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Saturday, November 26, 2011

Sweet Escape

The short, stocky man wearing the blood-spattered apron approached me with a broad smile. In his hands he held the severed head of an elk
“Yer a med student, boy. Think you can stomach this?” he said with a chuckle, lifting the head to within a foot of my nose.

I exchanged a glance with my fellow medical students. None of us expected to be touring a Mennonite slaughterhouse today. We had come to Mount Forest, a small community two hours northwest of Hamilton, to spend the day learning about rural medicine and experiencing something of the old-order Mennonite culture in the area. The Mennonites are a fervently religious Christian sect that rejects the "corrupting" influences of modern technology. They live off the land as farmers, travelling from place to place via horse and buggy. 


Aside from trying to traumatize us with the head, our Mennonite host (whose name was Melvin) was gracious and informative. He was happy to field our questions about Mennonite life. Melvin works from 4 am to the late evening every day, tending to his farm and operating his butcher shop. He spoke passionately about the "brotherhood” amongst Mennonites, who are bound together by their shared sense of destiny. After escaping religious persecution in Europe, his community migrated to North America over two hundred years ago. They have sustained their culture by homeschooling their children, instilling in them a deep sense of religious obligation. For the Mennonites, life is about hard work, duty, family and service to God.

At the same time, their community is no paradise. Melvin explained that their youth are barred from attending “real” schools because it would tempt them to join modern society. Without education, a youth has little choice but to remain within the fold. That begs the question: Are the Mennonites bound together by the strength of their faith or by a social structure that makes it impossible to leave?

My brief encounter with the Mennonite culture was just the icing on the cake of a fascinating day of training. Arriving that morning in Mount Forest, I learned three ways of popping a dislocated shoulder back into its socket, sutured a pig’s foot and put an arm cast on an eight-year old boy. We were hosted by several of the town’s doctors, who were eager to tell us more about medical practice in rural Canada.

"High" actually refers to the town's elevation. 
Over a lunch of chili and peach cobbler, I thanked them for providing such wonderful training for free.
“Oh, there’s no such thing as a free lunch,” one of the doctors said with a slight smile. “We need you to settle here once you’ve graduated from medical school.”
“Are you facing a shortage of doctors?” I wondered.  
“A lot of the docs here are getting old. Frankly, we're one heart attack away from disaster,” he said grimly. 

Although I savoured my experience in Mount Forest, I'm still not sure whether I'd ever practice in such a remote setting. While I love the outdoors, community spirit and low housing prices, I find the social conservatism of rural Canada somewhat stifling. Meanwhile, I cherish the cultural diversity and liberal attitudes of big cities like Hamilton and Toronto. 

But wherever I end up practicing, I'll have no regrets about signing up for this training day. It felt so refreshing to break free from the monotony of tests and tutorials, a brief but sweet escape into rural Canada.