Tales of Olsen

5

The school term began three days later. It was mostly orientations and preliminary courses to prepare us for the classes that were to come but it all felt very official. The lecturers were strict, and the classes were filled with eager, diligent students. Jordan and I were inseparable, mostly because we knew no one else and because we chose all the same classes. On the third day, we were on our way to a lecture on medical anthropology when I spotted a familiar face.

“Are you seeing this?” Jordan asked

“Keith,” I whispered turning away so that he wouldn’t see us. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him but something about him made me anxious. It didn’t help that he had been on my mind constantly since the last time I saw him.

“He’s coming right towards us,” she whispered, “you should turn around.”

I didn’t particularly want to, but instead of being the chicken I knew I was, I turned to face him as he approached. Once again, I couldn’t deny just how beautiful he was. He was pale but there were hints of a light tan on his skin. His dark hair was slicked back perfectly without a strand out of place. His jawline was so angular it put mine to shame, not to mention his high cheekbones. It was hard to imagine someone this beautiful existing.

“Ladies,” he said in a low deep voice that washed over us like smooth velvet, “it’s great to see you again.”

Jordan nodded confidently but instinctively, my hand went to my hair and I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Keith,” I said finally regaining my voice,

“How are you this morning?” He asked,

“Great, just heading to class,” Jordan replied while I tried to conjure up something to say.

“Same here,” he replied,

“Wait you’re doing folk medicine?” I asked a bit surprised at the coincidence.

I shouldn't be surprised but I was. There weren't many students on campus but most of us were in our first year trying to eagerly attend our first round of classes. Although Keith looked at leave five years older than us it wasn’t right to assume he wasn’t a student.

“Something like that,” he replied

There was a glint in his eyes and I knew there was more to it than he was letting on but I didn’t let my suspicion show. Jordan stood back and together we watched as he sauntered off. It was clear he knew just how handsome he was. Persons all around us stopped to stare at him as he walked by. In a matter of seconds, my senses returned, and we hurried off to class. The building our class was being held in today was much different than the other medical science buildings. It was obviously older, and the design was much more like that of other European style buildings I had seen in pictures. It had large tall columns, small windows and a massive door at the entrance that looked as if it had been put on by giants. In the lobby, the ceiling went all the way up revealing intricate stained-glass designs that seemed to come alive when the light caught them.

“Feels like a whole other world,” Jordan said pulling me along

She knew I was easily distracted by beautiful things, especially art.

“I know,” I whispered as we went by, “I wonder who designed this building.”

“Does it matter?” Jordan asked as we ascended the steps to the lecture hall where our classes were to be held.

“It matters to me,” I replied, “it’s beautiful,”

She shrugged and continued to lead me up the steps. When we finally arrived at the doorway to our class I noticed that the room was mostly full. The only space left for us to sit together was in the front row. It was always good to sit at the front, but I didn’t like it and Jordan hated it even more.

“We’ll come earlier tomorrow,” I said motioning for her to take a seat before the class began.

We both sat reluctantly and luckily for us, there was enough noise in the room to mask our late entrance. I took the general distraction in the room as an opportunity to see who had made it to class; if Keith had made it to the class. If he was here, he wouldn’t be hard to spot but there was no sign of him in the room. I assumed that he must have been flocked by beautiful girls asking for his number because he was no-where around.

When I finally turned to the front of the room, a man was walking onto the stage. It took me a second to recognize who it was, but the moment I did, my jaw dropped.

“Is that?” Jordan asked

“It’s him,” I whispered

He looked over at us and winked at us. My heart sank; was this our professor and had we made total fools of ourselves earlier.

“And to think you almost had a crush on the professor,” Jordan teased, “what would your mother say?”

I giggled and nudged her with my elbow.  The class began, and Keith introduced himself as professor Anglin. It was strange seeing him up there especially since he didn’t look much older than we were. As he taught, he went on to assert that he was much older than he looked, and his youthfulness was a consequence of his religious practices and his DNA. Although I tried my very best to be attentive, everything about him enchanted me. His voice sounded as if it had been dipped in gold and his smile was so bright that I had a hard time understanding what he was saying.

“I can’t allow you to fail med school because of this man,” Jordan said halfway through the hour-long lecture, “get it together, you’re drooling all over the place,”

Looking up, I realized that I had totally missed everything he said even though I had been staring directly at him.

“You’re right,” I replied, “I need to do better.”

“That’s the right attitude,” Jordan replied flashing me a knowing smile.

“So folk medicines are so effective that doctors must study some of these methods in their hospitals before trying to treat their patients,” Keith said from the raised platform on which he stood, “for the rest of this course, we will learn about things such as herbal and spiritual healings. It’s the finest medical school in the world but you never know what a good prayer can do.”

The whole class erupted in laughter and I could tell it was more to gain his attention than at the poor joke he had told.

“So, what you’re saying is these methods can be more effective than modern medicine?” someone asked from the back of the room

I craned my head to see who it was, but the person was hidden behind the throng of students who were at the back.

“I’m saying no such thing,” he replied, “the truth is, long before western medicine was standardized, most practices could be considered indigenous medical practices and as such, we cannot completely ignore persons who have a different system of healing just because it hasn’t been standardized.”

I understood what he was saying, and it made much more sense than what we had been taught growing up. My grandmother’s remedies were a testament; although they had no medical research to back them, years of positive experience with them gave more value than a doctor’s visit; even if my dad was opposed to them.

“What you need to learn first as medical students is that when treating persons who have their own system of medicine, they’ll never take your pills but if you can tap into their indigenous knowledge, you could possibly save their lives.” He said

There was a collective groan of acceptance around the room.

The class went on for another half an hour and it was enlightening to watch him teach and listen to the things he had to say. Jordan and I were walking out when I felt his presence behind us. I didn’t know how I could tell; maybe it was the sudden stares we got from other students or maybe there was something about him that made it easy to know when he was near. Either way, my skin cooled and a tiny ball of sweat ran down my spine.

“Ladies,” he said walking over to us and standing before me, he wore a serious expression that didn’t match the familiarity in his voice,

“Hi,” Jordan said, “you didn’t tell us you were teaching the class,”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t,” he said once again flashing us a charming smile.

It was a technicality and I was confident that he knew what we meant.

“I think you know what she means,” I replied,

“Regardless,” he said dismissively, “I wanted to invite you ladies to an event I host with a few of my students and a few friends of mine. It’s an immersion into the ethics of modern medicine in closed ethnic groups. I think you guys will love it.”

Jordan looked at me and I knew she was excited; she had always been excited at every opportunity for extra credit. I, on the other hand, had my suspicions. Why would he invite us? We were the quietest in the class today and there was nothing particularly special about us.

“Are you sure you want us to come?” I asked

“Yes,” he replied confidently, “you two intrigue me, it would be great to engage in some scholarly discussions.”

Jordan looked over at me to see if I was having it and I shrugged. It wouldn’t hurt to get into his good grace. It was obvious he knew what he was teaching and the more opportunities for extra credit the better. That was the reasoning at the front of my mind, but I knew deep down I was more interested in figuring this man out.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” I replied,

“Excellent,” he said pulling out his card and handing it to me, you can start coming whenever you’re ready.

Just as he had done the first time we met, he brushed past us and walked away without another word.

“He’s strange” Jordan whispered

“You can say that again,” I replied