Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

and met Saint Peter. He looked at me and said, ‘Where have you been, old
man, get in here. Someone must have forgotten you.’
“‘Now just a minute,’ I told him, ‘let me ask you something before I go
in. Is there beer? Are there women? Is there dancing?’ Saint Peter said,
‘Beer, women, and dancing? Are you crazy? There’s none of that up here.’ I
answered, ‘Forget it, I’m not going in.’”
Panti threw up his arms and chanted, “I’m back!”
“You better go back to bed,” I told him.
“No, no, let’s work. What does this lady want? Wait till I put my pants
on.”
He scampered back into the bedroom and reappeared moments later.
It was clear he knew exactly why he was put here on Earth.
The woman gave me a dirty look.
I got up. Panti sat down in his chair and launched into a new routine.
“What is your problem, mamasita? I’m 101 years old, and whatever ails
you I can cure with my prayers and my herbs and God at my side.”
I shot him a look of surprise, wondering how he had managed to age
eight years in a matter of minutes. He ignored me.
“I cure diabetes, high blood pressure, arthritis, broken hearts,” he
continued. “I’ve been doing this work for forty years and I know a few
things.”
I smiled, remembering that I had once asked him why he always used
that number, since by my calculations he’d been practicing bush medicine
for far more than sixty years. He’d just shrugged and said, “Because, child,
that’s as high as I can count.”
After that day Don Elijio continued to practice for many more years,
and he is still there today. On days when he feels good, he sees the patients
who always seem to find their way to his door. Other days, when his body
aches too much, he puts up a cardboard sign that Angel made for him.
“Cerrado,” it says. Closed.
Don Elijio is now 97, still looking for a wife and telling his patients that
he is 101. God willing, he will live far beyond that.