PHOTOS: Barra De Navidad in Mural! Churros!
Dear Blob,
This has been one of those travel-days when one is ready to:
A. Change one's ticket home to Right Now
B. Flee for the nearest 4-star hotel, which should be fairly nice in Mexico.
C. Think often about The Donner Party and their trials and tribulations.
D. Feel deserving of Chips Brand Chips, Beer & Churros all at the exact same time. (didn't really happen)
E. Consider what a 3rd World Country is like, as Mexico is only a "Developing Nation".
I remember this day when I was traveling in Southeast Asia; it happened on the Thai island of Ko Chang, when, exhausted from a 12 hour bus ride through Cambodia, I and my travel-companion were hoodwinked into pre-paying for 2 nights at a sub-par Australian Party-Resort. It was a different Difficult that dealing with Fleas in Mexico; the main problem today being 2 nights with poor sleep. Anyone who wakes up on a dining room table is bound to be wearing crankypants & bitchy boots.
Daniel, the Mexican Fumigator, shocked us all by arriving promptly at 1:30. A thorough investigation of Casa Azul revealed dozens of fat spider nests 'n' eggs; the Fleas were elusive, but Daniel was confident they were living in the furniture. Unfortunately, he was unable to spray for both at the same time and we were forced to choose. We went with Fleas.
Remember the famed neighborhood Dryer, recently acquired by our neighbor Laura? We were probably the first lucky neighbors to enjoy the privilege of it's heat-power. We took all the bedding, linens and clothing of the house and loaded it in her dryer to kill the fleas 'n' eggs. After pleading with Daniel to fumigate today, he said to expect him at 5pm.
Daniel the Fumigator is the first Early Mexican I've ever met. He was on LA-Actor's Time, showing up 20 minutes before 5, while we were attempting to eat our first food of the traumatic day. Not only did he show up early, but before we could even greet him, the man had his poison sprayer out and began indiscriminately, squirting poison everywhere. He got my backpack, almost got our lunch, which had been a debacle in itself, involving mayonnaise, my most-hated food-item and was ready to spray us, when we hastily found keys, packed our purselets at hopped on bikes, in search of a fancy hotel pool to sneak into.
Once we got to town, we couldn't find the house keys, which Jessica determined she left at the house. She raced back to Casa Azul, while I, hippie-like, collapsed on the ground, under a shady tree, confusing the fleets Wealthy Mexican tourists, as I have neither dreadlocks or tie-dye and I was not selling handmade hemp jewelery.
20 minutes later Jessica returned, beet-red, upper-lip glistening with bike-sweat; both of us were sheathed in perspiration, like the gelatinous sheen on chicken after it's been in the fridge overnight. She was keyless. The first time I trusted her with the keys and she lost them. The good news is they were actually hidden in one of our bags. In our haste to not be poisoned by Daniel's speed-spraying, she'd forgetfully dropped them in a secret pocket.
Just re-telling this story exhausts me further. We ended the difficult day being allowed by a hotel to drink cervezas poolside, but not allowed to actually go in their pool. We did anyway and then made BFF with all the vacationing children, who were thrilled to practice their English on us. There was a cold-shower by the pool, overlooking a gorgeous ocean with sun-glisten-sparkles, so we stayed cool and our senses of humor were restored by hilarious children, who remain the same throughout the world: joyful, curious & life-affirming.
One girl asked me in Spanish if I ate eggs at my Grandma's house. We blew a couple kids from LA's minds, when they learned that we too, were from LA! The LA kids, from Highland Park, enjoyed guessing my age, which went from 14 to 48 in the same breath.
Currently, we are back at Casa Azul, our beds remade, our fingers crossed. There are still hundreds of spiders and flying cockroaches to contend with and if the fleas are not gone, we flee to a hotel.
In other news, the debacles should not overshadow the Good & Interestingness of Mexico; I'm constantly impressed by most Mexican's eagerness to help, no matter what the circumstances. A nice couple on a date dirtied their hands helping me fix my broken bike chain, in the rain.
I was considering the un-diversity of Mexico, when I remembered I'm in a tiny Mexican beach town. If a Mexican came to a tiny town in just about anywhere, America, s/he too, would be surprised at the un-diversity of America. Diversity lives in Big Cities.
Mexicans Love Plastic Bags & Styrofoam Plates.
Love The Ukulady
ps: Chicken City is a good name for a Cartoon City.
pps: A lot of cameltoe around here.
ppps: I don't think I'm young enough to be interested in dealing with the 3rd world. That means ebola, malaria, dengue & yellow fever, no indoor plumbing and more. I'm old; for a 14 year old.
pppps: Larry told me he upped my status to Senora because most folks around here cannot understand how I could possibly be unmarried & childless and in my 30's! Unfathomable.
