Med Student vacation: truth or myth?

Well folks, I successfully finished my 1st year of Medical School and don't have to do the monster final exam, which means I'm already on vacation. 

As it happens, I have traveled a lot, but barely know my own country. So I thought I'd start to rectify that and go to a beach town up the coast, called Punta del Diablo, which I heard was amazing. 

And amazing it was. Miles of sandy beach, not too many people but just enough, perfect weather, great food, fun company. What else could I hope for? 

The pictures don't do it justice, really. The sunset was just a fantastic explosion of color and seemed to last forever. It was so peaceful! I really needed that after the crazy semester I just finished. 

We even had a big fire on Friday night and just sat around talking and hanging out until the wee hours of the morning. 

Unfortunately, I only had a few days. I had to go back home to finish all the things I need to do before flying to Europe in 9 days and then on to Chad!!

However, what isn't my surprise when I'm coming back to the city today, and get a message saying that my group's poster was selected to receive an award and asking who could go next Tuesday to present it!! 

So yes, I am *technically* on vacation, but it never really stops. They own us and if they say "jump!" the most we can do is ask "how high?" 

Shouldn't complain though, we worked hard on this project/poster and it's nice to be recognized. 

But as the tittle implies: Vacation? What's that? 

Where has the time gone?

And here I am, less than 3 weeks from the end of my first year of Medical School. It seems like a dream. It went by so fast, I can hardly believe it. 

I have learned a lot, but it only makes me realize how much I don't know. How much of a privilege and at the same time how crazy it is, that one day people's lives will be in my hands. When I'm learning something I don't particularly enjoy, I remind myself that what I'm learning now may someday make the difference in saving someone's life. And when it gets hard and I'm tired and cranky, I remind myself that I've never been happier and never so sure that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. That gives me renewed courage and strength to keep going and push a little harder. 

I have also done very well in all of my classes. I won't deny that sometimes I panic and wonder if I can make it, if I have what it takes. It's hard to need validation from my grades and hardly be able to breathe after each test, until I get the results and let out a big sigh of relief. School has never been like that to me, but then the stakes were never so high. Though my previous studies were something I liked, they were not my true calling. They were not something I could not imagine my life without. Medicine is it for me. 

Here's to hoping the next few years go as well as this one. And as fast!! 

Inadequate

It's funny how we think we've left those bricks behind, we've accepted that we belong and that we can do this... and then one single test can make us doubt all of that and wonder what the heck we're doing here, and who was it that let us in in the first place. 

I had a huge exam a few days ago. I studied *like crazy,* I was totally obsessed and was confident I knew the material very well. Then I went to the exam, and it was awful. It felt like nothing I studied was in there. There were no simple question-answer things, for every question you had to think it through and come up with an answer. 

I came out feeling like an idiot, thinking I had failed and had no business being in Med School. 

How is it that one test can bring up all those feelings I thought I had left behind? Nevermind that I did very well last semester, one test just nullifies everything. 

And then, I actually get the grade back. Scared. Can't even look at it. And then: I aced it!! I didn't just do well, I did *very well!* I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but I actually cried. Not really because I passed, but because I could shove all those feelings of inadequacy back to where they came from, and realize they're not based on evidence. They're based on fears. But no. I made it. I'm in. I'm doing well. I belong here, and nothing can stop me!!! 

Now it's back to studying so I can ace the next test. And the next one. And the one after that. 

Life cycles

Life's been good lately. So good that I haven't been writing much here. Isn't that usually how it goes? When there's too much going on, you don't have time to write.

I am now studying for exams later this week, and slowly starting to freak out. And procrastinating (by way of writing a blog post) is a sure sign of freaking out. 

 (How I feel under my pile of books)

I'm studying lots of biochemestry, you know, glycolysis, Krebs Cycle, Electron-chain transport, Fatty-acid oxidation, gluconeogenesis, etc. and there are a lot of cycles. Chain reactions. This thing activates that thing, which activates that thing... 

It all got me thinking about all the chain reactions that brought me here, right now. The domino-effect of our actions and decisions, that seemed so small and unimportant at the time, but have made us who we are and brought us to where we are. 

I guess all I'm trying to say is that I'm happy. Somehow all the dominos fell where they were supposed to--a place I could never have predicted--and the picture is complete. 

So besides the little stress of the moment which always comes with exam week, and the inevitable feeling of being overwhelmed, I have nothing transcendent to report. 

Happy life is boring from the outside. 😉

A year ago...

A year ago, I was in Paris, getting ready to go to Chad for the first time. I was excited and scared at the same time. I didn't know what to expect, but I was certain the experience would change my life forever. It did. 

It's impossible to convey the range of emotions I experienced in those 2 months. Joy, anger, happiness, helplessness, sadness, awe, excitement, gratefulness. I learned a lot on those two months, not only about medicine, but about life, about myself, my limits, my capabilities. 

I left saying I would go back. I know some people didn't believe me, but I always keep my word: today I bought my tickets. I am going back to Chad for 2 months, January and February 2016. 

I can't wait!! 

If you're the praying kind, please pray for me on this journey through medical school, and for Dr. Scott and Bekki, who are there on the frontlines, giving their all to serve others. 

Birthday thoughts

A friend of mine posted on my facebook page, a week ago, a happy birthday message saying she was posting ahead of time, so as to not add to the pain of reminding me it's my birthday. You see, I used to hate my birthday. *Hate it.*

But that's because I wasn't doing what I wanted. I was unhappy with my life, and every year that passed was only a reminder that I was wasting time, burning oxygen in a life without purpose. And that was painful. 

I actually remember a birthday where I had a party and finished crying on the couch on the shoulder of another friend, while the party went on around me. True story. Said friend might even ve reading this. 

Today finds me in a good place. I just scored a very expensive med book for a third of the price, and that makes me happy. I'm at Starbucks drinking a delicious mocha and they got my name right. I am doing what I have always known in my bones that I wanted to do. I have a beautiful apartment, a lot of close, good friends, people I love both near and far, and I am happy. 

Age doesn't matter. It's a number. What matters is that you are doing what you want, what gives purpose and meaning to your life. And as I've read not too long ago,

"Don't begrudge growing old. It is a privilege denied to many."

Hospital -- day 1

Now that I'm done with 1st semester, I can start going to the hospital. I'm technically on vacation, so I don't *have* to go anywhere. I want to. 

So I went, and made myself useful right away. It was great to see how they accepted my presence there and didn't make me feel like I was annoying or useless. 

Sure, the when the doc asked if I knew how to do an EKG, I looked at her blankly and apologized that I did not. She didn't blink though, just called an upper-level med student and told him **to show me**!!! Before that she had also heard a clinical arrhythmia and gave me her stethoscope so I could hear it too. And I did!!! 

I also came up with the diagnosis on my own. In my head, I didn't share it with the doctor. But she told me and what I had thought of was correct!! The patient had a bowel obstruction, not really that complicated to figure out, belly pain, not passing gas or stool for 5 days, big lump on belly. But it felt great to actually know what was going on!! 

The cause of the obstruction however, was still unknown. We handed the patient over to gen. surgery and they were going to get image studies to see what was going on in there. 

Anyway, I just wanted to give you all an update. This doctor thing is awesome. 

I'm definitely going back to the hospital next week!! :) 

Untapped

Today I got my last grade for the 1st semester of Medical School. It might seem like not such a big deal, but to me, it is huge. My school works a little differently than most: we have 2 midterm exams and then continuous evaluations that take homework, group projects and class participation into account, for each class. If we do well enough on all of those things, we don't need to take one FINAL exam of the semester, which is a monster exam with ALL the material of the ENTIRE semester for EVERY class.

I do not have to go to final exam. That makes me happy. It also makes me extremely relieved!!

However, I just saw a video that made me think: I shared a couple of months ago that even after I started med school, I was afraid I wouldn't cut it. I never doubted that this was what I was born to do... but was I good enough? Then there was a day when I realized I could do it, and I'll never forget it. But maybe there are other people out there who feel what I felt. Fear of not being good enough. Afraid to try because you don't want to fail.

Well, this video should speak straight to you. Don't be afraid. Work hard. If you want something hard enough, and you work hard enough and you don't give up, YOU CAN DO IT! Seriously! I did it. You can do it too.

Here's the video:

Thinking...

A few days ago I came across a list of questions which supposedly create intimacy between two people, even strangers. That's not the point of this post. The point is, one of the questions was "If you knew you were going to die in a year, would you keep doing what you're doing now, or would you change something about your life?"

And my immediate answer was "I would be on the next plane to Tchad, helping people and making sure my life mattered."

That brought up a few things, as you can imagine. I have a giant exam in a few days, and that's obviously stressful. And I do know why I'm doing this. Med school. I am quite clear on that, and I'm enjoying it. But... wouldn't my time be better spent learning by doing?

I don't ever want to feel what I felt when Salomé died in front of me in Tchad. I still tear up when I think of it. But is 6 years of book learning better than going off to the bush right now and seeing first hand... everything? Is a framed piece of paper (diploma) really better than 6 years of learning by actually working with patients and saving people on a daily basis?

In case you're wondering, I'm actually doing pretty damn good in med school. That's not why I'm thinking about all this. I just really miss Tchad, and all this book learning so far has taught me nothing I can use *in Tchad.*

I need to actually *do* something here pretty quick. I love books, but I'm going stir crazy.

Thoughts, anyone?

Last week of 1st semester

Hey guys,

Sorry for the radio silence. Med school kicked into super-sonic high gear lately, and I've barely had time to breathe. We had a major problem with our community, they were going to close the health center where we go!! But by sheer luck, we managed to talk to the right person at the right time and prevent it from closing (major win!!!)

I also had my mom for a visit, which is great, but eats up a lot of my time and it's not what you want, 10 days before finals. 

This week we have a million things to turn in, I'm currently on a bus to the community where we're giving a workshop to the school about sexuality (community has high rate of teenage pregnancies) and next week we get our "continuous evaluation" grades which will in part determine whether we have to take giant monster cumulative exam in  July or not. 

To say I'm stressed out is an understatement. 

But such is the joy and the pain of med school. Work hard. Help people. Sleep when you can. And we already accomplished more than I ever thought we would, with the health center. 

All in all, my first semester of med school flew by. It's tough, but that was expected. I'm loving it. 

Cross your fingers for me, so things go well on finals!!! :) 

The thing about stress...

We've been seeing a lot of things about stress lately, and how much it affects your quality of life, mental health and physical health in general. In Uruguay, the leading cause of death for those above 40 years old is cardiovascular problems.

Well, high levels of stress cause high blood pressure, increased heart rate and even mess with your cholesterol levels. Stress also disrupts sleep, which is what the body needs to recuperate and keep us healthy and sane. And I guess there's no need to mention that stress also damages our mental health and influence our lifestyles in a negative manner (people who smoke and/or drink, usually smoke and/or drink more when they're stressed, don't have time to exercise or relax, etc.)

For the two weeks before my exam, I was very stressed. I wrote about this a couple of posts down, but I didn't give many clear examples. You guys, I was really stressed. I was yelling at people for no reason. I was not sleeping well, which made me tired and cranky on top of stressed. It was not good. And the worst part was that I knew I really didn't have to be that worried about the exam, because I had been studying and knew the material, but I could not reassure myself.

So this time, I am trying to do things differently. I have 3 1/2 weeks before my second midterm, and my goal is to not become a horrible stressed out person. I made myself a schedule and I'm keeping strictly to it. It includes time to relax, time to go for a walk/run, time to see friends. Obviously, it includes lots of time for studying. But I think that if I keep to my schedule and remember that my study techniques apparently work (so far, cross your fingers!), I can keep the stress at bay and make it through the exam and on to my month off in July (here's hoping!).

This schedule, of course, may not be the "stress cure" for everyone, but I think it might work for me. I just want to encourage each of you, whether you're a med student, doctor, nurse, or nothing at all related to medicine, but as all human beings, still vulnerable to the stress of life: Try different things and see what works for you. There are lots of different things that can help with stress management, and definitely improve your health and quality of life. Your present and future self will thank you. Chances are, your friends and family will too. 

The day after...

the midterm exam, that is. It was a beautiful day, sunny, not a cloud in the sky. Warm. The exam took me 2 1/2hrs (we had 3 1/2hrs total, so ample margin!) and started at 9, so I got home around noon. Changed into a bikini and a beach dress, grabbed a book and some sunscreen, and spend the afternoon on the beach, **reading a book** that had nothing to do with medicine! (Only my med-student friends will understand what this means. Oh, it was heaven!

Then I slept for about 10hrs.

And then, I got on a bus to go to Valizas, a place on the coast of Uruguay, which only has wild beaches and barely any houses or people. It was 36hrs of walking through nature, collecting delicious edible mushrooms, cooking, talking to friends, and generally just relaxing. I even turned off my cell phone for the 36hrs, in order to really disconnect from school. I knew they would be posting the answers to the exam soon, and I didn't want to see that.

Came home late at night and very tired, so I slept like a rock (for 5hrs!) and got up the next morning to start all over again. That's when I finally checked my answers and realized I had done very well on the exam. :)

Now, until the next exam, I have a little breathing space. It's only a month, but I'll take it! 

Mid-terms and stress

Just a quick post about my midterm exam: 

It's stressful. Very stressful. This is a 3-hr exam that covers ALL of the material of EVERY class we've had so far. 

The way my school is organized, we have 2 midterms and if we have an average of 80% on the exams, plus 80% on the "continuous evaluation" which includes all of homework, presentations and participation in class (and is completely subjective, which I hate!!), you get a month's vacation in July. 

If not, you have to prepare for a 3rd exam in the 3rd week of July, which covers all of the material for the entire semester. 

Folks, remember this is med-school. That well-known metaphore about drinking from a firehose is a great illustration. So the material for the entire semester, in one killer exam? I'd rather not, thanks. 

Hence why I'm currently stressed out and studying so I can get the best possible grade on this midterm. If I get less than 80%, I can forget about my chances of not going to Final Exam. It also doesn't help that my otherwise adorable kitty is going through puberty and decided to wake me up in the middle of the night, every night, meowing at the door of my bedroom. (She can't get spayed yet, she will as soon as they let me!) 

Wish me luck. I'm really stressed out, and I really shouldn't be. I know my stuff. I have been studying. But since it's the first exam, I'm not sure what to expect. 

Yey! Med school! Just 3 more years of this (before clinics)! 

P.S.: Can I please just poke somebody with a sharp object? I feel like if I don't get to handle a needle or IV line until December, that I might explode. 

1st year of med school and community work

Little background: I’m a 1st year medical student in Uruguay, a tiny country at the bottom of South America. My country has recently had a major change in its health care system, which, although was always free, it did not reach 100% of the population, and like the majority of healthcare systems in the world, it was not based in primary healthcare (PHC) or promoting health and preventing disease. (You can read more about PHC here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Primary_health_care)

When the healthcare system changed, the medical education also changed, to adapt to the new system. And let me tell you something—it is awesome! 

Throughout our clinical years, and since the very beginning, we are divided into groups of 28-30 students and given a poor, sometimes rural community to work with. It is our entire responsibility to go to the community, get to know the people there, the clinic doctor, the schools, understand the politics, the needs, and come up with a plan to improve it. 

First year of medical school is pretty boring. We are cramming our brains full of facts, when we really got here because we wanted to work with people. Help people. Well, with this program, going to the community once a week, gives us the opportunity to do just that. We learn how to see people as a whole, to discover all the things that influence their health, not just to see their disease. We start out by doing an epidemiological survey of the population – I confess that I had no idea what that meant. I’d heard the word “epidemiology” before, but if I’m honest, I had no real understanding of what it was. Now, not only do I know what it is, and why it is important, I am actually doing it myself.

They have a pizzeria!!

My community has a population of 2,852 people, only 2 paved roads, one tiny clinic open from 8am-6pm Monday through Friday, with one doctor and one nurse. You know what? They are **happy** to see us come. They want our help. They’re also happy to teach us. We get first-hand experience, and start helping people from day one. 

This is the CAIF- "Centro de Atención a la Infancia y a la Familia" -- help center for children and families.

They get excited students with lots of energy and the desire to change the world. We’ll do health education talks, sexual education talks, we’re planning an exercise program, we want to resurrect their football team (which died last year for lack of participation), we’ll go to the youth center and help the kids there, and to the primary schools and treat the kids for parasites (apparently an appalling percentage of the kids here suffer from intestinal parasites). We get to do stuff, impact a whole community and see the results of our work. And to me, that’s what this med school thing is all about.

Bikes and a sign for a junk yard

So here’s my advice to you, if you’re in medical school or pre-med and planning on going to med school: go to a rural community. Find a little town close to where you live, go to the clinic there and talk to the doctor. Ask him if you can help. Get involved and really put your heart into it. Not only can you make a real impact in that community, you’ll get a lot of experience, you’ll be a better doctor, a better human, and if all of that weren't enough, I’m pretty sure it’ll look great in your resume.

Learn before you do

I think the most frustrating part of med school for me is the fact that there's a lot of learning but not a lot of doing. Obviously, that makes sense. You can't throw the average 1st year medical student into the deep waters of a hospital and expect them to swim. Or not kill anyone. However, I'm not your average 1st year. And please, don't misunderstand me, I'm NOT saying I'm better than anyone. I just have more experience than most 1st years. I've worked in hospitals before (on a different capacity, but I've learned a lot). I have gone to Tchad.

I don't have a lot of the book-knowledge that you acquire in medical school (and which I'm acquiring now), but I have a lot of practical experience. I know how to put in an IV, the steps for an above-knee amputation, how to poke my index finger and find an inflamed prostate inside the belly of a 60-year-old man. Those are things your average 1st year does not know. They simply had no opportunity to learn it yet.

Most 1st years, and indeed, most doctors, haven't seen refugee camps in poor African countries. It's hard to wrap your mind around a population of 140,000 people suffering from everything under the sun (malaria, intestinal parasites, typhoid, high blood pressure, tuberculosis) and one doctor with barely any supplies, to try to help them.

I'm not making much sense in what I'm writing, sorry. What I want to say is that I miss Tchad. I miss doing things and seeing the improvement of people's lives. And I want to do so much more. There are more and more people forced to leave their homes, fleeing conflicts in several African countries, CAR, Burundi, Nigeria and becoming refugees. I feel useless and powerless.

But that just motivates me that much more, to be the best student and become the best doctor I can be, to bring the best help I can give. Learn before you do. I am learning now, but I cannot wait to go back and do.

A moment of truth...

So here we go... 

I think **one** of the reasons I didn't go to med school earlier, is because I was afraid I'd never get in. I'd never make it, so I might as well not try. 

When I was a freshman in college, I was the TA for my chemistry class, and I got a C in one of the lab write ups. The teacher, an old German dude, came to me when I was working in his office and said "you think you can get into med school with C's? You can't. You'll never make it." Folks, it was a lab write up. I did NOT get a C in that class, but the damage was already done. His words stuck with me to this day, 15 years later. 

I eventually changed my life and decided to pursue a career in something completely unrelated to medicine. It was not because of what that professor said, but I am *sure* I would not have given up so quickly, if I hadn't had his words echoing in my head and that horrible feeling that I just couldn't make the cut. 

So I graduated, got a job in Germany, (one of those real, grown up jobs) and started to settle into "grown up" life. Until I realized I wasn't happy. That my job did not make me happy. That I was not making the world a better place, and if I wasn't there, at my job, nobody would even notice. 

That realization came when I was 29 years old. Not an easy moment to face, even in the best circumstances... 

So I had a mini life-crises, questioned everything, and realized that the only consistent dream I had ever had, was to become a doctor. And thought it was insane. Crazy. No way could I do it now! 

Luckily, I have a couple of really good friends, who heard my rants, held me while I cried, and assured me that yes, I could do it. That if it was really what I wanted, not only *could* I do it, but I *should* do it! 

That brings us to today. Getting into med school is not easy, and it actually took me a little while from when I made the decision to this day. I am in my first year of medical school. Until today, I wasn't really sure I could make it. Today that has changed. I belong here. I am not only going to be a doctor, I'm going to be a great doctor. Dr. F (the chem teacher)'s words may have done a lot of damage, but they weere not true. I'm here. I made it. And I'm not nearly done! 

Watch out world! :) 

There's a song that fits perfectly with this post: "Let it be" by Superchick -- check it out! 

Three weeks in...

Sorry folks, there's a bit of an adaptation to be made at the beginning of anything, and Medical School definitely requires a bit of adapting. 

But here I am. I made it through the first three weeks, and I'm happy. So far, honestly, there's nothing really difficult, there's only a LOT of stuff. They throw everything at us, and a giant bibliography for every class, that we have to read, summarize, and post on the online forums for each class. That is also graded. Then we have homework. Then we have one exam a week, on Fridays, which are a compilation of everything we learned that week in all classes. 

We're learning a lot of concepts in public health, like equality in healthcare, the right to Health, the determinating factors of Health. And bioethics. Also, communication technics for how to conduct an interview (HPI). In a week we actually get to conduct our first interview with a member of the community (not a paid actor!) where we'll be working with health education, primary care, prevention, etc. They really do throw us straight into the deep end to see if we can swim. 

But I was expecting this. And I must say, I really like that we have a test at the end of each week, because it helps me to keep on top of things with somewhat manageable amounts of material, as opposed to having thousands of pages and concepts to go through at the end of the month. Hopefully I'm not forgetting things right after the test! (I'm not, actually!) 

So, that's what's going on this side of the world. How are you all doing? How was your beginning in Med School?

The First Day of Med School

I think I mention elsewhere on this blog, that I had a different life before. I have a degree, had a different career and studied and lived in several European countries, as well as in the US, Brazil, Argentina and currently in Uruguay. 

If you add all that up, you can probably figure out that I'm not in my early 20s, much less straight out of High School (here, like in a lot of other South American and European countries, you start med school straight out of high school, but it lasts 6-7 years. Your undergrad is included into the medical training). This means I am older than 100% of my class, by at least 10 years. 

In some ways, I think this is awesome, they're all panicky, never gone to college, have no life experience and some had never even seen "the big city" before. They're lost and overwhelmed by the newness of it all, being away from family for the first time, etc. 

I, on the other hand.... well.... You can read a little about me on the rest of this blog. Suffice to say I was not overwhelmed by anything related to starting Med School. 

However, when I was getting to that amphitheater, shuffling along with the crowd of youngsters, I had butterflies in my stomach. It was the introductory and welcome talk, so no big deal, right? Wrong. 

The big deal was that I was actually here. That the dream I've had for the last 30 years is finally coming true. That after all the struggles and sacrifices I had to make, I am finally a med student. 

And it is AWESOME. 

However, being older than everyone *including the teacher* might take a little getting used to... (She's more like a tutor for our Problem Based Learning days, but still!!) 

*edit-- just remembered that in my other life, I was actually working at a University and was younger than some of my students. I guess the tables are turned! 

The *actual* beginning

Hi everyone, I'm back, and I think a slight explanation might be in order, as to the question: "she calls herself a medical student but seems like she's in a different country every other day. How is that possible?"

Well, last year I left my beautiful life in Berlin, Germany, because I was assured, after asking everybody that had anything to do with it (the med school back home, the dean of admissions, etc., etc., etc.) that I could start med school in March 2014. 

So I packed my bags, arrived in Montevideo, Uruguay (that's where I'm from), rented an apartment and prepared to start school. 

After all of that, however, they managed to come up with a stupid bureaucratic reason to find fault with my paperwork, and to rectify that, unfortunately, took months. And they did not allow me to start without solving that first. 

I was very pissed off, almost got myself on a plane back to Germany, cried, consumed massive amounts of chocolate, and then calmed down. A bit. Enough to realize that this might be a blessing in disguise and that I could use this time to my advantage. 

This is when I contacted the doctor in Tchad and asked if he wanted a volunteer. And how I planned a trip for the last 6 months, possibly the last block of that much free time I'll ever have. 

However, now I'm back, and there's no paperwork crap this time. It's actually happening. I'm T-4 days from the very first day of Medical School, a day that, if I'm honest, I've been dreaming about for at least 24 years. Seriously. You can only imagine how excited I am. I think ecstatic would be a better word!!! 

Wish me luck!! 

Tchadian Flashback

I am back to Uruguay now. That's where I live, despite my 6 months of traveling last year. I had to find a new apartment, because obviously there was no way I was going to pay rent for 6 months without actually being here.

But I did. I found a great place and I'm super happy about it. Hopefully I'll be able to stay here until I can buy my own place.

Moving sometimes is complicated though, and this time had its ups and downs. Today was the first day I really felt like I lived here, and I went to the grocery store and bought all the things I needed to stock up the cupboards and the fridge. Then I thought I'd make myself a nice little dinner. And I remembered something...

Back in September, a friend of mine took me to a restaurant in Tchad, to eat chicken. That's all they had,  rotisserie chicken. Which you eat with your hands. And they give you a metal tray, like cafeteria tray, with a bit of bread, a bit of salad, and some spices. You're supposed to dip the chicken on the spices and eat it.

I had one bite, and I was hooked. It was fantastic!! Not the chicken, the spices! Well, both. I had to know what that was. I asked, but the guy who knew what it was wasn't there, so I came back a few days later and asked him. He told me it was a mixture of several things that he made himself.... I was a bit disappointed, I had hoped it was something I could just buy and take home. He said: "Wait here. I'll be back!"

I waited for maybe 15 minutes, until he came back with a ton of little packages full of different spices. He dropped them all on a table, then started picking up one by one,  smelling it, and telling me what it was, while I wrote it down.

Then he opened them and mixed a bit of this, a bit of that, all in front of me, showing me how to do it. And if all of that wasn't enough, at the end, he put the entire mixture into a little plastic bag and handed it to me.

 Incredible!!! And so nice! And delicious!

So today, when I thought about cooking, I remembered those spices, brought all the way from Tchad. And my food tasted like a little bit of Tchad.


I miss it....