Dary 74

DR Day 2 (Sunday): Here we go again. It's 3:40 AM and we are on our way again to the airport. The chaos has already started when we get to the Delta desk. However, the supervising ticket agent prints our boarding passes and we are on our way. Way to easy compared to yesterday. Unbelievable. We obviously weren't suppose to go on Saturday.

We arrive in Santo Domingo at 2 pm. On the flight in we have been praying about our bags (which we put on the plane Saturday) and about making connections to get to the bus station and then to San Juan. I go directly to the luggage claim desk. They check for my bags and tell me the bags were on the plane with us. Seems they held them in Atlanta till we caught up with them 24 hours later. Nice. We collect them and head out the door.

The first thing you notice as you walk out of the air conditioned building is the humidity and then the heat and then the Spanish. A Dominican man walks up to us and asks us in English if we need a ride to Santo Domingo. He is not a taxi driver. He is wearing a resort shirt and name tag. The cautious side of me almost turns him down. However, a voice inside me reminds me that I have being praying for a man to take us. So, we bravely go.

Dario is a crazy driver. He tells us about his family and shows us pictures as he drives. You would think this would make his driving bad, but he is still better than most of the drivers around us that are cutting across lanes and going the wrong direction up the exit ramp. We get to the Caribe Tours at 2:55 pm. They tell me there is a bus to San Juan at 3:30. They won't take my American dollars. It is Sunday and the bank is closed. I run back out to my taxi driver, leave Cass with our luggage (sorry Sal) and Dario takes me to Hotel Lina where they exchange the money for me. Thanks Dario!

We get our bus ticket and sit down for the 20 minute wait. I look again at the ticket and it says, "Rio San Juan". It occurs to me that I want San Juan de la Manguana. I go back up to the information counter and the gal there speaks some English. I find out Rio San Juan is in almost exactly the opposite direction. They exchange my ticket, give me $100 pesos back and we sit back down for the 5:30 departure of our bus. During the 2 hours we watch Spain win the World Cup, hand out some of Cassidy's gum to local kids and makes friends with 3 gals who are seeing their grandma off.

The bus is very nice and we arrive in San Juan at 8 pm. Joe, our host, is there to pick us up. We go to bed at 10 and sleep till 6 the next morning. The earplugs work great to block out the loud music, crowing roosters and motor scooters.

DR Day 3 (Monday): The medical team has added us to their group. Cassidy is assigned to the VBS crew for the morning. She paints the outside clinic wall in the afternoon. Then showers and takes a nap before supper.

I am with the prostetic crew. They have brought 10 legs along to fit patients.

We have to attach the limb to the sheath.

The first gentleman is 80 years old. We teach him how to not only use the new leg, but also how to daily fit it, clean it and protect it.

After lunch I help a little bit with the group painting. Then there is a doctor seeing orthopedic needs. He is swamped with people trying to get into his room. My job for the next few hours will be to try and keep this people happy. I become the Medical Bouncer. I can understand and communicate enough in Spanish to ask them to be patient, settle down, give us time, have a seat. These old ladies are mad and speak so fast I can't understand them. They have no idea I'm not understanding 90% of what they are saying. Probably better that way. What a blessing! One of the ladies posed for the camera, though.

I meet the clinic director. His name is Canario. He is a very good friend of my father. He tells me if I am a son of Jerry, then I am his brother and gives me a huge bear hug. I feel welcomed. That was cool.