How a Failed Hike and Four Languages Made Me a Better Physician
by Amy Shah, MD, MBA, PMP
As physicians, we are trained to be the experts in the room. We spend decades mastering medical books and articles that are often unfathomable to the layperson, carrying the weight of authority in every clinical encounter. We are comfortable in our white coats, surrounded by the familiar sounds of the hospital: the rhythmic beeping of monitors, the shorthand of medical jargon and the certainty of evidence-based practice. However, on a quiet Sunday afternoon, I don’ t reach for a medical journal to unwind. Instead, I open a language app to struggle through verb conjugations in French, German or Spanish. On the surface, this might seem like a simple hobby for a busy psychiatrist. But after years of dedicated practice, I have realized that learning a language is not just an intellectual exercise in neuroplasticity. It is a fundamental part of lifelong learning.
This journey didn’ t start in a classroom or a library; it started on the side of a mountain in Peru three years ago. I was there as part of my MBA program at the University of Louisville. Before the program started, a traveling companion and I were attempting to hike the iconic Inca Trail. I had envisioned a triumph of physical and mental endurance, but reality had other plans. The altitude hit me with a visceral force, leaving me sick, queasy and lightheaded.
While my companion was able to push forward and complete the trek, I found myself physically overmatched. I had to turn back. I hiked 16 miles in reverse with the help of a guide, returning to my hotel while the rest of my group continued toward Machu Picchu. For the next three days, I was alone in a foreign land.
I fell in love with the towering montañas, but that love was tempered by a profound sense of isolation. I rapidly adapted my plans. I spent those days navigating Incan ruins solo with local tour guides, marveling at the intricate textiles and the natural dyes used for the wool. I found a favorite chaufa restaurant where the food was as delicious as it was affordable, and I ate there every day. But even as I enjoyed the meal, I felt like a spectator. I was barred from the depth of the culture by a language I did not speak. I realized that the beauty of the landscape was immense, but my connection to the people living within it was thin. I returned to Louisville with a commitment: I would try to improve my Spanish.
When I was in elementary and high school, I, like many people, had Spanish classes, but I did not really learn enough to communicate. I remember learning the verbs and I remember making
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