Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

Where were we now? How far was it yet to the village? Were we on the
sixth, the seventh, or the eighth leaf? Was this one Anal? Is this
Cordoncillo? I felt like dumping all the sacks on the ground and taking a
snooze under the nearest shade tree. I began snickering at how funny I must
look, loaded down like an overused coatrack in the middle of winter.
“We shouldn’t have done so much shopping this morning at the
marketplace, maestro!” I said capriciously, trying to get my perspective
back.
He laughed and shook his head, saying, “Yes, but we are not done. If we
don’t collect enough Xiv this morning, I will have to return after lunch, and
I’m too busy for that today.”
He kept showing me more leaves, more branches, and more vines until
my mind was crammed with a prickly wad of knowledge. When I tried to
recall even one of them, I drew a frustrating and embarrassing blank.
The end of the road veers uphill for the last mile to the village. At last,
he stopped and swung around to look at me. He eyed my sacks and the
sweat dripping off my chin and said with gentle crinkles forming around his
eyes, “You did well today, my daughter. Do not despair. Day by day, step by
step, little by little, I will teach, and you will learn.”