It
had been almost 3
years since we all graduated medical school and it was
time for a circuitous reunion via Canada. About 10 of us
headed to Montreal, in the province of Quebec from
our various residencies around the country. We
had arrived at my friend Reuben Strayer’s place
like a series of refugees. He had been in Montreal for
the last several years and was always singing the praises of
Montreal. The official agenda of the trip was to attend
a much hyped series of parties to celebrate Reuben’s
30th birthday.
The City of Montreal
To walk around Montreal, is to feel like you are in Europe. Not just
because the French that is spoken here but more so the
atmosphere. Strolling around bohemian neighborhoods in
the Latin quarter and the Plateau every French Canadian
seems to be on the streets heading somewhere to
celebrate. When I first emerged from the metro there was
a festival right at the entrance where people danced to
samba music and cheered, a friendly welcome to a
friendly city. Street mucians, tiny art galleries, and
myriad parks abound in Montreal. Historic old Montreal
with its churches, city hall, and the old port is a
brilliant sight. Everywhere you go in Montreal you come
across sidewalk cafes, restaurants,and small stores
selling fresh produce and flowers on the sidewalks.
Montreal is clean and the subway system is efficient.
The Party
The festivities began Friday at
Reuben’s bachelor pad in the heart of Montreal. Reuben
was the source of endless humor in med school and
perhaps it was a testament to his quirkiness that he has
the capacity to summon 10 classmates from around the
United States to fly to another country to celebrate his
birthday. The “Reuben in med school” stories are
many, it is hard to pick one the would be
most reflective of his audacity. Perhaps the most
illustrative story would be during our surgery rotation
as 3rd year medical students when
as a lowly medical student he wrote in a patients
official chart that the radiology attending needed to
improve his handwriting under his assessment and plan.
The humor was lost on the attending and he was sent to
the chief of surgery’s office to explain himself.
Reuben would later state he was told in no uncertain
terms that he would have to work very hard to just pass the
rotation (he apparently passed). Reuben’s exploits
with large obstetrics nurses, his odd gifts to dates,
tales of his failed conquests, and most recently
buying looted boxes of black market candy bars
from Algerian immigrants in southern France were and
still are hilarious. The first night he gave us a tour
of the bohemian streets of Montreal and walked to a peir
with a sensational view of the St. Lawrence River. He
also somehow managed to offend a waiter in chinatown where
we all dinned
on mystery vegetables.
The party
would get started Saturday at a Thai restaurant and
proceed to a club he had rented out where
perhaps 150 people showed up for the party. Okem
was there and for those of you who knew him in med
school it used to be said in med school it isn’t a
party until “you sweat like Okem”. Okem it should be
said is a profuse sweater and few people I know in this
world can sweat as prodigiously as he can. He just has
an innate talent
for sweating and I would conjecture he could sweat on
command if you asked him too. Okem is my good friend but
he is the
only person who’s humor comes close to Reuben’s. The
first time I met Okem he was at his desk in the medical
school where we each had our own desks. On his desk he
proudly displayed a glossy 8X11 inch headshot of himself. Not him and someone else, or him doing something interesting, just an absurdly narcissistic large glamorshot-like picture of himself
grinning widely. Since med school Okem has grow an
impressive set of dreadlocks, and although he recently
spammed a text message to everybody lamenting he was
going to cut them he couldn’t go though with it. Like
Samson he would be powerless to make women swoon without
them and indeed Okem is at the epicenter of the
Manhattan social scene these days. His dreds as I think
Minh once said “have lifted many an exclusive club’s
velvet ropes and opened plenty of buttery thighs across
NYC”. Minh
another crony from
med school was most know for his talent for saying dude
with more than 100 intonations and his uncanny ability
to sleep in for 20 hours in a row. The list goes on and
on, Peleg who can can speak faster than most people can
drive, Scott master
of the timepiece and many others……..
The
celebration at the club lived up to all the hype, and
the after party which began after 3am that was just as
fun. The after party was at Roy’s pad, another UT
Southwesten alum who also happens to be doing his
residency in Montreal. There were all manner of drinks
and foods, the most interesting of which was specially
concocted gourmet yogurt drink blended
by a mysterious south Indian resident of Montreal
who goes by the singular moniker “Gandar” (he
even left a business card). There was a platter of some
smoked deli meats from Scwatz’s deli that apparently is quite famous in Montreal. The party even
featured cheesy karaoke ballads. Eventually we left but
the party seemed to continue on the street where an
inebriated French Canadian lobbed a half eaten sandwich
our way narrowly missing us for no apparent reason and muttered something in
French, it certainly has not been a night out on the
town if a French Canadian has not thrown food
at you, go Canada!
Sunday the festivities were over, indeed it had
been quite a fun weekend but everybody headed back to
the realities of residency…… alas we all plan to
meet up in New York in July
