When I was 4, my parents took my sister and me to live for a year in Guanajuato, Mexico. Dad painted and learned folksongs, mom learned the local folk dances. It didn't take long for Dad to go native. He started drinking the well water among other things . . . and quickly developed hepatitus.
My parents went to local doctor who began treating my dad . . . but he didn't get better. Finally, in desperation, mom asked the latin doctor what was happening. He blithly told her that she would soon be free of her pendejo American husband . . . which meant she'd be free to start seeing him!
In a panic, she gathered us all into the family car and drove two days non-stop back to San Diego. Unfortunately, she became so exhausted she fell asleep at the wheel and the car plunged over a cliff. Luckily, it hit a ledge on the way down and threw all of us out where a shephard found us. We were then airlifted to the States, just in time to save my dad.
I was certainly glad to be back. The child minder we had in Guanajuato used old-school methods for keeping my sister and I in control. She told us there were large, hungry spiders and scorpions hiding in the curtains of our bedroom that she shooed away every night . . . if we were good. The other side of that coin is easy to guess.