The Mennonite Woman's Escape Part 3
Going to a bookstore was, to me, was like being allowed to pick up as much candy as I wanted without an adult telling me no.
I picked up a book I'd heard women talk about for a long time and had seen traded at the Flea Market. I also picked up magazines that I'd seen others reading. I was surprised at what was in them, and I was red-faced as I read them, but I read them.
Before, I couldn't look at any books or magazines because I was a Mennonite wife and woman. We were required only to read the Bible and approved books of the church.
On the drive down, being allowed to drive was a joy. I had driven to help with harvesting, go to the flea market to sell, or go to the co-op to pick up food and supplies. Driving and seeing the change in scenery was almost as good as sitting in the passenger seat, watching the scenes go by as we headed south.
When we stopped at what Mike called the midway point, I was again scared of what could happen. This time, I wasn't only alone with Mike; but I was in a foreign country.
No one knew where I was, and no one was looking for me there.
As we walked across the street to the restaurant and Mike introduced me to the owners, everything changed for the better.
I had never had conversations that were so unstructured, so much fun as I had the last two days.
Mennonite women and men have a very limited vocabulary and subjects: family, work, religion, and other things that can be talked about, but only in passing.
This life is so different. We talked freely and happily. We talked about the food and how it was made in every detail.
They had enjoyed watching me eat, and I had so much fun eating their food, laughter, and their freely offered friendship.
The Mennonite culture is so restricted and formal that it's impossible to describe to an outsider, but understand this is an engrained form of actions and beliefs.
The ride down was wonderful, as I was able to see the sights, villages, and people along the way. To be able to discuss them with Mike was enlightening because he knew so much about Mexico.
Arriving at the house and finding out it was his house was very comforting until we found out that Benjamin had been killed. After talking to my daughter and the police, I was very upset and saddened. Mike assured me I was still welcome to stay.
Setting up the computer in the room I would rent was another form of freedom for me. I would be able to contact my daughter and see the world with it.
Going to dinner at a restaurant serving foods from 3 countries other than Mexician was a fun exploration.
Making an appointment at the spa scared me, but I had to go or not enjoy it here as much as I could. It was the "English" thing to do.
The next morning's bus ride to and from the market showed me there wasn't a problem getting around on my own if I needed to. The people here liked interacting with us.
I instantly understood the market and the people. The Spanish language was hard for me to understand, but we worked at making ourselves understood for sales.
Years of bartering and trading made it fun. I use that word so much here because that is what I feel, and as we got to know each other and the people here, it would get better, I was sure.
In the past, Mike would say to friends "that he wasn't a Texan when he was in Mexico because he didn't eat beef there." It was clear why after seeing all the vegetables, fruits, fish, chickens, and dairy products.
Coming back to the house, Mike demonstrated how to make the fruits and vegetables safe for us to eat.
He had water delivered for the water fountains in the kitchen and each bedroom/bath area.
We cut up what looked like enough salad with chicken for four people, but the two of us cleaned up every scrap of it.
Before I left for the spa, I repeatedly "thanked Mike for bringing me and letting me stay."
I told him I would like to cook for us if he didn't mind. He said, "Yes, we can each cook because I enjoy cooking too. We can either trade off or sometimes both of us cook together".
As I left, I told him, " It might be a while because that was what I was told."
As I walked to the spa, I thought about what I was going to do.
It started when I started getting scared of Benjamin and thought of leaving for my safety.
I knew I would have to disappear, which meant moving and changing my appearance.
A couple of months ago, when one of my booth customers from out of town asked to take my picture, I said, "Yes, if you give me copies."
They mailed them to the Flea Market to the booth. I studied them and saw that everything about my dress had to change.
I started buying outfits from weekend vendors as I could. I kept them at the booth. When Mike closed his booth up for his three-month-long trip, I knew it was time to act. I took the clothes home and packed the little I had.
When he said I could come, I was overjoyed.
That first afternoon, I went to have my hair cut for the first time. I almost cried when I was told about the "Locks for Love" program and was happy to help.
They had asked me about taking pictures of my hair before and after my haircut for their board and sending them to the main office.
I said, "Yes."
They sent one of the girls next door and had pictures made for me.
Now I'm going to a Spa to have the hair removed from my body. This goes against everything the church taught me. I knew that my daughter did it in some ways, but I didn't know to what extent.
I wanted to walk without being always hot and sweaty, swim, and move freer.
When I entered, I saw the same woman I had talked to the night before, Salina. She smiled and said, "I wasn't sure you would show up. We are ready for you. What is in the bag?"
"This is new underwear for after and a gift for swimming, I think. Before we start, I have one question. Can we take pictures as we go?" So I'll have a record of it?" I asked.
"Yes, and I was going to suggest to you. We have visitors from Europe and have the same thing done; they wanted pictures, too," Salina said.
We walked to a room in the back with a barber's chair, a shower, and a huge hot tub. There were two girls back there, too. I met Midge and Blanca; they would perform my makeover.
We opened the bag, and they saw my chosen underwear. They liked it and commented about how right it was for me.
I opened Danna's gift. It was an older-style swimsuit, but it was gorgeous. It was green with mesh side panels. I was in awe.
We all looked and felt it for a few minutes before we got back what I came for.
"They took pictures of me in the tracksuit, with my new camera, front and back. When I took it off, they gasped at the ugliness of my underwear. They said, "You must never wear anything like that again."
I agreed with them.
They started with my legs and arms, with me blushing red from them seeing me and touching me. As they spread their depilatory creams on me, they also started working on my fingers and toenails to fill the time.
When they removed the cream and a lifetime of hair was removed with it, I felt naked and scared again. Looking in the mirror at my arms, armpits, and legs with the nails groomed and painted a pale green, I saw another person there.
Except for the homemade underwear, the hair and body were of another person.
Then, they asked if I wanted one or the other to leave for the next treatment. After thinking about the last hour plus them working and touching me, I said, "Stay."
Removing the bra and underpants was even more emotional for me, but they took of me both before and after the underwear was removed.
When I was splayed in the barber's chair while they were trimming me, I thought I would faint, but I didn't. Then they applied more cream to me four times, twice on both sides. When they finished and I saw my reflection in the mirror, I gasped. It was me, but so different.
They handed me a robe, which I quickly put on as we walked to a bubbling hot tub. They told me they had put herbs into it to help me not have skin problems from the depilatory treatments.
As I slipped from the robe into the hot tub, Midge said, "Do you know who you look like? I shook my head no. You resemble Maureen O'Hara."
Madge asked, "Do you need clothes? A lady that comes in here sometimes is selling nearly new clothes that would fit you, and make you look great. They are in style now, as if they ever went out."
"How much and what are they?" I asked.
Madge left and returned with a two-page handwritten list of clothing that interested me. "They are only three blocks from here, and I can send for some of them now," she said.
"Please, see if you can send some samples for me to see," I requested.
With that, they left, and I heard rapid Spanish spoken in the shop area, followed by a door slamming. I laid back and enjoyed the warm herb-scented water flowing around me.
Madge returned and set up a laptop computer where I could see it. She started showing pictures of Maureen O'Hara, who did look something like me.
Frowning, she switched to a movie called "The Quite Man." She said, "This is one of her family's favorite movies, and she looks more like you now," she said.
Looking in the mirror now and seeing this Maureen O'Hara in the movie, I saw how much we looked alike.
After watching parts of the movie for a few minutes, which I enjoyed and wanted to see the whole movie when doors started being opened and closed with the moving of boxes.
A knock on the door, followed by Blanca and Salina, came in, saying, "Miss Carmen is outside, and she wants to see you and has her clothes with her."
"Okay, tell her to give me ten minutes to get ready. Hand me a towel, Please," I requested.
I started drying myself with the huge towel Blanca handed me as I started to get out. I caught sight of myself in the triple full-length mirror and saw someone different from the woman who asked for help escaping from her husband a few days ago.
After I dried and put on the new pale green lingerie, which souldn't be called underwear, I slowly turned around to watch my newly hairless body. I slowly put the robe back on, thinking I might try on an outfit or two.
When they opened the doors, a whirlwind called Carmen entered. She looked me up and down as a buyer looks at a new product.
She said, "You would do justice to the clothes I want to sell, and they should fit you perfectly. 38 28 36, right?" she looked at Madge, who nodded yes.
"Rachel, my young friends here think you look like Maureen O'Hara. I think you do, too, but you haven't had the upbringing to BE LIKE her.
