Setting the Tone

Monday, my first day in the hospital, was also the last day for this batch of neurology residents, who have since moved on to their next rotation in the other branch hospitals. After an unexpected but entirely welcome day off (in observance of 삼일절, a celebration of a nationalist demonstration against harsh Japanese rule), I had the pleasure of witnessing the "initiation" of the new crop of residents coming on service.

The clocktower, symbol of Seoul National University Medical School, now a museum overlooked by the modern hospital. 아빠 trained here

Two minutes late to morning conference, and everything was already moving as if I was a half hour overdue. Once settled in my seat - the nearest available, and not at all in observance of the strict hierarchy of the seating arrangements - I slowly became attuned to the atmosphere. It was tense. Everytime a resident began to speak, a low rumble could be heard from the back of the room. "크게 말씀해," grumbled the lead attending in condescending half-speak, who, unfortunately, was also my assigned preceptor. The resident began to speak again, barely louder. "더 크게..." he grumbled again. This time, a brief awkward silence followed, broken only by the clacking of two walnuts, slowly orbiting in the vice grip of his palm; a nauseating metaphor despite its obviousness.  

Kind of a bad ass habit, I have to admit

Even within the Korean medical education establishment which, in general, is truer to the military-like hierarchy that once prevailed in the Western model, this attending is pretty intimidating to the residents. I find myself caught in the middle somewhere - knowing enough Korean and sensitive enough to the culture to appreciate the harshness of his demeanor during this morning report, yet officially being a foreign exchange student from the States who, for all our fleeting interactions, has enjoyed uncharacteristic kindness - laughter even - from this attending.

In fact, existing in this gray area may prove to be a boon. I don't stand out too much. I can blend in and keep under the radar. And if I play my cards right, I might even be able to disappear.

Too much good food awaits in the city of Seoul to be stuck eating lightening quick lunches in the hospital cafeteria.