However, that didn't change the fact that he still needed surgery to fix the gash on his arm. So, I asked the doctors what would happen, and they told me to put on the scrubs, and prep myself for surgery. Whoa, I actually was going to get to wear the gloves and mask and the whole deal?! It was a really short surgery, but the doctor and medical student performing the surgery talked me through each step of the procedure, so at the end I felt like I was able to understand it well. It seems like my British friend was pretty satisfied with the surgery himself, as he requested my phone number and contact information after the surgery. I'm still waiting to see if he keeps his promise to have me and the other surgeons over for dinner at his house.

One last little bit before I hit the books and start studying for those exams that are fast approaching. Yesterday afternoon, after going to church together with my host family, my friend Eric, who I had met though church, picked me up in his car and we drove to Vieille Franche (about 10 minutes away from Nice). I had originally thought that we were just going to lie out on the beach and see a little bit different part of the region. You can imagine my surprise when Eric asked me my shoe size and proceeded to pull out the fins, mask, and snorkel. Whoa, this was really cool. I remembered the only other time I had tried snorkeling in my life, and that ended up falling short as just one summer ago I was not able to go to the Bahamas, in which case I would have been able to snorkel in the ocean. But anyways, Eric and I spent the better part of two hours exploring the little sea alcove and taking pictures of the fish and marine life with Eric's waterproof camera. It only got better when Eric's fiancée, Aude, met us at the beach, and together we went to eat dinner at a nice French restaurant right on the coast of the sea. After the sun went down and the lights started to flicker on, illuminating the canvas of the sailboats moored in the harbor, it truly was a picture for a post card. The only thing is, these scenes have been exactly for one month now, my reality.

Horizon skylights at the harbor of Vieille Franche

Ciao da Venezia!

Hey there again friends and family. This afternoon, I find myself writing to you while sitting on a park bench just outside the city square. The ever-familiar sensation of freshly baked croissant rolls and baguettes sweeps past my nose. I watch the people walk by, speaking an artist’s palette of languages and cultures. The boats slowly troll by in the harbor. It’s a day much like any other here in Southern Europe. The only difference is that today, I find myself writing to you not from Nice, France, the land of rocky shorelines and mild sea breezes, but from Venice, Italy, a land famous for its crowded city sidewalks, and narrow channels full of patiently tied-up wooden boats and boisterous gondola conductors.

We are in Venice, Italy, and let me tell you: this place certainly lives up to its reputation of gorgeous Roman architecture and weather-worn city buildings. There are nine of us here (me, Thomas, Sarah, Emily, Anastasia, Emma, Becca, Katie, and Margo). Last Friday morning, each of us woke up early in the morning, grabbed our bags, and headed over to the airport. I said goodbye to my host family at the airport, who had graciously agreed to drop me off. They wished me Bon Voyage, and I rushed to meet the rest of the group in the airport terminal.

We arrived in Venice at approximately 11:30am on Friday morning. We took a boat over to the main island of Venice, as we quickly learned that boats are the only form of transportation in this land that is slowly sinking into the Adriatic Sea. We checked into our apartment for the weekend, and quickly made our way around the beautiful city streets. I learned that in the city of Venice, there are over 400 bridges that connect the crowded city sidewalks and allow passengers to cross. We quickly found a good place to stop and eat lunch. I ordered a ham and artichoke pizza. I'll never forget it either, because it was my very first true Italian meal. Of course, it was unbelievable. And the best part, is this was only the beginning. We would have so many more amazing meals, that I thought I'd save you the grief of having to read all the adjectives I could think of to describe the food, and just list my appetites below.

Friday afternoon: artichoke and ham pizza

Friday evening: pasta carbonara (hands down, the best)

Saturday morning: some fresh fruit and a chocolate croissant

Saturday afternoon: spaghetti with meat sauce

Saturday evening: homemade lasagna

Sunday afternoon: pomodoro with rigatoni noodles

Sunday evening: gnocchi with bologna sauce of the day

Needless to say, we ate pretty well.

An afternoon on the Rialto Bridge; Left to right: Anastasia, me, Emma, Thomas, Becca

Much of the other time in Venice, was spent exploring the island and seeing some of the really interesting sights. We saw the large Marco Polo's city square, surrounded by the gigantic Doge's palace and St. Mark's Basilica. After first arriving on Friday Becca, Katie, and I took some time to explore some of the less-touristy areas of the island. We took lots of pictures together, but were careful to drink lots of water because it was over 90 degrees Fahrenheit that afternoon. I enjoyed being able to see some of the beautiful Roman and Byzantine style architecture, while also noticing the endless rows of bridges spanning across the canals. We met one of Anastasia's friends, Sara, who is studying abroad in Venice for the summer, just like us in Nice! After sitting down at a restaurant and devouring what had to have been the best pasta carbonara I have ever contemplated (Thomas and I are still talking about it to this day), we walked with Sara to drop her off at her boat stop. Since it had been raining, Emily and I didn't waste the opportunity to swing dance in the city square, while the familiar notes of accordion music hung in the air.

The next morning, Emily and I went for a morning run. As we ran through the empty city sidewalks, the fragrances of freshly baked pastries swept past my nose. I had to tell every muscle in my body to refrain from stopping to purchase one. Somehow, I succeeded. We ran down by the docks, and I swear, up and down every single set of stairs in that city before coming to a beautiful city park. Despite eventually becoming lost and turning what was supposed to be a 30 minute jog into over an hour run, I really enjoyed the time that we got to spend together and getting to know Emily more. Something about sweaty foreheads and cramping calves can really bring about a good conversation.

Saturday afternoon, we visited two different Venetian islands: Murano and Burano. Would anyone else fault me if I accidentally got them mixed up? After all, who names these things anyway? You may not know in advance, but Murano is world famous for its glass production. We were able to see several demonstrations where the glass artists worked their magic to produce a beautiful vase or a majestic horse. I wasn't about to spend 60 euros to give that trusty steed a home, but I did pick up a small bracelet to bring home to my sister. After all, it was made in Italy.

The gang on the island of Burano (or was it Murano? I can't remember)

Left to right: Margo, Katie, Emma, Emily, Anastasia, Becca, and Thomas

After Murano, we ventured over to Burano. Don't worry if you're confused-I was too. Since Murano is world famous for something, it only makes sense that Burano makes something for itself too. And that something just so happens to be lace. Yes, lace...the frilly white stuff that people wore around their necks in the 1700's or the decoration on fancy wedding cakes. Yet, to my surprise, it was actually very interesting when we went to the lace museum and watched several older women hand stitch lace garments. We learned that one women had been practicing her trade for almost 80 years. It's easy to see why people have come to appreciate this form of art over the decades. Even so, I still couldn't find myself to buy any lace. I suppose grandma will have to stick to the crochet and knitting.

On the boat ride on the way back, Becca and I spoke with a young Italian woman for a little while. She spoke English well and told the story of the time that she studied abroad for a semester at Wake Forest University and is now practicing law in her native country of Italy. Becca and I told her a little about our program and what we were learning this summer. She seemed to be very excited to hear what he had to say. She recommended some good Italian restaurants to stop by (as if I hadn't had enough food already). But I did notice that earlier she had been listening to Coldplay. Apparently, European kids aren't much different than American kids in terms of understanding good music. Before we had to say goodbye, I made sure to ask her name. Although I'm not sure if I'm spelling it exactly correct, I'll never forget Italy, long boat ride conversations, and Licia!

After returning to the main island, the nine of us found a nice restaurant to celebrate the birthday of our friend, Becca. It was very nice, since the restaurant prepared a private room for us. I had always wanted to taste real Italian lasagna, so at this meal, my dream became a reality. I'm pretty sure that it goes without saying, Italians know how to cook. Becca turned twenty and our bellies were full. The only logical thing to do next was to get some Italian gelato. And of course, we did.

Everyone together celebrating Becca's 20th birthday. Your smile looks great, Emily.

Sunday was our final day in Venice together. The temperature cooled down a bit, but the spirits were still high. We spent the morning visiting the Doge's palace, bordering Marco Polo's square. I learned that back when Venice was a principality, before the time of Napoleon, it was governed by a republic, with the doge holding the highest power. We visited the countless rooms of the palace, and I was amazed by the immaculate art and gold carvings on the ceilings. It truly was a place fit only for the most important people. However, just when I thought that the beauty and intricacy of the palace was second to none, we migrated over to St. Mark's Basilica. Although my camera battery died and I was unable to take pictures of the Basilica, I have never quite seen anything so immense and breath-taking. A depiction of Jesus on the cross carved in marble hung above the altar at the front of the chamber, while one hundred foot ceilings, etched completely in gold depicted the twelve disciples or the Virgin Mary. I paused for a brief moment to light a candle and kneel at the altar, before rejoining my friends.

Of course, when one thinks of Venice, their mind immediately jumps to the city in the water, with canals and gondolas. There remained yet one thing to do in order for our Venice trip to be complete. Dividing into two boats, we boarded the gondolas, and rowed down the peaceful city canals. I tried to snap lots of pictures for my host mother, since she is currently writing a theater piece set in Venice and is in need of a photo for the cover. We were very fortunate to have the gondola in front of us pay to have an accordion player and Italian singer accompany them during their ride. I felt like we got the full experience too, but didn't even have to pay for it. What luck!

 On board a Venetian gondola with Becca and our conductor, Antonio

(sorry about cutting out your head)

They say all good things must come to an end eventually, and unfortunately this was the case with our Venice trip. We did a few more things here and there, such as visiting an old book library and buying what probably seemed like ungodly amounts of gelato, but ultimately, after eating one quick last meal together on Sunday evening, we packed up our baggage, checked out of the apartment, and made our way over to the dock to catch the shuttle boat to the airport. Just as we started pulling out of the harbor, and everyone began to tell stories, highs, and lows from the trip, I made sure to take one last look back across the Grand Canal to see the Rialto Bridge peering out over us. This was the place that together we started our adventure in Venice. It only made sense to glace out the stern of the boat as the bridge slowly became faint in the distance, realizing that although we were saying goodbye to our time together in Venice, we were welcoming buongiorno to many more adventures to come.

Un Jeu qui S'appelle Pétanque

Hey guys, it's me again. I know that this is my second blog entry in two days, but I figured that it would help make up for the past week when it was difficult to blog. And of course, so much has happened in the past few days that it would have been impossible to try to squeeze it into one blog. So here I go again.

Last Friday evening, myself and approximately ten other American students volunteered our evening in order to participate in something called travail bénévole. Every Friday evening,  a coalition of many catholic people from many churches goes around the city and serves food to homeless people. Together, along with many other French people, we traveled across the city, making stops at four different catholic churches in order to set up a temporary food line and serve food to homeless people. The people were very appreciative and I even had an opportunity to practice speaking my French with the majority of them. I really enjoyed the opportunity to give-back to a community that has already given a lot to me, despite having only been here for two weeks at this point.

On Saturday afternoon, I went with my host dad and his older son to watch my host brother Axel's Judo tournament. Even though the tournament took the better part of the afternoon, I really enjoyed the opportunity in being able to watch Axel participate in something, that I know if I were in his place, it would really mean a lot to me to see my older "brother" spending six hours of his day watching me compete. And it was worth it too! Axel and his team took first place in their division. It was really exciting for him, as I could tell when his eyes lit up as the judges walked down the line of nine and ten-year-old's, handing to each one a brand new shiny, silver trophy. It brought me back to my days of martial arts when I was his age.

 Left to right: Rémi, Axel, and me at Axel's Judo tournament

Immediately following the Judo tournament, my host family and I packed up the car and drove an hour and a half north up into the Alps in order to spend the weekend at a retreat for the church of my host family. I made sure to pack my new French Bible in my suitcase. We got settled into our housing and quickly met everyone else to play some games and wind down the night. The next morning, we had worship again together. Once again, some of the songs seemed very familiar, until I realized that we were singing the same songs that we sing in church every week. I noticed that during every worship service, there is a time where the people can say a short, spontaneous prayer. I really felt like that was something that I wanted to do, so I asked my host mother if I could write out a prayer and say it at the next service. She asked the pastor and he excitedly agreed. I didn't think much of it, until the service actually came and I suddenly realized that they had planned for me to read the prayer in front of the entire congregation. Now it may have only been thirty people or so, but still...reading a prayer in front of a bunch of French people is a little intimidating. But I took a deep breath and read the words that I had written down on paper out loud.

"Seigneur, nous sommes ici pour te louer. Nous sommes ici pour t'adorer. Nous sommes ici pour chanter toutes les merveilleuses choses que tu as faites. Je suis reconnaissant que tu m'ai ammené en cet endroit. Je suis reconnaissant pour tout le monde ici qui m'a accueilli. Merci Sergneur car tous les gens que je ne connaissais pas bien m'ont toute suite consideré comme un ami. Dieu, tu es capable de surpasser les frontières des langues. Parce que tu nous as donné la Parole au début. Merci Seigneur pour tout ce que tu as déjà fait. Merci Seigneur pour tout ce que tu es en train de faire. Merci Seigneur pour tout ce que tu feras. Amen."

Have you ever heard of Bocci ball? Well if you haven't, let me explain it to you a little bit. Four people play the game at a time, divided into two teams of two. Someone tosses a small yellow ball, called a bouchon, approximately 10 yards away, and the players take turns trying to throw large steel balls while trying to get as close to the bouchon as possible. Well, I learned that this game here is called Pétanque and it is a big deal. I was on a team with another kid, about my age and even though we fought valiantly, we came up just short against the fearless team of two sixteen year old girls. (For once, Sara, I hope you're not reading this blog). It was nice having other kids my age on the retreat. I had many opportunities to listen to and practice my French. I truly believe that I am starting to make notable progress in my comprehension and speaking abilities. Of course, from time to time, it's always nice to get a compliment from someone that I speak the language relatively well.

Front left to right: Aline, Aude, Camille; back: me, Eric, Valentin

 Another week has gotten underway. I am officially past the halfway point, which I cannot hardly believe. The time is passing too fast. I started my new internship this morning. I am now working in la Médecine d'Accueil. I met the new medical students and doctors that I will be working with for the next three weeks. They were very friendly to welcome me, and I was able to quickly jump in, and witness an EEG on a patient who was having convulsions. I really anticipate that this new internship will be beneficial for me in order to gain a more holistic picture of the French health care system.

I'm just about to wrap things up,  but before I go I first wanted to add, this evening I went with my host dad to his Bible study with the church. Over the course of the past year, they have been working through an intensive study of the entire Bible. I was there today to listen as pastor Timothé discussed the epistles of Paul, and how they correspond in the context of evangelism, and serving les uns les autres. What a cool experience it was in being able to participate in a study of the Bible in a different language, among a completely different group of people! I think it's just goes to show that there are no limits to God's unending love and grace. I really hope that I can go back to the next Bible study in two weeks.

Before I head off to bed, I wanted to take a second to wish a happy birthday to my real dad. He celebrated 48 years yesterday. I'm very thankful to have you as my dad, and I pray that the next 48 years of your life can be just as much of a blessing to you and all of us. I love you dad.

Les Blouses à Blanches et Les Coups de Soliel

Hey family and friends. I'm just checking in since I've been off the Internet for the last couple of days. I hope you are all doing well as I continue to think of you, and the warm feeling of returning home more and more every day. I cannot believe that another week has come and gone during my time in France. I don't even know where to begin in order to start filling you in so that you may be able to even have a glimpse of all the wonderful things that are happening during my time here in Nice.

I finished my internship in urgent medicine last Friday. Of course, it's only proper in the French culture to throw a party to celebrate, so I made sure to bring in some strawberry and lemon meringue tarts to celebrate. They were délicieux! Even though it went by so quickly, I know that I made some friendships that will last for a lifetime. I haven't yet been able to perform any major tasks in terms of patient care; my day-to-day routine consists mostly of observing the doctor and intern's interaction with the patient and trying to absorb as much information as possible. I've been keeping a journal log (in French of course) that helps document all the things that I witness and pose questions that I might have. I know that for my course, Santé Publique, I will need to present a case study on a patient or a disease that I have followed during my internship. At this point, I am strongly considering presenting bi-polar disorder, as l'Hôpital St. Roch receives many interesting psychiatric cases. I am beginning a new internship tomorrow morning called la Médicine d'Accueil. I will be shadowing a different physician, Pr. Levraut, and a new group of students. My hope is that from working in a different specialty will help give me a better appreciation and more holistic sense of the French medical system.

The urgent medicine medical team of Hôpital St. Roch

Of course, besides swing dancing in the park and practicing a duet in preparation for a talent show at the end of the term, there's been plenty of things to do in this beautiful little place that someone so conveniently named Nice. I had a full conversation with an older gentleman the other day on the way home after classes. Even though it might seem like a minor thing, I definitely count it as a major win, because it proves that I am indeed making progress in my comprehension of the French language and culture. We visited an art museum on Wednesday afternoon after class that featured that art of Henri Matisse. Even though I knew very little of him before the program, I found his art to be quite interesting and vivid. I'd love to include a couple photos or two of the paintings that we got to see, but unfortunately the museum prohibited us from taking pictures. I guess the spray-paint painting that I bought from a street artist for 20 euros will have to do.

We also had a small celebration at the Faculty of Medicine at l'Hôpital Pasteur in recognition of several French medical students that returned from practicing medicine abroad for a two-month period. Some of the places they traveled included Boston, Massachusetts, Hanoï Vietnam, and Burkina Faso. It was really good to hear from other students that had practiced medicine abroad and had had a really good experience. In a way, it certainly reinforced the reason why I am here in France, studying abroad and learning the ins and outs of a completely different system of medicine, while still having one common goal in mind-caring for the patient.

 

Finally, one brief thing to add. My social life here is anything except dull, like the slow rolling tops of the mountains just to the north of me. The other twenty-five students in this program are all absolute gems, and I am confident that when I return home to the States, even though my luggage will weigh relatively the same as when I left, I will be coming home with so much more. I know that some of these people will certainly be lifelong friend. I can potentially see many trips in the future to St. Louis MO, or New Haven CT just to name a few. The majority of us got together to celebrate our friend Katie's twenty-second birthday last Friday evening. We went to a very fancy Italian restaurant right on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. The cost of the food was nearly ridiculous, but I suppose that in many cases, you certainly pay for the view. I wasn't too hungry after eating a large buffet at the Faculty of Medicine, but I certainly didn't hesitate to order a bottle of rosé, costing me 16 euros. Oh well, I guess you've got to jump at the opportunities when they're given to you.

The gang at Di Piu Italian restaurant in celebration of our friend's birthday

Les Réflexions Après une Semaine

I am writing this blog post this evening from the comfort of my host family's living room. The weekend has passed, and I look forward into another week full of internships in the hospital, classes taught at the French University, and spending quality time with my French host family and friends who are also in the program. In fact, this past Saturday marked the one week point since my arrival in France. I cannot believe how fast it has gone by so far. At this point in the program, I have gotten to know most of the other students in the program. I still am in awe of the fact that I'm here with students who go to some pretty prestigious schools such as Yale, Johns Hopkins, and UC-Berkeley just to name a few. Simply remembering that continues to humble me in knowing that this program is a unique, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

At the hospital, I've been able to take a little more responsibility in working with the patients. Each day, I'm allowed to do a little more and more in providing care and learning the medical practice. Today, I was able to listen to the heart and lung sounds, and help a patient with frail legs move around the room. I try my best to ask questions about things I don't fully understand to the doctor or the other medical students who are there. The language barrier still proves to be a little bit of a hindrance at times, but I try my best to listen carefully and learn as much as possible. I will be changing stages later this week to emergency medicine (médicine d'accueil), but my hope is that before then, I will be able to present the patient and their background information to the attending physician.

As far as life outside the classroom and hospital, I haven't seemed to have had any trouble with making friends in the program. This past weekend, we spent a lot of time getting to know each other. It was nice to take a little break from our persistent usage of the French language, and speak English to each other for a while. On Friday night, we opened a few bottles of wine together on the beach and passed them around, while sharing stories about ourselves and our interests. After that, we went over to the distillery in the old part of the town, where I ordered (legally) my first cocktail. We laughed a lot and had fun that night. The next morning, my friend Sarah and I, as well as many others boarded a train for Monaco. Monaco is a sovereign city state that is recognized by many as its own country. It is a very small region and is well-known for being the home of many famous people. Just so you can picture it, I've never seen so many Ferrari's in one place! We spent the day there, eating lunch together, and touring the city streets. There was a beautiful cathedral in the city square that would have certainly put Dimnent Chapel to shame. I'd love to try to describe it to you more, but sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.

 Altar of the Cathedral at Monaco

Yesterday afternoon, after attending church with my host family, we had a picnic on top of a very large hill overlooking the beautiful city of Nice. At church, I made sure to pick up my very first French Bible. I look forward to using it often and wearing down the pages. After the picnic in the beautiful garden of olive trees, we hosted a festival for many children in the area. Over 100 children and their parents showed up and moved around from station to station learning about farm animals and playing fun games. Afterwards, the pastor in the church addressed the children and presented the winning team with an award. He also sought out to promote the church, and help get children excited about going to church. Right there and then, I was witnessing evangelism in its purest sense.

Axel and Gilles (my host brother and dad) returned yesterday afternoon from their vacation in Bretagne. I was able to meet Rémi, Axel's actual brother. He was about 10 years older then me, but for the first time since I arrived, I felt as though I was able to have a long-lasting conversation with a native French speaker and articulate well the things I wanted to say. I know it's only been a week, but I already feel that I am becoming better adapted to the culture and the language. Yesterday evening, I had a real privilege when I was able to present my host family here in France back to my real family back in America over Skype. Since neither of them really spoke the other language very well, I served as the translator during the conversation. As it continues to blow my mind that I'm actually here and fully present, I continue to count my blessings and seek to take absolutely nothing for granted.

Visiting the principality of Monaco on a rainy, spring day.

Left to right: me, Becca, Sierra, Lacey