Getting Ready for Deutschland

One summer, my dad took our whole family to Italy because he had a ton of American Airlines miles that he thought were on the verge of becoming worthless. World affairs being what they’ve been, he jokingly quipped, “Enjoy it. We may be among the last Americans who will be able to fly on an airplane anywhere, let alone Europe. You’ll tell your grandchildren what it was like seeing little buildings from way up in the sky.” Since then I’ve been to Germany, and I’m now preparing for my third time in Europe (fourth, actually: I was two years old and have almost no recollection), so let this stand as a warning to all you would-be Oracles. No telling what’s on that horizon.

I can say that I’ve seen Germany and Germans, but I haven’t seen these parts of Germany nor have I seen Germans practicing medicine so I’m very excited about this trip. Like Vincent Vega said in Pulp Fiction: “It’s the little things about Europe that are so different.” I think it’ll be the small differences between American and European medicine that will surprise me the most. The fun thing about catching those differences is asking myself, “What does this way do better? What does this way do worse? How did it come to be this way here and our way over in the states?” I think this will deepen my understanding and appreciation for medicine in a way that is simply not possible within our borders.

My main concern is one I have for any trip I go on. It’s not especially personal, but it is especially specific and I’m afraid that I couldn’t stand the irony of putting it into print only for it to come true. I’ll keep it to myself for now. A secondary concern is, already ironically, posting for this blog. The trial of putting thought and word into writing has never brought me joy. I know that’s a problem, I hope Dr. Wasser isn’t offended for me saying so, and I’ll suffer it like the little kid that knows the gross medicine is good for him.

“…to travel is to leave the inside and draw dangerously near the outside. So long as he thought of men in the abstract… merely as those who labor and love their children and die, he was thinking the fundamental truth about them. By going to look at their unfamiliar manners and customs he is inviting them to disguise themselves in fantastic masks and costumes. Many modern internationalists talk as if men of different nationalities had only to meet and mix and understand each other. In reality that is the moment of supreme danger--the moment when they meet. We might shiver, as at the old euphemism by which a meeting meant a duel.” I think I’m prepared for a little danger, how about y’all? I look forward to seeing all of you in Bonn, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of the holiday at home.