1) Working and talking with the Ministry of Health convinces me I’m in Harry Potter.
2) Our study nurse Mma Molapisi greets me each day by stroking either my breasts or butt.
3) It’s assumed I will eat everything with my hands.
4) The Dingo drives like a dream even after potholes and speed bumps knock off at least one clanky thing per week.
5) The movie theater has a popcorn condiment stand with 4 different gallon-sized shaker bottles of monosodium glutamate: 1) Salt and Vinegar 2) Chicken flavor 3) Beef flavor and 4) Original.
6) A full plate of lunch in the hospital cafeteria is $4, but a full plate without the two small cubes of beef is $0.25
7) Batswana men in caps and goggles exercise in the pool by sitting on the wall for an hour and then hitting the steam room.
8) The phrase: “There are no crocs” translates to: “There are many small crocs.”
9) If medicine doesn’t work out, I can strike gold teaching 3-yr-olds to blow bubbles underwater.
10) There is not a single place in the city or in the bush where it’s inappropriate to get drunk and dance on tables.
My jaw dropped. "SO PAINFUL." Those are not emergency department records forming that barricade between me and my research. Those are thousands of "old hospital charts" with the word "CONFIDENTIAL" across the front. 
Lame and I brought along buddy Dagan, an internal medicine attending working in Botswana for Harvard's new education program. He works in Molepolole, which is about an hour outside of Gabs, and he oversees anywhere from 1 to 6 Beth Israel residents visiting at a time. Dages takes great care of his residents, driving them to and from Molepolole and showing them the Gabs activities and nightlife (which basically means he goes to the yacht club a lot). I don't know what they'd do without him...or wait, I do, because while he was still attending in the US in January to keep his academic title, my phone inherited the blessing of residents calling with flat tires and bad direction sense.
The rest of bachelorette weekend was relaxing and fun. I taught a swim lesson to a Penn ID doc's 3-yr-old son, and despite the tummy ache and sob-fest at the end of the lesson, I don't think I failed completely. All I have to say is thank God for Finding Nemo and noodle horsies.
Chibuku, also known as Shake-Shake, is the traditional brew in Botswana. It's fermented Sorghum, and you know you have a good carton when it's nearly exploding with gas. It has the consistency of milk that's gone bad to the point of having chewy particles, but it tastes more like a mixture of yogurt and vomit. I was told once that it's the perfect snack because it's both food and drink.
If you're thinking, "Oh, that's a nice building behind that giant dumpster," perhaps you're right. It is a nice building. Too bad the medical records are in the dumpster. Let's take a look inside! 
That was easy. You might expect a lock or code or something, right? Wrong again. When chief nurse Mma Malatsi showed me the trailer, we had such a hard time opening the door with its complicated double lever contraption that had to be twisted at precisely the same angle at the same time, that she decided no one would bother trying to get in, and a lock was therefore unnecessary. That was great news for me, since I was going to be opening that contraption at least twice a day. I cannot tell you how many nurses have cracked up at the sight of me in a dress dripping in sweat as I try to pull both levers with all my might. They are probably thinking the same thing I was the first time: Why is she trying to open that dumpster?
Another great part about the space is that whenever it's cloudy or past 5pm, the room goes completely dark, and the single overhead light has not worked in a year. At first I used a headlamp, but now I straight up bring in my bedside lamp each day.
Here's the best part. Lunch! This is called a "fat cake." It's a ball of sweet dough deep fried in oil. All it's really missing is powdered sugar. There are hundreds of carts that sell these on the street everyday. Lucky for me, there's one right outside the ED.