"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.

"I get by with a little help from my friends," by MSIH blogger Tamara Kliot

With classes done and exams in full swing, we have an opportunity to reflect on what has happened over the past 5 or so months. We have learned about the important enzymes that allow us to metabolize nutrients and sustain life, the battle that occurs inside us every time we are invaded by foreign pathogens, the intricate design of cells in different parts of the body, the bacteria we should love and hate, the true meaning of statistical significance, and ethical dilemmas physicians face on a daily basis. It has become pretty apparent to me that the fact humans function so well on a daily basis is a miracle. While it’s crazy to think we have learned all this in one semester, I knew I would be studying these subjects. This is medical school after all.

I knew we were complicated creatures, but I have witnessed another level of our awesomeness these past few weeks. Finals are not the most relaxed time for students. The elevated cortisol levels tend to bring out the worst in people. However, that has not really been the case for my class. It was clear from the beginning of school, that people were interested in collaborating. Classmates would share resources they were using, notes they had compiled, or Anki flash cards they had made with other classmates frequently. When classes ended and exams began, I assumed people would be MIA and only surface on exam days, like any other exam period I had experienced in undergraduate.

Since classes have ended, I have been blown away by the amount of generosity that has gone on. People sharing notes, resources, and uplifting videos in our Facebook group. I am constantly getting notifications about this new resource or PDFs or question banks or YouTube videos or outlined notes. While it’s hard to keep tract of what I could be using at times, but its comforting to know we are all working toward the same goals together. In addition to sharing resources, people have also been sharing their time. Classmates have made a concerted effort to check in with each other to see how

people are handling the stress of finals. It’s pretty amazing to see how invested people are in our success as a group, not just the individual.

I’ve been told going into medicine is like running a marathon. You cannot sprint, you have to pace yourself. Even though running and taking exams are individual sports, they are much easier when you have a team of individuals to help keep you honest with your training.  With four exams down and one more exam to go, there is an end in sight. We are about to cross our first finish line in a series of many races and I am incredibly grateful for the team I have here in Beer Sheva.

I mean, how hard can crossing the finish line be when you have people like this in your life?

"Finding Family in Friends," by MSIH December blogger of the month Tamara Kliot

Studying medicine abroad is exciting! There are always new places to explore, people to meet, languages to learn, cultural norms to adapt to, and things to discover. The opportunities to procrastinate studying for biochemistry or immunology are abundant. However, with the ending of classes and beginning of exams, there has been a noticeable shift in how people are allocating their time. Priorities are shifting as that list of important information to review continues to grow.

While having fun and taking “mini-vacations” are important stress relievers, it is easy to lose sight of that when you are in the thick of studying. It is easy to isolate yourself in a study fortress and spend your time surrounded by books and watching videos on metabolic processes. It is easy to forget to be a human and spend time with friends and talk to family.

I was reminded of this when my Israeli neighbor wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. He was the last person I expected to hear those words from, but he forced me to stop and think. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it's an opportunity to spend time with family and reflect on the things we are grateful for. Living in Israel, it would have been easy to forget to celebrate or even acknowledge Thanksgiving. It is just another day in Israel and in many other countries for that matter. We had had a busy week, multiple quizzes to study for, and a paper to write; the last thing on people’s minds was Thanksgiving.

But as Thanksgiving continued, it was not just another day in Beer Sheva. Some of our classmates had the forethought to organize a dinner at Butchery to celebrate the end of first semester classes and well… Thanksgiving! It was a fabulous time with delicious food (tons of meat!) and amazing company. It was fun to see our non-American classmates get in the spirit of Thanksgiving as well! The night was filled with stories, laughs, and celebration (we did just finish one semester of classes!). I learned so many new things about the awesome people I am lucky enough to call classmates. It was a great way to recharge from a long week and reminded me that I do in fact have a family here in Beer Sheva, people I call friends and accomplices in this adventure we call medical school. 

"Every day is Valentine's Day at MSIH", by blogger of the month Shauna Dunton

Valentine's Day

The middle of February marks our 6th month of attending the Medical School for International Health, of living in Be’er Sheva, Israel, of knowing and growing very close with our classmates, and of being far away from our loved ones at home.

Our time here is truly flying by.  We have learned so much and we have gotten so close to one another in such a short time.  In fact we have become so close as a class that we find any excuse to spend more time with each other which is quite incredible considering we spend eight hours a day with each other at school already, not to mention that most of us live together. For example, we recently celebrated Valentines day together as a class by having a “breakfast for dinner” Valentines Day Feast complete with card signing for each and every student in our class. There were heart shaped pancakes, french toast dyed pink, and loads of loving glances at one another as you might expect at such an event.

In other news, this past Thursday, two of our classmates played in Light Opera Group of the Negev’s production of Fiddler on the Roof. It was an amazing production and about half of our class came out to support them in this great endeavor. The acting and the dancing were spot on and I know we’ve all got those catchy tunes still stuck in our heads a week later.

Fiddler on the Roof

Last but not least, on Monday night a group of woman from all years of MSIH put on a spectacular production of the Vagina Monologues. I had watched a production of the monologues performed at Colgate University where I went for undergrad, but as another student in our program pointed out, it was quite powerful to see this production done by an array of multi-talented women that are all going to become doctors.

Vagina Monologues

You might think at this point in my blog post that we may not realize that we are here to study medicine, but believe me, we do! I will elaborate on all the things we are doing in the classroom in my next blog post.

Until then, lehitra’ot!                                                 - Shauna Dunton, 1st year blogger of the month

What matters most, by Jonah Kreniske

A gentle breeze wafts in from the balcony, sliding through my open door and bringing a welcome chill. I step out and rest my hands on the iron banister. In the distance I can make out the hills of Ramot, barely lit by a low, rust colored moon.  My neighborhood, Gimmel, winds out below me. Undulating Hebrew and Arabic beats from nearby apartment complexes mix with the usual classic rock standards from Coca bar up the street.  If it were daytime, you would hear the Ethiopian children across the street playing in the yard of the New Immigrant Absorption Center. But it is almost one in the morning, and they are sleeping now. I should probably be sleeping too. Instead, I’m standing here, breathing in the city. From my balcony I can see Soroka Hospital. A shining invitation to the unwell of the desert night, it is a slice of sleek modernity in the dusty streets.

The past month, in that hospital, has been a whirlwind introduction to our new lives as physicians in training. We have met our classmates and together we have absorbed myriad lectures, and trudged through hours of intensive Ulpan. Now, in this rare moment of relative calm, I look across at the maternity clinic, and I wonder if someone is being born behind those walls. It’s comforting to remember that life begins here. On Monday, walking past the ER to my first class, a weeping woman swept past me. Glancing towards the ER doors she had burst out of, I saw another woman writhing on the floor. An ambulance had just arrived. Never have I heard so much pain in the voice of another human being as I heard in the cries of that woman outside the ER, on my way to 8am class.  At Soroka we see what we might push to the back of our minds in another context. We see illness and death, birth and health, side-by side, tipping weights on a human scale.  

“Good medicine is not about killing microbes, it is about keeping human bodies in balance,” one professor reminded us. On the hospital campus, in the tireless work of the physicians and nurses who pace its halls, and in the aspiring faces of my classmates, I see the will to maintain that balance. In the struggle to provide care, I see the physical manifestation of the compassionate instinct that I would like to believe is somewhere in all of us. As I step back into my room for the night, I know another long day of classes awaits us in the mounting heat of the morning, but I also know that this day will be another small drop on the side of the scale that matters most. - Jonah Kreniske, September blogger of the month

Homebody, by blogger of the month Elon Richman

So its like this.

People have noticed that I regularly draw a house on my ankle. It’s simple: a square frame, triangular roof, a doorway and a rectangular chimney with smoke from the top (its lived in).

I don’t draw on myself because I’m bored in class. Its a meaningful reaffirmation and a statement of my self respect and self love.

Wait, what?

While working at a coffee house in Tel Aviv I decided to come up with ideas for tattoos. Something basic, not too crazy, and preferably a picture that I could design and even tattoo onto myself with household materials (that last part was / still is very questionable).

So I drew. First it was Mr. Peanut, then a bear with a cigarette in its mouth (morning shifts are long) and finally a house.

Why did I draw this simple house?

At first the house reminded me of my home in Miami, a beautiful 1920’s, Mediterranean style abode where I spent my childhood and fondest memories. It made me homesick. 

But then I remembered that I came to Israel to see if I could actually feel at home in what I’ve always considered my second country.

Finally I asked myself: What is home?

Is it where you grew up? Where you’ve lived most of your life? Where people know you? Is it where your friends are? Your family? Is it the place where your dogs are? 

What does it feel like to be at home?

I concluded that the home is not necessarily a specific place. It is where one feels complete and whole, a place from where warmth and comfort generate. 

Where do those feelings come from?

When faced with these kinds of existential questions I tend to turn toward my learnings in meditation and Buddhist philosophy. From that perspective, it seems to me that warmth and completeness arise from within.

Warmth and completeness from within.

That means it doesn’t really matter in what specific location you put yourself. Home is a mindset and can be created in any Bedouin capital in which you may happen to be. All you need are the right tools to build it. Personally, I build with friends, love, routine, a good mind and a sweet patio. 

But everyone has different specifications.

Now, I’m not saying I’ve never felt “homesick”, but feelings are transient. Missing a place means its special, but it doesn’t mean that you must be there or that it is the only place you belong. If one can feel truly present, other homes will have less of a grasp (by present I mean feeling in touch with both the outer and inner environments. Its hard).

We’re all building houses in Israel. So as you continue to form the structure of your life here, think about the roof that’ll protect you from hard times, think about the walls that will keep in the warmth and think about the windows of perspective from which you would like to look. 

And make sure your door is open for guests.

So now, every time I sit down and put my feet up, I see the house and remember that my body is my home and the vessel by which I experience it. I redraw it every day and reaffirm this message to myself: 

Home is wherever I am. 

Home is wherever you are.  - blogger of the month, Elon Richman