Ethiopian Love Song

Abstract

In 1972, as a “defrocked” debutante, I worked at a mission hospital in Haiti. It was a summer like no other: full of life, death, and love in unexpected guises. In short, the trip was transformative, drawing me to new worlds like a moth to a flame. Before long, I decided to study tropical medicine. A decade later—as an infectious diseases trainee—my Chief took me aside. “Can you speak with an applicant?,” he asked. And so I met Abraham Verghese, an Indian-American MD raised in Ethiopia. Soon, we were deep in conversation. What sparked our rapport, I later wondered. Was it spiritual provenance? (In 52 AD, Saint Thomas visited southern India and planted the ancient church of Verghese's forbears; in 301 AD, Saint Gregory led my Armenian ancestors to embrace a similar Christian faith.) Or perhaps it was a common love of tropical medicine, history, or literature. Because our Boston fellowships did not overlap, I never found out. Now, fast forward another dozen years. In 1994, when I was back in Los Angeles, Verghese published My Own Country, his breakout non-fiction book about acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS) sufferers in Tennessee. In 1998, his reputation grew with The Tennis Partner, a second powerful memoir set in Texas. Soon, I invited Verghese to speak at an American Society of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene (ASTMH) conference (for the record, he declined, albeit graciously). Finally, at a 2011 University of California at Los Angeles lecture, we reconnected in person. “What happened to your long hair?” were his first words. What the heck?, I thought. Then, I smiled. Writers' memories run deep. Anyway, this piece is not about chance encounters or reunions but Cutting for Stone, Verghese's latest medical blockbuster largely set at an Ethiopian mission hospital. Released in 2009, the novel remains on many bestseller lists even today. Before long (assuming it does not languish in Hollywood development hell), the story will bloom anew on the silver screen. Should I write about it for the Tropical Bookshelf? I waffled earlier this year, still unsure if the sprawling work was suited to AJTMH. Then, I reread the 540-page folio, savoring its story and themes. I also sampled a handful of reviews. There is so much more to say, I gasped. How could the critics have missed so much? Here is another tasting menu of a global saga of love, loss, and redemption, an author's passion for medicine, and a modern literary classic.