It is nearly thanksgiving the time I write this, but by the time this story is published I bet it is going to be the holiday season, so... Feliz Ano Novo! (Happy New Year)
Considering that I was experiencing too many paranormal activities (or not) this year, my relatives from my grandmother's side whom were the Tapirapé Indians and believed in shamanism, and told me to visit them during a weekend.
They brought me to a Shaman Village which is a place where the Shaman from the past is buried and prayed for safety during the cleansing ritual later that I will be experiencing. We walked to a log house where they believe the family of the powerful shaman once lived and waited for the shaman whom will be performing my cleansing ritual later on.
Just a little information about my family background as you can read from my profile my father is born in a Põuđaŕ Family (tribal background people), and is raised by my grandmother. He did not like my grandmother's beliefs and always think that they are too old for a modern man like him, and so he left the family when he was 19 years old to work in a harbor in Rio de Janeiro with my far away uncle (a relative of my Nipo-Brasileiro grandfather). That's why I am not part of the tribe like my grandmother is, but I do have their blood. My grandmother passed away when I was 17 years old, 15 years ago.
We waited for the shaman for more than 30 minutes. We found that it was the same man whom had brought us to the village; he later explains that he had to be prepared and needed to "clean" himself first before performing the ritual. As you read on you might find out why.
He stacked up a pile of tobacco and start filling his pipe. He put on a colorful mask which I thought was just a wall decoration and started chanting. As he light his tobacco, he started to dance and puffed the smoke on me, as he danced I was puffed and smoked, I started to cough and told them that I felt uncomfortable.
The shaman told me to relax and continued puffing the smoke on me, my eyes started to tear (of course) then the shaman told me that bad things are coming out (really?). He starting to touch me with the feathers on the mask and explains that he is "cleaning" off the bad things on my body.
When the dancing and puffing finished, the shaman invited all the relatives in, some of them shared a herbal drink they called kawi and offered me some as well, it was white and strange tasted, like drinking a smoothie made out of raw peanuts and yams (very "soily, leafy" flavored). Não é ruim (not bad).
That was not the end of the ritual the shaman started to chant and dance again and suddenly stopped his motion as if someone had pressed a pause button.
"Roy meu querido" (Roy, my dear) said the shaman in a strange high pitched raspy voice.
"mim?" (me?) I replied. Suddenly I realize the the shaman did not speak Portuguese and I knew in that moment it was someone else and not the shaman himself.
"avó?" (grandma?) I answered again. The shaman smiled and continued to dance and lighted his tobacco again. The ritual ended late at night, after that moment the shaman did not act strange anymore but danced and puffed the smoke of the tobacco.
Sorry it took too long to explain what I had experienced; it was strange because no one else other than my grandmother would speak Portuguese in the Family. Oh yes, they spoke English since they were educated to speak in English and their tribal language which I am not familiar at all, but not Portuguese.
Well, I feel a lot better now, but I was thinking for days because there was too little communication involved. Strange but it could be awkward too to say that the shaman was just acting, because he had never met my grandmother.
Could my grandmother really had come back during the ritual?
Love from São Paulo