It’s been a week since we (my fellow UVM resident, Dave, and I) arrived via a bumpy landing at Harare International Airport to start a month-long obstetrics rotation at one of Zimbabwe’s tertiary medical centers. At times cautiously navigating a foreign system and at others readily integrating into seemingly universal medical practices (daily rounds, admissions, systematic gathering of patient data), we are learning that being a doctor in Zimbabwe is in some ways unrecognizably distinct and in others comfortable, familiar. Before I go further, I want to clarify something: throughout my preparations for this trip, I received a lot of undue praise from friends, family, and patients about how great it is that I would travel to Zimbabwe for a "medical trip," with the assumption being that I am somehow going to accomplish something great or to "save" people from death or illness. While I would love to be able to end vertical HIV transmission or to vaccinate eve...