Beliefs in the Andes

Sometimes it is hard for others to understand what we do and the things that we are up against.  

This is a story that was told to me by a good friend. It is a personal account. 

Just a few weeks ago, as I had a chance to visit with our friend, D. I asked about her family. She told me that they have had lots of stuff happen. She told me that I wouldn’t believe her,  that she barely believed it at first, and then she proceeded to tell me the following.

Just after she got home to her family, her sister M. got sick.  M. had had a baby a month earlier.  One night, when D. checked on her sister in the next room, she said she had a very strong pain in her side.  There was nothing visible on the skin where she said it hurt.  The next morning, M. began to have a high fever.  They took her to the doctor, and the doctors told her that it was appendicitis. They wanted to operate right away. However, the parents did not want them to operate. The family believed that it was the “sobreparto,” a sickness that a woman can get after childbirth, especially if she leaves the house within the first 40 days—the time period that she is supposed to rest and recover, and basically stay in her bed, or at least her house.  The only time that her sister was out of the house was the 2 nights that she spent in the hospital for the delivery.  M. thought back to the time when she was in the hospital and she remembered a nightmare that she had.  She dreamed that someone was sticking a big needle in her from her head all the way through her whole body to her feet.  They believed it was the “Pishtaco”—the name given to a fat sucker in an Andean legend. Only the people don’t consider this to be a legend; they consider it to be fact. 

The family decided to take M. from the hospital, with the doctors still recommending a surgery.  They consulted with her brother’s new girlfriend who was specialized in “healings” (basically she was a shaman or witch doctor). In order to diagnose the problem, she told them to get a young ginnea pig. She was to sleep with this for a few hours. Then the shaman cut open the ginnea pig to examen it. She then  told the family that it was Pishtaco and that they would need to do certain things so that she would survive.  These steps were necessary not only for her survival, but also to replace the fat that was stolen from her. 

They had to take some fat from a cow and boil it into a broth for a soup.  M. was to eat that.  Then, they needed a vial of human fat.  The shaman had a small bottle that she sold to them for s/.1,000, about $380.  They were to heat this up by rubbing it in their hands, and then take a dropper and put 3 drops in a hot cup of water.  M. was to drink this, several times a day, for several days, until the pain was gone.  My friend described the smell as absolutely horrible.  She couldn’t stand the thought of having to drink it, but she prepared it and gave it to her sister, hoping that she would get better.   

M. did get better after a few days.  She then traveled an hour away to see her boyfriend, and she got a fever again.  She returned home sick and drank the hot water with human fat concoction for a few more days, and she was then well again. 

This story was told to me 2 weeks after she was better. 

This family also claims to be believers. 

Even for many believers, there is always a mix of the old practices and the underlying beliefs. 

This is the syncretism that exists in the Andes.  

P.S.  My friend said that the family is guarding the little vial of human fat like gold, just in case they need it again in the future.   

Unexpected Gift

 Yesterday, just after lunch, the doorbell rang.  We weren't expecting anyone, and as John answered, he told me that it was the guy that we have hired some in the past to  help with the garden and cutting the grass. 

After talking with him for awhile, John came back in the house holding 2 big, heavy bags.  This man had given us a big bag of potatoes and an even bigger bag of habas.  I was shocked. He came by just to give us some of the food from his fields as a way of saying thank you. 

Now, for those of you that don't know what habas are, well, John always calls them Lima Beans on Steroids.  They are huge.  But they don't exactly taste like lima beans; they are kinda sweeter.

Then, our dilemma was what to do with all of those beans!!  Who could we give them to? We would never eat that many on our own!

 What about freezing some beans? Or canning some?  Well, I have a tiny freezer. I mean, the refrigerators are smaller here than they are in the states. MUCH smaller. There isn't much room in there for anything. 

I then decided to call my mother-in-law to ask her advice on canning beans, and after talking to her I was sure that it wouldn't be too hard and we were going to try it. 

 It was actually REALLY easy!!  Plus, my

 wonderful hubby did all the hard work in shelling them all. :)

We had some habas for dinner last night and still have some left over. I also canned 5-quart size jars and so now we will have a few more "easy" options for sides for a few meals.  And they are yummy!

The finished product! I think the sound of the lids as they "pop" and seal is just about one of the best sounds in the world!