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CHAPTER TWELVE<br />
Copal Tree Pom Protium copal<br />
The tree and its resin are sacred to the <strong>Maya</strong>, who burn the aromatic resin as incense during<br />
ceremonies of purification, thanksgiving, and supplication to the Gods. The burning of Copal incense<br />
is a specific treatment for spiritual diseases such as envy, fright, the evil eye, grief, and sadness. It is<br />
believed to ward off evil spirits and black magic. The powdered bark is applied to wounds and<br />
infected sores. The boiled bark relieves stomach cramps and destroys intestinal parasites. The resin<br />
forms the basis of a varnish used on many fine woods.<br />
Shortly after the Primicia, a refugee from El Salvador named Orlando<br />
showed up at our gate asking for work. We had a herculean task before us<br />
of felling several dead sixty-foot trees, sawing up the branches, and burning<br />
them so the snakes wouldn’t take up residence in the underbrush. We knew<br />
we couldn’t do it alone, so after counting our scarce cash, we agreed to hire<br />
him for the next three days.<br />
By the end of the second day, we had felled dozens of trees and were<br />
preparing to burn the piles of branches. I hated clearing the forest, thinking<br />
it sad to see such noble trees lying on the ground, having surrendered their<br />
lives to our needs. That day our farm looked like a graveyard to me, <strong>with</strong><br />
our machetes dripping <strong>with</strong> the trees’ life-giving sap.<br />
We knew it was imperative to set the brush on fire at the appropriate<br />
time of day, due to the wind’s ability to carry away the flames, especially<br />
during the dry season. One had to have the experience and knowledge of<br />
the bush to do it right, and after talking <strong>with</strong> Orlando, he assured us <strong>with</strong><br />
supreme confidence that he did. He puffed up his chest and said, “Si, señor,<br />
yo sé bién.” Yes, sir, I know well.<br />
At eight the next morning he ceremoniously set fire to a dozen piles of<br />
brush and tree trunks only ten yards from our two huts. Within minutes<br />
Greg and I knew he and we had made a serious mistake. The early morning<br />
wind began swirling around the farm carrying menacing tongues of flame.<br />
We quickly were engulfed as ten-foot-high flames whipped around in every<br />
direction.