When I put on my abuelo’s curandero headdress, I remember all he taught me and I become the curandero. His totem was the snake, symbol of death and rebirth. I have his serpent-entwined staff and have made the snake my totem also.
Since I’ve been living among the Anglos, I have seen a dry time worse than anything I lived through in the desert lands of Mexico. I live among people who have a different way of magic, but it’s potent. We have worked together to bring back the water.
Young Anna, the boss’ daughter, knew I was a shaman. She said she had a vision of me dressed as a curandero performing our traditional rain dance. So I offered to help. I can control the wind and the clouds. I can call on Talaloc, the Aztec god of rain. I can bring the storm.
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