The Shaman of the Monkey Island Photography - M1key - Michal Huniewicz

Ah, it's you, welcome.
I've been expecting you.

The jungle around Catemaco is meant to be filled with demons and spirits, benevolent and manevolent. It is also meant to be an opening into other dimensions, somewhat similar to what we saw in Varanasi.

The lagoon is dotted with islands like this one. Some of them are home to monkeys, and we were told not to laugh in their presence, as the sight of bare teeth could trigger their aggression.

Catemaco itself is a small town - the church sports a dome that, to my eye at least, is of Syrian origin. After all, the Spanish conquerors brought Christian buildings that originated from the Umayyad architecture of Islamic Spain.

Apart from being at the Laguna Encantada (the Enchanted Lagoon), Catemaco offers the mysterious La Cueva del Diablo (the Devil's Cave), where the shamans worship the Holy Death. Unlike in many other languages, in Spanish Death is female - they call her la Santa Muerte.

To me, though, something was deeply Miyazaki about Catemaco, its mysteries, little marinas with little boats, and seemingly abandoned holiday infrastructure in the middle of nowhere.

An old, hunchbacked woman that we decided to trust suggested a boatman to us, and so we took one of those little boats to an island shaman.

Not unlike something one would expect in a video game, there is white magic that is used to boost its target, and then there is black magic, used to do harm. Catemaco offers both. This shaman, however, dealt only in white magic, we were told.

We followed the path to the shaman's hut.

It stood there, well maintained but nevertheless harmonious with the landscape.

Her name was Irma. She explained to us how she merely channelled the powers offered to her by Catholic saints or by Virgin Mary herself. She called herself a witch or a witch doctor.

She was not practising black magic, as that requires one to have a pact with the Holy Death. Irma was only interested in helping people, not hurting others. "It's dangerous, black magic. People possessed by the Devil, like the Nahuales, are shapeshifters, the can assume an animal shape." People mentioned to us the story of a woman named Rosenda who would occasionally turn into a pig. In 1972, she was beaten to death while in her porcine form, and turned back into a human being just before her final breath.

These forests are meant to be occupied by chaneques - invisible creatures who seek those "not blessed with Catholicism", and they try to rob them.

Estefania and I paid 300 pesos each to undergo the limpia - a cleansing ritual.

The Padre Nuestro (Our Father) prayer signalled the beginning of the ritual.

Estefania was then whipped with large leaves.

Oils were spread on her body, and an egg was rubbed against her face.

"The oils increase body temperature, so it's important to drink water afterwards", suggested the witch.

I underwent the same ritual, and it felt like a more raw version of the rejuvenating cosmetic session one would get in Baden-Baden or Southeast Asia.
In the photo, a woman named Yesenia who introduced us to the witch and took our money. According to Estefania, she sounded like someone from an infomercial.

Irma's story was quite intriguing though. She used to live a normal life, and then left her husband and child in order to live in the jungle of Catemaco, apparently following her grandfather's footsteps.

Irma only wanted to help and cure people. She did say she would send those she could not help to seek medical attention.

As we were leaving, more people arrived to consult the witch.

The witch warned us not to pursue any kind of pacts with the Devil, as the usual Faustian deal people would get from the Devil was twenty years of happiness and success, but after the two decades pass, the Devil will return to claim what's his - not only your life, but also that of your family.

The witch told us both we were clean - not haunted by any demons, and not affected by any curses. That's right - should you have a curse placed upon you, white magic can get rid of it. Black magic can reverse it.
When she asked us whether we felt any different, I politely said oh yes, but Estefania simply said no, and that her neck remained eqaually sore from the long coach journey as it was before the limpia.

We decided to experience black magic.

In Catemaco, shamans are everywhere, really, so we quickly found one.

He would not let us photograph him. Estefania asked whether he could be at least interviewed, and he also said no, but after that he proceeded to talk at length about his vision of the universe. "I cannot risk my knowledge will interfere with world's politics" was his answer.
The strange looking head is an Eleguá. "He represents the beginning and end of life, and the opening and closing of paths in life. Sometimes known as the trickster, he likes to play jokes on people. He enjoys candy and toys. Despite his childlike nature, however, he's a very powerful Oricha [spirit in Latin America]. [...] Eleguá is always mentioned first in any ceremony, because without his permission, the doors to communication with the other Orichas stay closed."

Your usual black magic ritual would take place in the Devil's Cave, but we quickly learnt what that would entail, and let us say we were both somewhat alarmed. There would have to be an animal sacrifice (I was alarmed more), and Estefania would have to come alone and naked (Estefania was alarmed more).

"The Old Queen of the World, the Holy Death, came to me when I was 13 or 14. That's how I received my power. I merely restore the balance [of my customers], I help them realise their true potential." He said many things we could not quite follow. At one point, he did suggest he possessed a large temple Etefania would have to suck if she wanted to get the most out of the ritual, and she listened to it nodding respectfully, after which we left.

We were not impressed by that shaman, so we decided to find one more.

What's more, I began to realise that the shaman witch we visited did not even live on an island - she lived on a peninsula. Nothing in Catemaco was quite as expected.

Well, we couldn't trust everyone in Catemaco, that much was certain.

We arrived at the house of El Profe - the Professor.

Jesus was undeniably omnipresent.

As we waited for him to prepare, I explored the room where we were told to wait. There were Native American-style decorations and paitings depicting the local area.

There was even the good old Hindu goddess Kali, although with a Christian medallion.

The house was modest but rather neat.

Then, there was this.

Not everything was obviously spiritual.

This ritual cost us more (1200 pesos, man!), as it was necessary to purchase eggs, incense, and copal, or so we were told. Jesus might have ruled the guest room, but this lair was dominated by the Holy Death.

A dead coyote guarded the ritual room.

El Profe told us the Holy Death was venerated by the Olemcs, Mayans, Aztecs, and now them. He admitted there were many shamans in Catemaco, but not many possessed real power. "I saw her, I saw Mi Niña [my girl]", he said of the Holy Death, adding he expected 10 people out of every 100 to believe him.

"Karma is real." He said that despite being 50, he was healthy, as he was living his life the right way. He said many things we did not quite follow: "We didn't come [to this world] to be intact. It is a consolation each time you say, it could have been worse. Faith lives inside you, you believe in what you feel more than in what you see. We all love God sometimes - when we don’t have a place to run to. You end up kneeling down for that marvelous being".

He invoked the names of God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost in order to access the power of the Holy Death. Eggs seemed to serve a special role, as they were used again; the yolk ending up in a glass full of liquid to make predictions and a diagnosis.

Estefania was then whipped once again.

Smoke filled the room. The shaman repeatedly spat into Estefania's face, but she did not even wince.

Then came the strange moment when he repeatedly called Estefania's name, and she would not answer. For a moment I though she might be hyponotised or stoned.

She did respond in the end, and the shaman began to uncontrollably burp, which made it all even more awkward. He said it was a common thing during these sort of rituals.

The result was that Estefania was possessed! - which ran contrary to what the witch had said. That's why Estefania was always tired and not quite happy. Another ritual would be necessary.

El Profe told us he spent five hours in a coma, and used that time to explore the afterlife. Following that, he would occasionally lose consciousness, and each time it was a spiritual experience.
Like other shamans, El Profe pulled out photos of people he had helped. "The worst are the diseases of the soul".

There were lollipos and candy used as ofrenda - an offering for the dead. The shaman gave some to us, and Estefania didn't mind consuming it; I gave mine to someone else, not telling them where it was from.

El Profe insisted on another ritual during which, you guessed it, Estefania would have to be naked. We made our excuses.

They say some people visited Catemaco, and laughed at it all. They never left, their spirits haunt the lagoon, and the same will happen to everyone who disrespects the magic of the place.