(no subject)
I have to reiterate a conversation between my dad and I at the drive-through at McDonalds the other day.
Me: All of the Cuban doctors that I worked with were sent by their government. They all seemed to really like Fidel Castro. I'm not a huge fan, but I definitely like him more than our current pres...
[This is dad's cue to burst into a long tirade about how before Castro, Cuba was led by the mafia and thugs, and at least Castro brought education to the people...and finally...]
Dad: ...so really, which would you prefer: a plain prostitute or a prostitute with education?
Me: [Only half listening, scanning the menu] Actually...I think I just want a salad.
Oh, my life! I love my family even though they are crazier than your average folks. We eat so much more fast food than anyone ever should...my parents are especially terrible about that.
I'm only permitted to work part-time for the next week or so, as the doctor decided yesterday. I liked her more than most of the doctors that I had to see in the hospital. She already knew about my case because it was "interesting" and the talk of the whole branch while I was at the hospital. Heck, there is even a powerpoint presentation that was shown at a huge medical conference in Baltimore and New York about my case (though my name is never actually stated). It's not a good thing to be interesting at a hospital, as I learned... But this doctor works regularly in Mali, and was really glad to know that I want to go back to Niger someday. She said that out of the 28 times that she traveled to Mali, she has been sick 27 of them. That's not very encouraging, but I'm going back. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe the end of next year. And I surely plan on adopting children from Niger when the time comes.
My first day of work went really well, better than I would have expected. I spent the day writing letters to art stores in Baltimore to get donations for our upcoming refugee art exhibition. I'm a strong believer in the value of art therapy. Also, refugee artwork often gets a lot of attention from lawmakers, as I noticed with many delegates that I came to know in the Maryland General Assembly. I also wrote letters to private schools asking for art supplies...it's amazing how many "Our Lady of ________" schools there are in Maryland alone. At least twenty.
There are two other interns, Susanah and Ryan, and they seem to be very pleasant to work with. My boss, Ann, has been beaten down by bureacracy a lot and gets too cynical for my taste at times, but we get along well. I'm going to start spending 5-6 days a week with a client in great need of companionship and assistance, who just arrived in the United States this Tuesday. I have not yet been told this refugee's origins or if he/she has a family in America, and I am anxiously awaiting these details.
After many busy days of not seeing each other, Drew is coming over. I miss that boy...
Me: All of the Cuban doctors that I worked with were sent by their government. They all seemed to really like Fidel Castro. I'm not a huge fan, but I definitely like him more than our current pres...
[This is dad's cue to burst into a long tirade about how before Castro, Cuba was led by the mafia and thugs, and at least Castro brought education to the people...and finally...]
Dad: ...so really, which would you prefer: a plain prostitute or a prostitute with education?
Me: [Only half listening, scanning the menu] Actually...I think I just want a salad.
Oh, my life! I love my family even though they are crazier than your average folks. We eat so much more fast food than anyone ever should...my parents are especially terrible about that.
I'm only permitted to work part-time for the next week or so, as the doctor decided yesterday. I liked her more than most of the doctors that I had to see in the hospital. She already knew about my case because it was "interesting" and the talk of the whole branch while I was at the hospital. Heck, there is even a powerpoint presentation that was shown at a huge medical conference in Baltimore and New York about my case (though my name is never actually stated). It's not a good thing to be interesting at a hospital, as I learned... But this doctor works regularly in Mali, and was really glad to know that I want to go back to Niger someday. She said that out of the 28 times that she traveled to Mali, she has been sick 27 of them. That's not very encouraging, but I'm going back. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe the end of next year. And I surely plan on adopting children from Niger when the time comes.
My first day of work went really well, better than I would have expected. I spent the day writing letters to art stores in Baltimore to get donations for our upcoming refugee art exhibition. I'm a strong believer in the value of art therapy. Also, refugee artwork often gets a lot of attention from lawmakers, as I noticed with many delegates that I came to know in the Maryland General Assembly. I also wrote letters to private schools asking for art supplies...it's amazing how many "Our Lady of ________" schools there are in Maryland alone. At least twenty.
There are two other interns, Susanah and Ryan, and they seem to be very pleasant to work with. My boss, Ann, has been beaten down by bureacracy a lot and gets too cynical for my taste at times, but we get along well. I'm going to start spending 5-6 days a week with a client in great need of companionship and assistance, who just arrived in the United States this Tuesday. I have not yet been told this refugee's origins or if he/she has a family in America, and I am anxiously awaiting these details.
After many busy days of not seeing each other, Drew is coming over. I miss that boy...