Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

help us heal. A prayer seemed like a small price to pay for such a gift, I
mused.
He repeated the ensalmo for me ever so slowly: “I am the one who
walks in the mountains seeking the medicine to heal the people. I give
thanks to the Spirit of this plant, and I have faith with all my heart that this
plant will heal the sicknesses of the people. God the Father, God the Son,
and God the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
“This one with the white string flower is Cordoncillo,” he said. “There
are many kinds.” He crushed a leaf and held it to my nose. Then he had me
taste the flower, and I was reminded of licorice. “Cordoncillo should always
be added to the Xiv mixture and is strong medicine on its own.” Later I
learned the plant was known in English as Spanish Elder.
“And, Rosita, when you’re gathering medicine, never say to yourself, ‘I
hope this works,’ or ‘Maybe this will work.’ No, no, you must say with
complete confidence in the plants and faith in God that these plants will
heal. And they will, I promise you.”
I told him not to worry, I was a person blessed with a great deal of faith.
“It is good to have faith. That is the most important lesson you will
learn from me,” he continued. “With faith, everything is possible. Believe
this, for it is true.”
As we traveled deeper and higher into the forest, the soil changed from
thin and rocky to soft and rich. It was damp and dark and the aroma of
decaying humus filled the air.
Panti’s long cutlass bounced against his leg as he walked. He took the
cutlass out of its leather case whenever he needed to cut away a vine or
branch impeding our progress.
“Humph. This vine thinks I don’t have a machete,” he said, ever so
gently slicing back only what was necessary to make our way through.
Every now and then on the trail, he touched the end of a toxic plant with
the tip of his machete as a warning. He told me about Wild Chaya, which
bears stinging white hairs that can easily penetrate through layers of
clothing. When it touches the skin it forms blisters that burn for days.
He showed me the delicate vine with lovely white flowers called
Lindahermosa (“pretty beautiful” in Spanish), which has thorns that cling
with barbs, tearing out pieces of flesh as you pass by. Then he warned about
the Cockspur or Zubin tree that signals its danger with its bark blanketed
with fat, razor-sharp thorns that harbor biting ants.