The Healing

 The Chocó believe that everyone's life is controlled by a spirit, and that one’s spirit is an animal. When a person is young the spirit lives on your back, and as the person gets older and wiser it moves up the back and ends up living on the top of your head when you are very old. The elderly were the most respected members of the Chocó family.
The Chocó had a Curandero (medicine man) in most of the villages. They believe that the Curandero has supernatural powers from birth, which gives him the ability to communicate with the spirits to determine the causes of a person’s illness. He would make medicine sticks (ethnographic art) that he would then use in the healing process. These were made from a very special hard dark wood, and many of these sticks looked like black ebony, all shiny and iridescent. The only thing that can create that effect on the wood is repeated exposure to the natural oils of the human hand. The medicine sticks had been used and handled so much by the Curandero that they eventually achieved that sheen. The Chocó also made wood carvings that they sold to the tourists, but they weren't the same as the authentic medicine sticks. Genuine medicine sticks had acquired that rich and earthy patina created by countless years, and in some cases generations, of use by the Curanderos.
I stated earlier that there was racial tension between the Mestizos and the Chocó. An example of this was that the Mestizos referred to the Curanderos as “Brujos” (witches). These people tended to be afraid of that which they did not understand.
The supernatural was always a natural part of the lives of the Choco. The Curanderos used their powers for the good of the community in healing the sick. It would never occur to a Curandero to use their skills to do damage to another person. This form of sorcery is practiced in South America and the Caribbean. People of these other cultures will hire a sorcerer to cast a spell doing harm to someone who was an enemy or a person who had wronged you. The sorcery of these cultures was completely foreign to the communal thought process of the Choco.
One day an Indian arrived at the house telling me that the Cacique needed to see me right away. It was late in the day, but I dutifully loaded up the dugout and took off for Union Chocó.
I arrived at nightfall and was met on the bank by the Cacique. While we walked up the hill together, and then across the village, he explained to me that one of the boys in the village had been bitten by a poisonous snake.
I was a little surprised because normally these kinds of things were kept very private and outsiders were never allowed to observe. I knew that I was viewed by the Chocó as an expert on snakes and snake bites, mainly because of my initial involvement in the animal business and the fact that I wasn't afraid of snakes, but what I observed on this day was way outside any of my areas of expertise.
I was led to a hut at the back end of the village. There was a group of five or six women with several children standing near the base of the ladder beside the hut. I smiled at them as I approached the hut, and they nodded in return, but no one said anything.
The Cacique motioned to me to go up the ladder. I scaled the log up into the house but the Cacique did not follow me up the ladder. I quietly stepped up into the hut and seated myself on the floor right by the top of the ladder to be able to observe from a quiet distance. I don’t think that anyone noticed me enter, and if they did they did not show it.
I was immediately struck by the sweet smell of a smoky aura that had settled under the thatched roof. I recognized the boy who was lying on a matt in the center of the floor of the Curandero's hut. I remember him from many of my previous trips to Union Chocó. He was conscious throughout the entire time I was there. He was constantly in a hot sweat all over his body as he stared blankly up at the roof. The Curandero sat beside the side of the mat and was also in a hot sweat. He seemed completely absorbed, as if he was in a trance.
There were two men sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the mat from where the Curandero was seated. One was probably the boy's father, someone who I had never met. The other I immediately recognized as the Cacique’s brother. I surmised that the boy on the mat was probably his grandson.
There was a ceremonial rhythm to what I was observing. Both the Curandero and the father were chanting. The smoke (and the smell) came from a small smoldering fire of what looked like dried grass in a gourd to the left of the Curandero. There were three small gourds to the right of the Curandero. One had a black pitch in it, one had a mashed red berry in it, and the third had a mixture of wet grasses.
The Curandero devoured an entire bottle of Seco during the time I was sitting with them. The Curandero was using two medicine sticks, first one, then the other, and then both. One stick was in the shape of two snakes twisted together and was a shiny dark black color. Perched on the end of the second stick was a carving of a small boy. There was a carved snake that curled up the handle of this stick and the head of the snake rested on the leg of the boy. I couldn't understand what that they were chanting, but I would guess that they were probably praying.
The boy had been bitten just above the ankle. The Curandero would chew up the mixture of the grasses and herbs which he kept applying to the spot on the leg where the boy had been bitten, and then he would massage the mixture into the bite using the black tar. Over the centuries the Curanderos had learned about those particular roots and herbs having medicinal qualities. This was passed down from father to son, as Curanderos tended to be a family business because they believed that the spirits that helped you to cure others were given to you at birth. The best and most powerful medicine sticks, with the most powerful spirits, were also passed along from one generation to the next. The combination of the roots and herbs, the saliva of the Curandero, and the Seco apparently has healing properties, given each different medical situation. However, it does seem like faith also plays a large part in the healing process as well. I would think that a study of these miracle cures coming straight from nature would be appropriate for some scientist to do someday, if it hasn't already been done.
I observed the ritual for about 15 or 20 minutes; chanting, more of the medicinal mixture, more of the Seco, and constant work with the medicine sticks, with the sweet smelling smoke filling the air of the small hut throughout. Finally, I quietly slipped out of the hut and back down the ladder. I explained to the Cacique that there was nothing I could do to be able to help. Even if I had anti-venom with me, it would have been dangerous to administer it without knowing the exact kind of snake that bit the boy. I reassured him that what they were doing was probably the right thing and gave the boy his best chance for survival.
He told me that the Curandero, and the boy's father, would be working with him until morning.
The boy survived and I brought him a pair of sandals from Panama City the next time I saw him some weeks later.