DOMINICAN REPUBLIC AND SUPERSTITIONS
As any Caribbean person will tell you, many of our cultures are riddled with magic and superstition. I was born in the Dominican Republic, and right from the beginning my life was riddled with superstition and ritual. My family believed that one of the best ways to get a baby to stop crying was coating a piece of string in the mother’s saliva and placing it in the space between the eyebrows. Although for many ideas and practices such as that are absurd, but to my family it was normal and bled into every aspect of my upbringing.
For starters, I was a very sick baby, which of course gave my parents room to try more unconventional healing methods. One of my many afflictions caused me to wheeze and hyperventilate. Apparently, this was very common in my family and there was a ritual that could be performed by my paternal grandfather that could cure me. So, on the night of a full moon, my parents and I made the trek into the jungle with my grandfather. It was storming, and rain lashed at their heads but there was no other time when this could be done. When they finally arrived at the base of a tree deep in the tropical jungle, my grandfather cut a strand of hair from the crown of my head. He placed the hair into the trunk of the tree and then proceeded to pray with my parents. After they finished, my grandfather told my parents that I would no longer be afflicted by this as long as a stayed far away from the tree where the ritual took place.
Although I cannot be sure if the ritual was truly effective, I can proudly say I’ve never suffered from any lung-related issues. In fact, I went on to become co-captain of my high school’s cross country team and was never held back by my ability to breathe. As I continued growing up small superstitions became a part of everyday life. Particularly ideas about good and back luck. There was the common seven years of bad luck if a black cat crossed your path. As well as others that were simply littered in conversation. If you were making plans to see someone soon, or about to embark on some outting or trip, you must finish by saying “si Dios quiere,” or God willing, to ensure that nothing bad happened to you.
My late grandmother was from a more remote village and tended to have more outrageous practices. When I was going through puberty she made me sit with raw chicken meat under my armpits for hours because she claimed it cure me of body odor when I was older. She also asserted that if you were ever doing something involving a lot of heat (like ironing or cooking) you shouldn’t immediately do something involving the cold (like opening the fridge) because your hands could potentially become “pasmado,” or go into shock. I was also not allowed to go outside, or sleep with an open window or air conditioner on when my hair was wet because I would get “gripe,” a cold. Ultimately, as insane as many of these practices sound, to me they were a comfort and a way of getting to know the island I never got the chance to grow up on.