This story is not my own. My friend’s uncle’s brother-in-law’s cousin told my friend, and they told me this story that I am telling you.
So I can’t vouch for accuracy or veracity, but I can say that, in my humble opinion, it is one of the better stories I’ve heard in the last few years.
Once upon a time—no. Long ago and far away—no. It was a dark and dreary night—no. Lend me your ear and you shall hear—no.
Real stories never start like that…
My friend Robbie told me this story. He’s one of the smartest people I know, and he believes it, so it must be true. His uncle Paulo heard it from his cousin Vinnie, who heard it from his brother-in-law Jimmie, who says it happened in the mountains of Peru with an old curandero called Diabolo.
Diabolo performed ceremonies for people suffering from ailments ranging from blisters and boils to schizophrenia and demonic possession.
He smoked tobacco and drank potions that allowed him to journey into the deep underworld. There he conversed with the afflicted’s spirit animal and learned the reason for— and treatment for—their illness.
Upon his return to this middle world, Diabolo would describe his journey to the patient, give a blessing and, sometimes, a tincture, tea, or salve that resulted in a cure.
His reputation spread, and people came from great distances, often enduring great hardships to reach the old man’s hut.
Many were turned away, for before he agreed to help they would have to pass a test.
Jimmie was suffering from an irritating, itching rash with oozing pustules emitting pale, foul-smelling sludge. He had been to the doctor many times and tried many prescribed remedies, but the rash would always return, often worse than before.
He heard about Diabolo from a local woman and, in desperation, made the arduous trek to the hut in the mountains.
Greeted by the healer’s apprentice, he was instructed to answer the prova de autenticidade— a riddle, a test of authenticity.
After several days of isolation, self-questioning, and deep thought, Jimmie returned to the hut in possession of the correct answer.
Finally admitted to Diabolo’s space, he was told he would be allowed to witness the sacred ceremony.
The ceremony lasted three days and three nights. He saw the ancient one appear to have seizures, often speaking in unintelligible languages, and at several points appearing dead for minutes to hours.
Alternately awed and terrified, Jimmie also noticed that his rash was fading, the itching gradually subsiding, pustules drying up and disappearing. By the third day, Jimmie was cured.
As Diabolo recovered from his altered state, he advised Jimmie that he had healed himself— that solving the riddle was the cure, and the ceremony was just for entertainment.
He said that anyone who could solve the riddle would have the ability to heal themselves. Diabolo also warned that sharing the riddle with anyone would result in the rash returning— without a possible cure.
So if you believe this story from my friend’s, uncle’s, brother-in-law’s cousin, and you want a cure for your illness, you may have to pack your bags and head for the mountains of Peru.
Desert Dweller 