I remember joking with Jose about the massages that were supposed to alter one's DNA. Then when I went upstairs to investigate, I discovered that he had trained all of the masseuses. At this moment Evita was headed toward the table and I began to chat with the young girl who was poised to give her a massage.
"No, todo es gratis," she explained to me. "Es que estamos cambiando el mundo, poco a poco. Y si, creemos con certitude que provoca alteraciones en el DNA este tipo de masaje."
So it's true, I thought. Not only do they believe that they are changing the genetic make-up of the people they massage, they are doing this as a free service. Although I found this interesting, and it embarrassed me somewhat that I had joked about the DNA-changing, what really bothered me was that Jose didn't want to dance with me.
Now, I understood that his wife was there, with their sweet little girl, but the Beatles music was really pumping from the balcony below. Besides, why would you be concerned with DNA transformations and not want to dance? The energy one exudes in movement may not directly affect the genetic code, but it sure as heck lifts the corazon. When push comes to shove, I am not embarrassed one iota to step out on the dance floor by myself, and raise my cardiac vibrations to a new level. Hence, when "Get Back" began with the bass guitar thumping that danceable rhythm, off I went to set my soul free on the crowded dance floor/patio, solita, among the Waldorf new wave of san miguelenses.
Nothing spectacular happened after I danced to a few tunes. I located Evita, who was ready to leave, also, and I left the House of Angels not realizing that both its gorgeous surroundings and the DNA theme would draw me back inside within a week. The Maya had come to town.