Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

“Yes, yes, that is true,” he nodded. “Bring them when you like,” he said
and went back to his gloom and chopping.
After lunch, the afternoon transport came in, Angel at the wheel, with
Isabel and four of the younger children all squeezed into the front cab.
I was thankful when I saw a familiar face appear at the door. It was
Doña Rosa, laden with her bags of wares.
Doña Rosa had been one of Don Elijio’s first patients when he was just
starting out, back in the days when Chinda was still alive. She was a
gregarious woman, short of stature, square framed, and full of laughter and
stories much like Don Elijio. She was a trader, as Don Elijio had once been,
and they had developed a deep friendship over the years. Whenever Doña
Rosa, who lived in Benque—a town near the Guatemalan border—came to
town to San Antonio to sell dresses, pots, pans, towels, and cosmetics, she
stayed with her old friend, Don Elijio.
The two of them were wonderful company for each other. Doña Rosa
was four decades younger than Don Elijio, but she was part of the old world
too. They loved to tell each other stories of the old days, and I had come to
love her as much as he did. She doted on him. She cooked his favorite
dishes on the open hearth and brought him vitamins, eye drops, and dried
herbs from Melchor, the border town on the Guatemalan side.
Doña Rosa lived in Benque with her husband Poncho and two teenaged
daughters. When on rare occasion Don Elijio left San Antonio, he could be
found at Rosa and Poncho’s home in Benque, where word would spread of
his presence and patients would line up outside the door holding sick babies
and propping up infirm grandparents to receive his prayers and herbs.
Recently, Rosa had begun to learn about the plants and prayers so that
she could do a little bit of healing in Benque. She learned fast, but she
didn’t like to deal with evil spirits, nor would she, take on chronic or
severely ill patients. She wanted to become a granny healer and refer all
serious cases to Don Elijio.
Don Elijio’s face lit up the moment he saw Doña Rosa at the door. He
immediately went into the routine he always said when both Rosa and I
were in San Antonio at the same time.
“Ahh, I have a rose garden today,” he said.
We joked about him being a thorn between two roses, and he
shamelessly responded, “Get closer, both of you, and see if you can make
me bleed. I have lots of blood.”