the adventures of dos tortas

Moving to Bacalar, Mexico has meant that I haven’t had the resources of the healing community found in my hometown of Austin, Texas, or so I thought.

Let me back up. I have had a series of health challenges that have snowballed due to the use of antibiotics to treat a recurrent urinary track infection. From there, I began having red raised welts all over my body that came and went. Next was the abdominal pain that kept me awake at night. There is nothing more maddening than symptoms that come and go and can’t be pinned down. I have been to four doctors and had numerous tests, blood, urinalysis, CAT scan, ultrasound, even a colonoscopy. Nada, nothing, zilch, nary a polop was discovered. I’ve also had lots of prescriptions, more antibiotics, steroids, creams, and intestinal drugs. We won’t even talk about the expense.

It’s so easy to blame health problems on living in Mexico. After all I was never sick in the US. Ha, I was too busy to be sick and I refuse to fall into that rabbit hole.

This week Lisa made an appointment with our friend and health practitioner Irlein. She and her husband Marcos moved to Laguna Bacalar about this time last year. Irlein has trained for years with a Mayan healer to learn traditional herbs, massage and ancient healing treatments. The experience was amazing.

Soaking in a hot herbal bath.

The day-long process began with lots of preguntas about my symptoms, my self-assessment, what I’ve tried etc. We moved on to a limpia, cleansing with herbs, smoke and chanting. I soaked for hours in a hot herbal bath and periodically jumped in the laguna. Irlein scrubbed my body with course sea salt. The time was spent listening to my inner wisdom, to the messages on the wind and from the laguna. The sense of peace I experienced was deep and profound.

Massage room with a view.

When I was finished soaking Irlein gave me a relaxing massage. The day was filled with love and connection, silence and prayer. A voice told me that I try too hard. It’s time to let life unfold and not push it. Hmmmm.

So how am I feeling three days later? Natural healing is not like taking a pill. The body takes time to right itself. The rash has disappeared ninety-five percent. My stomach is lots better. I am also on my second week of a juice fast, but that’s another blog. I am happy to find a natural healer in Bacalar. Sometimes it takes a village to think outside the medical box. Thank you Irlein for moving to Bacalar.

Sunrise of the week on Laguna Bacalar.

I have always thought I was a good communicator, which of course is the problem. Anytime we’re good at something, it makes it harder to learn.

I have made presentations and conducted training in a room filled with hundreds of people, once with standing room only. My expertise was men and family planning, the needs of young fathers, and the role of routine HIV testing in a reproductive health setting. Maybe if I had a PowerPoint presentation I could communicate better, LOL.

Sunrise near our property.

The trouble is, I don’t usually know there’s a problem until it hits me upside the head. Have you ever had a conversation with someone, a co-worker, spouse or one of your kids and felt like you were each speaking a different language? It’s like that here, because we ARE! Even someone who has a reasonable command of English, doesn’t really. It’s the same with my Spanish. It’s about so much more than words.

We’re trying to build a house. We are unfamiliar with the procedures in Mexico. As foreigners, the bank holds title to our property, even though it’s paid for. We must give the bank power of attorney to sign all kinds of documents to get permission to build. It’s the way things are done. This week I felt like I was living in that old Abbott and Costello routine, “Who’s On First”. It helps to have a sense of humor, but frustrating when the house we thought we’d be living in by now, hasn’t started construction. Not by a long shot.

While I realize this sounds like complaining and breaking the “no complaining in paradise” rule, I hope it isn’t. I love where I live. The process may be moving along at a snail’s pace but it’s moving. This week I sat on our soon to be neighbor’s patio and looked at where our house will stand. I looked at the lake and listened to the birds and could visualize living right here. I could FEEL it.

The view from our dock.

Folks ask often how the house is coming along and I have avoided discussing it. The answer is slowly, very slowly, often due to a failure to communicate.