A curandero (Spanish: [kuɾanˈdeɾo], healer. Is a traditional native healer/shaman found in Latin America, the United States and Southern Europe. The curandero's life is dedicated to the administration of remedies for mental, emotional, physical and spiritual illnesses.
As kid I was a really spirited quirky personality. Curious. An explorer. With an imagination larger than life.
Almost burnt the house down by trying to rejig my easy bake oven.
I broke the fridge door as I tried to redo a scene from batman (the tv series... I played cat woman). I played with barbies. In a very scandalous ways (like that one time barbie got pregnant but it wasn't Ken's... it was Jose's from the corner bodega... he was so hot).
My mom was convinced I was possessed by Satan.
On to Washington Heights we went to the curanderos.
The first question he asked was if I was a good boy.
I didn’t respond. Too freaked out to lie.
He ask that I pick an egg from a nearby basket and said…
If only the yolk comes out that means you're possessed by evil spirits. If it's white then you're an angel.
I got the yolk.
He placed a hand on my head. Chanted. Then told my mom I was cured.
Sold us a few herbs for tea. Dried twigs for burning to remove evil spirits. Powder to be placed in water by the door. No one should touch or drink the water as they would die immediately. A dried chicken to place under my bed to keep the evil spirits from repossessing me.
He turned looked me in my face and said if I missed behaved again I would die on the spot.
I was about 8 years old.
Back at the house I sat on my bed questioning… could I really die? and if so.. what does death feel like?
did what any normal kid would do...I went to my little sister, offered her $5 if she touched the water bowl. We walked by the door looking at the bowl filled with cliquid.
It looked harmless.
I slightly kicked it with my feet… a few drops fell onto the floor.
Nothing happened.
She looked at me with one eye raised… and just hovered her hand over it.
So I pushed it in.
She shrieked… and runs to my mom.
Mom grabs the belt. Before she strikes I mentioned that she's been played.
Neither of us died. Isn't that great?!
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