In honor of Emory's award-winning (and subtitled) student short film, The Gerstein Report, this entire blog post will be written in German. Thanks Google Language Tools!

For those of you who don't speak German, check out the subtitles in the comments section.

Der Gerstein-Bericht führt nur fünf Minuten, aber erinnern Sie sich, dass es noch lange nach. Basierend auf der wahren Geschichte von einem deutschen SS-Offizier, der in Konflikt steht, als er erfährt, wie seine wissenschaftlichen Arbeiten zur Ermordung der unschuldigen, Das Gerstein-Bericht, die "gewann Best Drama" an die 2010 Campus MovieFest (CMF) International Grand Finale des Wettbewerbs verwendet wird, ist , ist ein brillantes Beispiel für enge Geschichtenerzählen und erfinderisch und emotionale Filmemachen.

-- Farah Shackelford, communications intern, EAA

Joining the dark-suited crowds of hundreds of job seekers carrying resume-filled leather portfolios and bags of employer swag, Emory alumni mingled in the Grand and Continental ballrooms of George Washington University's Marvin Center with approximately 70 employers and reported making excellent contacts and getting great leads on opportunities.

Alumni traveled from as far as Georgia to participate in this pilot venture with other schools, including George Washington University, University of Southern California, University of Illinois, and Dartmouth, and MyWorkster.com, who organized the fair.

Emory alumni made the most of opportunities to connect with recruiters, who noted the high quality of the candidates they met from all schools. Alumni commented that the "phenomenal" opportunity was a "continuation of the Emory tradition" and was "very productive." One happy alumna said, as she left the fair, "give Emory a hug for me!"

A happy hour at local watering hole McFadden's, organized by alumni volunteers of the Washington, DC Chapter of Emory Alumni, followed the event.

--Carolyn Bregman 82L, director, Alumni Career Services

Since my last message, those of us aboard USNS Mercy have been extremely busy. After departing Hawaii in mid-May we crossed thousands of nautical miles of azure-colored ocean and arrived in Guam to embark an additional 450 personnel ranging from U.S. military to Public Health Service and NGO (non-governmental organization) civilian volunteers.

Needless to say, this is chaotic even under the best circumstances. Our administrative team worked past 3:00 a.m. to check everyone in and make sure that these exhausted souls had a place to sleep.

Having made this flight before, it is completely disorienting to arrive 15 hours into the future after crossing the International Date Line and it takes a good 2–3 days to get on track. We were able to stay pier-side for three full days taking on supplies and giving our new shipmates a chance to acclimatize. Just about the time the glazed over facial expressions were returning to normal, it was time to weigh anchor and point the bow of the ship toward Vietnam.

Our original plan had been to navigate north of the Philippines, but severe weather altered our course and sent us through the San Bernardino Strait—right through the middle of the Philippine Islands. We were treated to a smoking volcano and the sights of land, sometimes getting close enough to make out the details of the small shacks that randomly dotted the jungle islands.

Once safely through the strait, we again entered open ocean and headed for our first mission site. The days spent in transit were filled with activities—training, planning, and organizing. We celebrated Asian-Pacific Heritage Month and had a fantastic performance of traditional Filipino dances. It did not hurt that our head cook is Filipino, and he whipped up a gourmet feast of adobo, pancit, and coco panda (coconut bread).

At 6:00 a.m. on May 31, USNS Mercy dropped anchor about 6km off the coast of Quy Nhon, Vietnam. Our 50 person surgical screening departed 90 minutes later for the boat ride to the pier. We all jumped off the “band-aid” boats and scurried up a very steep and slippery ramp to put our feet down on Vietnamese soil. Two fairly well air-conditioned buses transported us to the Bihn Dihn Provincial Hospital to see potential surgical patients.

It is always an interesting experience to be the first team to provide medical care ashore. The best way that I have found to explain the scene waiting for us is to liken it to the opening bell of the New York Stock Exchange.

There were about 30 Vietnamese doctors present, waving papers all over the place trying to get their patients to the head of the line. Approximately 300 patients were scattered over an area of roughly half an acre. A few of our husky corpsmen made some room for us to set up our administrative area, and before we knew it the first group of patients was checked in, examined, and on the way to the ship for surgery.

It was readily apparent that we were not used to the heat (108 degrees) or the humidity (85%) since we were all sweat-soaked from head to toe and consuming water at a rate usually reserved for beer-chugging contests. As the sun rose higher and the morning turned to afternoon, we worked through the day side-by-side with our Vietnamese counterparts. We took a brief break around noon to respect the local custom of lunch hour and consumed our MREs (mystery Navy food that sometimes comes as advertised, but sometimes does not).

One of the scenes that sticks out most in my mind and which epitomizes the goals of our mission was watching our Australian ophthalmologist perform one of her many cataract examinations alongside the Vietnamese ophthalmologist, using one of our NGO translators, and sending patients to see our Singaporean anesthesiologist for final clearance before being scheduled for surgery.

The spirit of cooperation between host nation physicians and our Pacific Partnership team was truly amazing and helped us complete 132 surgical cases during our 12-day stay. The confidence placed in our surgical care by the Vietnamese was so strong that they brought us two acute trauma patients—one expertly repaired by our orthopedic surgeon and one with multiple facial fractures who was given a thorough trauma workup and a complex reconstruction performed by our ENT surgeon.

Aside from the gratifying and life-changing surgeries that were performed, our presence also benefited the Binh Dinh Province in many other ways. A team of construction engineers from the Seabees and their Australian equivalents completed three major projects, including a complete overhaul of a center for disabled children.

For the first time, veterinary care was allowed ashore and our team saw hundreds of animals and provided valuable vaccination and deworming services. Our biomedical repair technicians fixed several expensive pieces of medical equipment and the Navy band played two concerts for the locals.

As with most areas exposed to high temperatures and humidity, the pace picks up a bit after the sun goes down. We had the opportunity to go ashore a couple of times and partake of the local food. After negotiating a taxi ride to a well-known restaurant, a small group of us sat around small wooden tables in a traditional open-air Asian style room watching a panoramic sunset and seeing the colorful fishing boats return from their daily run. A pounding thunderstorm cooled things off a bit as we sat and took in the ambiance.

I am used to seeing unusual things abroad, but the geckos climbing on the walls behind the bar was something entirely new. The rain forces them inside, where they just hang out for awhile. After a lot of pointing at the menu and a few broken phrases of Vietnamese and English from both sides, our group ended up with the house specials—garlic squid, crab noodles, and a steamed green, leafy vegetable that was something between collard greens and seaweed. It was all good and we were grateful just to be off the ship for a few hours.

The boat ride back to the USNS Mercy was a bit more adventuresome since the storm had whipped the seas up to whitecap level. I was unfortunate enough to be sitting in the “soak zone” and came back completely drenched with salty harbor water and smelling of two-day-old seafood.

During the course of our time in Quy Nhon, the Vietnamese surgeon general visited the ship along with 18 physicians. We shared a working lunch and outlined the basic plans for the Vietnamese to construct a hospital ship platform. We were also joined by ADM Robert Willard, who is the four-star in charge of all military activity in the Pacific Theater. Currently, the head of Navy Medicine West is aboard, RADM Christine Bruzek-Kohler. She is my boss, and will accompany us to our surgical screening in Sihanoukville tomorrow—it will be the start of the next leg of the adventure.

-- CDR Trent Douglas 95M, director, surgical services, USNS Mercy

Before my internship at the Miller-Ward Alumni House, I always thought of drab, gray, buildings surrounded by ugly parking lots when "work" came to mind.

Every morning MWAH and its colorful landscape radiate beauty, but on this particular morning, June 11, beauty was an understatement. I walked up the stairs at the exact moment the sun began to peek through the verdant trees--wait I take that back--the gorgeous morning sunlight POURED through the trees.

What a refreshing way to start the day!

--Farah Shackelford, EAA communications intern

The president’s house definitely puts the “lull” in Lullwater, in a calming, relaxing way. After a vigorous hike through the woods, 25 EAA and Emory Annual Fund staff felt as though we were one with nature, even in our business casual attire and non-athletic shoes.

As we approached the Lullwater House, my jaw literally fell to the floor. I was not expecting an elegant mansion house surrounded by lush vegetation consisting of a rainbow of flowers and vivid, green grass. The environment was pristine and peaceful.

We strolled to the back of the house through the quaint garden. Debbie Wagner, the president's wife, enthusiastically greeted us on her back porch which resembled a spread straight out of Southern Living. Tables with large umbrellas sat on the porch, inviting us to sit and enjoy lunch and good conversation. Despite the humidity and occasional raindrop, it was a very pleasant experience.

Following our bagged lunches and a few glasses of Debbie’s delicious orange-lemon juice, we began the tour of the Lullwater House. Each room had its own unique story-from where the furniture came from to the funny stories Debbie shared with us. I was particularly awestruck by the Old English ceilings in the foyer. The Lullwater house looked immaculate despite the plethora of events that occur there. It was also very comforting to see the homey touch the Wagners added to it—like the photos of their daughters throughout the house and the homemade exercise room.

“Yes, this is Emory’s house, but it is our home,” Debbie said. This made me appreciate even more what the Wagners do for Emory.

Debbie, thank you for having us for lunch and for the tour of the Lullwater House (even without the cheesy tour guide outfit complete with nametag)!

--Farah Shackelford, EAA communications intern

Friday isn't normally a necktie day at the Miller-Ward Alumni House (MWAH), but when the Board of Trustees (BOT) is meeting 40 feet from your office, it's important not to look like someone who should be escorted from the building.

A quick glance at the University's organizational chart gives you an idea of the BOT's importance. It's at the top. In a really big font.

When the BOT is here, we act accordingly.

Emory's BOT meets three times a year and--unless there is a specific reason, like a tour or retreat or something--they meet here at MWAH. And we do our best to be gracious hosts. Members arrived on Thursday morning and their meetings have continued through this afternoon. Last night, they took time out for dinner at Lullwater.

Many members of the BOT are alumni (between 9 and 11 positions on the 40-member board are specifically for alumni), others are community, business or educational leaders. No matter their background all share a love of Emory and a deep interest in its success.

The University, understandably, takes BOT meetings pretty seriously. Throughout the day, Emory's leaders shuttle in and out of our conference rooms, going to and from meetings with BOT members. In those meetings, a lot of very important decisions are made.

That's probably why I've never been in one.

Those of us at the EAA ... we try to go about our business as best we can (unless we have a presentation to make, which happens every once in a while ... you can tell who's in that boat ... they are generally a little tense ... or too casual ... that's a way to hide the tension).

One great bonus of the BOT visits is the food. There is always a little bit extra. Yesterday it was BLTs and orzo salad. Today--red velvet cupcakes. I apologize for any crumbs on this post.

I have only spoken to trustees a couple of times. Mainly to provide directions around the house. They are always perfectly nice and professional, but also carry with them an air of preoccupation. I can understand that; I'm sure they are probably thinking about 22 different things at any one time. And it can't be easy to navigate the administrator parade while you're thinking about those 22 things.

I talk to the staff quite a bit, though. I've known Kim and Cindy and Joan and Andrew (who works in the University Events office) for a long time. From their table in the MWAH foyer, tucked under our spiral staircase they somehow seamlessly manage all this activity and they have smiles on their faces when they do it, too. It's pretty remarkable.

Even when I saunter up to Kim and talk about something totally irrelevant to what's going on. Today it was tennis. Usually it's movies she hasn't seen or music she doesn't listen to.

Most importantly, the staff also politely looks the other way when I drink coffee from the fancy decanters outside Governors Hall. So much better than the office brew.

It's the little things you appreciate the most.

-- Eric Rangus, director of communications, EAA

I felt like a giddy, excited freshman again as I drove onto Emory’s campus to begin my summer internship. A brand-new campus. New faces. A new chapter of life: the real world. You’re probably asking yourself why Emory is a new place for me. No, I did not graduate from Emory, but I will tell you how I got here.

Being a recent college graduate of Samford University in these horrendous economic times has its pros and cons. I got some much needed time to myself devoid of rigorous coursework. It consisted of attempting to unpack and organize my entire life from four years of college (I know that does not sound appealing, but it must get done or else I will face continuous parental nagging).

The security blanket, also known as college, is now lacking. No more scheduling classes to start at 1:00 p.m. every day so I can stay up late and sleep in, no monthly allowance from my parents, and last and DEFINITELY least, no continual flow of income.

College. Check.

What now?

Yes … the job search began. It became a job in itself. I applied for every marketing, sales, and communication job under the sun. My overenthusiastic mother sent me job leads until my mailbox could not hold any more e-mails. I was going crazy. I dug deep and veered away from careerbuilder and monster.com. That’s when I thought of Emory.

My parents, uncle, and aunt are all Emory alumni, so I obtained basic information about this flourishing institution. I did some research and discovered their summer internship program. Since I was a communication studies major with some marketing experience, I enthusiastically applied for the EAA internship dealing with communications.

I got the invite to interview. I put on my game face and my best pair of “work shoes” so I could make a lasting impression. After interviewing at the charming, elegant Miller-Ward Alumni House (MWAH) with Eric Rangus, director of communications, and Kelley Quinn 08B, coordinator of leadership development, I knew I wanted to work here because of their genuine interest in me and my qualifications and because of the amazing job description.

In the end, all the blood, sweat, and tears from searching high and low for a job paid off. I was offered the internship! (Insert cheering and clapping here). I embraced this blessing with satisfaction and happiness. I truly know this summer will offer experience in the workforce—more specifically—the marketing and communications field.

I am ecstatic because I intern at one of the most prestigious universities in the country complete with leather-clad textbooks, a wide variety of majors and minors, and the coolest people in the world, of course!

-- Farah Shackelford, communications intern, EAA