Could Caridad even be said to know how to listen at all, much less listen properly so as to not misdiagnose an illness? A curandera not only had the health of her patient in her own hands but the spirit as well. What if Caridad gave out the wrong remedio and caused the sick one to get worse, or to go mad, or even to die?

So for a while, Caridad just paid very close attention, observing her teacher at work. “Everything we need for healing is found in our natural surroundings,” doña Felicia told her and put up her two hands in front of Caridad, palms facing her. With those hands she had repaired more bones and muscles and rubbed out more intestinal obstructions than you could shake a stick at. Yes, those two wrinkly instruments of ancient medical technology were in the final analysis all doña Felicia could count on.

Among the most common ailments Caridad learned were empacho and bilis; mal de ojo, caída de mollera, and susto (not to be mistaken with espanto or corage) had to do as much with the body as with the spirit; and aigre, which could be translated to a number of things, the most common being just plain gas. Yes, there were many others and a wide range of variations even among these. These illnesses could be a result of physical causes or, as said before, the result of someone’s bad intentions. “Watch that you never give people reason to envy you!” doña Felicia warned her. Oh, envy was a formidable force, doña Felicia told Caridad, which could cause a victim to suffer the worst pain imaginable, even death!

Quite often these symptoms were not only treated with herbs, decoctions, and massages but also with “limpias”—cleansings. Depending on the ailment the cleansing treatment might range from employing tobacco smoke, an egg, or a live black hen, herbal baths, or sweeping the body with certain branches and incense.

No, the work of the curandera was anything but simple. But one thing was sure, as Caridad saw for herself, as long as the faith of the curandera was unwavering, successful results were almost certainly guaranteed—the only thing that could prevent them was the will of God.

When they were not treating patients, life became a rhythm of scented baths, tea remedies, rubdowns, and general good feeling for Caridad. Her body, already externally repaired from the mutilation it had undergone, now was slowly restored internally by the psychic attentiveness she received from her teacher and which she learned to give to herself.