One of Deborah's criteria for choosing our future home – a criteria that is totally alien to me – is the availability of affordable manicures, pedicures, facials, massages, and other assorted girly fluffing and puffing treatments. On this winter's trip she has done a bit of “research” in this most important field of study. She and Nancy had manicures and pedicures in Oaxaca shortly after Nancy's arrival. The charge to each of them for both beauty treatments, which lasted about 2 hours, was only about US$20. They both seemed happy with the results, at least initially. Later Deborah realized the hardworking girl worked a little too hard at sanding the crusty skin off her feet, going so deep as to expose some wounds that took several days to heal.
Undeterred, she and Nancy later signed up for a pre-Hispanic indigenous spa treatment known as Temazcal. This involves a sweat-lodge-like experience meant to cleanse the mind, body and spirit. As I understand it, the ladies sit in a semi-claustrophobic space with some steamy volcanic rocks which cause them to sweat profusely. Meanwhile an indigenous healer lightly strikes various of their body parts with healing herbs and does a bit of singing/chanting. This is followed by a gentle body massage. Deborah and Nancy enjoyed this strange experience but again, Deborah later developed complications in the form of contact dermatitis on her arms and legs where the “healer” beat her with the weeds. Thanks a lot.
Deborah's third foray into the world of Mexican fluffing and puffing happened today as her slightly delayed Valentine's Day present. She arranged for a series of treatments at a spa in Ajijic which lasted 3-1/2 hours and included a facial, full body massage, full body exfoliation and moisturizing, a foot treatment which included sanding down the feet, massaging them with oil, brushing on hot paraffin wax, wrapping them in plastic and putting on heated booties, and a body wrap in which she was wrapped snugly in hot, wet ace bandages on the upper legs, upper arms, and torso. Total cost: about US$100, not including tip, which she insists is a good deal for all those treatments and what amounted to one of her favorite spa days ever.
Afterward she was fairly glowing and totally relaxed, or possibly just tired since the previous night she was battling the aftereffects of consuming a bad egg the day before. It's our own fault about the egg. In Fiji we were pretty diligent about testing eggs beforehand. You just plop them in a pan of water and see if they sink to the bottom (good), stand upright on the bottom (not as good, but still okay), or float (bad). Deborah must have gotten a floater yesterday. It's a shame she isn't scheduled to get her colonoscopy now as she would need no further preparatory cleansing. We'll be checking all of our eggs from now on.
I had my own gastronomic “upheaval”, so to speak, in Mérida some weeks ago. I suspect either the cilantro or a certain avocado used in the guacamole we made for ourselves, but it's hard to know for sure. We were told the water in Mérida was okay to drink, but that information came from the Crazy Drunken Expat Landlady and therefore is suspect. We were mostly drinking bottled water anyway, which tasted better, but brushed our teeth and made tea with tap water. In hindsight, I did have a slightly queasy stomach off and on, and it seems the guacamole sent me over the edge with a night of praying to the porcelain goddess. I was fairly wiped out the next day but then recovered quickly. In both Oaxaca and here in Chapala the homes we've stayed at have purified water systems so the tap water is no problem. We have also been taking the additional cautionary step of disinfecting our produce – at least that which we aren't peeling or cooking – by soaking it in water for a few minutes with a few drops of disinfectant made just for that purpose. It's not a big deal and it does keep us healthy. Unless, of course, you eat a bad egg.
It looks good, but don't forget to disinfect.
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