And we're off (part 2)...

During this first week of school, I have caught myself surveying the lecture hall and noticing the different groups in which people have settled. Because I sit in the middle row in the middle seat with a fellow classmate. I have an ideal perch from which to look over my fellow classmates. People, for the most part, are friendly here, though I have noticed that we've gotten to the point where if we pass a fellow M1 in the hallway who we do not yet know, we are quite comfortably able to avert the eyes and shuffle past one another.

As for me, I have found that though I may have sat in the same spot this week with the same friend, my thoughts have been constantly on the different groups around me. I see different parts of myself scattered in the different circles; I want to be good friends with people who are parts of circles that may never intersect.

As I continue to try find consistency in my interactions, I think one of two things is happening: I am either losing myself in an attempt to change who I am or I am finding myself anew in becoming part of new social network.

And then I wonder to myself if there is a third possibility: in achieving the latter, am I also accomplishing the former?

More classroom tidbits

Today, the TAs for the different classes came in to talk about what to expect from classes and how to interact wiht professors/TAs.

The TA from Medical Statistics admitted that his class was the one that receives the least attention, concisely calling the course "not a ball-breaker." Upon uttering this last phrase, he paused to think about what he wanted to say next, and, as the snickers and outright laughter permeated the lecture hall, turned to the dean heading up the Q&A session and said, "does this need to be censored?"

One of the biochemistry TAs, an enthusiastic Indian chap clearly from overseas, was prompted by the dean, "I have all these stupid questions that need answers. Where can I get help? Who can I go to?" Almost immediately the student began his response with "You can still ask them..."

Free lunches are nice, but, Lord willing, I think I'm going to boycott pizza for the rest of the semester.

And we're off.

The following conversation took place between two of my classmates concerning going in to see the cadavers when another group mate was assigned dissection duties for the week

A: I mean I wouldn't want to get in the way.
B: Yeah, but you can just go and ask if they could show you a few structures.
A: Ok. So we can just make friends.
B: Yeah, cliques are forming already. I hate this shit. You gotta get on it.

There you have it, M1 is officially underway. Registration says 21 credits. The deans say it's the equivalent to 35 undergrad credits. I'll see for myself soon what kind of workload this entails.

"Cooking" v.1.0

Tonight I cooked my first meal in the dorm kitchen down here. If any of you know me, you can probably guess what went in it. I also recently got a new camera, to replace the one that died two years ago. I claim neither to be a good photographer nor a culinary god. Still, everyone likes visuals so here you go:
















I don't even know if the ingredients I put in really go together (ginger, garlic, and honey were fine...but white pepper?). It's been a while since I've cooked for myself like this. As a result, the extra water I added to dilute the soy sauce and the excessive amount of onions thwarted any attempts to pan-fry the chicken breasts. I was also too lazy to flatten them out or cut them into smaller pieces so I ended up over-cooking them (in an addition to the green onions) in an attempt to makes sure the insides were cooked. I suppose the only criteria for a dish like this is: am I okay eating this for the next few days?

Urbana! Champaign!

It's been four days since I set foot on the campus to which, if you had asked me freshman year at WashU, I might have considered transferring. As it is, I will get my chance to experience a DI college-town, and having begun to explore the campus on a run this afternoon, I'm beginning to see how such a large campus can also manage to be endearing.

I checked out a couple of the workout facilities here. Three words: Rock. Climbing. Wall.
I like the set up of the campus. The layout is well-organized, sitting a grid of east-west, north-south streets. Many of the buildings have a healthy patch of lawn, and the quads, all three of them, are bigger (and nicer) than what I used to have in St. Louis.

I'm expecting the food to disappoint. Still, Korean BBQ stir fry isn't too shabby for a first meal. I suppose the caveat is that this is considered the best that the dorm food has to offer. I believe I will start eating more tofu in an attempt to reduce the time spent in the kitchen.

I met one of my neighbors the other day. Amanda Heredia, a woman most likely in her 50s, who is doing her masters in bilingual education. She wants to go back to Chicago, where she's lived since immigrating from Colombia many years ago, to help the schools down there. We need more people like her.

My classmates? I believe the best i can do is make some general observations. People seem to form their little groups quickly, and it's easy to see who hasn't found their group yet. I seem to be hesitant to stay with any one particular group of people. Besides, classes haven't started yet, and I'm sure that's when core groups will start to form more aggressively. That's not necessarily a bad thing either.

I realize that the last four years have made me more acutely aware of certain groups around me. Whether it's the cooks at the cafeteria, the cleaning people in my dorm, or even the student clerks behind the desk, I try not let myself to obliviously pass them by. Sometimes, I enjoy these interactions more than the ones with my classmates. It hasn't been since freshman year that I've asked so many people the questions: "Where are you from," "Where do you live," and "What's your name again?"

I appreciate very much old friends who are down here for various schooling, jobs. I think the word "family" is fitting.

I also wonder if at such a big school, the urgency to find your "group" becomes even more important. I think that if I had come here for undergrad, issues such as "Asianness" wouldn't have been as big of a deal to me. I wonder if I will have time to have such thoughts once school starts.

Open and Closure

Today, I had to go to the hospital in order to get a liver biopsy. The nurses at the hosptial made the time much more enjoyable. They were warm, friendly, and humorously sarcastic. The doctors did their job adequately, and given the quick nature of the procedure (we're going to stick you with a needle into your liver 3 times), I suppose I shouldn't expect much more. Whenever possible, I like watching the needle, whether for a shot, IV or something else, as it's stuck into me. Perhaps it's a personal challenge to increase my pain tolerance. The actual procedure did hurt a bit. I suppose when they take samples of your liver it'll do that. In terms of intensity, the pain wasn't as sharp as when I got my in-grown toenail ripped out by the podiatrist but, it still hurt enough to warrant attention.

I also got to see an old friend in the supply department where I volunteered in high school. Back then, I had purposely chosen the supply department because I wasn't interested in getting "medical exposure" just for the sake of college applications but still "needed" (as my mom put it) volunteer experience. I was able to get pretty close to two of the workers there, Leo and Luke. I saw Leo today, and I wrote this about Luke. Reflections on time, growing up, friendship are all applicable here (Concerning these things, I don't mean to be trite but I'd rather not go into too much more detail about such themes).. One thing that Leo said struck me. He made a comment about how volunteers they get now aren't like they used to be in the past. It made me wonder if this wasn't a reflection of the self-serving nature of volunteering these days.

I wasn't able to see Luke today. He passed away a couple years ago, found dead in his apartment (complications of his diabetes?). If you refer back to that entry I wrote about Luke on my Xanga, you'll know why he meant so much to me. Praise God he is in a better place now. Till we meet again, my friend.


In case the link doesn't work, I've included the entry that I wrote on Luke below

Back in high school, I remember one of the last things that my mom "made" me do. Like everything else that I found myself coerced in (and what a blessing they were), I came away with much more than hours to record on college resume. My junior and senior years of high school I volunteered at Hinsdale Hospital in the SPD (supply department). The SPD was in the basement of the hospital and, really, wasn't exactly the most happening place. Back then, I didn't worry about having "engaging" experiences or complained about doing menial tasks. I was there to deliver supplies to the different floors--everything from long tubes to IV pumps. Sometimes I took the elevator, and other times, when I was bored and anxious, I would sprint up the stairs and time myself. Back in those days, things seemed much more carefree. My biggest anxiety was inviting my supervisors to a praise night at my church even though one was Catholic and the other was also a believer. The two supervisors I worked under were Leo and Luke. Tonight, I reflect on Luke. Luke Guralski was a middle-aged man of medium build. He liked to bike, which resulted in him getting into a pretty bad wreck, but he was, nonetheless, a rather robust and yet he struck me as a simple man. He was usually quite clean shaven and yet you knew, should he allow it, he could grow a pasture of a beard. He had a fiancee who suffered from bi-polar depression. There seemed to be an endless number of futile consults and medications in her history but to no avail. Luke himself had mental disorders of the type which would cause him to suddenly forget recent issues. He never completely described his full-fledged condition but I know that whatever it was, it caused neurological abnormalities and deep depression in a life that, for all intensive purposes, really didn't need any more. Because of his girlfriend's medical condition, marriage never materialized and even Luke realized the futility of the situation. Still, he wanted to stay committed to her even though she would try to push him away, and no doubt this took its toll emotionally on Luke even when he let go. The last time I talked with Luke was after my freshman year. I called his house and shared with him that I was going to China and that I wanted to give him a support letter. I remember talking that night and catching up on the how the last year had brought such new and unexpected things in our lives. That was the last time I talked with him. When I tried to call again, his number had been disconnected. Yet one thing that made Luke such an encouraging man was his faith in Christ. I saw his care and concern for those around him in the hospital. He was one who voiced his opinions and yet refrained from gossip. He spoke openly about truth and its importance in life, and though at the time, I might have considered his perspective rather naive, I look back at it an see it as refreshing. The last contact I had with him was a letter he sent to me with support for my trip to China. I knew that he did not make that much and yet he gave cheerfully. Yet his words in the letter, though I cannot recount them specifically, spoke even louder of God's faithfulness through his life to me. I came to the hospital to "do" community service, but I left it with an experience and glimpse of the divine work of which, as I sit here contemplating the future, I want nothing more than to be a part. There is always a part of me that would like to know where Luke is now, a part of me that wants to recapture the past for the sake of delaying the present and future. And yet, I suppose that I, too, must learn to let go.

Dark Knight

(Warning, possible spoilers below)

Okay. I admit it. I was sort of suckered in by the 94 percent rating that the movie had on Rottentomatoes. This was, in part, due to the fact that I was rather satisfied with the last movie I saw, The Visitor, that was rated a 93 on the same site. Additionally, almost everyone who I had talked to about the movie could only gush and rave about it ("Yeah, it's long, but you don't even notice").

I think many of my thoughts are stated already by this observant critic from the New Yorker.

To reiterate, the movie didn't really build after Joker is put in jail the first time--it just kept going (kind of like the Departed, plus about two endings), Christian Bale made Batman's voice kind of funny in a sad sort of way (I know Batman has issues but it's not like he's sick with strep throat), and the movie could have done just as much with less (less endings, less privacy-invasive sonar devices, etc.).

And finally, I was disappointed that Harvey Dent's death had to be covered up the way it was in order for the people of Gotham to have their hero preserved. Then there was that line about the people needing something more than truth (which, in the case, is a lie). I think this part is just as disturbing as the Joker's nihilistic tendencies. Let the people live their lives believing in something that doesn't exist (because we simply can't handle the truth that human nature is twisted). Still, I liked how Batman sacrifices his hero status for the sake of the city, becoming both protector and scapegoat.

Overall, the movie was entertaining but I know that's because I've been a Batman fan since childhood. I probably won't go see it again or even buy it. I'd almost prefer the first one over this one. Hopefully, the next movies will learn from past mistakes and try to weave together a story that is both compelling and, of course, entertaining.