Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

“Claudia, at your service. Maybe the old man has told you about me,
no? I’ve heard a lot about you. I can tell he likes you. So, what does he say
about me?”
While she drew a breath, I mulled over her indelicate question. My
response was snagged somewhere between unrestrained frankness and
polished tact.
“He says he really likes you but wishes you would stay with him and
not leave him each morning to go home.”
“But I have to. I have a house, five sons, a cornfield, and animals to care
for. I’ll stay with him when I’m ready, but he has to help me. This takes
money, and only with money will the dog dance. Con dinero baile el
perro.”
We heard stirring in the bedroom, and she hoisted herself up and peered
behind the curtain to his bed.
“So, you’re back!” I heard him say, with a detectable chilliness.
“I can stay a week this time, my king. My corn is all harvested, and my
sons are storing it away. The youngest will make meals for the others, and
they’ll manage fine without me,” she said matter-of-factly.
Panti pushed the curtain aside, still pulling on his cotton shirt and
scratching his bites and stings from the bush.
“This is my student, Rosita,” he said, motioning toward me. “She’ll be
here too for a few days helping me collect medicine. You can get to know
each other.” She turned toward me, and her smile reminded me of a
Cheshire cat’s.
She stashed her bags in his small room, then sauntered over to the
kitchen hut, where I heard her stoking up the fire. Panti and I soon returned
to the hut to resume our chopping chores.
Having another woman there—and one who knew him so intimately—
gave the hut a cozy feel. While she stuffed papers in the fire and fanned the
nibbling flames, she gabbed effortlessly to a sour-looking Panti. We heard
about her corn, her unemployed sons, and a horse that had foaled in her
yard. But within the half hour, Panti began warming up to her, failing
miserably at his efforts to remain aloof. She seemed the sort of person who
was oblivious to such subtle rebukes anyway.
He began weaving tales that were a keen match for her ambitious
ramblings. I watched their faces light up from chuckling and simple, wideeyed
wonder at any morsel of news about livestock, crops, weather, history,