Folk healing traditions and rituals that have long existed among Hispanic communities along the U.S. Southern border and more often been associated with the elderly and poor have been revitalized as they have “entered the age of Instagram. More and more younger people are taking on rituals they learned from their grandmothers and deploying them against 21st century problems,” Edgar Sandoval reports in the New York Times (December 16). The folk healers, known as “curanderas,” preceded the arrival of Spanish conquistadors to Latin America and Mexico but eventually blended indigenous rituals with elements of Catholicism, taking on Asian and African folk traditions as well. The practice has taken hold in areas with sparse medical resources and where established medicine may be distrusted, such as Texas’s Rio Grande Valley, where many people rely on homegrown remedies and folk traditions as stand-ins for traditional health treatments, Sandoval writes. This is especially the case with mental health, where statistics show that Latinos lag behind other minorities in seeking treatment. While medical authorities have warned against the adverse effects of folk remedies, with reports of deaths from consuming some of the substances they can involve, curanderismo has become so accepted in these communities that it is not unusual to see street signs and TV ads advertising folk healing services.
Source: Pikara Magazine.
Sandoval writes that spiritual cleansing sessions, known as “limpias” and involving waving the smoke from a concoction with sage over the body of the recipient, are now conducted on public beaches. Curanderas trade recipes online for blocking “envy energies” and sell artisan candles bearing the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe (along with statues of her, St. Jude, and Santa Muerte, the Latino version of the Grim Reaper) in shops. Their clients are often college educated. One young curandera, whose great grandmothers had been midwives, said she began interacting with an entity she believed to be the Angel of Death, known as Azrael. “You make it your own,” she said. “There is no right or wrong. You do what’s right for you.” Another 39-year-old modern folk healer, who embraces the moniker of “millennial curandera,” combines old traditions she learned from her grandmother and aunt with skills she acquired from her graduate education in medical anthropology and Latin art history. In addition to spiritual services, she will also offer clients practical and scientific advice, such as cutting caffeine and sugar intake for problems with insomnia and anxiety. The side of the border matters to how curanderas operate; in northern Mexico, where indigenous culture is not as widespread and the Catholic Church’s hold is stronger, such folk healing takes place more in the shadows to avoid stigma. In the U.S., one curandera said she felt more freedom to practice, even having Catholic priests stop by for her counsel.
