Ah the French, the *&%$# French. Rated R (L)

This post may appear a little different as I don’t have reliable web service at the moment so when I find it this will be old news but still relevant. I am in Semey, located in the NE area of the country just east of Astana. It is my second visit here. Semey, Kazakh for Semipalatinsk, is the location where the Soviets exploded no less than 500 nuclear weapons. There is a moving memorial to those that were affected by the radiation, which is directly or indirectly all who were alive during the late 40' to the late 70’s and/or their offspring.

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I found this very moving. It was at the base of the monument.

A monument in the same park to
the landscape that was also damaged.

You don't need to guess at the theme of this monument

 

I’m ensconced in the med school dormitory where I have my own pad, cheaper than a hotel and friendlier. I arrived a day late as the snow prevented travel (see last post).

The day after the snow storm I got a panic email from my host here stating that the plane was leaving at 0930 instead of 1300. Since I was already packed from the day before I called a taxi and finished securing the apartment. I figured if someone wants to climb five floors to break in only to find nothing, well, it’s just one more story.

Him: “Hey Mike, are you here?

Me thinking that this guy had to be from the US: “Be right down”

Him: “You aren’t in the *** Hotel are you? (Rather seedy joint near my building).”

Me: “Nope”

Him: “Good”.  I’m starting to like this guy.

It turned out he was Kazakh, figured me for an English speaker and thought he’d try it out on me. Off we went to the airport, with me informing him that I would pay another 500T if we made it there in half an hour. On a Monday morning it is a break even bet.

Him: “How you say…..No sweat?” I am really starting to like this guy.

We are 10 min from the airport and hit an epic traffic jam. All the cars are stopped at a roundabout that is used by no less than 5 roads. He looks disgusted and wonders aloud what could be causing the delay. I see some cars with diplomatic licenses pass on the wrong side of the road and one has a French flag waving. I tell him that the French president is in town for some reason and that all the roads near me have cops on them acting officious if not of any real use.

Him: “The police..” (emphasis on the first syllable), reaches down to his crotch and mimics that time tested male way of taking care of one’s self. I start to laugh and am REALLY liking this guy.

15 minutes pass he asks when the plane leaves and what airline I am flying. I tell him SCAT and in 30 minutes.

Him: “Mike, you worry too much. Everyone knows that SCAT never leaves on time!”

 Now he is getting genuinely angry.

“Those French, they are all fackers! Who do they think they are?” I KNEW I liked this guy. “Fack you, you French! Hey Mike my friend, how do you say in English, you know……female dog?”

Me laughing even now as I write this: “Bitch?”

Him: “That’s it. You are all beeches you French fackers!” He is now officially my long lost brother!

He went on, “You police are all crocked motherfackers and the French will bugger you! You know “bugger” Mike?” By now I have stopped breathing as I am laughing that laugh that just doesn’t let one breath and laugh at once!

Oh dear Lord what a great male bonding experience and a belly aching laugh, and at the expense of the French no less! I gave him a 1000T tip just for the fun. The whole trip, about 25km, was all of $21.97US. Cheap to be sure and what a great story! We made it in time, and he told me to “tell those French that they are all beeches!” I assured him that it would be my pleasure, and made the flight.

I’m being treated with a measure of deference and respect here that is unearned and a touch uncomfortable. I can’t even carry my own groceries. All the faculty have a hard time believing I am staying in a modest dorm, but that is the way I enjoy it. I bought some groceries but have not been able to eat many as I am always being hosted for lunch and dinner. Sometimes there is a huge spread and I sit down with everyone anticipating a meal and conversation and am invited to eat while they watch and talk in Russian, awkward to say the least.

There is a more familiar, what, vibe here than in Almaty. This is a town of 300,000 but there is more laughter. And the students are fantastic. All are attentive, engaging, and firm in their conviction that medicine is their calling. The comparison to KazNMU is both stark and reassuring. We often get into very animated conversations and my host faculty members will apologize. I always say I enjoy it and think that patients ultimately benefit from it.

The blonde woman in the foreground
was the one with the eye roll.

I know there are a lot of these cheesey pics but this
is customary here. 

Today I got an eye roll from a student that you could hear 20m away! She was firm in her belief that Family Medicine was too broad and that we couldn’t know it all. The old “jack of all trades, master of none” BS. I acknowledged that while that was true, it was also true of any specialty. She was upset that as of all of three weeks from now all of the primary care docs will be seeing all ages and both genders and as she did so teared up. I gently reassured her that there hasn’t been a day since I entered medical school back the dark ages that I haven’t been scared. Knowing what you don’t know is a good thing. Then challenged her and her class to meet me out of the classroom to discuss their fears and discuss clinical medicine. We’ll see.