Welcome to Mega-City One

My first day in the field was...instructive to say the least. I arrived at the end of my journey at about one in the afternoon. Thirteen hundred people in the hamlet, no paved roads.  By the time six o'clock had rolled around, I had visited the clinic I'm working at, sorted out my internet, and found out that my accommodations had been upgraded- instead of being in a dorm, I found myself in a two bedroom apartment all by myself, with plenty of space for me to stretch out in.

I'll be honest, I had been kind of looking forwards to hanging out with the other nurses. But, the place is swanky, roomy and all mine. Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

The view of the bay from my bedroom window.

The community itself is taking some getting used to, I guess. I've gotten a lot of stares, which makes sense- I'm an outsider, and the fact that I'm about a half foot taller than most of the men makes me stand out like a sore thumb. More than 50% of the population here is under eighteen, which is bizarre- kids are everywhere, at every hour of the day. As I'm sitting here writing this at 2100 local, I just watched like four kids whip past my window, laughing and playing with nary an adult in sight. There are also a lot of ill-cared for dogs tied up outside, which is sad.

'Frogmorton', the dog I pet every day to and from work. People shouldn't let me name things. Almost all of the dogs here are tied up like this outside.

The adults are friendly enough, a little standoffish, but I am trying my best to smile at everyone, wave, say hello. I haven't really seen anything that sets off my spidey-sense, but I'm also situated right next to the Mountie detachment office. Even walking the dirt roads, I didn't see any of the detritus you associated with the endemic addiction out here- used needles, empty liquor bottles. No one seemed impaired- but my boss also specifically warned me that Fridays and the end of the month are really when things get brutal out here. I've seen one or two women with obvious signs of DV, but that's been about it. Don't get involved, she says.

Apparently, this is one of the most dysfunctional communities as well, but I haven't seen anything of the sort, beyond a few bruises and scars. I'm kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop. I made gumbo from scratch yesterday, so I should be set for food. I also noticed something strange in the kitchen- no ladles, and no frying pans. Two rice cookers, five pots, eleventy hobillion knives, but not a single pan.

We'll see what tomorrow brings, I suppose.