Mexican medicine,etc.

 My cold has finally been cured by time and the 3 medications I got in Manzanillo and took with lots of water, no alcohol and blind confidence.  I had meant to look up their names on the internet but typically didn't.  Now I'm working on my shoulder with less success.  Ken and Caroline walked me down to catch the rickety, blue and white Mojoneres city bus to the main bus station in P.V.  For the first time since I've been in Mexico this year, a person got on to try to sell something.  He was a well dressed young man whom I was going to look at but ignore until I understood that he was talking about a miracle cream that contained arnica.  I've heard about the wonders of arnica for years from Rosanda and Dick, but never tried it.  I perked up.  Now was my chance.  According to the man, it helps or cures stress, headache, aches in general, bruises, arthritis, chicken pox marks, incontinence (where you rub it for this I can't imagine) and inflammations of all sorts.  This particular bottle of mauve coloured cream also contains belladona and regularly costs 54.50 peso.  He was offering it to us for only 20 pesos.  Then he handed a bottle to almost everyone on the bus, and many more, including me, bought it than gave it back.  I have been rubbing it on my shoulder at least 3 times a day for 3 days now and can't say that I'm ready to lift anything heavier than a coffee cup with my right hand, but it does seem to hurt less when I move it than it has done since I fell on the ice in Kelowna.  I'm going to try it out playing tennis with Rod this afternoon.  He's usually a gentleman and gives me easy shots to the forehand, but if he whips one at my backhand and I stupidly go for it, that will be the real test of arnica.  On  Feb. 9 I have an appointment with the dentist in P.V. for a check up.  I'm looking forward to being in good shape when we go to Hawaii.

It is now 10:55a.m., and I am sitting in the doorway of my room in the Hotel Brisis del Mar in Rincon de Guayabitos, just a 2 min. walk through an empty lot and over a swing bridge from Barb and Rod's place.  

The hotel presents the contrasts so often encountered in Mexico, classic colonial style, clean white concrete arches, blue and white tile floors, lovely garden and pool, but lots of things don't work.  It's close to the ocean, but not the real tourist zone, so I'm the only guest at the moment and from the state of things there appear not to have been many people staying here in the last while.  My room looks fine and opens on to the garden and pool.  The morning sun rises over the Sierra Madre Occidental, and the hibiscus in the garden are lovely, but many things don't work.  Of 2 gas burners, only one lights, but I'm not doing much cooking.  The shower is tepid at best, but I go on so much about being able to swim in Lake Superior that I don't feel I can complain.  But  I drew the line when the bed lamp didn't turn on.  I love to read in bed, so I asked Jose, the man on night duty, to try to repair it.  He did, but not as I expected he would.  I went off to bike, walk, watch the Australian Open or do something with Barb and Rod.  When I returned a few hours later, I saw that the light worked.  Then, I went to take my laptop out of the bedside cupboard only to discover that it wasn't there, neither were any of the t shirts I had used to cover it.  I panicked (I still haven't learned not to) and ran to Jose to say someone must have stolen them.  He looked puzzled, and I discovered that my ability to speak Spanish was not as great as I had been flattering myself it was.  He said nobody could have come in.  I asked if Carlos, the person whose sex I can't quite determine, who has just been hired to look after the desk in the daytime could be trusted and he said, yes.  He then suggested that the things might be in the room I had stayed in on the first night because my room wasn't ready yet, whatever that means since the problems I listed above were still in my room when I moved in the next day.  I said that that was not possible because I hadn't unpacked in the first room, knowing that I would be moving.  I, however, was ignorant of the fact that as the lamp was bolted to the bed stand, Jose had moved them together into the first room and taken the two there together into my room.  He insisted we look.  I followed hopelessly, and presto, there were the laptop and t shirts.  What relief for both of us.  He then asked me to teach him English and I happily agreed.  Now if I work on my Spanish, he studies his English and I stay here for about a year, Jose and I shouldn't have any more communication problems.  That's not going to happen, I don't think.  As I get older, I learn less quickly and I'm less sure of what the future might hold.