An Ancient Art Meets Modern Advertising By David A. Fahrenthold Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, August 10, 2006; A02 http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/08/09/AR2006080901708_pf.html CHELSEA, Mass. -- The healer's commercial turns up occasionally on Spanish-language television here, slipped in among spots in which a telephone calling card hops around a giant map of Latin America, or in which a young girl's ear-splitting shrieks describe getting satellite TV channels Gratis! Gratis! Gratis ! His ad, in contrast, starts out so somberly it appears as though it should be for antidepressants. "If it feels like the roof is falling in on you . . . " a voice says as a picture of a woman with head in hands is shown. Then, things get a little weird: The commercial shows a statue of the Virgin Mary, another statue of an Indian in a headdress, a plate with apples arranged on it. The announcer talks about brujería -- witchcraft -- love, and a man called Hermano Santa Cruz. "Money comes in, and good luck returns," with his help, the ad promises. Then, in the manner of any good personal-injury lawyer, the commercial ends by showing the addresses and phone numbers for two local offices. "Brother Holy Cross" is probably not the only person in Greater Boston laying claim to a centuries-old tradition of religiously tinged folk healing, which has survived in America's Latino diaspora despite years of hoaxes and scams perpetrated in its name. But he does seem to be the only one with his own commercial. "I'm always leery about people who do things like that," said Elizabeth de la Portilla, a professor at the University of Texas at San Antonio, after she was told about the ad. De la Portilla has studied practitioners of these healing traditions, who are often called curanderos after the Spanish verb curar , to cure. "Especially someone who has two offices? Please." A bit of background: Experts say there are many folk-healing traditions in Latin America and the Caribbean, born out of the collision of Old World and New World religious beliefs and medical traditions. Historically, the healers were used by rural people who didn't have access to doctors, or by people who were seeking treatment for conditions that modern medicine didn't recognize, such as a baby made fussy or ill by the evil eye. Now, de la Portilla and other experts said, the healers are still sought out in some Latino communities around the United States, often for physical ailments as well as problems with relationships and work. They can offer prayers, teas made with mint, chamomile or other herbs -- or simple talking. "People want magic. . . . What they don't understand is that there is no magic. It's work," said de la Portilla, explaining that often a healer's most powerful skill is asking questions and helping clients talk about their problems. "The point is to get you to heal yourself." Or, as Bertha Valdez, a curandera in San Antonio, said: "All the problems are inside of our head, okay?" These days, some healers are even starting to adapt to new technologies. Some use cellphones for consultations. Alberto Salinas Jr., a healer in the South Texas town of Edinburg, now has a Web site and consults with clients by e-mail. "E-mails from people range from one or two sentences to one or two paragraphs to . . . 10 to 20 pages in some cases," Salinas said in an e-mail message. "I meditate in the spirit of the love of the Lord and Creator and the answers flow through my soul, heart, mind and spirit, all the way through my body and through my fingers onto the keyboard." But one thing about their profession hasn't changed: Because healers are supposed to be located through family connections or word of mouth, it is still considered bad form to advertise. People who do, often through ads in Spanish-language newspapers or appearances on talk radio, are often thought to be scam artists who promise healing but really just want to fleece their clients. In fact, the whole idea of a TV advertisement is still unusual enough that Mark Glazer, a professor of anthropology at the University of Texas-Pan American, thinks he has heard about the guy doing it 2,100 miles away in Boston. "I have heard of this television curandero " from students who saw the ad, Glazer said. "They think that he cannot be a real, a true, curandero ." So, then, to ask Hermano Santa Cruz himself. One of the addresses in his commercial is in Chelsea, a heavily Latino suburb of Boston. The Chelsea office turns out not to be an office at all but a ground-floor apartment decorated with Christmas ornaments and weavings of the Virgin Mary. The first time a reporter visited, he was ushered into a back bedroom, where a man wearing a white doctor's coat sat behind a small table. The healer said he was too busy to talk. He said he would call. He did not call. The next day, though, when a reporter called back, Hermano Santa Cruz said he had five minutes. Sitting behind the same table, with a deck of cards in front of him, he explained the kinds of things people sought him out for: problems at home, problems with children, "strong negative energies." He talked about the kinds of healing he offers: repetitions of Catholic prayers, and treatments using sunflowers and apples and white sugar. "There are people who believe" in these methods, said Hermano Santa Cruz, who said he is Colombian. "There are people who don't believe. It's like religion." And the most important question of all: Why is someone in his line of work advertising on television? To this healer, though, the apparent cardinal sin didn't seem to be a big deal. ¿Porque no? he asked. "Why not?" ================================ George Antunes, Political Science Dept University of Houston; Houston, TX 77204 Voice: 713-743-3923 Fax: 713-743-3927 antunes at uh dot edu Reply with a "Thank you" if you liked this post. _____________________________ MEDIANEWS mailing list [email protected] To unsubscribe send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
