Why I'm not applying abroad...

I'm posting this because I'm sick of people asking me why I'm not applying abroad for college. Is it because I get embarrassed? No, though I probably would be if there weren't others like me. At the end of the day people like me are in the majority in my school. There is some comfort in numbers. I'm writing this article so I don't have to repeat the whole thing ad infinitum to every Tom, Dick and Harry who pops the question, “Yaar, why aren't you applying abroad? You'll get in easily.” Now I'll just tell them to check out my blog. I save a lot of breath, plus do some pretty shameless self promotion for it. In fact, one of the people I hope sees this is my school college counsellor, so she can understand where I'm coming from. Trust me, it feels good the first few times she has a heart-to-heart conversation with you, trying to convince you to apply. It is flattering. Then it just gets frustrating when she intercepts you in the corridors on your way to class all the time and says stuff like, “Still not tempted?” or meets me in the school office to debate my religious principles. I feel I owe her this explanation for her efforts (Seriously though, thank you maam, for showing you care).

Well, what ARE my reasons for applying to Aga Khan and Dow and not Johns Hopkins and Harvard? Financial? Partly. Improved career prospects? Partly. But the reasons are predominantly religious (You saw that one coming didn't you?)

I'll come to the religious part in a minute, but before that, some words about the other reasons:

Let's face it, medical school abroad costs an arm and a leg. AKU, extremely expensive by local standards, still is a pittance compared to medical schools abroad. When I tell people that, they urge me to apply for a scholarship. “At least apply!” they say, “You may land a mean scholarship. What's the harm in applying?” And they are absolutely correct. But that's why finances aren't the only reason. I won't go abroad, even if they pay me to. Besides, I'll feel real crappy if I do end up with a scholarship and don't go abroad. I'll waste too much time wistfully thinking of what could have been. In any case, medical school scholarships are tough to get. “Then apply for engineering!” they cry. “But I just said I want to become a doctor,” I reply, “I will not change my dream career for a college.” Though I could do the American way of doing things. Spend 4 years doing your B.Sc., then spend another 5 in med school. No thanks. Doctors in the former colonial countries study 4 years less and are as smart as their American counterparts. And House is just a TV show.

Which brings me to my second reason. Are foreign-qualified doctors as good as they're touted to be in comparison to local med school grads? In terms of knowledge, there's no denying it. They have better teachers, better labs and access to research material beyond us local boys' wildest dreams. And that's where the problem lies. Better facilities? I plan to live and work in a 3^rd world country. Modern labs are a luxury I will not have. So why use them in med school? I should familiarise myself with the apparatus I am going to use everyday for the rest of my life. Plus, the better teachers are better only when it comes to diseases endemic to the western hemisphere. Show them a case of tuberculosis (almost wiped out west of Suez), and they'll probably diagnose it as a bad cold and send the patient home for some good R & R. Okay, maybe that is a slight exaggeration. But you get my point, right? I don't want to spend my residency making exercise regimen and diet plans for overweight and cardiac patients (the single most common afflictions in the west), but treating infectious diseases (the most common causes for death here). Not because I have anything against obese people, but because it's quite stupid dealing with problems resulting from eating unhealthy when you will be spending your life dealing with the problem of patients not having enough to eat. And it's not like I'll never go abroad. I plan to take advantage of the superior research in foreign countries and do my specialisation, hopefully at Harvard, inshaAllah.

Now for the moral aspect:

My mother has always maintained that I will not apply abroad. Until 2 years ago, I didn't really argue with her because frankly, college was still too far off in my mind. It was only when my friends started to register for their SAT-1s that I too got hit by Harvard fever. I went upto my mother to ask her for the 90 something dollars for the SAT. She refused, saying that I was not mature enough to go abroad yet. My life flashed before my eyes. She had a point there. So I left it at that at the time.

A few months later, I was discussing AKU apps with my mother, when she suddenly asked,

“Faysy, you sure you want to go for medicine? I mean, you're not doing it because I want you to become a doctor, right?”

“No, mama, relax,” I replied truthfully, “I WANT to become a doctor. I find the human body fascinating, like a puzzle, except that you can't just do whatever you want with the pieces. You have to treat each piece with respect, because it's alive.”

She seemed appeased by my answer. Then she asked again,

“Faysal, you do understand why we're not letting you go abroad right?”

“Sure I do, mama, it's the 'Chick Factor',” I replied simply.

“Chick factor?” She was confused.

“Sure. You're scared I'll go move in with some goree bachhi, or worse, a bachha,” I finished, mischievously.

Her face was a mixture of aghast and amused. “Of course not, beta! I trust you. I know you would never do something like that!”

This came as a rude shock. I had reconciled myself to my fate, BECAUSE I felt the 'Chick Factor' was a valid enough reason to stay in Pakistan. Not that I felt I would commit such a heinous sin. But because I knew worse things have happened to better people upon new found freedom. Case in point: the formation of Pakistan itself. You should Google the story of Barsees, the greatest worshipper of Bani Israel to understand what I mean.

It was my turn to be confused. “Then why, mama?”

“Well, Faysy, you're not mature enough yet.”

“How so?”

“I know you. MashaAllah, you're a good kid, but I know that you will not be able to practise Islam openly abroad. Without realizing it, you will have to compromise at some point. Even if what you compromise on is not a Fard (obligatory) act, it all starts from there. If you were a bit more strong-willed, I would have still let you. But you get influenced very easily. Not necessarily by your friends. But by people you look up to. Like your mama and mami. You may find the wrong role model there. And it's not like your father and I are stopping you from going abroad for post-grad.”

Now here was a defining moment. If I accepted what she said, I would be doing what she was warning me against. Not doing what I believe is right, but what she believed to be. First, convincing myself that her viewpoint was the right one, then accepting it like I had come up with it on my own in the first place because a) I look up to her and b) she's very good at arguing, mashaAllah and it takes quite an effort to take up arms against her (I got my debating skills from her, I guess). So I cleared my mind and thought about it. My life flashed before my eyes again. And I realized, again, that she had a point there, again. Another one up to the away side. But I wonder sometimes, was my decision to agree with my mother again tainted by my nasty habit of adjusting my mindset to be in sync with her own? Was a part of me stopping me from thinking independently, like Zaphod Beeblebrox from 'The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy'?

But Allah (SWT) knows best.