Coming To America... II

II. THE IMGs

Four of us sat at the very front row. The fixed-slope seating design was pretty cool and I guess was so done to maximize one's line of vision no matter where one sat. It also offered easy access to each seat making it possible to enter and leave one's place with minimal disturbance to other students. During the first five minute break, some people began mingling. I suspected they had already met one another before today. I got out of my seat and folded the table- it was one of those old-fashioned desk-chair things. Well, it was sure better than not having enough seats for students; at home we were ever sharing chairs and desks. If you came late, you'd be left standing. Pushing thoughts of my country to the back of my mind, I headed for the toilet. The Russian girl who had been sitting to my left in the hall bumped into me on my way to the restroom. Hi, I'm Inga. I'm from the Ukraine. Her words were softly and carefully spoken, and although hesitant, her diction was clear. I'm Chike from Nigeria. See you back in class. The bathroom door opened as another student exited and I walked in.

Reentering the class a short time later, I found Inga engaged in conversation with the other two students sitting up front. Eleni was from Thebes, Greece originally and had attended the University of Athens Medical School. Athens was almost one hundred kilometers from her hometown. Its university, formally referred to as National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, is said to be the oldest in Greece, the Balkans and in fact the entire eastern Mediterranean. It was founded in 1837 and caters to over fifty thousand undergraduate students. Needless to say, this institution has undergone extensive advancement since those early days. Eleni graduated twelve years ago and came to America that same year. This meant that she never worked as a physician. She joined the New York City school system and had spent the last ten years teaching high school science. This was never meant to be a new career path and she had only stuck it out this long as a way to earn a living; a means of survival in this country where all people did was pay bills. Her husband had joined her three years after Eleni arrived in this country only to leave her five years later. Still separated from him, she remains involved in her two son's lives. Eleni was slightly stocky at five feet and five inches tall, with a cheerful average-looking face. She had that lovely Middle Eastern complexion and spoke English fluently. After all, she had gotten both a Bachelor's and a Master's degree from the University of Iowa long before she had considered medical school . Now at the age of fifty-two she was extremely experienced and well-read.

Lori was the other girl. Actually we were all women but permit me to use girl interchangeably. Lori was a caucasian American with Italian ancestry. She was slender, slightly taller than Eleni and had messy fair hair. At thirty-eight she had graduated from Ross University's medical school in the Dominican Republic five years ago. Her father was a prominent orthopedic surgeon in Upstate New York who had been in private practice for almost forty years. Her mother had a successful nursing career, working with her husband part time and for a Teaching hospital the rest of the time. Two unsuccessful attempts to pass the board exams had really discouraged Lori and she often wondered: For how long will my life be on hold? Paying for this course was a heavy financial burden and she sure hoped it would be worth it. Seated behind us was a conservatively dressed black woman whom Lori asked to join in the conversation. She was the same age as Eleni but her story was quite different. Asha finished medical school in 1980. Upon completion of specialist training in Obstetrics & Gynecology, the young doctor had gotten a good job with a big village hospital in Mombasa where she spent many years. Unhappy about leaving, Asha had made the difficult decision to relocate to America after getting married to a school teacher who lived in Brooklyn. All this occurred five years ago and she remembered how very hard the transition had been; adjusting to a rather different way of life had taken all of five years. Fortunately, all thanks to God, she was finally ready to move forward in her profession. She had failed the board exam and decided to enroll in this preparation course to increase her chances of passing the next time around. Her husband was forced to take out a loan to afford the tuition and this made Asha extremely sad. Still, she had to get through this and she believed that God had a purpose for her life.

This is Chike. I met her in the ladies' room just now. What about you? Inga asked, turning from addressing the small group to face me, watching for a reaction. Not one to warm up easily to strangers, I summed up my life for them: I came from Nigeria. I graduated in 1998 and after a year each of internship and national service I worked for a mission hospital for two years, then a Non-Governmental Organization for another two years. My dream was to get into Family Medicine and start my career afresh in this country. That was indeed my life in a nutshell. You look so young, Inga commented before finally telling us a bit about herself. Thirty-four, I interjected. Inga had attended medical school in Moscow and worked for many years as a pediatrician- neonatologist to be precise. She struggled with the English language and always carried her Russian-English dictionary with her. She was happily married and lived in Missouri with her husband and college-aged son, both of whom she missed dearly. They had emigrated to the U.S. in 2000 and she had been etxremely fortunate to find work with a visiting nurse service. The team would go door-to-door to visit patients for follow-up care. Unable to borrow from a bank, her husband's friend and loaned them the money to pay for this course. Tuition alone was nine thousand dollars. Not to talk of the cost of housing, feeding & maintenance, transportation, etc. She dared not think about it further lest it trigger an anxiety attack.