Zanzibar Papasis

The fourth day of our “vacation” started with a ferry to Zanzibar Island, off the coast of Tanzania. Though an official part of the country, it has its own government – including its own president.

The Lonely Planet Guide to East Africa says this place never fails to retain an exotic edge, and I can see what it means. With its mix of African, Indian, Arabic, and Western cultures, there’s always an element of the exotic and unfamiliar.

The island has been flourishing since the beginning of the first millennium as a trade post for Arab and Persian merchants. However, with the advent of the Omani Arabs, Portuguese, and the English, the island has experience several cultural and economic transformations.

One interesting unfamiliar part of Zanzibar is the street touts, known in Swahili as papasi (literally means “ticks”). From the moment we stepped foot on the island, they bombarded us with offers to sell paintings, shirts, goods. Some became our unofficial tour guides without permission, only to ask for a hefty tip in the end. It can be very frustrating, especially when we desired to just walk around and enjoy the city in peace. Even if you say, “no, I’m not interested.” It’s just an invitation for these men to work even harder for the sale – at as high a price as possible.

Fortunately, it gave me a chance to practice my remedial Swahili. I learned how to say, “Hapana, bwana” (No, sir); “Hapana, lakini asante” (No, but thank you); and “Niache tafadali!” (Leave me alone, please!).

Dispite the pushy papasi, I really enjoyed our hotel, looking around Stone Town, and enjoying a cup a Chai at the Stone Town Café. We even watched the US v. Ghana soccer game at a local sports bar, but not before enjoying the sunset at Forodhani Gardens.

I can get used to this place.

A whole new world

After shorter, five-hour flight, we’ve arrived in Dar Es Salaam, the largest city in Tanzania. The airport was filled with people, chaos, confusion, and worry. The entire airport only had two luggage carrousels, of which only one was used, which meant tons of luggage in a little space and tons of anxious time that passed before our luggage finally appeared. Luggage theft occurs very often in airports like these. It’s a very scary thought. Make sure you keep your eyes on everything.

After we finally left the airport, scores of men in white shirts approached us with candid greetings of hello and aggressive offers for cab services. After bargaining our price for two cabs to the downtown region for twenty thousand Tanzanian shillings per car, we were off to the Jambo Inn, a cheap hostel frequented by Cornell students.

After checking in, collapsing, unpacking, resting, and reminiscing, we found the energy to explore the town as night approached. No sidewalks, street signs, or traffic lights existed. To cross the street, all you needed was aggression, awareness, and a little stupidity. Since Tanzania is just south of the equator, the sun had set much sooner than we initially expected—around 6pm.

“Nice to see you again! How are you?” we had heard from two Tanzanian men who had caught the attention of one of the female travelers. “You’re Canadian, right?”

“No.”

“ahh, you look just like someone we met earlier.” I grew suspicious.

After some conversation, the two men, George and Lucas, guided the six of us to a bar where dancing took place. We got some Tanzanian beer. A waitress recommended Ndovu beer. I really enjoyed the flavor and the relaxation that accompanies drinking a beer on a different continent.

George and Lucas were nice guys who talked to us about everything, from what to do in the city to the falling approval rating of the Tanzanian president. However, I wasn’t born yesterday. Two strangers from the street don’t just drop everything to hang out with seven obnoxious Americans just for the fun of it. They wanted to make a quick buck or two.

I decided to buy a painting from them, and we planned to tip the guys tomorrow when they help us get ferry tickets to Zanzibar.

Fun!

Consumerism with an Arabic Twist

After at 13.5 hour-long flight, we arrived in the city of Dubai. 20 years ago, it was the desert-equivalent of a hole in the ground, yet the city has been spiraling upward like the Tower of Babel. As we rode through the city, we observed scores of skyscrapers under construction. In the looming distance, the Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building (that just opened this January) graced us with its presence.

We managed to get a pleasant looking apartment-style room with 7 beds (for seven travelers). It looked amazing for only $33 dollars per person per night.

After our arrival, we dropped our luggage off and set off on a self-guided tour, which revealed two sides of the city. First, we visited the Golden Sok, or gold market, in the older part of town. The streets were full of small shops filled with crafts, jewelry, tea, and men who were eager to make a sale—at whatever price necessary. I regret not buying a silk shawl, which would have cost around 30-35 Durbon (so about 10 bucks).

After a long cab ride, we decided to return the Burj Khalifa’s initial greeting with a visit of our own to it's mall right below. The city’s aurora changed completely. Small independent shops were replaced with Bloomingdales, Prada, Starbucks, California Pizza Kitchen, etc. The prices were the same as in a New York or Las Vegas mall, except for the electronics, which was much more expensive.

Some friends of mine traveled to the to the top of the tower. Here's part of the view:

I was especially intrigued by the advertisements. Everything was in English and Arabic, including this Bulgari ad that was all over New York, now with Arabic writing.

With the financial crisis of 2007-2010, Dubai was in danger. As companies failed and people lost their jobs, construction projects have been suspended and foreigners have been fleeing the country to escape debtor’s prison. (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/12/world/middleeast/12dubai.html)

Who knows if Dubai will continue to boom economically again—now, I just want to be in Africa.

More articles:

(http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/28/business/global/28dubai.html?_r=1)

(http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/28/business/28markets.html)

Flanking Vacations

I know it has been an egregious four months since my last update, but I guarantee you that WolverineDoc still lives on. This past Friday marks the end of my first year, and the beginning of summer travels and personal journeys. The time and the effort required to simultaneously conquer the course load and handle my family issues have taught me a lot about time management, confidence, focus, and drive.

This summer will present a new series of challenges: travel and homesickness.

Our medical school has sponsored a summer trip to a medical institution in Tanzania to conduct research and gain clinical experience. I’m curious to see how health care is practiced in developing countries.

Our trip starts with a “vacation.” We planned a layover in Dubai for 24 hours followed by an excursion on the beaches of Dar es Salaam and Zanzibar for 2-3days. Then, after an 8-hour bus ride to Moshi, Tanzania will our actual “trip” commence for 7 weeks. To add more spice to my journey, I’ve decided to end this experience with another “vacation” in Istanbul, Turkey, where a really good Turkish friend of mine will meet me.

I’ve never left the country before.

And no, Canada doesn’t count.

I plan to use this blog to recount my experiences. Stay tuned.

February

I haven't been able to post that much this February. It was filled with exams, stress, trips to Michigan, pre-health conferences, stress, event planning, script writing, and yes, stress. I will elaborate further in later posts.

Now, I'd just like to share an interesting wiki that describes reading chest x-rays. We just learned about this, so I'm enamored with its clear stepwise explanation.

http://www.wikihow.com/Read-a-Chest-X-Ray

What's ironic is that I find this after our exam on the thorax.

How psychiatrists determine your normalcy

What disappointment! On Wednesday, February 10, the American Psychiatric Association released a draft of the DSM V, where the controversial Gender Identity Disorder (GID) still exists.

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) is a book of psychiatric disorders for the use of mental health professionals. Within its pages, you’ll find “official” definitions of diseases that afflict the mind, like depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, anorexia nervosa, etc. Psychiatrists, Psychologists, and social workers use this manual and its semi-strict systematic guidelines to diagnose diseases.

It’s not perfect, but it has its uses – one of them: discrimination.

2012 will see the publication of the manual’s fifth edition (the DSM V), the first edition having been first published in 1952. The long, complex revision process involves examining each classified disorder, adding new disorders, removing unnecessary ones or altering criteria.

For example, until 1973, the DSM classified homosexuality as a mental disorder. That means before 1973, physicians, employers, lawmakers, could justify homophobia by saying that gay men and women literally had an “illness.” This monumental change granted gays, lesbians, and bisexuals a legitimate normalcy.

Today, most psychiatrists view homosexuality as a “normal” lifestyle, which can’t be said for our transgender brothers and sisters. Most people who identify as transgender feel as if they were born in the “wrong body.” They feel a strong – almost debilitating – desire to become a member of a different sex or gender. (male/female; man/woman) The current edition of the DSM (the fourth edition) classifies this desire as Gender Identity Disorder (GID). This pathologizes those who desire to change their sex and/or gender expression to become more comfortable with themselves. They haven’t been granted normalcy... yet.

This issue has sparked a movement to remove Gender Identity Disorder from the DSM’s fifth edition. Among many arguments, some claim that the existence of GID places a label – a pathologic label – on a diverse array of lifestyles. After several years of complaints, suggestions, reform, and patience, the rough draft of the DSM V still has GID. American Psychiatric Association’s disregard shows that transgender activists have more work to do.

Many mental health professionals, physicians, and activists hope the committee reconsiders the inclusion of GID before 2012 and grants transgender individuals their medical normalcy.

Resiliency

In between anatomy exams, I found time to watch African-American Lives, a PBS series that tracks the unknown ancestors of several famous African-Americans, including Dr. Mae Jemison, the first woman of color to go into space.

I’ve always dreamed of being an astronaut. After some investigation, I found an article of hers in the New York Times that discusses her experience as a black female in a white-male-dominated engineering program:

“Majoring in engineering, I would have maybe one of two or three African-American students in my classes. Some professors would just pretend I wasn't there. I would ask a question and a professor would act as if it was just so dumb, the dumbest question he had ever heard. Then, when a white guy would ask the same question, the professor would say, ''That's a very astute observation.''

These challenges are not uncommon among black students in higher education – even today. I, a black student, experienced similar issues in my science courses – seeing other students avoid partnering with me during projects, being talked down to by professors, hearing surprise/disbelief when I do well or understand a difficult concept. I know Dr. Jameson had it worse, and it inspires me to see her succeed despite those challenges.