"Back in Beer Sheva," by MSIH first year blogger Tamara Kliot

Coming back from break is always a transition. It takes time to get back into the study grove, let alone get yourself back on the right sleep schedule. Jet lag is rough and a constant battle between when you should and could go to sleep. Balancing that battle alone with the introduction of new classes can be a challenge, but that’s part of the package when you decide to go to medical school in a time zone 10 hours ahead of home or decide to create a home 10 hours ahead of where you grew up. However you see it, time zones are hard to traverse. I guess that’s something most of us interested in global health will grapple with for the rest of our careers.

Luckily, we had some engaging lectures to start off the semester. We had your typical physiology, pharmacology, and genetics classes. However, we also had the opportunity to participate in a Mind and Body 3-day elective facilitated by Dr. Haramati. This elective was focused on self-care practices, such as meditation, and could not have come at a better time.

Medicine is an intense profession that requires a lot of time and effort invested in learning and even more on other people’s problems. It’s stressful and overwhelming at times. Doctors are known to be the worse patients and it’s a widely held belief that they don’t always take care of themselves properly. This elective was a good reminder of this and introduced or re-introduced students to practices that they can integrate into their schedules.  Mind and Body also allowed students to connect with each other in a different space (more literally than physically because we were in our normal classroom). It forced many students out of their comfort zone, but the result was empowerment.

With week one done, jet lag almost beat, and the opportunity to hear about the fun things my classmates did over their 10-day break, I can honestly say I am excited to be back in the B7 and ready for what this semester has to offer. New classes, modules (I’m especially excited for nutrition and disaster relief), global health speakers, experiences, and adventures to come. There is also a lot of familiar things that will make this semester easier than last. We’ve come a long way class of 2019 and I am excited to see where we go and the opportunities we find to push our own development as future doctors in the next couple months.

Taking time to enjoy the sights, and the cats, amidst the crunch of finals, by Blogger of the month Maia Reiley

That dazed feeling of being nearly done with 11 months of what you always wanted to do…

We have one more week of class before our final final, and I know that the collective sigh of relief our whole class breathes will be tempered, at least from my corner, by a tinge of sadness. I will be grateful not only that it will be over, but also that it will have happened.

Back to the present moment, though. It is springtime in Beer Sheva (well, high summer by any normal person's thermometer), and there are a thousand kittens to mark the season. Leaving the hospital, going to the SuperSal or the vegetable stand, I will infallibly be surprised by some tiny cats making tentative steps from under a ramp or behind a railing. This type of unsolicited cuteness exponentially increases the amount of time I spend running errands.

Here is an example:

In other news, we took a trip North and saw some very pretty sights, including the Baha'i gardens in Haifa and the ruins of Caesarea. Although I love living in Beer Sheva and the unique perspectives it offers, seeing a beautiful city on a hill overlooking the ocean reminds me that I eventually want to move back near the water.

As an illustration of why, here's a throwback picture from Passover. We took a few buses down to Dahab on the Sinai coast to learn to scuba dive. The Sinai is basically a barren wasteland, in which I wouldn't want to wander for 40 minutes, let alone 40 years, but the Red Sea is a miraculous paradise full of beautiful life forms. As this year wraps up, I am already looking forward to returning to the Sinai and planning new adventures in this amazing part of the world.

But for now, back to the coagulation cascade.

Global Health Clinical Session and Umm Batin, by Sam Nesemann

Last week we had our weekly clinical class (pictures attached).  It’s about three hours or so of observing/interviewing patients every Wednesday morning.  This time it was during a sandstorm, which, if you come here, I’m sure you’ll get to experience for yourself.  We started off meeting a Bedouin man who told us about some of the Bedouin’s cultural history.  Then we headed to the local school to talk with the principle about education in the community and the superintendent happened to be there and joined us as well.  Later we were able to sit with a woman who used to work at a local clinic before her funding was cut.  She explained the difficulties imposed on her in regard to providing care now.  We asked things like, “can you go to the people’s houses or have them come to yours to at least educate them?”- something that would seem perfectly acceptable back home.  Unfortunately, in her community, this would be considered very inappropriate and isn’t an option for her.  These clinical sessions are all so different and all really valuable.

On a second note, there are also some pictures from our trip with the kids from Umm Batin.  Umm Batin is a small town about 20 minutes from Beer Sheva.  A few of us go there each week to teach english to the Bedouin children who are fantastic.  They are funny, smart, and we have a lot of fun teaching and playing soccer.  We took a trip up to Superland (a small theme park) this past week that they were all really excited for.  

Unfortunately because of rain the previous day, the park was closed once we got there.  Instead of being disappointed, they were totally unaffected. It was really impressive to me, thinking to myself that the teenage me would have probably complained quite a bit about the situation.  We’ll be heading there again one of these weekends though and I’m sure it’ll be a good time.  - Sam Nesemann, blogger of the month

Second Semester musings, by Sam Nesemann, blogger of the month

Sam, Justine and Chase at the Physician's Oath ceremony

These first few weeks of the second semester have moved incredibly fast.  The classes keep us (or at least me) much busier.  This place is amazing though.  It’s already getting warmer.  The winter itself only lasted about 2 months and was extremely mild (nothing like what we would have back home in Wisconsin.)  

Because of the previous cold weather and the higher amount of classwork (just finished a global health module on nutrition that I highly recommend to any future students), there’s not too many extracurricular things to comment on right how.  However, this coming week a good amount of first-years are heading to Budapest, the second years are putting on a second annual talent show, and there will hopefully be some hiking or camping in the South.  

We did get to go to Umm Batin again today.  Umm Batin is a town about 20 minutes outside of Beer Sheva that has a mostly, if not completely, Bedouin population.  We go there once a week to teach English and it is an absolute blast.  The kids are great, some are very very smart, and, for the most part, very well behaved.  We teach for about an hour and a half and then play soccer, basketball, or whatever is happening that day.  The kids love it and it’s a really good opportunity for them, especially those who wish to go to college in Israel or the States.  

This is my first blog, so I’m still figuring out what to write about/how to write it.  I think this is mainly for the benefit of prospective students. So, I’d like to say a few things to you if you are reading this as someone looking into MSIH.  A lot of people asked me why I wanted to come here before I left, and they asked in a tone of concerned incredulity.  The question was often followed by something like, “you know there’s a medical school 2 hours away right?”or something about how dangerous this area of the world is.  There have been several occasions after arriving here that I have been taken aback by the sensation that there is no other place in the world I would rather be.  I’m sure it’s not for everyone, but I can’t think of any other school I would rather be at MSIH

- Sam Nesemann, blogger of the month

"Why is this August different from all other Augusts?" by blogger of the month Aviva Friedman

I was going to start this blog post with a pun about rockets, but, when google failed me and that plan imploded (har har), I decided instead to write an ode to the craziness of this past August. A slow start to the school year meant that, while our friends across the ocean were tucking into neatly pressed white coats and embarking on their first few weeks of medical school, we were holed up in classrooms doubling as shelters (not to mention meeting the neighbours in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a towel…), cramming 5 weeks’ worth of Emergency Medicine and Hebrew lessons into 5 days while sirens occasionally blared in the background to remind us of the current state of affairs. It also meant an ensuing scramble to set up apartments and phone lines as things began to settle, exposing us to the balagan of Israeli culture, starting at the grocery store, where we stood in something that sort of resembled a line, wondering whether we were actually buying yogurt or sour cream and if we would make it to the bank in time before it closed at 1:30 for a four-hour long mid-day siesta. 

But despite the war-time hoopla, we finished orientation. Most of us moved in to new apartments, began kindling friendships, and spent our first gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free shabbat together as a first-year family. We made friends with the local cats and danced salsa (taught by Israelis?!). We conversed in broken Hebrew to our cab drivers and landlords, and experienced a night out a dance club where we were the only ones dancing. We explored Be’er Sheva’s Little India and ate “authentic Chinese food” in the middle of the desert. We sat through our first week of Histology and Immunology, Biochemistry and Global Health (oh my!), then built bridges over pizza with our Israeli equivalents in the Hebrew medical school. And of course, who could forget Hebrew, where we served each other falafels in the Beginner class and, if somehow like me, you ended up in the Advanced class, we were already having discussions (IN HEBREW!) about AIDS and overmedicating our children and the ethical implications of posthumously utilizing someone’s gametes to produce a grandchild. In Hebrew. Yep.

Medical school in Be’er Sheva is anything but traditional. We are adjusting to a new language, a loud - but exciting! - culture, and life in what is essentially a convection oven. Thankfully, the sirens have ceased to blare, replaced instead by the shrill voices of Israelis on their cellphones and the cries of stray cats trapped within the halls of our school. Our fears have now shifted from dodging rocket fire to the seemingly impossible task of juggling nine classes and finishing up our homework before a dynamite (see what I did there?) camping trip this weekend in Tel Aviv, because as any Israeli would tell you, life carries on…. 

Updates to come!

- Aviva Friedman, blogger of the month

The Best Story, by Sara Teichholtz

 “Can I hold the baby all through the review session?”

“Sure.”  “...you'll be here if something goes wrong though, right?”

I've been putting perhaps an inappropriate amount of pressure on myself regarding my retirement blog post. How to best convey how much I adore MSIH? How to share all the things that make this program special? I'd been looking for a good story to share—the best story, in fact, until I saw a TED talk by Brandon Stanton, creator of Humans of New York. In short, he discusses how our interests influence what the media reports. Our news becomes weighted with extremes over representative reporting because we like a good story.

This should have made me realize that as a member of the media (as partaking in Blogger of the Month fully entails), I should be focusing on writing the best representation of medical school rather than actively seeking out the best story about medical school. Instead, it inspired me to copy Humans of New York and create: Humans of MSIH!

It turns out that being the HONY guy is really hard work. I thought it would be super easy: iPhone camera and I would snap some photos, hear some great quotations, and make a great post. Plus, I could [and definitely did] cheat because I got to bug people for a week to give me a good quote. It turns out my HONY technique (“smile and now give me a Humans of MSIH quote!”) just produced a lot of deer-in-the-headlights looks and speechless peers. The best quotes were those that I wasn't looking for, that just came in the spur of the moment. In the end, I'm not sure if I learned from Brandon Stanton's lesson or proved it wrong, because in this case, the moments I wasn't looking for made the best stories.

With that, here is Humans of MSIH:

“Tell me something happy!”

“Uh...”

“Your sister just got engaged!”

“My sister just got engaged!”

Today in microfashion.*

“I just broke people's hearts by telling them who won the playoff game.”

“Do I have hat hair? I wore my winter hat here.”

“A beard like this doesn't just grow overnight. It's much easier than that. It grows over-night and over-day. It's just a matter of laziness.”

“I could really use a nap.”

“What advice would you give to a very large group of people?”

“Follow your heart!”

 What did you learn today in epidemiology?”

“Stay away from maps.”

“Maps?”

“I said RATS.”

 Today in [anatomy] fashion.

“What was the best part of your day?”

“I found this balloon.”

“What advice would you give to a very large group of people?”

“How you feel is shaped more by how you respond to the challenges in your life.”

“Wow. That's really insightful. Can you just like, look really pensive for a sec?”

“Can I be part of the talent show?”

“Sure. And if you don't have a talent, you could always carve a decorative swan from an apple on stage.”

Pause.

“That's going to be my quote, isn't it?”

 "Can I take a picture of you for our school blog?”

“Why?”

“You're famous! We all see you every day. You're the best part of the morning!”

“I know.”

--as we were walking away---

“Have a WONderful DAY!”

In the words of our favorite security guard, have a wonderful day!

*Credit to Katie for creating (and photographing) this incredible masterpiece, to Judson for modeling it, and to Nathan for allowing me to post it.  - blogger of the month, Sara Teichholtz

My New Normal, by Sara Teichholtz

As a transfer, a question I get asked a lot is how my two medical school experiences have differed.  In a recent e-mail to a friend, I responded that my life is both exactly the same as and entirely different from last year. Medical school, for the most part, has a lot of elements that are universal. I'm still studying all the time out of the same textbooks to learn the same material. (That aspect of my life may never change, Goljan). At the same time, the past six months have completely redefined my idea of normal life outside of school. Tiny errands like shopping for groceries or mailing a package are now epic adventurous and provide daily opportunities for exhilarating victory or humbling defeat. They also provide a great source of bonding—there is no truer connection than that between those who have experienced the checkout line at SuperSal. In short, I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

Here are some examples of our new normal:

1.                  Sunday is Monday. The week here is shifted due to Shabbat, so Friday and Saturday are off while Sunday begins the work week. We can no longer have a case of the Mondays because Monday is already Tuesday.

2.                  Every Saturday is Christmas, except for Christmas.  Israel shuts down on Shabbat entirely—there's no public transit and most shops are closed. The closest thing that resembles Shabbat in America is Christmas day. Which itself is just like a normal day here.

3.                  The cats. While Florida had a roach problem, Beer Sheva has a cat problem. As far as infestations go, I would argue that ours is definitely cuter than most. Where else can you take a picture like this at a hospital?

[Insert cat ear picture] Spot the cat!

4.                  Kosher laws. Most restaurants and many homes here keep Kosher. Now that I'm used to this, it's a complete novelty to come across bacon or meat and milk together. I will admit that there is a marshmallow shaped hole in my heart.

5.                  The diet. I've gone from worshipping greens to believing that salad base is nothing but cucumber and tomato. My problem is no longer finding somewhere with dried ginger but having to choose between all the places that sell dried ginger.  Falafel has replaced hamburgers as fast food, and I am already mourning the day that I must leave this land of fresh pita and challah.

6.                  The lingo. A year ago, I would not have been able to understand a sentence such as, “Yalla chaverim, oolai we will brave the balagan at the Karnaf to get toastim.” In the same vein, I'm now very comfortable with not understanding a lot of what is being said around me, except if the discussion involves a chest x ray or appendicitis. Whenever we hear English being spoken, it makes our heads turn.

7.                  The math. Living in a country with a new time zone, a new currency, and a new system of measurement means doing a bit of math--automatically dividing shekels by 3.5, subtracting 7 for EST, and multiplying the temperature by 9/5 and adding 32 giving up completely trying to understand Celsius.

With that, I'm back to the experience that will never change: studying!  - blogger of the month Sara Teichholtz

A Day Twice Reflected, by blogger of the month Elon Richman

Today was long.

I woke up at 7:30 am to attend three and a half hours of intensive Hebrew language where our teacher drills us and drills us with verb conjugations and nouns. Its a steady barrage of “what the are you saying” and “will I ever really be able to have a conversation with someone in this bizarre language without sounding like a child.”

After a short lunch, I am warmly greeted by five hours of “this is how you treat the absolute worst case scenario that ever could possibly happen to a human being” and a repetitive series of mouth to mouth resuscitation with age old alcohol wiped plastic dolls.

When I think about the work that awaits me over the next four years of medical school, I begin to tremble.

I’m walking home from yet another ten-hour day and look up at a fiery bright orange sky remembering that momma said there’d be days like this. Days of stress and uncertainty. Days when I didn’t wake up on the right side of the bed or I’m just having trouble seeing the big picture.

So I think I’ll try today again.

I wake up to a cool morning. The light is shining gently on yet another peaceful Be’er Sheva dawn as the city churns and people leave for work. I sip green tea, eat fresh bread and look off my balcony at the doors of Soroka who readily await my arrival.

On my way in, I take a detour towards Coffee Time where the barista knows me and doesn’t need to ask my order. We smile and greet each other with a cheerful boker tov and I’m off with my warm coffee. That first cup of muddy black Turkish brew hits my lips and blesses me with the gift of God’s strength and energy.

I’m ready.

It’s now Ulpan time and Nava, our charismatic and oddly humorous teacher, gives us the tools to describe our world around us (both in the streets and behind hospital doors).  I notice my language progress from the last few weeks and smile at the entirely wide and new array of people I can communicate with because of this tongue.

During lunch I talk with my classmates and we laugh over food and more coffee. Conversations vary and I’m thankful to rest my mind for an hour and change before going to the next series of lessons. As we walk to Emergency Medicine at around 1 o’clock, it’s hot, but my body thanks me for the warmth after being inside for so long.

We arrive. It’s time to start pumping adrenaline as information is hurdled at us and we’re encouraged to think on our toes.

“Head trauma? Infant Foreign Body Obstructions? Safety first!”

I arm myself with knowledge. What pleasure it is to feel readiness and confidence as I imagine jumping at the chance of aiding those in distress. Bring it on.

6:00 rolls around and I’m off school. I swing by the pool and lunge head first into the engulfing waters. The intensity of my workouts keeps me alive, pulling at the water and pushing the limits of my body slightly further every time. I sense the resistance against me as I glide through. Even better is the clear mind and feeling of euphoria after a full hour of intense swimming. It’s like meditation, concentrating so fiercely on my activity until the release, when tension is put to rest.

I’m walking home now against a fantastically beautiful Be’er Sheva sunset. I smell the plants. I touch things. I feel my feet steadily kiss the sidewalk as I walk home with a clear mind.

I reflect on my accomplishments from today and excite my nerves with tomorrow’s prospects. What new Hebrew words will I learn? What new restaurant should I try?

I think about this weekend. What will I do? Who will I see? What new place can I discover?

There are so many ways we can view our day to day lives in medical school. It can be a stressful rush of chores and appointments, or a beautiful array of sensation and life. It’s easy to lose sight of why we’re here.

My advice? Smell more plants, touch more things, talk to more people. When you find your balance starting to sway in the wrong direction, take notice and readjust. Bring everything back to the present time.

Don’t dissolve the day’s powder in a glass and drink. Instead, let her breathe. Smell the essence, taste the bitter and sweet, and live forever in the infinitesimal granules of every moment.

The late Israeli comedian Talia Shapira once said wisely:

.התחילה כבר החיים ,לב שמת לא אם

If you haven’t noticed, life has already begun.  -Elon Richman, August blogger of the month

On Hitting One's Stride, by blogger of the month Seth Morrison

The shuk in Beer-sheva

Once upon a midnight dreary,

while I pondered why I moved to a foreign country,

a strange sensation struck my psyche.

Was it elation, bliss, or gladness?

Lamentation, grief, or sadness?

None of these it was,

though for them many an instance gave just cause;

Instead the passion rubbed the middle,

defied assurance, like a riddle.

My heart had gathered all peaks and vales under its tent,

at long last found contentment.

This describes my recent progression through a set of phases people often experience after moving to an unfamiliar and less comfortable place than wherever it was they came from. Although the individual durations of each vary, it is said that one progresses through four phases in total:

1) the honeymoon phase,

2) the resistance phase,

3) the understanding phase,

4) the assimilation phase.

The honeymoon  period occurs when you first begin living in your new environs. The differences in culture and surroundings are still novel and intriguing. Every day is sweetened by new experiences and relationships.

When the honeymoon period wears off, the resistance phase sets in. This is when the question “What on earth am I doing here” is a perpetual elephant in the room. Small, relatively trivial trials and tribulations of daily life compound to appear as a massive, unsolvable problem. Second-guessing the decision to uproot and move increases in daily frequency, just as reversing that decision is decreasing in feasibility. My resistance phase hit its final climax last week, when our class of 2016 was taking final exams and simultaneously a four-day rainstorm hit Beer Sheva and all of Israel. I usually enjoy rain after having lived in Washington state, but Beer Sheva has a peculiar phenomenon some students have been calling “mudstorms.” This is what happens when rainfall and the fine Negev desert sand blown up by the wind mix in the air to create a clay-like mud vapor that tinges the horizon brown and coats any object that stands in its path, as though the desert wind god had taken up abstract expressionist painting. Consequently, the mental trauma of test-taking and dreary weather blended to produce a potent concoction of gloom that made me ask that question above a few times more than was comfortable.

This week, as I wrote about in my January 14^thpiece, the final exams were a thing of memory, a fleck of dust in my rearview (provided I passed them all, some scores still pending). It was during this week that I had my midnight insight, realizing that I had passed on into the understanding phase, and thus had gained some contentment to moderate the initial highs and subsequent lows of the preceding months. It was a week of reconnections with friends, such as an evening dinner and conversation stretching late into the night. It was a week of re-enculturation, such as spending a morning shopping for produce with the locals in the shuk (market). And, this week the skies cleared and temperatures rose all week long, as if God had revealed the bright Israeli shemesh (sun) to mark a promising new beginning for our class.

Blue sky in Beer-sheva

The assimilation phase has not yet set in and mustn’t be rushed. It’s both reasonable and prudent to give it ample time and space to develop on its own schedule, for that final phase is measured by a rate of furlongs per fortnight, not inches per instant. For now, my stride has been hit, and I have some work to do.   - blogger of the month, Seth Morrison

My week during Operation Pillar of Defense, by Jamie Klein

I do not believe it is my position to write a political response to what occurred during Operation Pillar of Defense. As it is my first year at the Medical School for International Health, this is my first exposure to an experience like this and I feel it is most appropriate to share my story rather than my political beliefs.

Wednesday November 14^th

Around 4pm

 As the sun began to set on Wednesday evening, I received an alert from Haaretz newspaper informing me that the Israeli Air Force (IAF) had assassinated Ahmed Jabari. Not knowing who he was, I placed my phone down and continued to study. About fifteen minutes passed and my boyfriend, who sat next to me, received a call from his friend asking if he had heard the news. I watched as his face expression changed abruptly, not knowing what consequences were to follow. Once off the phone he explained to me that Jabari was the operational head of Hamas military wing. While we sat and discussed the possible repercussions of his death, the IAF continued to target rocket storage facilities throughout the Gaza strip. Following an hour of discussions, we decided that the potential for a retaliation from Gaza was highly probable and it would be a safe decision to leave Be’er Sheva for the night. Shortly after making the decision to leave, I received an email from Mike Diamond that classes would be canceled on Thursday November 15 – confirming the decision we made only moments before.

5:45pm

In the midst of packing clothes for the weekend and ensuring I had enough books to study, I called a classmate of mine, Zach, to see if he had been released from his Global Health Module (an additional seminar that students register for throughout the year). He informed me that they had indeed been released early and he was on his way home. I offered for Zach to come with my boyfriend and me to the Arava (an area in southeast Israel on the border with Jordan) for the weekend, as a precaution for the number of sirens that may occur later in the night and into the weekend. He agreed and we decided to meet at my boyfriend’s apartment around 9.

9:00pm

I was informed that our ride to the Arava was nearing the apartment, so I decided to call Zach and tell him to come over. Less than thirty seconds after hanging up the phone, the air-raid siren sounded. My boyfriend, his mom and I went briskly to the safe room, closed to window and door and waited patiently for the siren to end. Usually one cycle of the siren lasts a minute and only occurs once - this time the siren cycled through three times. Towards the end of the final siren we heard about 15 explosions only a kilometer or two away. Immediately I called Zach to find out his whereabouts. Luckily he had not left his apartment, but I urged him to run over to us before another siren sounded. I turned to the television and was surprised to see video footage of what I heard only moments before. One orange explosion after another appeared in the black canvas of the night sky and I felt my heart beat just one thump louder.

9:15pm

Although it seemed like an hour, Zach made it to our apartment in less than twenty minutes. While I was on the phone, giving him the access code to the apartment, another siren sounded. I told Zach to get into the stairwell while we went to safe room once again. This time the explosion was different – it was closer than before and did not have identifiable sound of the Iron Dome interception. This time the rocket landed inside Be’er Sheva. When the siren finished we retrieved Zach from the stairwell and together sat wide-eyed staring at the news. Shortly after we were notified that our ride arrived and we headed down the stairwell to the car. As we left the building we could smell the smoke from the rocket that landed inside the city. The smell of hot metal and fumes burned the inside of my nares, forever ingraining that moment in my memory. The following half-hour car-ride out of Be’er Sheva and passed Dimona, the next closest city, was the most quiet and apprehensive I have ever felt.

The following days…

My first few days in the Arava were spent in constant communication with my classmates. We knew at all times which students remained in Be’er Sheva and those that traveled to other destinations outside of rocket range. As one of the class representatives, my cell phone remained in the palm of my hand at all times. There is no question it was a stressful time for my classmates and me. As the situation continued to escalate, Israeli families all across the country were opening their doors to residents of the south. Never had I witnessed such hospitality and sincere compassion before in my life. Host families offered to take in each and every individual residing in the south, no questions asked. Thankfully Zach and I were able to find a host family in the Arava able to accommodate the Kiv family of six!  My classmate Sakal, his wife Faith and their four children were finally able to sleep peacefully. Their host family’s father even whittled wood toys for the children to play with. It was remarkable that we could transform such an uncomfortable situation into a mini-vacation.

As our days in the Arava continued, Zach and I were fortunate to tour the agricultural fields.  The Arava is a very special region of Israel that is at the forefront of agricultural technology and development. Almost every vegetable imaginable is being grown there, sprouting from the depths of the desert.

Final remarks

A week after Operation Pillar of Defense began, MSIH students were notified that school had been suspended to the end of December. Ironically, later that same day a cease-fire was declared. However by this time many students, including myself, had booked plane tickets home hoping to get home in time for Thanksgiving.

And indeed I did. I arrived home at 3pm on Thursday afternoon, just in time to surprise my family for Thanksgiving and celebrate my birthday with them.  24 hours prior I could not have imagined myself sitting at home surrounded by family and digging into my mom’s famous turkey and mashed potatoes. There was no doubt about it, I definitely had a thing or two to be thankful for this year. - blogger of the month, Jamie Klein

Refreshing, Awakening, Invigorating, Necessary: RAIN, by blogger of the month Jamie Klein

 11.12.12

In communities all over the world rain is mesmerizing. It literally forces us to stop in our tracks, allowing us to pause, evaluate and recollect our thoughts. In that moment of silence and stillness, we are amazed at what enters our minds. For my roommate rain is the ultimate balcony cleaning solution, no bleach or physical labor necessary. For myself rain brings a taste of home, a refreshing scent of spring that is generally lacking from this desert environment. And for the resident cat outside my apartment, rain provides the long awaited bath it has dreamed of.

Rain is as refreshing as it is essential, and it has arrived in Beer Sheva! 

As the weather is changing and finals are arriving, I can feel my classmates and myself itching for the interpersonal experiences we imagined having as up-incoming physicians. Appropriately timed, this week we began the first of several sessions intended to give us practical experience on the patient interview.

As a warm up for our pediatric interview rotation, my class and I visited Hagar elementary school in attempt to re-familiarize ourselves with the mentality of six year olds. The mission of the school is incredibly progressive in that they are integrating Arab and Israeli children and families together in order to develop a greater understanding of each others culture. Politics and conflict aside, it is a noble act.

My classmates and I divided into groups in order to participate in different after school activities: theater, cooking, reading, art, etc. A few others and myself were asked to join the kindergarteners. Due to the rain, our playtime activities were limited to legos, blocks, and crayons – still highly acceptable to the average five year old regardless of what continent you are on. I spent my time with a young Arab girl named Hallah building a lego farm. Like any two girls, our indecisiveness got the best of us and we remodeled several times. Luckily, in the end we were both pleased with the design of our lego farm! 

Aside from this experience forcing me to speak only in Hebrew, I was reminded that there is more to studying medicine than merely the basic sciences. It was the necessary wake-up call my classmates and I had been long awaiting. - blogger of the month Jamie Klein

Progress made, by blogger of the month Jacek Jarczynski

Western Wall, Old City, Jerusalem 

Me in red with Julian and Tal.

September is almost through and I can hardly believe that I have been in Israel since mid-July.  A great deal of progress has been made on all fronts with regard to academics, housing, settling in, meeting new people, and getting familiar with Be’er Sheva in general.  As summer turns to fall I can see olives and dates ripening on the trees throughout the city.  There is much inspiration in this area for someone with an appreciation for nature, history and ethnography.  I am quite fond of Be’er Sheva and the new friendships I established here.  The MSIH experience thus far has been fantastic.  The classes are coming along well (taking a break from biochemistry reading to write this entry), I am picking up more of the Hebrew language with every day and the local people I have met here so far proved to be incredibly generous and friendly … and I love my new bed!  No more sleeping on an inflatable mattress!  The things we take for granted until we have to relocate and set up shop all over again in a new place.  Earlier during the month we went on a class trip to Jerusalem.  After meeting with students from the Hebrew University Medical Center we went on a tour of the old city.  It is impossible not to feel the weight of history present in every corner of the old city.  All for now and back to glycolysis and the pentose phosphate pathway.   - blogger of the month Jacek Jarczynski

Cool grammar facts, and more! by September blogger of the month Benzi Samueli

As anyone in my Hebrew class can attest by now, I love studying grammar and the rules of grammar. So before I begin my discussion on life in Israel, let me tell a short story that lead me to a cool grammar fact. My friend and I had a difference of opinion regarding the proper definition of a word, so I went to the Merriam Webster dictionary website. In any case, this also brought me to MW’s grammar videos, from which I learned the following:

When the word octopus was brought into English in the 18th century, it was given a standard English plural suffix (octopuses). When fanatic Latin grammar nuts insisted on giving words their proper Latin endings, octopi was entered into the dictionary. Realizing that octopus actually comes from GRΣΣK, other grammarians gave it the proper plural: octopodes (ock-TOP-uh-deez). Incidentally, Octopodes is the name of my alma mater’s oldest a cappella group.

That having been said, I was asked to talk a little bit about my experience moving to Israel under the Law of Return. Once you are determined eligible for citizenship, the State places you into one of four categories, which have almost no practical significance (there are two things that I’ll get to in a minute). They are:

●     עולה חדש* - New immigrant - has no previous legal connection to Israel (me)

●     קטין חוזר - Returning minor - was born in Israel but left at a very young age and returns as an adult (my lovely wife Rakefet)

●     אזרח עולה - Citizen immigrant - was granted citizenship on birth due to technical reasons, but wasn’t actually born here (two of the other immigrants in my class)

●     תושב חוזר - Returning resident - grew up in Israel, moved abroad, and is now moving back

As I mentioned, these categories bear very little significance. The State gives some extra benefits to a New Immigrant that others don’t get (such as 1 year of health insurance; otherwise it costs the market price of $1500/year).

But the main purpose of the categories is to add bureaucracy to the system. (Lesson #4: Everything in Israel is designed to create more bureaucracy, which in turn creates jobs for people to handle the extra paperwork.) Because my lovely wife Rakefet is a Returning Minor, our immigration booklet is green instead of the blue one that other immigrants get. Immigrants who are entitled to a blue book are able to get them at the airport upon arrival, but green bookers need to go to the nearest immigration office to pick them up. But just for fun, if a green booker is married to a blue booker, even though that causes the couple’s shared book to be the green type, then it is received at the airport. Also, if you happen not to fit nicely into one of these three categories (and indeed, someone in my class does not), then you get to play circus with every authority you encounter because there’s no checkbox that accurately describes you on the forms.

Lesson #5: (the most important lesson I will ever give) The bureaucracy is much easier to deal with if you do your homework and really learn the process. For example, converting your driver’s license can be done in the following simple steps: 1) get optician's note; 2) physician signs note; 3) DMV stamps note; 4) schedule & take 3 driving classes using the DMV stamp; 5) schedule practical exam; 6) pay for the exam at post office; 7) take exam and get certificate; 8) bring certificate to the DMV for your temporary license; 9) bring temporary license to post office to activate it; 10) wait for the real license in the mail. Although you may not realize that you need to go to the post office twice in order to get your license, it’s true. So before you ask anything from a government office, it’s highly advisable to know what they expect from you. And while they will expect a lot more from you than their counterparts in the States, it is manageable.

One great benefit of Israel’s bureaucracy, though, is the Population Registry. Every citizen is fully described in the computers of the Population Registry. When you buy a cell phone plan, PO box, internet service, pet octopodes, bank account, or anything at all, you just give your 9-digit Citizen Number (aka TZ). Lesson #6: Unlike your SSN, this number is not private, mainly because in Israel you don’t get privacy. With your TZ, the sales rep can instantly download your phone number, mailing address, birthday, and all-important immigrant classification. Then, you just have to fill out a blank form with your phone number, mailing address, birthday... wait, why did they download that information from the Registry if I have to fill out this form anyway? Whatever, this is Israel.

*Joke

Taught by my Hebrew teacher. Background: Russians usually pronounce the Hebrew/English “oh” as an “ah” sound. Ex. Moscowbecomes Moskvah. The rest of the joke has to be done in Hebrew because it doesn’t make sense in English.

שני עלים יושבים בנחת על ענף של עץ. פתאום מגיע עלה נוסף ומתיישב ליידם. העלים מסתובבים ומסתכלים עליו ושואלים אותו "סליחה מי אתה?" אז הוא עונה להם במבטא רוסי "אני עלה חדש"

How I learned what I learned, by blogger of the month Seungjin Kim

During the first year of the MSIH program, I learned quite a lot about International Health. The learning was mostly by frontal lectures by some fascinating lecturers who have or are currently working in their relative health sectors, ranging from local hospitals to the Israeli government agency, even outward to Europe and the WHO. I really learned a lot, and the concept of it doesn't seem too vague anymore.

Frontal lectures have the advantage of speeding up acquirement of near-neutral knowledge, much like as you'd learn Kung-fu by inserting a jack at the back of your head and downloading the software, like how Neo did in the movie Matrix. Then again, it's not THAT interesting. Or fun.

My first direct exposure, or how I first sensed I am being exposed to the fact that this school is situated with a window to show a world other than the United States I was comfortable in, was through the clinical interview sessions, and especially when we started going to the Bedouin villages. Well, not only that. A local PHR group held meetings about the Bedouins and how bad their situation is in Israel.

A straight-shot way to describe what I felt would be that the Bedouin situation was a model in which I learned the concepts to consider when the goal was to increase the health status of a developing country. We listened to the examples in the Bedouin population in nutrition studies in GHM health modules, tribe-based genetic diseases in Genetics, lower status of women, high prevalence of diabetes, and the demolition/re-construction of unrecognized Bedouin villages and reasons why.

On top of that we started going out to the clinics situated in the Bedouin villages, such as Tel Sheva. We saw the patients, usual reasons for hospital visit, and we also tagged along house visits. The house visits really opened my eyes as to what we'll be actually doing if we're to be doctors in developing countries. The nurse that tagged us along was being invited into a family house, counseling on diets that are better for the diabetic father, teaching how to use the insulin injector. The diabetic patients with parts of their lower limbs amputated made me think a lot. It could have been avoided.

My second direct exposure was when I helped out a second year set up a computerized medical records system for a refugee clinic in Tel Aviv. One of our classmate found in her heart to start volunteering every week there, even though that means spending quite a bit of time just in transit. Anyway, before the computerized medical records system, they only had Word documents as a medical records system. With the help of this brilliant second year, the refugee clinic now runs on Ubuntu (I just had to put this down here because it's an open source Linux operating system and it's so awesome standing up to Microsoft and Windows!!!), running OpenMRS – the fully free medical records system that, like any other awesome open-source initiatives, are done by a focused network of like-minded programmers around the world who think they should give to the world something awesome, for free.

The refugee clinic in right inside Tel-Aviv's huge Central Bus Station, or CBS. They are part of a network of refugee clinics, where refugees can come for medical needs. In this one, it's managed by Orel, an Israeli that is around my age, with a passion for cigarettes and the need to help the refugees find justice in Israel. I'm thankful I found an outlet for my need to fix/tinker with computers, that I can help out in the IT part of the refugee clinic, and maybe on the health side of the operation as well, if time permits in the coming year.

Of course, there are other ways to get exposed, such as the PHR. Or teaching English in Umbatim. Or you can just outright create your own window to whatever you want to get exposed. I know I'm not the adventurous type, and even I got two substantial exposures this year – a taste of what's to come in the next two years here, and afterwards as a doctor in underserved communities. – blogger of the month Seungjin Kim

Bete' Avon! by blogger of the month Nicole Magpayo

Joel Robuchon's Restaurant L'Atelier in Paris, France

Hello again! Since we’re nearing the end of Endocrinology and Caroline House (which for you incoming first years will get to know a little too well J ) starts to get more packed- the studying continues and is starting to get more intense as the exam approaches. Unfortunately, that means I really have nothing exciting to share. No random trips to Tel Aviv, no outdoor excursions to Jordan- sorry, all those cool adventures are put on hold since we only have about 8 days left (*containing hand-waving up in the air excitement*).  However, I realized the other day a big part of the everyday cultural experience being in Israel and being in medical school is food.

Brunch for 6 people - yes, we're hungry :)

I’m a HUGE foodie. I love trying new things- whether it’s a run down place on the corner, a family place on a quiet street or even a super fancy restaurant filled with tourists. I want to and will try it all. I think I started to become a huge foodie after living in Italy for a year (really, how could you not?!). Food, in my opinion, is probably one of the best parts of life (insert fat kid joke here) and insanely creative.

As students, especially medical students, who constantly are either in class or studying or usually both- I think food becomes even more important and difficult to find. First, we’re in a foreign country, so accessibility to the usual things you eat in the States is hard enough (my bit of advice: bring the things you can’t live without!). Second, as students who are stressed out, snacking, especially during exams can be a bit of a dangerous habit. Third, finding the time to cook an amazing dinner in itself is difficult.

In Israel, you’ll find a mix of falafel, hummus and shawarma (wait, is there more? Jk!). But I’ve realized that part of actually LIVING here or anywhere for that matter is learning how to use what’s available to create something of your own. For me, I love to cook! When I was living in Boston, I used to cook these fancy, elaborate meals after work. But nowadays, finding the time to a. go grocery shopping (Tiv Tam aka our Americanized grocery store haven) or b. to actually sit and cook something that could take hours, is just difficult. However, even with all of these limitations, I actually do cook everyday. I find it both healthier (since I know what’s going into my food- thanks, but no thanks for the pound of butter) and relaxing. Cooking is a relaxing activity for me, mostly because I enjoy it and after making something yummy I can say – wow, I just made that!

My first gluten-free cake!

Baking, on the other hand, is quiet a challenge- especially when you don’t have an oven. Yes, most apartments here in Israel don’t have ovens. Don’t panic though- they have huge toaster ovens, and yes they work just as well! Just take a look at the picture below, this year I made my first gluten-free cake! It was also my first double layered cake with homemade frosting J. Birthdays are pretty big in our class- just this past week people brought watermelon, salad, cookies, cupcakes (yes, usually in our class, we have 3 cakes for ONE birthday, but that’s just because we’re awesome like that).

Homemade strawberry scones!

Anyway, the point is that even if things are limited here- it’s easy to find a way to use what you have to make something satisfying. The fruit stand in Bet is one of my favorite spots to visit on a weekly basis as it has all the basics at a good price- bananas, apples, zucchini, lemons, mushrooms, avocados – I even found fresh coconut! I also think that’s the fun of moving somewhere culturally different and whenever I visit a place- I always want to try what’s local there. Food is a huge part of the culture and very unique in any country you visit.

Mexican themed birthday party!

As corny as it is- food also brings everyone together. I’ve been to a few Shabbat dinners and I think it’s a wonderful tradition. A family gathering over food with several courses- why not?! Just a few weeks ago, we had a dinner for a classmate’s birthday (Hi Kiki) which was nice, since she is an amazing baker and usually bakes for everyone else, so it was a great day to treat her! We had a Mexican “themed” party with enchiladas, homemade guacamole and homemade salsa! See, even if we’re not in States- we still make it work! Ok, all this writing about food is making me hungry – happy eating!

Challah French Toast made by Chef Tony!

Fruit stand in Bet.

P.S. If you ever happen to go to Paris, this is probably THE BEST MEAL I’ve ever had in my life- it’s not cheap, but trust me, your mouth won’t care J   - Nicole Magpayo, blogger of the month