Thread: Cleansing body and soul

http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/l ... 32,00.html

Cleansing body and soul
Faith healing gaining among state's Hispanics

By Fernando Quintero, Rocky Mountain News
July 6, 2005

Efrain Flores, 71, stood motionless as Maria Contreras sprayed the front and back of his shirt with mist from cans labeled "San Cipriano" and "Santa Barbara."

Afterward, Contreras rubbed a raw brown egg over his torso, his limbs and the soles of his shoes. She then cracked it into a clear plastic glass.

Flores had come to Contreras because of a bad back. "Your condition is not good. The egg is runny. Look," she told Flores, holding up the glass to a bare bulb hanging in the basement of her Lakewood home. "The yolk is runny. That means there is something wrong with your health."

She prescribes three "cleansings" over a period of a month. He agrees and feels a sense of calm.

Meanwhile, people begin filling Contreras' living room, waiting for their turn.

The 46-year-old native of El Salvador is a curandera, a folk healer who uses limpias, or spiritual cleansings, to cure everything from ear infections to broken hearts.

At night, she cleans offices. By day, she cleanses bodies and souls, seeing between five and 10 people a week.

"If I worked as a curandera full time, I'd be working seven days a week, 24 hours a day," she said of the increased demand for her services.

Curanderismo, a centuries-old form of faith healing from Latin America, combines the power of prayer and home herbal remedies. It has risen in popularity along with the dramatic increase in Colorado's Hispanic immigrant population.

Dr. Ricardo Padilla, a physician at Denver's Westside Family Health Center, in 2001 led a study that showed more than 29 percent of patients surveyed had been to a curandero at least once. The study estimated there were between 150 and 200 curanderos in the Denver metro area alone.

Curanderismo is a growing, unregulated industry. While the power of the mind and spirit in promoting healing can't be denied, Padilla said, there also can be substantial health risks: Some herbal preparations may interfere with prescribed medications, or may be toxic themselves. And some people needing medical attention may delay or forgo treatment.

"Many Hispanic patients, especially those who use the public hospital system, use the services of curanderos," said Padilla. "This potentially has important implications for their health care."

Massage, prayer, herbs, rituals Curanderismo, derived from the word curar or heal, stems from the religious beliefs of Aztec, Mayan and Incan tribes that their many gods punished sins with illness. It was believed that some mortals, who were spiritually chosen, were given the power to heal the wounded spirit and cure illness or disease. These traditions were later combined with elements of Catholicism.

Curanderos generally use massage, prayer, herbs and rituals to treat patients. Health care experts say the practice has its pluses and pitfalls.

Padilla believes curanderismo is a form of "culturally sensitive health intervention." But he also worries about the potential severity of some of the problems being treated by curanderos.

"The fact that headache was the most common problem treated by curanderos in our study was worrisome," he said, noting a headache can be a sign of a serious neurological problem. The same applied to evaluations for stomach and back pain, kidney problems, and diabetes, which is more prevalent among Hispanics than among other Colorado groups.

"These problems should definitely be evaluated by a trained medical professional," he said.

Many patients believe their ailments are the product of witchcraft, called mal puesto.

"There are people who have had hexes put on them," said Contreras.

Some people, she says, come under demonic possession.

"They act crazy. They'll lunge at you and spit on you. They're the victims of black magic. Their bodies can't take the weight of evil forces. They need someone with a lot of force and will power to counteract those forces. I can take it. I'm not afraid. I put them to sleep, and they wake up fine."

Born with a special gift

Amos Martinez, a manager at the mental health licensing program for the state Department of Regulatory Agencies, said curanderos and other "naturopaths" are unregulated in most states, including Colorado.

"They have more of a religious orientation, which is why most states don't regulate them," he said. "For them, it's more a matter of a 'buyer beware.' "

Curanderos charge anywhere between $25 and $100 per consultation, but some charge much more. Fees are often in the form of donations. Most rely on word of mouth.

Born and raised in San Salvador, Contreras said she did not attend school, but she knew at an early age that she had a special gift. She ran away from home at age 9, she said, and ended up in Honduras, where she was taken in by a curandera who taught her about limpias and other rituals.

"The only thing I knew is that I had natural forces inside of me. I can't explain it. I can cure other people," she said. "I'm not Catholic. But I believe in God almighty. I also feel that the spirits surround me. I feel them."

Contreras sees customers from as far away as El Paso and Houston. Locally, they come from all over: Denver, Greeley, Fort Lupton and Brighton. Contreras charges $20 for limpias. She also sells candles, powders and other items for a slight markup.

Her consultations begin with a sort of diagnosis.

"I first assess what state they're in. I pass an egg over them and I feel in my hand what they feel. I will sometimes tell them that they need to see a doctor. If it's something I can do with prayer and herbs, then I will help them," she said.

Maria Juarez, who divides her time between Denver and the small Texas town of Fabens, has been working as a curandera for 25 years. Her rates are $60 for an initial consultation that lasts between 30 and 45 minutes. A spiritual cleansing, which ranges from an herbal bath and prayer ritual to the burning of herbs or candles similar to the Native American tradition of smudging, is $70 for one hour. To supplement her income, she sells furniture at local flea markets.

Sitting at her desk in her home office, she pulled out a drawer filled with used men's underwear. They are among the more unusual remnants of past curandera consultations.

Strewn about her office are bottles of potions and bags of powders. Agave, which comes from the cactus plant that tequila is made from, is good for attracting money and for men with "weak sperm when they are trying to impregnate a woman," she said. There's a diverse hodgepodge of religious and spiritual iconography: a Native American dream catcher, a golden Buddha, pictures of angels, saints and various representations of the Virgin Mary.

To attract a love interest or dispel unwanted advances, she uses personal items such as locks of hair or the sole of shoe. Having a person's tears, sweat or other bodily fluids also works well, hence the underwear.

Juarez, who has a nursing degree from Mexico, said the use of herbs and prayer can cleanse a person's aura and purify the soul.

"Many people confuse faith healing with witchcraft," she said. "It's more about spiritual faith."

Juarez said that along with healing physical and emotional ailments, she has helped people with legal and financial problems, alcoholism and the "evil eye." She claims to have cured a man of colon cancer.

She also reads tarot cards and predicts fortunes and futures.

"Men want to hold on to their women. Women want to keep their men. They want to know their future. Will I get my immigration documents? Will I get a new job? Will my wife leave me?" she said.

Four botanicas in Denver

The Botanica Yelegua on Washington Boulevard in the Globeville district is sort of a spiritual drugstore for curanderas and other faith healers.

On a recent day, Cesar Dominguez was there waiting anxiously for Jorge Mauricio, a Santeria priest.

As with curanderismo, Santeria also involves the "cleansing" of malevolent forces that can cause physical and emotional ailments. Mauricio has been able to attract Hispanics from Latin American countries as well as from the Caribbean.

Distress over marital problems led Dominguez to Mauricio, a Cuban native who moved from Miami to Denver in 1983, bringing along his practice based on West African religions.

"After my wife left me . . . I couldn't stop shaking and had a bad cough. I lost 20 pounds. I went to a doctor and a family counselor, neither of which could help me," said Dominguez, a native of Guerrero, Mexico.

"He was in such bad shape, that it took the sacrifice of two roosters and a chicken to help him," said Mauricio, whose religious traditions include the use of animal sacrifice.

"I was going to get a divorce," said Dominguez, who works as a cook. "Things are improving with my wife. We're talking now. Now I'm more tranquil."

At Botanica Caridad del Cobre on Lawrence Street, owner Martin Ramirez sees taxi drivers from Jamaica, St. Croix and other Caribbean islands.

"They come in here speaking French," said Ramirez, who has owned his shop for 22 years. His sister, who was once married to Mauricio, owns Botanica Yemaya on Federal Boulevard in northwest Denver. The city's fourth botanica, Oshun, is on Santa Fe Drive.

Ramirez, who also runs his family's own herbal distributing business, opened a store in Colorado Springs three years ago and is planning to open another in Greeley. He said business has steadily grown.

Customers consist of both faith healers and laymen familiar with the use of herbs, potions and prayers. Most of his clients are Mexican immigrants.

"Many come in for herbs and potions for illnesses. Some want candles that will give them protection from immigration authorities," he said.

He carries all the traditional products, including some of the more unusual such as dried tarantulas, seahorses and snakes. Ramirez sells more than 200 candles with names such as "Get Out of Jail," "Court Cases," "Envy Go Away," "Steady Employment," "Stay Home" and "Triple Stay Home."

There's even a powder that claims to cure alcoholism called "Guts of Devil with Snake Powder."

"It really works," said Ramirez. "It makes the alcohol taste really nasty. And sort of gives drinkers a bad stomachache and diarrhea."

Do you have any potions that could calm President Bush down from his rampage of the language and culture of the United States of America?

A heaping helping of bathtub cheese should do King George II wonders.