Watching everything being done for him, Jack is reminded very much of growing up with his mother. When they would go to temples or when she was first becoming ill and tried going to one of their healers rather than a white doctor who would ignore her. The plants here are different but he knows their for healing. So much of the world is so similar and so unaware of it. That's always amused him almost as much as the differences fascinate him.
The aloe feels cool on his injured skin and he's glad for it. He doesn't feel threatened by the old man, but greatly wishes he could communicate with him. The incense burned may not smell of nag champa, but he feels sure it's meant to purify.
He could likely hold the bowl of water himself, but his arms are still quite sore, so he accepts the help in drinking. The similarity to his childhood goes a bit far when the man pats him on the head. Jack wrinkles his nose a bit at it, but he is being taken care of.