There’s an Ethiopian game that consists of hanging up some clay pots full of various things (water, sugar, flour etc.) and getting blind-folded people to hit the pot with a stick until it breaks and they get covered in a surprise something. A bit like an Ethiopian version of a Piñata. Back in 2007 when I worked a the Myungsung Christian Medical Center (MCM, or popularly known as “the Korean Hospital”) the hospital’s third birthday was celebrated and (largely thanks to Gary and Peggy who were working there at the time) such a game was played. Mr Henry Moon, the South Korean hospital administrator was inveigled into playing and here’s a short video of the outcome:

Don’t feel too sorry for it – it was donated to an Ethiopian employee and would have been eaten before the weekend was out.

This remarkable hospital (the result of collaboration between the Ethiopian government and one enormous Presbyterian church in South Korea with tens of thousands of members) is the best and most reliable general hospital in the city. It has just celebrated its 10th anniversary and is still growing quickly. There is a desperate need for well-educated, caring doctors in Ethiopia so MCM has set up a Christian medical school (Myungsung Medical College or MMC) to supply such doctors and there are now three years of students studying there, the vast majority of whom are Ethiopian. A friend, colleague and mentor here, Dr Tim Teusink, teaches bioethics at the medical school and invited me to become a “mentor” for a group of five of the students. I meet them on Saturdays every couple of weeks and we get to talk over lunch about anything they like. Deference to seniority and respect for elders and teachers is ground into the Ethiopian culture so they often sit quietly, saying nothing, waiting for words of wisdom to drip from my lips. Two of my five students have just finished their first year and now they are able to see patients they need a white coat and a stethoscope. When I was in medical school I bought a short white jacket (only real doctors had long white coats) and went to a shop in Wigmore Street in London to get my first stethoscope. Not so here. Medical schools in the USA have introduced a “White Coat Ceremony”, a ritual that has spread to many other countries but has curiously avoided the UK. The MMC White Coat Ceremony took place this Saturday. Chris was invited too, and it was a great opportunity for her to see the medical school and the enormous church attached to it (which can easily hold 1000 people). The ceremony was in a smaller chapel (bigger than many UK churches) and was attended by several of the senior MCM doctors – many sporting their white coats with their names embroidered on. The students had actually dressed up for this, as had Dr Tim who was explaining the oath they were to take – he was resplendent in a striped bow tie.

As I describe what happened (there are several pictures and a video) think for a minute how this would go down in the UK.

After the opening speeches the second year students sang a hymn to the first years. The “prelude” was performed by the head of pathology and his wife playing “How Great Thou Art” on clarinet and keyboard. Whilst playing, the keyboard music stand fell apart and so the dean of MMC and a senior surgeon leapt up to rapidly reconstruct it helping her to continue uninterrupted (almost). Cheered on and clapped by their peers the first years were then cloaked in their white coats by Dr Kim (the Dean), and had their new stethoscopes symbolically draped around their necks by Mr Moon. After Dr Tim explained the history and nature of it, the students took an oath. It was unashamedly Christian, profoundly moving and if you are interested you can read it here.

An SIM colleague and friend Dr Rachel Nunn (who is now an associate professor of Family Practice in the Addis Ababa University medical school and she’s only been here 9 months) gave the students an encouraging and typically pragmatic talk (she’s Welsh) about the pleasures and pitfalls of going into a medical career. The “postlude” (first time I’ve ever used that word) was again played by the pathologist and his wife, and we went for lunch with Mr Moon. He is a humble man of astonishing achievement in getting this hospital to where it is and keeping it developing in the face of seemingly endless difficulties. My clinic’s “you don’t meet the standard” problem pales into insignificance in comparison.

It was an honour to be a part of this. The world needs Christian doctors devoted to their patients (living, dying or unborn) in a selfless and caring way.  MMC is dedicated to producing such doctors and has started doing so. May the seed they have planted go on to grow to achieve great things.

(There are a few more pictures in a small gallery - click here. One of them may be quite a surprise.)