ONE DAY ONE SUMMER

 

I had such a free life as a boy.   When I was 10 through 17 I was lucky enough to spend much of my summers in Mexico, often with my Grandmother.  I lost her this year.  She was 96 and I loved her dearly.

Summers are hot in Mexico - duh.  One night I just couldn't take it. I had played soccer  in the street earlier that day and was exhausted.  The concrete walls just held onto the afternoon heat inside.  The bed was hot but I felt a cool breeze coming in from the window.  I wandered outside and laid on the covered concrete porch. 

 It felt so good.  I was shirtless and in my shorts.  The warm tile was not too hot because of the breeze. Before I knew it, I was out.  The loud parrot next door was completely silenced by my deep channeling to rest.

What I didn't know is that the cool breeze foretold the coming of a frigid mountain thunder storm which was almost upon me.  I laid there through much of it, deep in my trance of sleep.  I finally awoke to a flash of lightning and the quickening of thunder that I believe broke me into puberty.  I was shivering and damp.  I got up shaking and fled under the cover of still warm blankets stuffed with the wool my Grandmother sheared from her sheep at the ranch.

The next morning I woke up sick.   My Grandmother, being prudent, called the local Curandera (witch doctor - not kidding).  If you want to know about it go to the National Geographic video of Extreme Healing: Mexico here (its slow and requires Quicktime) or listen to this 017.mp3.

She was there early.  If you watched the video, you saw the old lady scrubbing her client with a weed.  Mine was an ash not a basil.  That happened to me only I was laying down.

A HUGE LATIN WITCH laid on top of me and whipped me with the ash - repeatedly.  Then she whisked the ash as if she was sweeping the floor till she was out of the house with it.  I couldn't giggle as I had just been crushed.  I laugh about it now.

Several years later, I learned that she was literally squeezing the evil out of me and collecting it with the ash till the house was "clean" of it.

I got up the next day feeling fine.  Many years later, however, I turned into a freak.  Something mischievous remained.

I know - what a funny thing to think about on Christmas....
Happy Holidays anyway - this bit o culture was my present to you.

Merry Christmas Abuelita, where ever you are.