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Chapter Nine
- University of New Mexico Press
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CARL’S WoRLD INCLUDED PEoPLE WHo BELIEvED IN powerful spirits that could cause illness or death and in the intervention of other opposing powers to cure illness. The clinic straddled the spirit world, with its witches, spells, and evil eyes, and another world where tiny microorganisms caused illness, and antibiotics could cure them. Carl seemed to live in both worlds, and perhaps his unusual relationships existed in the space between worlds. I remembered how I had initially thought that I lived in only one world, the world of scientific medicine. I would be guided by scientific methods and combat the dangerous folk beliefs. I didn’t know that the same patients who came to the clinic and accepted my bottles of medicine would also consult herbalists and witches for potions and spells. But I had heard that some people thought Carl was a witch who could control thoughts and people. Perhaps they considered all of us at the clinic a different variety of witch with different powers and bottles instead of spells, but witches nonetheless—witches with strange appetites and desires and great powers. And as I lurched from book to book seeking answers for strange symptoms, I became desperate enough to try anything that might work, particularly if the patient encouraged it, like the small woman with wild eyes who first led me down this path. She wore black, like a grieving widow, her dark eyes peering out from a scarf that covered her head. And she arrived at dusk, as my last patient was leaving the clinic. “Mañana,” I told her. “Come back tomorrow.” chapter nine • david p. sklar “Please, Doctor, I must speak with you.” She was insistent. The intensity of her eyes frightened me. “Pásale.” I motioned to her to come in. We sat down in my office, and she began her story softly, as if afraid that someone might overhear it. “Doctor, I have a . . . a . . . frog in my stomach.” “A frog?” “yes, Doctor, a frog.” I looked for a hint of a smile, wondering if someone was trying to play a cruel joke on me. In this little village, people were always joking and making fun of my Spanish pronunciation. But the woman showed no trace of a smile. “How do you know it’s a frog?” I asked. “I can feel it.” “Well, but it could be gas in your stomach or maybe a parasite?” “No, it’s a frog. I can feel it jumping. Here, feel it,” she said, and she put my hand on her stomach. I searched for a lump or a pulsation or perhaps the movement of gas. I didn’t feel anything. “Well, how did it get there?” I asked. She stared at me hesitantly, carefully measuring the next sentence. “A witch put it there,” she said. “A witch?” “yes, he’s my neighbor. He wants my cornfield, but I don’t want to sell it to him, so he did this to me.” “Well, I wish I could help you, but we just give out medicines here. And we don’t have any pills for your problem,” I said. She looked at me skeptically and began to move away toward the door. Her face remained determined. “Wait a moment, Señora. I have a question,” I said. She turned. “What if you can’t get rid of the frog? What will you do?” “We have to kill the witch. It’s the only way, unless I can find someone with stronger power to take out the frog.” “Um . . . ,” I muttered. “So you want me to unbewitch you, to get the frog out?” I asked. “yes, Doctor, please. I can’t sleep the entire night.” I contemplated the ceremony I might concoct, with chanting and odiferous potions and bits of hair and blood and articles of clothing and smoke and drums. It seemed crazy. I had come to this clinic as a [3.235.46.191] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 12:59 GMT) la clínica • volunteer, to use modern medical techniques to combat superstitions such as this. yet the possibility intrigued me, and it might save a life. I looked around the clinic. An empty medicine tin could provide noise. Liniment could provide odor and texture. A dental cotton ball could provide the shape and form to hold or wear. I gathered more equipment—adhesive tape, antibiotic ointment, isopropyl alcohol, and baby powder. All could be useful in my ceremony. I gathered Deanna and...