Don'T Summon Them

On one occasion, a lady came to see her who said that she was the victim of evil; she had an unbearable headache and from her nose she was bleeding profusely. She had gone to see many doctors, but no one had been able to cure her. My grandmother did what always did, but this time she didn’t kill any animal. She told the woman that it had been successful and advised her to take a mixture for fourteen days and until finally she defecated a viper. She had to kill it instantly because if not, she was not going to be cured of the evil. The woman left confused, not believing anything, but she did what my grandmother told her anyway.

A few days passed and the lady excreted a viper, but the horror she felt was so great, that she just pulled the chain, and the reptile went down the toilet. The evil fell on my grandmother; she no longer ate, was sick, and could do almost nothing. I spoke to her, tried to help her, but she didn’t respond, until she finally told me what to do. I had to go and find a ‘male’ root and a ‘female’ root. I brought them together very carefully, crushed and ground them and added more things to the mixture. As best I could, I fed it to her. A full week went by and she recovered little by little. On the last day she went to the bathroom and finished with that animal. She returned to reality.

She explained to me that there are very powerful people who have allies, who know how to perform evil with purple corn and other objects, who know how to find power, who become animals, who are able to control their dreams as if they were awake, who are warriors.

She taught me all the mysteries, the good and the bad. When I learnt them and everything she told me made sense, she confessed something that she had never told anyone, she could become an animal, a turkey. I believed her because I had seen her do surprising things and because she had made me realise that ‘reality’ as a common person sees it, is only a part of what is possible; it is only an interpretation, but it is not the only one that exists.

There were times when we were both alone in the room where people were cured and for no reason at all things fell over or there were noises, giggles and footsteps. The things that had their place appeared somewhere else, as if someone was bent on making my grandmother angry. One day she got tired of this situation when everything that was on a shelf fell off even though there was no one there, or at least I didn’t see anyone there.

My grandmother was not surprised. She said to me, calmly, “Those scumbags are back again.” “Who?” I asked. She said, “Those who like to play.” From a box she pulled out some powders, chillies, and other things. She lit the fire inside the room and threw the items onto the flames. She left some glass jars and bottles on the floor as traps, told me to go out and shut all the doors, and with the smoke, we were going to catch them. While we waited, we went to the hill to cut plants and to plant the roots that we had previously removed, because she said that we had to return to the earth what it gives us.

Almost five hours later we opened up the room. My grandmother quickly grabbed the bottles, closed them very well, and showing them to me, said, “Here are the scoundrels.” Of course, I didn’t see anything. For me, the bottles were empty. She threw them in a bag, and we walked again up towards the hill. After a long walk, she pulled them out and put them on the ground. She looked at them and said, “I will set you free, I forgive you, but if I see you again, I will kill you, so be gone with you.” She opened the bottles and something or someone was supposed to come out, but I didn’t see anything. Then, we returned. On the way home there were some lights swinging in the treetops. From her skirt pocket she pulled out some powders, threw a little over me and some more over her, then she said to me, “We must make ourselves invisible; I don’t want these animals to see me.” I didn’t really understand what she meant. It was so dark that I guess even without the powders we were already invisible.

My grandmother knows many things. She is a knowledgeable person, but she is already very old. She has defeated all the natural enemies, but her last enemy is winning the battle. I am only an apprentice, and she has taught me a lot, but she says I have taught her more. I don’t know what I can teach her, if I can’t even master it myself, but I would like to know more about myself. I don’t know how, and I don't even know what I am like, nor can I hear my voice. The odd thing is that my grandmother is the only person in the world who can see me.

San Marcos, Hidalgo

26 December 2008

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