Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

acks and the emerging midday heat. The inviting coolness of morning had
given way to a mean, blistering sun.
He showed me more grayish, woody lianas, giving each a name, calling
it male or female, and providing few explanations about its uses.
As we lumbered past the watermelon patch I was sure we were done
collecting. To my astonishment, he handed me another empty sack.
“We must collect Xiv for today. We’ll find the rest of the nine plants
along the trail back to the village, where patients are no doubt already lined
up.”
Collect seven more plants? Luckily he didn’t notice the stunned look
gracing my wet, flushed face, as he continued grabbing and cutting as his
load tugged against his wrinkled forehead.
“This is Cruxi, Cross Vine,” he said, holding up another snippet of
green. “You see how this leaf makes a cross over the branch of the vine?
Watch for that. When a leaf crosses a branch it is a sign that the plant is
blessed with medicinal powers.”
I leaned in to get a closer look, but with one bulging sack tied to my
back, another tucked under my left arm, a pick dangling off my right
shoulder, and a circle of Chicoloro wrapped around my neck, it took all my
energy just to see clearly. Yet he was quite serious about collecting more
leaves, and I was in awe at the amount of hard labor he was capable of. I
began to fully comprehend what I was in for as the zampope’s apprentice.
How I wished for a pen and paper, a tape recorder, a camera, another
brain. The extent of his knowledge about the forest plants was staggering. I
began to feel overwhelmed at the imposing task before me.
As I continued trailing behind him and collecting Xiv, I also prayed and
tried to count how many leaves we had collected. Four more to go before
we reached home. I was drenched in sweat, with sharp roots digging into
my back, and I was also thoroughly confused, unable to remember even one
of the plants he had showed me. Don Elijio, on the other hand, was full of
pep, as if he’d just had a nap.
“Over there, Rosita, behind that tree and up that hillside. Do you see the
large leaf? Go cut nine for today.”
Obediently, I put down my sacks, removing them one at a time along
with the liana around my neck, while wondering how a man who saw
people’s faces as hazy masks could spot a particular plant clear across the
road and up a hill. I pulled out my machete and headed for the steep hill