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nothing about them. Please, I want to learn. I too am a healer, and I need<br />
your help.”<br />
He waved his arm and, <strong>with</strong>out a trace of lingering doubt, surrendered<br />
to me. “Then, it is agreed. I will teach you.” He reminded me, however, that<br />
<strong>with</strong>out a sastun, he could only teach me so much. To be able to<br />
communicate <strong>with</strong> the <strong>Maya</strong> Spirits who lived beyond the veil, I would<br />
need a sastun.<br />
Without a ceremonial handshake or toast to our good fortune—mine for<br />
uncovering an authentic teacher and his for securing a serious apprentice—<br />
we simply grabbed our tools and continued harvesting. The day was heating<br />
up and we still had to collect “Xiv” on the way home, he said.<br />
Reveling in the glory of the permission of a student to ask questions, I<br />
boldly inquired: “What is Xiv?”<br />
“Xiv is the <strong>Maya</strong>n word for medicinal leaf. There won’t be time to go<br />
into the mountains today, but we will be able to fill our sacks <strong>with</strong> leaves<br />
along the way home. You’ll see. Little by little, step by step, day by day.”<br />
Poco a poco, paso a paso, día por día.<br />
As I returned to my side of the cornfield, I thought about our pact. I still<br />
felt overwhelmed by the promises I had made, but I knew there was no<br />
turning back. <strong>My</strong> heart had made a dear and spiritually rich commitment<br />
that the rest of me and mine would, I hoped, one day embrace.
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