Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

He also believed in the Nine Malevolent Spirits who reside in the nine
levels of the underworld.
“They are the ones who answer the calls of the black magicians,” he
warned. “They also come on the Winds, but they do evil. They like to come
in the night.”
At one time the Nine Benevolent Spirits had lived in Tikal, he said. But
once the archaeologists had come, they had fled seeking refuge in more
remote ancient temples as yet inviolate. At first they went to live at
Uaxactun. “When archaeologists came to Uaxactun, the Spirits fled to a
place called Caxcun on the border of Belize and Guatemala where three
hills come together to form one peak.
“Caxcun is enchanted and is now the home of the Maya Spirits, and no
one can or should go there,” he told me. “Many have tried. All have failed.
Some gringos tried to climb to the top of the peak and were pushed back
repeatedly by the Winds, and the dirt under their hands turned to sand and
they could not get a grip. Later, the same gringos tried to come back with an
airplane to fly over the area, and even the airplane was prevented from
going there by a strong Wind that continually blew it back from the area
and prevented it from flying directly over Caxcun.”
When the good Spirits had left Tikal, he said, the evil ones had taken
over Tikal as a favorite earthly haunt.
“That is why I would never go to Tikal again,” Don Elijio said. “I am
afraid.”
Spirits also lived in lesser ruins like Xunantunich, a small ancient city
just across the river from Succotz Village where he had grown up.
“When they first opened the tomb at Xunantunich, the workers fell to
the ground in a stupor. Just before passing out they heard
hmmmmmmmmmm,” said Don Elijio, making a loud and eerie humming
sound. “Some of the workers died.”
By now we were standing in front of a Guaco Vine, which I found hard
to discern from Chicoloro until Don Elijio sliced through it and showed me
a characteristic starburst pattern at the core of the vine. He held the severed
vine under my nose and told me that this was the female of Contribo and
used for ciro. The odor of Guaco was faint in contrast to Contribo’s
overwhelming pungency.
As we chopped Guaco, Don Elijio explained that he wanted to hold a
Primicia for me now because Good Friday of Holy Week was coming and