A week of firsts and twenty-firsts.

Not much has happened in the past week or so, but here are some choice firsts that are worth sharing. For the most part, all of these firsts involve fun with my friends and my newly-acquired ability to purchase and drink alcohol in the United States, since I finally turned twenty-one about a month ago.

1) Chicken Enchiladas & Margaritas at Los Loros
As the recent reviewers state, "If you need a strong drink in a laid-back atmosphere, Los Loros is a top place to go... The food is cheap and who can complain about $2.50 margaritas (m-w) that knock you off your feet." That was exactly the experience I had... and I think it'll suffice to say that a margarita is not (and never will be) my alcoholic beverage of choice.

Usher at Emory!

2) Usher & Usher's New Look!
Usher, the media mogul and entertainer that Atlanta has claimed as its own talent (even though he's originally from Dallas and grew up in Chattanooga), made a guest appearance on Emory's campus last week. He was here on the behalf of his camp, New Look, which is one of dozens of camps and conferences being held on Emory's campus for part of this summer. Usher's New Look is essentially a non-profit, charity campaign that aids youth and teaches them to harness their talents in sports and entertainment so they can change their community in a socially- and financially-beneficial way. Last year, the camp participants learned about the fundamentals of entrepreneurship and launched a fragrance with the help of experts in the industry. Interestingly enough, it's the alcohol content in cologne that actually makes it so refreshing on your skin.

The Moe's & Joe's Logo

3) Bar-hopping in the Virginia Highlands
After devouring two delicious chocolate-frosted marshmallow brownies (click on the link for the recipe!), my friends and I headed out to the Virginia Highlands this past Tuesday night, to celebrate a close friend's twenty-first birthday. On Tuesdays, Moe's and Joe's serves up $3.25 pitchers of PBR (Pabst Blue Ribbon) beer, and, like the rest of the twenty-somethings there, we joined in the debauchery and bought a pitcher to share amongst our group of five. Afterwards, we escaped the claustrophobic crowds and relaxed at a more quiet table at Fontaine's across the street.

Not surprisingly, we ran into a lot of current Emory students and recent alums at Moe's and Joe's; but, out of sheer and more unexpected coincidence, we also met a girl who works in the genetics department at Emory, in a lab right next door to one of my friends. We ended up conversing about research and medicine and professional aspirations - funny how all of that catches up to you, whether you're sitting in class on a college campus or at celebrating over drinks at a local bar. Sometimes, even alcohol can't succeed in helping you escape the sobering realities of life after college.

Reverse cultural shock.

Five or so weeks in Paris can completely change your outlook on life in the States - like I wrote once before, the real cultural shock hits after you get home from a foreign country. The following are observations in point:

Paris is a city where...
... people spend more hours on the important things in life: eating and enjoying their meals with friends, relaxing in parks and at neighborhood cafés, and walking instead of driving to purchase warm baguettes and pains au chocolat that are baked fresh daily from the local boulangerie.

Atlanta is a city where...
... people waste a lot of hours on unimportant things and then rush through the rest of life: speeding through the drive-thru of fast-food establishments, grabbing artificially-sweet-calorie-filled custard danishes and cups of coffee to go, and then sitting in traffic while commuting to work in their cars.

Paris is a city where...
... if you're a woman and you exist, men hit on you on every street corner, metro stop, café, store front, etc., etc... and sometimes keep following you for blocks, until they get a chance to hit on you.

Atlanta is a city where...
...if you're a woman and you dress provocatively in public, men glance over but don't say anything at all, because saying something remotely offensive might constitute a sexual harassment lawsuit.

The three things that I miss most about Paris:

The métro

Despite its initially claustrophobic-inducing qualities, its lack of air conditioning, and its gritty-watch-where-you're-sitting atmosphere, it's an unbelievably efficient and all-around relaxing commute once you get the hang of things. Even at its most crowded, sardine-packed times, you get the sense that you're only truly Parisian if you can handle the everyday idiosyncrasies of the métro to navigate your way through the city.

The food

Simply put, it's fresh, it's French, and it's fantastic. Every meal I had seemed like the best meal I'd ever had - above is a picture of the amazing four-cheese pasta we had at a restaurant that we stumbled upon during our escapades in Montmartre.

The weather

Compared to the sweltering summer heat and humidity of Atlanta, summer in Paris was a haven of temperate afternoons and relatively cool evenings. Although the weather patterns were somewhat unpredictable and the rainstorms were often unexpected, at least the sun never burnt you to a crisp the moment you walked outside.

Paris isn't perpetually perfect, and Atlanta isn't absolutely abominable, but it'll just take awhile longer for me to really adjust to being back. Though, I think my Parisian perspectives on most of the aforementioned things will always influence my decisions here in the States.


In other miscellaneous news, Dr. Pauline Chen's latest article in the NY Times ("When Doctors Make Mistakes") propelled me to start researching public health practicums that focus on physician-in-training and patient outcomes. I remember reading her book, Final Exam, when it first came out about two years ago - it was incredibly honest and well-written, and I definitely recommend it to anyone who's considering medical school or any reader who just wants to better understand patient care from the physician perspective.

10 years or so.*

Tonight, I was scheduled for a desk shift from 10 pm to midnight - basically, sitting in an office and answering the phone, if it happens to ring. So far, not much has happened, outside of one or two pizza deliveries and a lot of small talk about logging onto the internet, delayed flights, and dinner plans. But, every now and then, my soundscape has consisted of snippets of discussions that seem like windows to my future, if I were to become a clinician, that is. It's odd how your professional aspirations can catch up to you in the places you least expect.







I did a little research, and, apparently, the group of physicians in the lobby have come here from around the country for an event on "Therapeutic Targets in CMD". For the less clinically-inclined, CMD stands for Congenital Muscular Dystrophies - they're basically a group of muscle disorders that strike early in development and cause generalized muscle weakness, among other symptoms. You might have heard the phrase on television before, since Jerry Lewis is the national spokesperson for the organization that raises money for CMD. The underlying cause of disease is a genetic mutation, so rest assured that you probably don't have a CMD if you weren't diagnosed with it at birth.

Emory Commencement photo from Emory Alumni Association albums

Summer's a little more than half-over, and most of my friends, all recent college graduates, are poised to start their first year of medical school or graduate school in different cities around the United States. A few others are about to dive into the intimidating field of entry-level business internships or philanthropic teaching positions like Teach for America, both of which pay modest salaries but offer the possibility of life-changing professional experiences.

I wonder where everyone will end up in a decade or so - it would be ironic if I ended up at a conference like Cure CMD, especially since pediatric rehabilitation is the specialty that I've always been interested in pursuing.

*10 years is an alternative rock band from Tennessee that released a digital bundle of their music about a month ago. I haven't had a chance to hear all their songs, but a few of them, especially their singles "Beautiful" and "Wasteland", are pretty good.

America, India, and everything in between.

I was inspired to update my blog after reading a recent NY Times article, "Farewell to an India I Hardly Knew", by Anand Giridharadas.

Calcutta, India

About two years ago, as part of an application for a part-time college job, I had to write a short essay describing my experiences with issues of diversity and my perspective with respect to cultural differences. Giridharadas' article reminded me a lot of that essay, because I talked about how I had grown up "feeling as if I was in a sort of cultural limbo - a foreigner living in America but an American when I visited India" and how, "in a way, this constant sense of cultural indecision is simply a negative consequence of the territory; my parents once explained it best when they said that they knew they would have to sacrifice some of the richness of their own traditions and conservative culture in order to fully take advantage of the opportunities and independence that American life had to offer."

But the interesting thing about the NY Times article is that it left me questioning whether what I'd written was actually true. It gave me the notion that you can have both, that you can retain your cultural heritage and your nationalistic pride and still be progressive in redefining your sense of self.

Contrary to popular belief, then, you don't have to completely turn your back on all the people you came from to become the one person you've always wanted to be. It seems obvious in retrospect, but if you can find a way to help yourself, without leaving everyone else behind, then maybe your present individual successes will turn into a future collective benefit for others.

Here's to turning that notion into some kind of positive action, regardless of what I end up doing after graduate school.

Fin.

La dernière semaine/The last week:

I meant to post updates on my last week awhile ago, but I got miserably sick as soon as I returned to the States - hence, here's the entry about my 5th and last week in Paris, finally, two weeks after the fact.

Some major highlights from the week include sitting on the sidewalk of Rue des Rosiers and eating "The World's Best Falafel" from Chez Hanna on Tuesday afternoon and celebrating the last day of neuroscience classes by having my last Parisian gelato (stratiacella et mangue) and then shopping for French books, presents, and clothes to take advantage of all the discounts during the Soldes (insane sales and bargains that all the stores throughout France have during a select period of the summer) on Thursday. Our entire group had a pretty fancy farewell dinner that same night, at Café Viaduc, where I indulged in my first burger made of foie gras and my last mousse au chocolat. Afterwards, a few of us spent one last night outside of our dorms at Cité Universitaire, laying in the grass and staring at the night sky, before getting busted by campus security for having alcohol on campus and lamenting the death of Michael Jackson - some things never change, whether you're in the Atlanta, Georgia or in Paris, France.

I spent Friday resting up for Saturday (Solidays concerts!) and finishing off the last things on my to-do list for Paris: finally finding a French version of the Unbearable Lightness of Being (La légèreté insupportable de l'être), spending hours reading the book and sipping the best and most authentic chocolat chaud in Paris (a sinfully rich, dark chocolate concoction with heaps of fresh whipped cream, known as "L'Africain") with my brunch omelette at the famed Café Angelina, and then relaxing at the Jardin du Luxembourg before having one last crêpe dinner at Rouge Pomme. If you click on the link for "L'Africain", you'll find a post about Café Angelina's hot chocolate, as well as the recipe for the drink, compliments of an Australian blogger who can actually be followed on Technorati!

Solidays concert program design

I won't go into too much detail about my experiences at Solidays on Saturday, but I think it'll suffice to say that I've never been surrounded by so much energy - the crowds (think Bonnaroo, but with even less regulations and thousands of Europeans), the musicians (5 stages of concerts at this immense camping festival venue in Parc Boulogne of Paris), and the cause (Solidarité for SIDA/AIDS awareness) definitely created an amazingly memorable atmosphere and a fantastic finish to my time in Paris. I didn't last long enough to hear Girl Talk perform at 4:30 a.m. the next morning, but Stephanie Mckay and La Phaze are just two of probably a dozen or so incredibly entertaining talents that I heard during my eventful afternoon/evening at Solidays.

A few of us in front of Fontaine St. Michel (at the beginning of the trip)

After reconvening with a few friends at the St. Michel fountain (ending the trip like it began) and being entertained by street performers/break dancers there, I had my last cup of Parisian chocolat chaud at a small café, right after midnight, and took the last métro back to Cité.

I don't have any brilliant phrases to succinctly sum up the time I spent in Paris, and I can't even begin to find the words to name all the things I loved and will miss now that I've left. What I do know is that I had an absolutely amazing five weeks in France and I'll definitely be going back again some time in the near future, maybe for a public health internship next summer or a graduate semester abroad. I miss Chipotle burritos, barbecue ribs with hot sauce (e.g., Fat Matt's), and Bruster's ice cream sundaes, among all the other random foods and food-related memories with friends that make America so awesome, and it'll be good to get back to those things once I recover from being sick. Happy 4th of July, everyone!