Better than Coincidence

Last Saturday, after my tiring but exciting day at ECHO (learning how to draw blood), I decided to go into Manhattan to do some shopping. Even the rain did not discourage me, and it soon stopped. I took it as a good sign. Before I left Einstein, I looked up churches near the area where I was going (Empire State Building area). There were two very close together, so I picked which one to go to based on the ease of finding Mass times online. I arrived around 5:00, perfect for the 5:15 Mass at St. Francis of Assisi. In I went.

Yet another church nestled between tall, shiny buildings. It's the kind of surprise that always makes me smile.

It's the best Mass I've been to so far in New York, I have to say. It felt like home. I'm not just saying that because it had the same name as my home church, or even because it happened to be the feast of St. Francis of Assisi (seemingly two coincidences which are at least interesting, if not more). It was also the feeling of community. The realness of the people. The thick New York accent of the lector. The soulful music shared by the whole congregation. The radiating warmth of genuineness. I felt at home there, even though it was only my first time there. I would like to go back.

The building itself was beautiful as well.

Later, I was also treated to my first nighttime view of the Empire State Building. I had not realized that they lit the tower in different colors each night until I read an article about a recent controversy: The tower had been lit in red one night to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the communist revolution in China. Obviously, not everyone was pleased about this, so there were protests and disgruntled New Yorkers. Anyway, the article also said that the tower is usually lit in white, but that different colors are used especially for holidays or other special celebrations. On Saturday night, don't ask me why, it was blue. I took a picture of the tower glowing in the nighttime mist...

...and then I went home.

Things That Made This Week Interesting

All throughout the week, I kept having experiences that made me think, wow, that was really cool/interesting/different. Being a busy little medical student, I didn't have a chance to write about any of them at the time, but here is a list of the things that I've done or the things that have happened that contributed toward this week being a good one:

- Interviewing my first "patient": Okay, the patient was an actor, but it was still an exciting challenge. On my turn, he decided to be irritated that I was just a student, rather than the real doctor; he was incredibly curt and sarcastic, but everyone told me I handled the situation well. I was able to get the information that I needed without getting flustered or frustrated, myself. Awesome!

- Einstein photo op: After a long class session, my friend Cat and I decided to take advantage of the beautiful afternoon and go take pictures of the campus. We're really lucky to have such a beautiful haven here in the middle of the Bronx.

Maybe later I'll post more pictures, but this is a taste of our surprisingly green, spacious campus.

- A successful case conference: Each week, we break into smaller groups to discuss a particular disease or case that relates to what we've learned in our Molecular and Cellular Foundations of Medicine (MCFM) course. This week, I felt really confident about my understanding of the interferon-gamma receptor and its relation to unusual sickness from mycobacteria. I even was complimented on my explanation of restriction digest results to the rest of the group -- score 1 for my summers at Mayo preparing me to understand the basic science of medical research!

- Making apple crisp: After a trip to the farmer's market during lunch hour, I was armed with some tasty Cortlands for my first apple crisp of the fall. New York has some decent apples, but I have to say I prefer Minnesota's selection. My roommates had never even heard of baking apples like Wealthy and Harralson before. Also, the Honeycrisps just aren't as flavorful out here. There's something to be said about the cold Minnesota winters and our spectacular apples.

Mmmm...combined with the banana bread from earlier, this apple crisp has solidified my reputation among my roommates and friends as the one who bakes -- and shares.

- First medical school final: Yes, final. We have officially finished the Genetics unit of MCFM. Next up: Immunology. But first, there's still the Histology midterm coming up this week.

- Playing the piano for the first time since leaving home over a month ago. I've missed it so much. It was a little weird playing the grand piano in Robbins Auditorium all by myself, but I got over it and stayed for an hour and a half.

- Preparing peaches for more crisp: The peaches that I had bought at the farmer's market were getting ripe, so I cut them up. They are now in the freezer awaiting their turn to bake. Something that is so beautiful about peaches is that not only is the skin colored, but underneath is also multi-toned.

So juicy, so ripe, and so pretty, even without the skin -- I love peaches.

- A tale of two Little Italies: Last night, my friends and I went to the famed Little Italy of the Bronx. We ate at Emilia's, a fantastic little restaurant on Arthur Avenue. It was across the street from Mario's, the restaurant where the famous scene with the gun-behind-the-toilet-with-the-chain-thing in The Godfather takes place. Then, today, I made my way back to the Little Italy of Manhattan for the San Gennaro procession. Since it was a perfectly warm and sunny fall day, the streets were packed with people. It was worth it for the zeppole and cannoli.

The statue of San Gennaro was brought through the streets, stopping at each stall so a blessing could be said.

As I mentioned earlier, the Histology midterm exam is coming up. I have not allowed that to stop me from taking my day off. Today has been filled with such excitement as making French toast for breakfast, shopping/browsing in Manhattan, meeting Andrea for the San Gennaro festival, going to Mass at the Most Precious Blood Church again, and watching some quality Arrested Development. I'm determined that tomorrow and Monday will be full of productive studying!

The Next Best Thing after Italy

After my visit to Ground Zero, I made my way toward Mulberry Street, the heart of the Downtown Little Italy. (The Bronx also has its own version of Little Italy; apparently there is a heated debate as to which one is better.) On the way, I passed by some cool-looking buildings. I didn't go into Trinity Church because I didn't realize how historic it was. Whoops. I did, however, stop briefly inside St. Andrew's Church, which is a beautiful little church located right next to the United States Courthouse (now called the Thurgood Marshall U.S. Courthouse, according to Wikipedia) and Foley Square. I also did not realize the importance of any of these places; I was simply attracted to the church because it looked cool. And the rain was picking up. And because I felt pleased with myself for being able to translate the Latin on the frieze.

Beati qui ambulant in lege Domini - always true, but even more appropriate given its location practically on top of a huge courthouse.

Afterwards, I continued my walk to Mulberry Street. Nowadays, Little Italy is being gradually crowded out by Chinatown, which surrounds the old Italian neighborhood. (Sidenote: I want to spend some time in Chinatown at some point, but my mission this week was Italian, so I mostly ignored the Chinese cultural opportunities yesterday. My process did not allow for forays into Asian territory...) This week, however, the Italians are hogging the attention: Next Saturday is the Feast of San Gennaro, the patron saint of Naples, and Little Italy is now in the midst of its annual 10-day celebration of the feast.

Each year, in Naples, the saint's blood turns from solid to liquid on his feast day. Also, prayers to San Gennaro are said to have averted destruction from the nearby Mount Vesuvius in the past.

Mulberry Street was a giant fair. Along the street was stall after stall of vendors, and all of the street's restaurants had set up extra seating in forward tents. Despite the rain, it was crowded with tourists (and locals) who had come for the great food and festal atmosphere.

A festive-looking Mulberry Street with a surly-looking Empire State Building partially covered by clouds in the background

I love all things Italian. I especially love the food. Luckily, I had planned to have a late/large lunch that day because of the timing of traveling to and from Manhattan as well as going to Mass. The only problem was choosing where to eat; what in the world could I base my decision on? Since I knew nothing about the area other than the fact that the festival was happening (clearly, this was one of many instances in which I was not prepared for the day), I had no background knowledge or experience to guide me to the best restaurant. I started glancing at the posted menus as I ambled past the restaurants' tents, and then I hit solid gold: one restaurant was advertising a festival special of $13 for a two-course lunch, and my favorite Italian pasta was listed as one of the choices for a first course.

Penne all'arrabbiata: so simple, but sooo good

Without even knowing the name of the restaurant, I asked to be seated, and I was given a table inside the actual restaurant (not the outdoor tent). I was disappointed at first since I would not be able to people-watch, as I had planned, but it turned out to be a nice break from the crowds. I had excellent bread, penne all'arrabbiata, eggplant parmigiana, a glass of Chianti, and an after-dinner cappuccino. (Sidenote: I took home my extra bread and used it to make French toast this morning. It was delicious.) The indoors location allowed me to relax, enjoy my meal at length, and do a bit of writing.

The cinnamon on the cappuccino was an unexpectedly tasty addition.

With a few hours to spare before Mass began, I wandered through the festival some more, taking my time to browse the shops and simply enjoy the sights, smells, and sounds. At one point, a small band marched past playing "That's Amore."

I especially liked their hats.

I loved the feeling of being surrounded by Italian pride, but it was not simply that. It was Italian-American pride. The descendants of the Italian immigrants who made New York their home beginning in the late 1800s are clearly proud of their heritage, as can be seen in the excellent restaurants, cafes, and shops that still line the Little Italy area. However, I would be willing to bet that most are just as proud of their American heritage and would be unwilling to leave the city. (It's probably a fair assumption, given that most are several generations removed from the original immigrants, at this point.) Case in point:

I haven't counted, but it seems the American and Italian flags are nearly proportional. At any rate, it looks like Christmas.

The vendors were colorful both to the eye and to the ear. Many beckoned the festival-goers to buy their treats: "Get yer sausages!" "We got pina coladas! Free refills!" "Try the cannolis!"

How's this for colorful?

Of course, all of the food looked good, but I was more than full after my abundant lunch. I did consent to a small sample of cannoli, though. How could I not? The last time I had cannoli was in Catania -- in Sicily -- the night I found out I was accepted at Einstein, and it was delicious.

Clearly this shop knows what it's doing when it comes to cannoli.

The last thing that I did before leaving Little Italy -- and Manhattan as a whole -- was go to Mass at the church that claims San Gennaro as its patron. The Most Precious Blood Church was beautiful inside, full of paintings commissioned in memory of neighborhood families with extremely Italian names.

Church of the Most Precious Blood, referring both to Christ and Saint Januarius (as we call him in Anglicized language)

Mass was surprisingly short, only 30 minutes, adding on to my week of really short Masses. I guess that's what you get when there's no homily or music. It ended with a procession to the front to kiss the relic of San Gennaro, which I hadn't known about beforehand. I was moved by the reverance expressed by the crowd who had gathered there to celebrate Mass and the beginning of the saint's feast.

As I walked to the subway, I picked up a whopping pound and a half of nougat, the ubiquitous white treat being sold throughout the streets of the festival. Later that night, my friends and I labored to hack through its surprisingly hard core so that we could enjoy tasty morsels of nuts and sugar that had the taste of marshmallows. This was the perfect supplement to the popcorn that we ate while watching (and making fun of) a ridiculous B movie about genetically engineered killer sheep. It couldn't have been a better day.

A pound and a half of nougat -- that's amore!

Taking a Sabbath

I've decided to do what many medical students would find unthinkable: Pending some kind of crisis or disaster, I'm going to take a day off every week. A day without studying -- no reading, no typing up notes, no cramming for quizzes, nothing. Happily, this allows me to do the other 2 things that I've been hoping to do as well: explore the city, and go to new churches.

There are several reasons why I'd do this. First, to keep my sanity -- there's no way I can possibly study every single day of the week without going crazy at some point. At St. Olaf, I found myself unable to take a day off, but I was much more involved with extra-curriculars that kept me occupied during the time when I would otherwise have been able to study. There was band, CSA, SPO, living in the house, TAing, and all those other little things that cropped up, and believe me, they were all worth it. Here, though, everything is much more medicine-related. Obviously, that's why I'm here, but I need to do other things to keep me focused.

That's the second reason for my day off -- to focus better. If I have a lot of time to get something done, I'm not productive. If, on the other hand, I have my day of relaxation and fun, then I'll be much more productive in the days surrounding it; it feels more like a reward and/or compensation for working hard.

The third and most important reason, however, has some interesting inspiration surrounding it. What I'm actually doing is taking a sabbath -- taking a day of rest, coinciding with the day of the week I go to Mass. We've always been taught from the Ten Commandments that the seventh day is holy, but for many people, all this means is that we go to church and maybe do something with our friends or family if we have time. More likely is that we use it to get caught up on whatever we fell behind in during the past week. I remember when Becca spoke at an SPO dinner about the importance of being committed to taking a sabbath -- not only for God, but also for ourselves, to allow God to rejuvenate us through our time of rest and reflection. I respected the message, but I thought, "No way, not possible, not for me. I have waaay too much going on to do that." But I saw through the following years how happy and peaceful she and my other housemates were throughout the week when they had their day of rest. Now I'm at a Jewish school. Many of my classmates are Orthodox Jews, and you'd better believe they take the Sabbath seriously. From what I understand, this means that they aren't even supposed to read books for studying (but leisure reading is all right). Well, if they can get through medical school -- and indeed, already got through college -- adhering to these kinds of practices, then why can't I? Why can't I have a day of rest as well, for reflection, relaxation, and rejuvenation?

The answer is that I can. I can and will have a sabbath. And I thank God for that.