The Cloud

Aromas that we smell can evoke memories from our youth or remind us of special people long since gone. The science behind fragrance is a profound one – the right balance of bases and top notes can create a complicated scent that can either entice or overwhelm. I never thought, however, that perfume could be used to kill others until I went to Mexico City for the first time.

One of the first things I enjoy doing when I visit a new place is to go to the market or grocery store and see what people value and what they buy. The prices of food alone can assist you in comparing one culture to another even if only to equate the new place with your everyday experience. It’s an incredibly eye-opening experience in many ways.  In Mexico City it was more than eye-opening, it was suffocating as well. 

The women at the grocery (the majority of the population were female) were decked out in outfits that looked like they were planning to dance choreographed cha-chas down the aisles. Primped to the nines in makeup and hair-dos pinned and sprayed up to ensure not a single strand was away from their scalps. High heels that raised the women up to precarious heights that baffled observers (hi, that would be me) especially those waiting to see how they could manage to not teeter with bags in their hands (or sprain ankles!). As if this visual spectacle weren’t enough, the senses were provoked even more by ‘the cloud’.

If you paid attention to the first paragraph, you already know what the cloud is. But let me throw some more information at you. Having lived in New York City for most of my life, the suffocating smells of urine and garbage greet me regularly on my wanderings. My gag reflex is used to being able to switch on within milliseconds – shoulders pop up to the ears automatically as if to create a stink-proof barrier. Your feet speed up to propel you out of the stink-zone. Within seconds you move to another odor, usually a neutralizing one, and you are safe. No such thing happens in the cloud. 

You bob and weave in an attempt to avoid the fog in front of you; only to find there is another cloud to your left, to your right, in front and behind of you. This is because everyone wears a diluvial quantity of perfume. Even if you somehow get out of one person’s cloud, you unknowingly move into someone else’s cloud.

I believed this was only something that happened in public in Mexico City, but I was wrong. Family members were often the worst offenders of the cloud. What do you say to someone who wants to greet you with a kiss on the cheek and you feel like you’d rather lick a skunk? You move in quickly and hold your breath in the hopes of avoiding as much damage as possible. But no, you come away smelling of the cloud. Then you move on to the next family member, hold your breath, hug and cheek kiss and you have now unwittingly obtained a portion of their cloud. This continues until you’ve greeted all the relatives and you walk away with a horrific and putrid combination of everyone’s cloud. My eyes are tearing up just thinking about it.

Oh and the crazy thing is that recently I thought that if I avoided Mexico, I’d avoid the cloud. One morning on my morning walk to the gym, in a haze of sleep, I was startlingly awoken to the smell of someone’s cloud. A neighbor came out of his building a few minutes before I got in front of his building and his cloud was coming downstream into my nostrils. I didn’t need coffee that morning to open my eyes and I mean that in more ways than one. It was also the moment when I realized why so many tourists often wear masks when they travel. It’s not because they are worried about catching SARS or the Swine flu. They definitely are trying to get away from the cloud.