A Bit of Background

I have just realized that this blog, born in the middle of my 4th semester in med school, will be unclear without a background story. It would be like popping in the cinema in the middle of Iron Man 2: fun but confusing. (Although the dancing Ironettes in the beginning will give no help in getting you oriented anyway).

 

I have stated in my first post that I live in the Big Durian, Jakarta. I was born and raised here. As I grow up, I started to understand the chaos that runs the city. The maddening traffic, lack of open green spaces, oversupply of posh malls, and the thug-like hospitality of its citizens. I happily fooled myself into thinking that it will help develop stronger, more resilient men and women.

 

I am the first son with one younger brother who looks like a cuter version of Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine - or a hybrid of Hanuman and Doraemon, whichever appeals to your imagination. In contrast to what people think, my parents are not doctors. My dad works in a South East Asian bank, while my mom is a proud full-time mother. On the other hand, my maternal grandparents are doctors. Pediatricians, to be precise. They studied in the same university, in the same year, and both have worked in the same field: pediatric respirology.

 

My educational background is not so eclectic. From kindergarten through high school, I went to Al-Azhar 1. I could add that it is the one near the Great Mosque of Al-Azhar in Kebayoran, yet I don’t know how many of you would actually benefit from that info. It is an Islamic school, but generally works like a normal school with a few extra ‘Islamic’ rules. If you are asking right now: no, boys and girls are not separated; yes, we are allowed to act like the average teenagers; no, there is no such thing as an Underwear Bomb 101 class.

 

My journey to med school is a mix of daring and blessing. My test scores during the 3 years of high school afforded me a chance for direct application without any entrance test. I used that chance and daringly did not prepare a Plan B. Fortunately, I got one of the nineteen ‘no-test’ seats offered by the medical faculty.

 

Since then, life has been kind enough to surprise me everyday.