Sidelined by La Grippa , the grip. But thank God I am gone from the apartment at Abraham Castellanos and am now at the Casa (Colonial) for a few days, where I can sit in the garden and let the sun soak through me. No running around the city or out to the villages for a few days, no cooking. No chasing after las cucarrachas, who yesterday seemed determined to tell me good riddance, and I them. They are like small military tanks, sending me screaming from the room, which sends them scurrying under the clothes closet. I don’t know why the Casa doesn’t have them, nor does K.T., or Donna Pierce ─ I will have to learn their remedy or else I will have trouble living here. Soledad at El Topil says she doesn’t have them, but I am dubious when she leaves two big vats of mole uncovered overnight in her kitchen.
Teresa and l'otra Soledad are cooking me wonderful meals. Amado, bless his heart, took me to la doctora around the corner from the Casa. There is a new organization called Unidos Para Ayudar, United, to Help. A young doctor sits in a small office from 9 am -9 pm next to a pharmacy. No appointments needed, people are admitted first come, first served. She checked my throat, told me I had an infection, prescribed amoxicillin, cough medicine, ibuprofen for the inflammation in my throat, and something para la nariz, the nose. I paid la doctora 25 pesos (about @ $2 USD) and then $18 USD for the medicine. Amado says this operation is funded by a wealthy man who has some sort of bone to pick with the pharmaceutical industry in Mexico, who knows how long it will last. Esta curioso, like so much else, but you don’t ask too many questions.