The Year Level 5: ICC Year blog posts - stories and anecdotes, patient encounters and hospital drama, and the many colors of UP med school from the perspective of a third year. Here's the seventh entry, under our two-week Management in Health Care course.
In Management - possibly, but I'm not very sure [sarcasm], the most benign period of third year - we learn how to make houses out of index cards. The houses have to have windows and doors and second floors and chimneys that are cylindrical. They must also be able to withstand a five-inch drop; in other words, fall and still remain upright, thus proving that they can't be upturned by earthquakes or a Godzilla mole rat.
This is supposed to teach us the three kinds of leadership - autocratic, democratic, and uninvolved - and if that's a statement on unfinished Communist housing projects along some godforsaken road leading to the Gobi, then long live Mother China and may heaven be an ice cream parlor in snowy Vladivostok.
Our group was assigned under the tyrannical reign of T, and in his time, we produced four whole houses and some roofless ones (for kinky foreigners who wish to sleep naked under the September moon). Meanwhile, his friend P was the head of the democracy, and they made a replica of Ayala Alabang Village.
Recently, T and P, when they're not pretending to run make-believe governments, have developed a sort of special bond, like Ellen Page and Michael Cera in "Juno," but without the teenage pregnancy (because, well, T and P aren't teenagers). They have also asked me (and I have willingly agreed) to play the part of T and P's one and only son.
Meanwhile, we went to M. Roxas High School this afternoon for our second session with the kids. Guess what the topic was? It's times like this that make you wish we were a less uptight country or have a less hypocritical culture. One of the guys in my small-group discussion wanted to talk about homosexuality and sex change. Why, indeed, do we not have a separate session for this?
This is supposed to teach us the three kinds of leadership - autocratic, democratic, and uninvolved - and if that's a statement on unfinished Communist housing projects along some godforsaken road leading to the Gobi, then long live Mother China and may heaven be an ice cream parlor in snowy Vladivostok.
Our group was assigned under the tyrannical reign of T, and in his time, we produced four whole houses and some roofless ones (for kinky foreigners who wish to sleep naked under the September moon). Meanwhile, his friend P was the head of the democracy, and they made a replica of Ayala Alabang Village.
Recently, T and P, when they're not pretending to run make-believe governments, have developed a sort of special bond, like Ellen Page and Michael Cera in "Juno," but without the teenage pregnancy (because, well, T and P aren't teenagers). They have also asked me (and I have willingly agreed) to play the part of T and P's one and only son.
Meanwhile, we went to M. Roxas High School this afternoon for our second session with the kids. Guess what the topic was? It's times like this that make you wish we were a less uptight country or have a less hypocritical culture. One of the guys in my small-group discussion wanted to talk about homosexuality and sex change. Why, indeed, do we not have a separate session for this?
We're off to Butuan on Saturday for a five-day immersion with the Manobos of the Agusan Marsh. I wish.
No comments:
Post a Comment