Sunday, September 24, 2006

How to Meet and Dance with Your Death (Como Encuentrar y Bailar con Su Muerte): A Cure for Suicide

How to Meet and Dance with Your Death
(Como encuentrar y bailar con su muerte): A Cure for Suicide

This was told to me by an old Curandera, an India from Brazil whom I met in the Yucatan. She gave me this recipe and cautioned me that it could be done once, and only once.

To meet and dance with your Death, take:

2 gallons of pulque (fermented Mayan beverage), or if unavailable, gin
1 case tequila
Several cases beer
1 bottle Mescal
2 ounces good marijuana
carton cigarettes
three large peyotes
coffee as needed

For three weeks, do not eat meat, starch, sweets, or cabbage of any kind. You may have citrus fruits, papaya, watery vegetables, yucca and bacalǻo, salted nuts, cream, and a little halvah.

Drink and smoke everyday, reserving the Mescal and peyote. Smoke the marijuana in silence; drink only when there is music playing and people are dancing; at other times, walk, preferably uphill.

Bailar con fuerza cada dia: dance vigorously every day, either alone or in a group, but never in a couple. Be friendly with the other dancers but dance with no one partner longer than a few moments, and do not stay in one spot as it causes blood clots. Dance until your hair and clothing are entirely wet and your chin tilts upwards naturally.

When you are not dancing, be silent or listen to music, but do not chatter and certainly do not converse. By all means, sing and chant, but do not ululate, because this brings forth unnecessary demons.

When you have finished the pulque and most of the tequila, go to the city. Find two men, one dark and one light; they will be your guides. It is good if you like them, but they must not be your lover—your lover always blocks your view of Death (su amante oscura su vista de la muerte).Go together to an old room and take the peyotes; chop them well and mix them with strawberries and yogurt; the sour will help you not to vomit as much.

An hour after you have taken the peyote, the light-haired man will appear to be asleep. Do not disturb him: He is calling your Death.

Take the hand of the dark man. Ask him where he wants to go, and go with him: He will lead you to your Death.

Follow the dark man until he brings you to a crowd of people. You will see familiar faces in the crowd, family and old friends, but each time you turn to greet them, it will be a stranger. This is where you will meet your Death.

Your Death will be a man who looks like you, a little taller, but with the same color hair and possibly the same nose. He will be wearing a hat. He will appear preoccupied, perhaps agitated. He will be sweating.

You will wonder where he has come from, and whether he is sick. Do not ask. And do not ask him to dance. Wait.

When he sees you, you will feel something just below your hair, or in your nostrils, as if the room suddenly had become very cold, or very quiet. You will hear a song—an unusual but very familiar song—and then both of you will leap to the floor at the exact same moment and begin to dance.

You will dance for a long time and you will never dance better. Death will continue to sweat. As his face begins to shine, you will see beneath his skin and know that you are not dancing with a man, but with Death. After that, you will never fear him again, nor seek him.

When the dancing is over, go somewhere and drink the bottle of Mescal; leave the worm in the bottle for Death.

Do this correctly the first time, because it can not be done more than once. To do this once is sagrado, sacred; to do this more than once is common, so no lo jode. If you do this more than once, you will do it often, and then you will become an old borracha who sleeps with common men. Punto.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I have returned to your website several times since your poem, Spring Vow. There is something in your work that urges me to speak in my own voice, to let my prose be a truer reflection. Thank you.

This recounting is lovely, with a particular rhythm that echoes how it might feel to dance with your death, just once, and then letting lovers block your view. I can tell it will linger with me for the rest of the day and into the evening and perhaps into dreams as well.

I wish I lived in New York for I'd come to the poetry readings and be transformed. Instead I will have to settle for your CD. which I purchased yesterday.

Sue

Larissa Shmailo said...

Thank you, albeit belatedly, Sue! Hope we can meet up soon!

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