Just because you see churches everywhere in Mexico does not mean the occult has anything but a firm grip.
Last year, I had a Really Bad Week, which was actually the week of Thanksgiving, my favorite U.S. holiday. A disturbing and sad experience at a hacienda had left me feeling downright haunted, a feeling I couldn’t seem to shake.
A couple of weeks later, I was sitting at a good friend’s table, telling her about it. She was immediately convinced that a bunch of bad spirits had seeped into my pores, and promptly brought out an egg and a glass of water.
She lit a candle, rubbed the egg all over me and cracked it into the glass. “See all those air bubbles coming to the top? Each one is a spirit you’d absorbed there. No wonder you haven’t been able to shake this off.”
This friend is a fan of the occult and a true believer. I am a cynic, bordering on being an asshole, about all things supposedly magical. “If magic worked, it would work,” is my standard line.
And yet…
The possibility of some actual agency in this world is just too intoxicating. Sorcery? I’m in. Protection crystals for this nervous driver’s car? Don’t mind if I do! And sure, let’s go to Mass, too. I’ll keep my scoff to myself as the priest starts out with his standard line: “First of all, we’ve got to remember: we are all just awful. I mean, really terrible. Okay, let’s continue.”
“Please don’t punish me, Great Beyond, for being an ass” is always a part of my prayer when kneeled behind the pew.
My friend does spells and wears protection. She’s 100 percent convinced of her powers of perception. I’ll admit it: she’s hit the nail on the head several times when it’s come to previously veiled situations.
And she’s not the only one. Mexico is full of sorcerers, witches and magic to meet all your spiritual needs.
Protection 101
When it comes to moving the spirit world in your favor, Mexico offers an array of colorful options!
If you’re not yet ready for a trip to see a “brujo” — “witch” has both a feminine and masculine form in Spanish — you might consider some amulets!
The most common protection I’ve noticed of late is from the evil eye, known here as “mal de ojo.” If you’re a baby — the subject of many a superstition — the protection will likely be a red piece of string tied around your wrist, which doubles for good luck.
If you’re older, it will likely be some sort of jewelry or decor item of what’s known in English as a God’s eye. I’ve got one, of course.
What is the “mal de ojo”, you may ask?
Basically, it’s the bad energy that those jealous of you send your way, on purpose or not. Call it involuntary bad-vibe casting, if you want. And others directing these negative feelings your way, some believe, is a sure way to plop right down into a big ‘ol bucket of terrible luck.
Milagros — literally “miracles” — are also common throughout Latin America. They’re basically little metal charms, meant to bring luck, protection and spiritual emphasis where you want them to land.
For more modern and cosmopolitan Mexicans who are further removed culturally from the more traditional traditions, we’ve got crystals galore, too! At least from what I can tell, this seems to be a New Age import from north of the border.
And if you’re feeling really daring, dip into a tarot-reading joint or let a wandering fortune teller read your palm! The latter can be found wandering among tourists in places like the port of Veracruz.
Fear of the occult
These charms, of course, aren’t universal. Devout Catholics especially have been warned — and in turn warn others — about the dangers of black magic. Many stay away in fear, believing that it will invite the devil in. And if that’s not counter-productive, then I don’t know what is.
That doesn’t mean, of course, that they’re not also in need of a little spiritual help! The milagros mentioned above, as well as a good selection of carefully-colored candles, bridge the divide.
Figures of saints also make for important aids. You might notice homes and businesses with little altars in the corners. They’ll usually feature a picture or a figure of a specific saint, depending on what they want help with. When people will be around to monitor for safety — magic only goes so far — candles will often be lit in front of it.
Plenty of neighborhoods, as well, have larger glassed in altars, usually to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Electric lights are usually used in those, thank goodness.
And actually, there are two in my own neighborhood! The builder of the house I’m renting also inlaid some ceramic images right into the concrete, so I’d say the Virgin has us pretty well covered.
And remember, we’ve got the big guns, too. If things get really bad and you’re sure you’re cursed, take a trip to Catemaco, the Veracruz town famous for its sorcerers. They’ll clean you right up! Or they might just smack you with some tree branches. I am not the authority on whether or not their magical procedures work. But as the Thomas theorem states, if we perceive something as real, then it is real in its consequences. Maybe the real magic is the transformation in how you feel.
Sarah DeVries is a writer and translator based in Xalapa, Veracruz. She can be reached through her website, sarahedevries.substack.com.
