Last weekend, I woke up on a beach. Despite it being only 6 am and having wind-tangled hair and a mouth full of sand, it was magnificent. It’s a constant struggle to find a balance between fun and learning, to fight the nagging voice telling me to stay cooped up studying while also trying to squeeze in time to get my suntan/burn on while sitting, eating, dancing, swimming (and competitively winning at card games) amongst friends and Israelis at sunset on the Mediterranean. We are living in this beautiful country, after all, and when the opportunity arises to go camping on a beach or diving off a cliff or snorkeling in the Red Sea, we must seize it (YOLO, amiright?). So, we packed our things and headed to Beit Yanai, a beach 30 minutes north of Tel Aviv, and did just that. It was a glorious way to cap off the weekend after an equally satisfying visit to Tel Aviv.
As part of our first year Global Health course, we have been split up into pairs and assigned various clinical placements that we will visit 4-5 times over the semester. My partner and I have been placed at the refugee health clinic at Tel Aviv’s “new” (emphasis on the quotes…) central bus station, a hub for refugees from Sudan and Eritrea primarily. The clinic is a fascinating place, literally tucked between two bus stops in the center of the crumbling station, a respite for many that sees everything from minor burns and lacerations to pregnancies and rare infectious diseases. On our visit to the ER, we heard at least four different languages being spoken and saw babies and young women and middle-aged men being treated. All had stories to tell or physical markings that told their stories for them, of how they escaped war-torn countries and suffered through excruciating journeys and torture camps in Sinai before finding some sort of temporary respite here. For many of us, moving to a new country and learning a new language and culture has felt impossibly trying, but visiting a place like the clinic managed somehow to put everything into perspective.
Soon, we’ll be paying a visit to Hadassah Hospital, so I guess you could say “next week in Jerusalem”....
-blogger of the month, Aviva Friedman
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