Zapotec Shamanic Massage
One of the last things we did in Oaxaca was to book what we took to be a steam bath and massage. The brochure clearly showed a kind of invalid short tub with steam and resident Perkins broiling in it, this seemed like an efficient way for exfoliating the dusty heat of Mexico. Accordingly, our hotel receptionist made the booking.
We sped up through the fumey streets in a reckless taxi, nearly colliding at a crossroads with another equally distraught driver. Gestures of universal interpretation were exchanged. Poodles settled back in their seats and for the second time on world travels blessed the Angels for their protection.
On arrival we found our destination to be a healing centre where all day and sometimes all week sessions took place in a kind of garden pavilion. We, however, were asked to undress and don sheets. Then we entered a yurt shaped (hemispherical) concrete building in which one could barely stand. It was dark apart from an altar lit by guttering candles. The altar featured some ancient stones with what appeared to be a bas relief of The Virgin and child. Curiously the Madona was the dead spit of my Mum aged 25 whom I had dreamed of that very morning in between bouts of the roof driller back at the hotel. Curious!
Water was thrown on the fire behind the altar and suddenly it was unbearably hot. Alice Springs would have been refreshing compared to this. We were then handed bunches of local herbs ( rcsemary was one) with which to swish ourselves all over. Georgie Poodle was asked by our practitioner, a charming Mexican man, to arise and he proceeded to let out a string of invocations in a deep and otherworldly voice. My knowledge of Spanish only enabled me to get a glimmer of their content, but I think he was praying for protection of her life and health and for the riddance of any evil spirits or entities that might be lurking.
more to come soon..........
We sped up through the fumey streets in a reckless taxi, nearly colliding at a crossroads with another equally distraught driver. Gestures of universal interpretation were exchanged. Poodles settled back in their seats and for the second time on world travels blessed the Angels for their protection.
On arrival we found our destination to be a healing centre where all day and sometimes all week sessions took place in a kind of garden pavilion. We, however, were asked to undress and don sheets. Then we entered a yurt shaped (hemispherical) concrete building in which one could barely stand. It was dark apart from an altar lit by guttering candles. The altar featured some ancient stones with what appeared to be a bas relief of The Virgin and child. Curiously the Madona was the dead spit of my Mum aged 25 whom I had dreamed of that very morning in between bouts of the roof driller back at the hotel. Curious!
Water was thrown on the fire behind the altar and suddenly it was unbearably hot. Alice Springs would have been refreshing compared to this. We were then handed bunches of local herbs ( rcsemary was one) with which to swish ourselves all over. Georgie Poodle was asked by our practitioner, a charming Mexican man, to arise and he proceeded to let out a string of invocations in a deep and otherworldly voice. My knowledge of Spanish only enabled me to get a glimmer of their content, but I think he was praying for protection of her life and health and for the riddance of any evil spirits or entities that might be lurking.
more to come soon..........
posted by Tim Goulding at Friday, April 08, 2005
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