Call in the Bomberos! The Submarine is Fix'd

December 28, Eugene left San Miguel for Philly, nice and early at 4 AM for a week trip back to the states. At 8 AM I reved up the Submarine to take Lama to the park, and found promptly that the sub was leaking gasoline - muy rapidamente... an attempt was made to drive to the mechanic maestro 'Pilly's', but finally our beloved sub stalled - and would go no further. With luck, this happened on the bigger two - way street in town, Zacateras, and very close to Pilly's. With some encouragement and instructions from the car wash guy in front of Pancho's Realty, the Transito was called, Policia and the Bomberos arrived 'somewhat' promptly and checked out the busted fuel tank. Then, as with all law enforcement in Mexico, the officials took turns adoring Lamacita Gordita.
One of the bomberos translated the fuel tank problem into spanish and wrote that down for me (since Erika's vocabulary of car parts is not the strongest aspect of her spanish.) The tow truck arrived, and for $185 pesos (That's less than $20 dollars) hauled the Mexican Submarine one block up the street and deposited it at Pilly's.
Pilly was not there, but the 'maestro' of the day was Herrardo, and he agreed to check it out. Garages in Mexico are quite different than those in the USA; normally each mechanic shop has a team of guys that work for the owner, and a 'maestro' who is in control of the project, and who directs the team of mechanics and mechanic apprentices. Also, normally in Mexico you only find cute blondes on the wall calendar. Ah, but the adventure continues!
The next day, a new day. At 9 AM we set off for a dog walk, and not halfway down the road to the park were we, walking with some young mexican kids, when a wasp attacked. I felt the sting in my neck - it got me right under the ear. The kids must have thought I was crazy, swatting uselessly around me at nothing, because the wasp was nested right in the top of my freshly shampooed head. I located it, grabbed it with my hand and too a look before thrusting it away: a giant, orange, mouse-sized mexican wasp. It was so strange looking I worried that I might die in a half hour or be paralyzed on the left side.
We trotted to Zacateras towards the Gypsy Cafe, thinking my friends might be there to give me an ice pack, but the cafe was closed - I worried, since it has never been closed on a beautiful morning like this one.
I paused to think, and just then a big blonde american woman, wearing a great quantity of lipstick, and denim shirt, pulled over in her suburban to talk to me in her Texan accent. "What a great dog you have! Can I talk to you about these things?" I hesitated, dizzy now with worry, and my neck was not moving to the left. She started in with gabbing about dogs and I interrupted her, "Sorry, but does my neck look all swollen, bloody and bruised and or paralysed from an amazing wasp that just attacked me?!!" Oh, well, she says, she's an R.N. and now notices that my neck is quite swollen indeed, and there is a small amount of blood, nothing too bad. Her name is Jean, and lives on Umaran. She recommends I get some Benadryl at the Pharmacia Guadalajara, just a few blocks away. After a little more talking (she seems to love to speak english with me for one reason or another) I make my way to the pharmacy and get a bottle of Benadryl. The pain in my neck is causing a lateral headache and my throat is throbbing. I think also clearly enough to buy a can of juice to place on my neck to ease the swelling which is huge now.
The car wash guy from yesterday sees me and also wants to talk, how is the car, how are you doing with you husband so far away now, etc. I dodge his over-friendliness by ducking into the newspaper vendor. Another man says, "Wow, que tranquilla perra tu tienes!" I say thanks, and grab my paper, turning to leave, but this dude wants to flirt too. I try to say goodbye, but then Jean appears, in the doorway, to check on me: "Did you get that Benadryl?" I thank her again for this rather obvious advice, and hurry off to the solace of the Parque Benito Juarez. Lama and I sit and enjoy watching the locals shoot hoops, a moment of peace, and I can tell - again - this day has already had it in for me - me alone (but never lonely) in Mexico for the Happy New Year.
We make our way back to the Colonia Allende, another twenty minutes away. The Benadryl has made me sleepy, and I still can not turn my neck. The inflammation does not change much with the dose. Once at home, I immediately get out the Chinese Medicine Box for a real remedy - to cure the toxic heat and clear the blood stagnation from the attack. Topical blood moving herbs, and clearing heat herbs, along with some moxibustion at the point of the sting, all combine and my neck moves fully now from side to side. However, the inflammation doesn't change much and the stinging sensation of the insect remains, stabbing every few seconds and sending pain down my left side. I have more herbs in my kit, and I'll go down the list trying things that I have, until I am well. I am determined to not let the day sweep me by as it did yesterday!
Later in the afternoon the Submarine is ready. New, functioning fuel line plus labor: $250 pesos. (That's about 25 bucks.) Scene of cute blonde with swollen wasp attack neck in the mechanic's garage on Zacateras: priceless!

Pilly's is one of the mechanics in San Miguel de Allende we can definitely recommend from multiple experiences and friends' recommendations. AutoMotriz "Pili" Calle Ancha de San Antonio #51, SMA, Gto. tel 152-61-26