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Witchcraft, Capitalism Thrive on Magi
From Newsday.Com
By JO TUCKMAN, Associated Press Writer
March 6, 2004, 3:33 PM EST
CATEMACO, Mexico -- The witchcraft
business is thriving like never before in this lakeside town, hitching
centuries old tradition to modern commercialism. Visitors from across the
country and beyond descend in early March on Catemaco, just inland from the
Gulf of Mexico, in search of a witch -- or "brujo."
Among believers, Friday marked the most potent day of the year for
performing black and white magic -- the annual high point for ritual
cleansing and spells to secure lovers, bring down enemies and even cement
pacts with the devil. In the early morning hours, clients filled
professional witch doctor Luis Mathen's cave-like consultation room and
spilled out on the sidewalk, waiting their turn.
Ricardo Aguiles, 34, said he felt at peace after Marthen had freed him from
the evil he blamed for the failure of his computer repair shop. Maria
Garcia, 33, said she believed the witch could help her control her wayward
husband, while her father, Jose Garcia, was seeking alleviation from aches
and pains. "This is called science," Marthen said while preparing the
potions, amulets and accessories for a day of witchcraft. "Faith and
science."
Witchcraft has inhabited Catemaco for centuries, according to anthropologist
Felix Baez. The tradition is rooted in medieval demonic practices brought by
the Spanish that were mixed with indigenous customs and influenced by black
slaves who worked in the area's sugar cane plantations.
He said commercialism fueled by media interest in the town since the 1980s
has added new elements to the cocktail and caused the popularity of the
phenomenon to explode.
Today young men on bicycles accost visitors immediately when they get here,
eager to lead arrivals to a witch and earn a commission. Some complain that
the cyclists are part of a mafia seeking to control the substantial earning
potential of magic. In less than a generation, the number of witches in
Catemaco has risen from a handful to well over 100, and townspeople say it
is still rising.
Witches trade accusations of charlatanism, and Baez said it is not easy to
separate out the witches who genuinely believe they have supernatural powers
from pretenders. All of them use elements of theater and trickery, and there
is no one official style.
Pedro Gueixpal maintains a Web site and is the most overtly commercial. He
dons a white satin tunic embroidered with Chinese dragons for a simulated
cleansing for the cameras on the night before witches' day. His annual
predictions for next year's events are a fixture in the regional press.
Marthen is more traditional, but no less dramatic. He puts on a black cape
and hood when required to undo somebody else's black magic and shows off
scars he says he acquired when he almost lost control of the devil.
Rafael Aguirre attends his patients in a bright white, air-conditioned room,
wearing a three-piece white suit with a tie and breast pocket handkerchief
-- his celestial aura augmented by piped music.
Aguirre acknowledges that much of his gift has nothing to do with devils or
saints and boils down to a talent at psychological manipulation. But he
insists the work is for the good of his patients. "All the acting is part of
the cure," he says. "You have to give people what they want, and what they
want is to find evil behind things."
Outside Aguirre's consultation room, Elio Garcia, 59, sat for hours waiting
for his turn. He first went to see Aguirre's father 40 years ago to cure his
impotence, and his entire family now comes every year seeking help with a
whole range of life's problems.
"I can't explain where his power come from, those are his secrets," the
grandfather said. "But he is a great doctor. A great man."
Copyright © 2004, The Associated Press
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