last , I approached the face I saw in the picture , and we shuffled together through the security line to get to our next flight . After a major coughing attack and risking the water with a cup of tea , we finally boarded the tiny 12-passenger prop plane and were told to sit in the back . The interior of the plane looked similar to a minivan and housed quite an array of passengers : the pilot a mere 8 feet or so ahead of me , a barefoot man with a nice watch , a young woman with a newborn baby and a Caucasian OB-GYN doctor clad in her African scarf and cargo pants on vacation . There were also two very blonde women in crisp white linen , with diamonds and fur-lined purses .
The aerial views were stunning ( per Jillian , “ It looks just like the globe !”), with the glittering teal blue ocean and lush green atolls . I wished I could appreciate it more but my head was throbbing , my body ached and I felt like I was in some sort of fog . The plane landed first in Dhingara , then Placencia , then finally an hour later in Punta Gorda . Much to our surprise , our driver , Leslie , found us quickly at the tiny trailer of an airport and loaded our suitcases into a beat-up white minivan labeled “ Hillside Clinic .” He looked like the typical Belizean , with dark brown skin and tight , curly hair , almost like a cross between East Indian and African . He pointed out attractions in the town as we passed , most notably the amazing Chinese restaurant called “ Ms . Summers ,” with an attentive Jillian taking mental notes and asking questions ( while I focused on making sure my head didn ’ t actually explode ). He was nice enough to take us by a local supermarket so we could pick up a few things , since there was no food in our cabin . It was like an open-air garage with no refrigeration , eggs stacked in front with the occasional fly resting on top , canned food , bread and multiple carb-laden products , along with an impressive array of dog food . We picked up peanut butter and jelly , a loaf of bread , pasta , the only jar of Ragu available and two cans of alphabet vegetable soup .
As we made our way down the dirt road to our clinic ’ s compound , we saw puppies playing , the colorful shacks of the villagers , a young boy peeing joyously off of his front stoop and the curious eyes of men on bicycles . We met our guard , Frank , a mostly toothless and grinning Belizean who helped us with our bags up the stairs to our cottage , named the “ tree house .” It ’ s a white and red wooden structure with a long wooden staircase to the top , tucked back toward the trees . Inside , plank wood floors and bright yellow curtains with teal paisley greeted us in our little kitchen , complete with a playschool-sized gas stove , tiny wooden table , four chairs , a love seat , refrigerator and an old microwave . A door from the kitchen leads to an open-air walkway to the bedrooms , where we found our little double room with two twin beds , nicely adorned with thin , woven quilts and clean white sheets . There isn ’ t any glass on the windows , so they naturally stay open at all times , with screens backing them and large wooden plank shutters . The bathroom was tiny and cramped with a quirky toilet , but hey , you won ’ t find me complaining about having running water !
We split a can of alphabet soup for lunch , warmed in one of the many dented , but clean , aluminum pots underneath our countertop . We waved cobwebs out of the small free-standing wooden pantry and cautiously loaded our goods inside . There was one PA student who stayed behind from the group staying down at the house just next door , whom we came down to meet . Karen , a blondish middle-aged woman from New Mexico , with two twenty-something year old kids , had an easy smile and lots of helpful information . We take note of the bus schedules posted on the dorm wall and Jillian excitedly starts planning a trip to the Placencia beaches for the next day . I look at her wearily , wishing I felt well enough to go , as she looked back at me hopefully . I finally crashed for a nap that only involved minimal coughing ( though apparently , I am pseudo-coughing in my sleep according to Jillian ) and woke up around 8:45 p . m . hungry . We cooked a simple dinner of rotini pasta and half the jar of Ragu and split most of it , making the leftovers the first offering to the empty refrigerator . Jillian got into bed while I fussed with my mosquito net for over an hour , trying to figure out how to finagle it without anywhere on the ceiling to hook it onto . I finally got it looking somewhat functional and go to crawl inside , and the whole thing pops right off . Exhausted , I resolve to go wash my face where a spider the size of my palm greets me in the bathroom . I woke up Jillian and we flounder around trying to smash the thing with a shoe unsuccessfully .
I laid down listening to the squawks of the tropical birds settling in , the howling of the wild dogs and rain started to fall on the tin roof . Around 5:00 a . m ., the rain still pouring , a thumping , cartoonish beat rises out of the jungle – music ? Now ? Jillian rolls over when her alarm goes off at 6 , and I smile , knowing there ’ s no beach trip today .
Day # 2 , Bush Medicine
08:45 . Jillian is eating Cheez-Its in her bed . We scuffle to the kitchen for Lipton tea and a slice of bread with peanut butter . I brave a cup of instant coffee and manage to find a small container of sugar someone left behind . I won ’ t say it was pleasant , but at least I staved off a headache of a different sort . We decide to unpack and then I re-tackle the issue of the mosquito net , which this time is fixed to a panel on the window and finally sets up properly ( yes , there was cheering ). We head down to the dorm for internet , where Jillian amasses details about the week ahead from Karen and the smattering of papers tacked to the bulletin board , including some sort of presentation she and I are signed up to do tomorrow on Malaria , Dengue , Chagas and Leishmaniasis . This was obviously never mentioned to either of us , and God help me if I remember the absurd lifecycle of P . falciparum or much more to the “ kissing bug ” ( Chagas Disease ) than you might end up with irreversible heart failure years down the road . I can ’ t recall the difference between Leishmaniasis and Schistosomiasis , and I probably know just as much about Dengue as any other layperson , except that I had a friend who contracted
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