Made it, unpacked, culture shock

I forget how strange it is to step out into a Third World country the first time. To me, the chaos of making it through customs, the throng at the airport, the smell of charcoal smoke in the air--even the rubble and trash and dizzying bustle of traffic and people--is familiar, but there are a lot of heads on swivels. Haiti is different and shocking, especially Port-au-Prince. I notice the little things: how everyone is curious, unselfconsciously so, about us. Not in our face at all, but everyone takes a look at us, only the children shout out "Blan!". We are here. With all our baggage. The ventilator, a piece of equipment that is $30,000 new, is safe. We tour the campus of the Haitian Christian Mission, then we eat, beef stew. It's delicious with potatoes, plantains, and dumplings. I've already broken a food rule: I bought fried plaintain I'm Port-au-Prince from a street vendor. It was incredible. I think hotboil kills all germs ever, right? After lunch, we unpack and clean the pharmacy. The pharmacy is a mess. It takes us hours, then dinner, then we eat again: roasted chicken. After dinner, we meet as a team, talk about the next day, and everyone scatters for bed. Except Sabine and me. She finishes the pharmacy, and I reconstruct the ventilator. Then I blog. I'm falling asleep as I do it. I'll sleep under the stars tonight, clinic starts in the morning.
Doug