HAIR AND THERE: SHARED STORIES OF MEXICO

Zihuatanejo. Cathy and I are on holiday. She's escaped the cold snows of Canada and is celebrating her week in the warmth of this Mexican Pacific coast town. In the heat of the day I find it easy to agree with Cathy that I need a haircut.

I ask the fellow at the hotel reception where the nearest peluqueria is located. It's near-bye and he googles a map for the area, prints it out and pencils in the location. I also ask how much it should cost. 50 pesos, I'm told.

After breakfast and some leisurely morning reading we head out into the sunshine. We find "Lillian's Esthetics."  She is busy with tourists getting pedicures and I schedule for 12:30. Cathy and I do a walk-about including finding out that there is a 9 a.m. Sunday Mass at a church a few blocks from the hotel. On our way back, with 15 minutes to put in before the hair appointment, we stop at a road-side stall and watch as Isabel squeezes out a glass of orange and mandarin juice for me and orange and papaya for Cathy.

There is a table of fiction paperbacks for sale and a poster advertising a new book by a regular visitor to Zihuatanejo. The poster says that the book is about working on projects for the poor in the local area. My ISW interest perks up. I ask about the book and I am told that the author will show up next morning in the early part of the day. I think that I will try to get my hands on that book.

Now I'm in the chair at "Lillian's Esthetics."  I say I want the hair cut short. We get chatting. I mention that I have come from San Cristobal de las Casas. She tells me that she has recently been there herself. I tell her that I arrived just as the funeral services for Bishop Samuel Ruiz were coming to a close. She knows about the funeral and indicates that it was at the end of January. She was especially impressed by the Santo Domingo church. I tell her that is where I got my photo of the President of Mexico.

She says that she learned about "jade" in San Cristobal -- green being the most common colour. You polish jade with jade. If it is not a very hard stone then it is not authentic jade. She talks about another precious stone. It is yellow and clear. She can't remember the name of it. I say "ambar." She tells me that if a flame melts the stone it is a plastic imitation, not ambar.

Cathy sits patiently reading her novel while my hair falls and the conversation picks up energy. Isabel has been to the Lacandona rain forest and to the Maya sites -- Bonampak and Palenque. We agree that Palenque is most impressive. She likes the story that is told of the king with one leg longer than the other, family members with six fingers. A tourist pops her head in the door and asks for a time to come with her son to have his hair done. She is told it will be 90 pesos. I am ready with my 100 pesos, 90 plus tip. Cathy and I head off for lunch and siesta.