Manos Que Curan

(The three of us heading for our first real day in Miraflores-pardon the self-portrait)

I had a feeling from seeing the clinic building yesterday that it would not be as i've pictured. And its not.

We started today with high spirits, a credit for certain to a 12 hour solid night's sleep. Well earned. After getting ready, we head out for a little exploring before heading to the clinic appointment at 3pm. Its much easier to gain our bearings by the light of day. And today, it is brighter, I've even spotted the sun, which in itself is cause for celebration. Its quickly swallowed by a 'marine layer' however, which i'm certain is mostly pollution. You can smell it.

Lunch is found at a restraunt: the Mezze Cafe, a few blocks from the apartment on the way to the bank where we're headed to get the deposit dinero for Hugo. The girls that wait on us are almost too kind. We're still getting the hang of ordering food. Kat's meal looks the best, there's beef and veggies and rice. Its nice to have some real food. The waitresses help us call a cab, and after an exhausting episode trying to get into the cab, we're finally on the way to the clinic.

(Teresa and Katrina at Mezze Cafe)

We buzz in and a round, quiet peruvian woman comes to let us through the large wraught iron gates. Through another locking door on the inside of the structure is the waiting area. Its small, non descript. No signage, all in all very un-noticable. It smells strongly like a more organic Ben-Gay cream. We wait a few moments and a woman in blue scrubs and gleaming white shoes comes to greet us. 'Teresa?' We're excited. She shows us back to a treatment room in the back of the clinic. The place is small, hard to navigate via wheelchair. But we've made it.

Dr. Laura finally makes her appearance and there is palpable excitment and relief. Well, she speaks no english, but the relief is still there, only accompanied by my inherited spanish-english dictionary and Dad's copy of 201 Spanish Verbs- its come in VERY handy. Thanks Pop.

Her assistant is introduced and they start work on Teresa's feet and legs first. Applying a strongly scented green cream in what looks like recylced baby food jars, the smell grows more intense. Ben-Gay, most definately. Teresa manages to ask what is in the cream enough for Dr. Laura to understand: Plantas...animales...

Dr. Laura is warm, and I imagine from all the subsidiary laughing around the clinic, very funny as well. Tears are almost unavoidable, as we've finally gotten here. Its absolutely a triumph for these three travelers. Dr. Laura's assistant tries to ask if anything hurts as he massages behind her knee. I try to explain how Teresa has explained it to me: its painful, but it hurts so GOOD. Its not an easy exchange. There is a lot of gesturing on my behalf.

After about an hour and a half of rubbing the cream and massaging, its time to go. But first we get some directions: no showering for what we think is 24hrs, and before showering her, we must rub her with lemons. That part we are sure about. Lemons. Check. Dr. Laura hugs us goodbye and makes sure we'll see her again Saturday.

We're excited to run into Lino again outside the clinic, he mentions he's tried to call the apartment, but we've been out. Since the weather is nice, we ask if we could walk back to the apartment. He shows us the map and explains its about 12 blocks. I'm not sure what his idea of blocks is, but its nothing like mine, or Katrina's, or Teresa's. The walk is nearly too much for Teresa as the sidewalks are unimproved and the ride is terribly bumby and uncomfortable for her.

We make it back to the apartment only a little worse for the wear, but at least the long walk has afforded us a few glimpses of what promises to be a breathtaking coastline. I can't wait to see it by a clear sky. Rest is in order for Teresa, and its time for food again.

Katrina and I head for the Vivanda, a little more comfortable in our surroundings, and after wrangling with some unrecognizable packaging and some eggs that were not refigerated (still wondering about that...any thoughts on whether they're safe to eat? odd to just see eggs on the shelf.)

Back in the apartment to some familiar tunes, I'm making dinner...something i'm not especially good at but at which Katrina swears she is worse. We've got rice, carrots, asparagus, and zuchinni...its not much but after some boiling and some buttering, its not bad. Especially to have greens in our bellies again.