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Sastun: My Apprenticeship with a Maya Healer

by Rosita Arvigo

by Rosita Arvigo

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CHAPTER ELEVEN<br />

Tzibche<br />

Crotolaria cajanifolia<br />

Somewhat of a rare herb, Tzibche is used in the treatment of many spiritual diseases and as a<br />

protective brushing before the sacred <strong>Maya</strong> Primicias. It may also be collected as one of the Nine<br />

Xiv formula for herbal bathing.<br />

Good Friday broke <strong>with</strong> seasonal dreary rain and fog, which had been<br />

soaking our farm most of that Holy Week. Although the farm was now<br />

blanketed <strong>with</strong> young blades of grass, there were still many patches of slick<br />

mud. We had been living in knee-high rain boots for days and bathing in<br />

rainwater under the outdoor shower. We’d also kept the wood-burning stove<br />

lit all day to keep ourselves warm and to dry the laundry hanging<br />

everywhere in our kitchen.<br />

We had homemade muffins, mangoes, and Lemon Grass tea for<br />

breakfast that morning around a table Greg had fashioned from secondhand<br />

mahogany boards. But this was no customary, workaday Friday: This was<br />

the day my family and I were to meet the <strong>Maya</strong> Spirits.<br />

We began scurrying around in preparation not only for the Primicia but<br />

for our special guests: Panti and Claudia. James left to canoe across the<br />

river and walk the mile to the road to guide our guests to the farm.<br />

Soon I heard James yelling from the riverbank, “Mo-o-o-om. We’re<br />

crossing over.” Within minutes we saw Panti slowly and deliberately climb<br />

the hillside steps, which Greg had just finished building a few weeks<br />

before.<br />

Behind Panti was a red-faced, puffing Claudia, bearing his sack of dirty<br />

laundry on her head. James held up the rear, oar in hand <strong>with</strong> a smile as<br />

wide as the Macal River on his handsome face.<br />

We exchanged warm greetings, and Panti marveled at my large kitchen,<br />

<strong>with</strong> its thatch roof soaring twenty feet above our wood stove. He was used<br />

to small rooms <strong>with</strong> few windows and imposing darkness.<br />

I led them to the guest room—a rough and rustic, unpainted frame<br />

house <strong>with</strong> a thatch roof, but they let out squeals of approval as if it were a

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