It is June and raining. I am slightly sunburned and cold. The long trip, the time change, the altitude, the strange weather combined have made my bones hurt more than usual.
Outside the church this morning, two ladies in red blouses offered me free touch therapy. I have been offered free touch therapy on buses here and in a taxi once. I thought of this as they emphasized the free part and showed me one woman massaging another woman on the opposite sidewalk. “This is what the touch involves,” they explained. Perhaps they knew I was thinking of the taxi ordeal.
“It’s free and based on unconditional love,”they reassured. “It can cure stress, anxiety, and other illnesses.” Perhaps it would heal the pain in my right hand. “It’s free,” they said, offering me a flyer and encouraging me to look it up on the internet.
You know me. I put in some key words. I learned a lot (including how to look up couples and erotic massage in Spanish—should I ever need this information), but I found little about these folks even with their tagline: No hay amor sin hechos (there is not love without action).
shewhodaresnothing 