La Limpieza

I know it's been a while since my last entry, so I apologize for the apparent banality of my chosen topic, but I just have to get his off my chest: cleaning in Mexico is hilarious.

Sure Mexicans are notorious for sweeping the sidewalks and the streets in front of their homes. But I doubt that this actually achieves the goals of removing dirt -- instead it just moves the dirt from the ground to the air where one of two things happens. 1) The dirt is enhaled by passersby like me, who sneeze appoximately 25 times a day. 2) The dirst blows around until a draft of cool air carries it into a home, where it settles on bedsheets, kitchen counters, hallway floors, and oven burners. The result? Everything needs to be dusted once a day. But people dust with the same rag everyday, resulting in the creation of a muddy paste of dirt and water. When wiping doesn't suffice anymore, people use laundry detergent to wipe down the counters in the kitchens and bathrooms. So everything smells linen fresh, but nothing is actually disinfected! This is all fine by me because everyone's clothes smell great, but sprinkling powdered laundry detergent on my bathroom coutner every Sunday still seems a bit bizarre. However, I am building up a grand immunity to Mexican germs.

And I do have to admit that I have come to love cleaning here. All the floors are tiled. In fact my entire bathroom and kitchen are tiled up to the ceiling. So when it's time to clean, we just thrown buckets of water everywhere and after an hour it all drains away or evaporates. Sometimes I think it would be best to do it all carwash style -- in my bathing suit with music blaring and a gang of friends. But then again, I clean with laundry detergent so whatever splashes onto my clothes only makes them fresher!


On another, completely unrelated note -- someone kidnapped my family's little dog, Frida, last night. She was small and gray and had a curly tail that wagged in circles. She shall be missed. Her owner, my hostsister Jossie, is unaware of her disappearance because she is away at university and only comes home on weekends. I fear her reaction when she discovers this tragedy. I plan to strategically avoid my house this Friday afternoon. The kidnapping occurred sometime between 5 and 9pm. She is afraid of the street, so she couldn't have run away. But one of the painters who was working on the front of the house left the gate open and my host mom is certain that someone came in and took her. ¡Pobrecita, Frida! I hope she has found a new, happy home.