Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

He was both excited and bewildered, but in his heart he knew he was
worthy of the gift. He had not prayed for a sastun to bring him fame or great
riches or to harm someone through its power to enchant. He had desired a
sastun to be able to cure more of his patients’ ills.
This was not the first time that I’d heard Panti speak of his dream
visions. Through dreams, the Spirits delivered valuable information to him.
Whenever he was confused about a patient’s illness and didn’t know how to
treat it, he consulted his sastun, asking the Spirits for their help. They often
answered him through dreams, he said, showing him which plant to use,
where to find it, how to use it, and what prayers to say in accompaniment.
“The next day I would grab my bag and my machete and go off to the
mountains to hunt for that specific plant. And I always found it right where
they said to look for it.”
This talk of gremlins, dreams, and ancient Mayas was making me more
anxious about what lay ahead for me. I didn’t really know what to make of
Don Elijio’s certainty that I would have a dream vision that night. By now I
had tremendous faith in him and was sure that he had never lied to me. He
seemed calm, so certain that the Spirits would visit and that I wouldn’t die
of fright. I was not so sure, but I decided to accept what he said and have
faith in his wisdom.
By now it was night. We ate a light meal of beans and tortillas. San
Antonio reverberated with sounds of the night. Couples carrying boom
boxes walked by on the road. Children cried and dogs barked. I could hear
the verses of hallelujah echoing from the evangelical church nearby.
Panti was too excited to sleep. And I was too nervous. He lay in his
hammock and I in mine, separated by the curtain. We talked through the
doorway for hours before Don Elijio said it was time to sleep.
“You have to sleep if you want to have a dream,” he told me.
“Remember to pray. Have faith, and the Spirits will speak to you tonight.”
His words echoed in my mind, as I curled up around my crystal in my
hammock and prayed, whispering my new ensalmo over and over and
making the sign of the cross over the stone as I had often seen him do.
I wasn’t afraid anymore, but I still had a hard time believing that Maya
spirits would communicate with me through a tiny oracle that resembled an
ordinary marble or a common piece of quartz, pretty as it was. Would the
Maya Spirits have anything to say to me?