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"Yes, yes, I completely understand!" Marina knew in an instant that she was the only person she could rely on. [Read the full text] "Now, do as I say," Mendoza comforted her, "Don't be afraid, they are here to help you take a bath. These are the rules here."
Marina suppressed her fear and reluctantly nodded in obedience.
"I will wait for you outside the door." Mendoza then said something that frightened her. "Please take off your clothes yourself. Believe me, your refusal will not be of any use. Try to comply with what they do. .This will make you feel better.”
Marina regarded this as advice from someone who had experienced it, but the meaning contained in it made her aware of the humiliation she would suffer next. With tears in her eyes, she nodded silently.
Mendoza disappeared behind the door, and four maids surrounded her. One of them threw a rattan basket at her feet, pointed at the basket and said something. She guessed that she wanted her to take off her clothes and put them in the basket. , obviously, if she didn't want to take off her clothes, they would strip her naked immediately without any care.
Even with the same surname, Marina has never had the experience of taking off her clothes in front of women - when bathing in the monastery, they "female students" would put on a large cotton burqa, take off their clothes under the burqa, and then Wearing a burqa into the bathtub, everyone washes themselves under the burqa. Except for the face and neck, absolutely no one can see any nakedness about themselves or others.
It was obvious that the pirates did not intend to provide a burqa, and although she had made up her mind to follow Miss Mendoza's advice, she could not take off her clothes on her own: the luxurious clothes could only be put on by the help of the maid, and she was alone. It can't be taken off no matter what.
The four maids obviously couldn't hold it any longer, and they immediately began to take off her clothes: their movements were rough and forceful. Marina struggled slightly and then stopped moving. She let them control her and silently prayed to the martyred saints she had read about that she could endure all the suffering.
After all the clothes were taken off, Marina felt a look of surprise and disdain on the maid's face. Then she was taken to the bathroom and sat down on a wooden stool. A maid began to untie her hair. ——Obviously, like taking off her clothes, the pirate maids were not familiar with the European style, so they had to rely on brute force to pull and pull, which made Marina almost cry in pain. It took a lot of effort to completely untie her thick hair.
For a moment, the maids had a look of disgust on their faces. One of the maids got a bucket of hot water and poured it on her pocket, followed by a large piece of soap, and then they brushed her hair with something sharp and hard. --Apparently, this gets rid of head fleas.
Hot water, soap, and a comb that stung her scalp repeatedly tossed her head, and Marina endured it with a martyr's determination.
Then they began to torture her body with hot water soap and a rough and elastic object. She was roughly pushed down on the stool and even tossed over and over again, rinsed, washed and brushed.
The soapy water saturated with dirt flows on the white floor tiles like gray streams.
Finally, when she was almost passed out from the heat and rough bathing, the weird bathing finally ended. The maids wiped her body with an incredibly soft fabric - instantly absorbing the moisture from her skin.
The maids looked at her body carefully, as if appraising their work performance. Finally they were satisfied. She was covered with a piece of white soft fabric.
Then the door opened and Miss Mendoza walked in.
Her expression seemed very apologetic, and she walked to and stopped in front of her. He looked at her carefully.
"Please take off the towel," she said.
She ducked back for a moment. Hesitantly, he put down the towel wrapped around him. Her body was on full display. Completely naked, all the parts of her body that had been tightly wrapped and guarded for more than ten years, even she herself had never had a good look at, were now truly revealed.
Now all the grime has been washed away and the layers of clothing are gone. The figure of this Spanish lady does not look bad. She is not tall and her figure is not toned - she is obviously not a girl who exercises regularly. Obviously, it is impossible for girls in this time and space to realize the importance of body shape.
Miss Mendoza went to a wooden cupboard along another wall and opened one. A row of coats hung tightly inside. It looks very soft and luxurious. She pulled these out. It's a robe.
She took one out and held it out. Marina took it hesitantly - the material was soft and fine, and seemed to be made of the best cotton.
"You put this on."
Mendoza spent a few minutes teaching her to wear a bra and underwear, then dressed her in a short-sleeved blue dress. This is a garment often worn by senior naturalized female workers in the summer, with the skirt reaching a little below the knees. It is made of Matsue cotton, and the style is extremely simple. In addition to the buttons on the back, the accessories are an adjustable waist and bust belt. She tied up Marina's bushy length with a band.
"Your head is so beautiful," complimented Miss Mendoza.
Marina felt like she was dressed like a slave - maybe she was one now. Short-sleeves are okay, but clothing that exposes calves unscrupulously is something that even a female would not wear like this.
Her calves and feet were bare, and her arms were exposed. She felt a shudder, as if she were naked. She was enveloped in a huge depression and silently put on the espadrilles prepared for her.
"Come on, come here." Mendoza said gently, taking her out of "Alibaba's bathroom".
Marina, whose will was on the verge of collapse, was taken to the "special room" of the quarantine camp, which was on the second floor of the small building where she had just taken a bath. This courtyard is prepared for prisoners and "guests" with special status. Here you can enjoy the privilege of individual "purification".
"This is your room," Mendoza said. "You will stay here until the latest order."
The room is not big, the walls are painted white, and the floor is made of wooden boards. The furniture is very simple: a small bed, a cabinet, a round table and four chairs. The room was spotless, without any clutter. Marina felt that this house was a bit like a Spanish inn, only much brighter and cleaner.
The window was open, but outside was a cage covered with iron gauze, which seemed to remind her that this was not an inn, but a place where she was imprisoned and waiting to be dropped.
"Can you return my luggage and clothes to me?" She tried to make a request, testing Mendoza's bottom line - she was very sympathetic to her, she was not an indifferent person who rejected people thousands of miles away, here , she was probably the only kind person she could deal with. She said, "Look, there's nothing here but sheets and stalls."
"Your luggage is the trophy of the Senate, but I think it is okay to return some of the clothes." Mendoza said politely, "I will definitely find a way." She touched her shoulder to reassure her.
Everything now makes her difficult. Her mind was like a mess. Miss Mendoza calmed down in her chair. "Let me make you a cup of tea," she said.
"What is tea?"
"A Chinese drink, similar to, um... similar to yerba mate."
She knew about yerba mate, but few people drank it in Mexico City. It came from the remote La Plata district and was drunk only by the Jesuit priests.
Marina's eyes scanned the entire house, and the appearance of each object made her feel confused - she knew what it was, but they were different from anything of the same kind she had ever seen.
From a certain point of view, these furniture items are all shockingly simple, with almost no decoration, no painting or carving, and they seem to be the products of the poorest carpenters simply pieced together from wood. But when they are placed there, they are so coordinated and beautiful. Every edge of the furniture is neat and every angle is exactly the same. The surface of the wood is smooth and delicate, revealing beautiful wood grain. Simplicity not only does not detract from their texture, but adds a special sense of beauty.
Mendoza brought her tea—in Chinese porcelain! Beautiful blue flowers and plants are painted on the delicate porcelain, which is crystal white like snow. The slight yellow color of Chinese tea reflects a soft light through the thin porcelain wall.
A piece of snow-white square candy is placed on the plate, so delicate that it is difficult to take it away.
The tea is black tea made from highly fermented Fujian tea and served with sugar cubes. This tea drinking method is a consumption method that the trade department has recently tried hard to promote to Europeans in order to export two bulk commodities at the same time.
She carefully picked up the plate, put in a small piece of sugar according to Mendoza's instructions, and stirred it gently with a teaspoon. The sweet tea calmed her mind, and she noticed the cross pendant around Mendoza's neck - this was another item from the old time and space besides the bikini she was wearing...
"You are a believer in the Lord." She said happily.
"Yes." Mendoza nodded.
"This is great!" Marina's mood suddenly improved a lot. If she were a converted pagan, it would be terrible. These people are more feared and hated than real pagans.
"Are you Spanish?"
"No, I'm Venezuelan," Mendoza said, using his last name.
"Oh, you're not a 'Peninsula'."
Mendoza took a moment to react to this word. By the way, there is no country Venezuela in this time and space, only the province of Venezuela in New Spain.
"Yes, I am not a 'Peninsular'. I was born in Venezuela." She hesitated and wondered whether she should be called a "Mesotis" or a "Crivao"?
"Why are you here? What is this place?" Marina asked eagerly.
(To be continued q
