Superstition

Basically Stevie Wonder was talking about  Guatemalans. I am not sure that’s common knowledge, but after being here awhile, I am pretty sure that’s exactly who he was talking about.

Almost every day I learn about a new superstition vehemently claimed as fact. At first it annoyed me…I was told so many times that I was sick because I ate Mango at night, or after it rained, or something seemingly as arbitrary. I became so sick of defending my illness, at one point actually explaining “look, I ate fecal matter, okay, I wish I was sick because I ate fruit at the wrong time of day or when it was wet outside, but no, I am sick because I ate poop.” Peace corps is always testing the boundaries of what rock bottom looks like.

I think my favorite superstitious tidbit comes from a friend who lives a department away who was told that she became sick because of her barren womb. If she had kids she definitely wouldn’t have gotten sick. Oh Guatemala.

When I was back at my training site the little boy, Miguel, had a piece of bread wrapped around his stomach to cure his belly ache. When I asked the rationale behind this I was told because he ate pineapple, which had worms in it, and the bread pulls the worms out. I am not entirely sure I understand this process, but I picture the worms crawling out of his stomach to…eat the bread? Which is repulsive.

Last week I went to read a book in a field overlooking the lake, it was beautiful, but I was eaten alive. I have about 15 bug bites on one calf. The insects here are completely resistant to the bug spray, lucky for us.  In any case I have been picking and scratching like a meth head (good ol’ Montgomery County reference for you guys). Dona Cecilia noticed my scratching and asked if I had fleas. Valid first question. After explaining that I didn’t, or at least don’t think I do, and showing her the bug bites she asked if she could put “puro” on it. Having no idea what that was I immediately agreed, obviously. Later that night after my fancy sweat lodge bath, Dona C came in with a leaf full of tobacco and I helped her cover my legs in tobacco juice, yum. I began wondering where these superstitions, and wives tales, these strange remedies came from when I had a flashback of me as a kid putting clear nail polish on chigger bites with my Gran. It stung so bad, but I did it because this wise person told me to. Years later I found out that doesn’t actually do anything but hurt, and I was so mad at the person who told me, smashing a wonderful memory of a beloved person from my childhood. Then I started thinking about other weird stuff we do. Guatemalans would laugh at us if we told them that passing in front of a black cat is bad luck, or walking under a ladder, or breaking a mirror, or putting nail polish on bug bites…. It’s amazing how quick we are to question the motives of others, or call them silly as we knock on wood and throw salt over our shoulder (though, do people really do that one?). Just another lesson I have learned here so far, we are all weird fucks who believe what we were taught often without questioning, and psychosomatic problems and solutions go a long way on the road to healing.