The worst part of being a group leader is medical issues. Here you are with a group of twenty-somethings, and when something goes wrong, the sensible ones ask the advice of the group leader. But of course people in my position are not supposed to give medical advice or draw medical conclusions; that is what the university requires. It is also completely unrealistic. Someone in my position is going to give his opinion, and if he doesn't, then he is pathetic as a group leader, and you can be damn well sure that the students will regard him as a pseudo-parental failure.

Most of the time, of course, the medical stuff is non-serious, and the students can deal with it by themselves. For instance, on Friday student Marissa ate an entire pound of peaches; the resulting fiber bomb had predictable results on her digestive tract. Student Darwal found a Korean restaurant that served dog meat; he insists it was very tasty, but the results on his system were essentially identical to Marissa's.

But sometimes more serious things come up. Student Lewis has a congenital condition that sometimes results in paralysis of the legs, which struck him Saturday. The condition resolves itself with simple rest, no doctor nor medicine required. His host family, however, was quite concerned because he needed help getting back in the house on Saturday. On Sunday morn I made arrangements to visit his host family at one, and then I headed off to church. While my phone was off, the host family called our London School contact and said they wanted him removed from the home since they felt they couldn't care of him properly. Post-church I reviewed an e-mail from Lewis's dad, contemplated the link describing his condition, and headed to the host family. Truth to tell, I thought I would have to take him into my apartment, a thing group leaders have to do on occasion, but which was undesirable on this occasion because my apartment is on the second floor of a building, and Lewis's legs need rest. To my surprise, the family was willing to be persuaded to allow him to stay a couple more days and then re-evaluate the situation. I'm quite pleased. I wish I could say it was due to my stellar powers of persuasion: the art of persuasion is part of proving you are a "superior" speaker of a language, which I have never officially proven. But the truth is that it is just a very compassionate family. Lewis had already 10% convinced them, the elder daughter another 25%, and their kindness really just filled in the rest. One thing they were concerned about was whether Lewis could handle getting to the WC on his own, so I had him prove he could do it with a stool and rolling chair. Success! The youngest daughter in the family has a well-developed sense of responsibility and wanted to help him at every turn. Cruel me, I insisted he do it on his own, which he managed, and that was helpful in convincing them.

So why do I mention this story? Our London School contact really thought Lewis needed to go to a doctor. Lewis and his dad both thought otherwise. Their condition is common in people of Germanic descent and essentially doesn't occur among Asians. You don't find it among the Kyrgyz, and a Kyrgyz doctor will hardly have heard of the condition. Lewis and his dad have both participated in research on the condition; they are part of the cutting edge of exploring the disorder. The link I was presented with was consistent with their statements, so I felt it reasonable to do my part in persuading our locals that a doctor doesn't seem to be necessary. And frankly that is essentially practicing medicine. It something every parent with children has had to do; and parents know the fear that goes along with trying to figure out when something is serious and when it isn't.

And why do I think I succeeded in persuading the family on this occasion? Doubtless it was because I went to church this morning.