Colombia, Week 1

The view from my balcony

Because Dad served his mission here in the 1970s, Colombia has always held special appeal for me among all Latin American countries. During my first year of medical school, the Scholars in Medicine Office gave a presentation in my Advanced Medical Spanish class about the various exchange opportunities that exist for fourth-year medical students, chances to spend a month or two completing a medical rotation abroad. Harvard has numerous of these exchanges with Spanish-speaking countries, including Guatemala, Costa Rica, Spain, and Chile, but my heart jumped for the one at the Universidad de Antioquia in Medellín, Colombia. Three years and a lot of paperwork later, I am writing this blog post from my 13th-story balcony in the special city of Medellín and cannot help but feel that a dream of mine has come true.

During my two flights down here, the first to Panama City for a layover and the second to Medellín, I began to feel a strong sense of adventure swelling within me. I don't know if I would have recognized it as such had I not ever come to Medellín, but I believe in retrospect that I was beginning to feel a bit stagnant as a medical student. The focus in medical school over the past few months has been on completing so many tasks--taking and passing the next two of our lengthy board exams, working on our scholarly research projects, applying for residency, and the like. The idea of leaving the country for a month broke that sense of stasis and has been serving as a powerful reminder that one can always seek new ways to challenge oneself, to grow and evolve. Life need never be boring--we can create surprise and opportunity for ourselves in many ways. I did not realize how much I needed a shake-up from my routine, but I am feeling happier now that I have it. In fact, I've been feeling incredibly happy down here ever since I landed.

The drive from the airport to the city was so beautiful that I smiled the entire way despite my cab driver smoking and taking the curvy roads at top speeds without standard driving safety precautions. There are many things that I love about the East Coast, but one of the things that I miss the most is the stunning Rocky Mountains that characterize our home in Wyoming. Medellín is a city in a valley surrounded by tall mountains of the Andes, and seeing all of the peaks around me filled me with joy as we drove into the city. I have never seen a climate quite like that of Medellín, a strange hybrid of rain forest and mountain. The city keeps a remarkably tight range of temperatures throughout the entire year, earning it the nickname "City of Eternal Spring." It is generally somewhere between pleasantly cool and just a bit too hot, and it has rained every day since I've been here. At night, when the city is dark, you can no longer see the mountains but still see the lights of the buildings that are built on their face, creating this enchanting, strange effect where it almost looks like the city is folding up and in on itself. It is gorgeous here.

The entrance to one building of the hospital I'm working in this month

The reminders that I am no longer in the United States are everywhere. Cars and especially a plethora of motorbikes constantly fight for space on the streets and weave in and out around pedestrians with only inches to spare, creating noise and exhaust. Street vendors sell fresh tropical fruit in cups, socks, little candies, and cigarettes. I can buy a delicious cheesy arepa for less than a dollar. I just ate an enormous meal of a nice thick soup, two cups of fresh-squeezed pineapple juice, and then a plate with beans, rice, tomatoes, fried plaintain, and meatballs, the entire thing for under $3. It's absurd. Everything has seemed remarkably inexpensive, especially compared to the prices I have become accustomed to paying in Boston. There are lines everywhere that move so slowly as to drive a North American mad--lines at the grocery store, lines to buy a metro pass, lines to get our hospital ID badge. There is no peanut butter in the grocery store, and milk is in liter cartons and not refrigerated. There are also very different cultural norms about staring here. I have constantly felt like people stare at me everywhere I go, and I finally asked a few Colombian friends if this is because I look different since I have green eyes. "No," she said. "It's just the culture here. People always look at each other. When I was in the United States, it was so freeing because no one looked at me on the streets." It's very bizarre here because it is not considered rude to make eye contact with strangers, and even I, the outgoing guy, am not used to it and get paranoid about what people might be looking at or thinking. People are also extremely warm--everyone says "buenas" to each other when they pass each other on the street or if they share an elevator. It's a very warm culture.


I'll stop here for tonight. Next week I'll write about my time in the hospital and the friends that I've made so far. Suffice it to say this has been one of the most incredible weeks of my life. I think every single day, "wow, I am so lucky. I can't believe I'm here." I've felt tremendous gratitude for Mrs. Chamberlain, my Spanish seventh-grade teacher with whom I connected so strongly over this language that I started what has now become a 16-year love affair with the Spanish and Latino language and cultures. I feel so fortunate to be at a medical school that has international exchanges and time in the curriculum for us to do them. I just feel beyond blessed to be here. It has been incredible. I love and miss all of you. There's nothing like being far from home to make you miss it sorely, and I miss you all sorely.