This is a taclate tree. It looks benign, no thorns, it’s not statuesque, but it is the perpetrator of an itchy, painful rash for those who are allergic to it. Like Felipe.

Felipe is of the same, avoid the doctor at all cost mindset as I am, and he loves to try folk remedies , so as usual he went to his mother for advice about this malady.

First, she said, make a paste of wood ashes and water, cake this on your rash and then peel it off and make tamales from the paste.

Keep in mind that lye is made of wood ash, so the paste burned and blistered Felipe’s already irritated skin. But he endured the ordeal to test the remedy, the hope of relief and to avoid a doctor visit.

Then, she told him, throw the tamales at the tree, try to make them stick, and swear at it! “Hijo de tu puta madre, dejame en paz desgracaido.”

Coincidently, he had an opportunity to try another folk remedy within an hour of the tamale throw. Stung by a huge pissed off scorpion, he did as suggested to him by his friend the Brujo— tourniquet the limb and down generous amounts coffee and mezcal.

Within the hour we were on the way to the medico, the poison racing into his respiratory system, his fingers turning blue.

When asked about the rash, the doctor said it was a common ailment, but that Felipe couldn’t be treated for a couple of days because of the scorpion sting. He looked forward to some improvement from the folk remedy.

I’m afraid not. Except for the areas that were burned to numbness by the lye(maybe that was the cure?)  he continued to itch, and so spent the next two days recovering from the sting with the rash as a side dish of misery.

Perhaps our recent mishaps with self-healing will inspire a bit more modern thinking in us with our next health concern.

I don’t know though, I am pretty anxious to try the remedy for sties: hold a bowl over your eye and have someone throw pebbles at it while swearing at the sty and the mal aire (bad juju) that brought it to you.

I’m fascinated by the concept of profanity and mock violence as cure, and have yet to unravel the significance of ashes and tamales.  Any ideas?

© 2013 Abby Smith, Writer


New Digs

Lately, I have been broadcasting from the clinic in La Tigra which now has Satellite internet. The modem is on the other side of that wall, and so I get the strongest signal here on top of the biohazard bin. Of course I think this is hysterically funny.
Just wanted to catch you up on my location. Paz, Abby

Lady Parts

I know you’ve all been wondering how my peri-menipuase is coming along. Apparently I am a terrible diagnostician

Our Lady of the Waiting Room

Our Lady of the Waiting Room

I am not experiencing said affliction but rather, a more complicated illness; the treatment will involve expulsion of offending lady parts. The good news, other than that I anticipate feeling better soon, is it affords another opportunity to tell you about Mexico’s healthcare system.

Since my self-treatment for the ongoing aliment  did not alter my symptoms sufficiently I was forced to see a specialist. Having just read Babbitt and The Unsettling of America, specialist, comes out sounding like a dirty word these days. Continue reading