The Power of Wet Ones.

My “professor” while here in Cuba belongs to the Santeria religion and he sent us to his Padrino (godfather) so we can have our shells read. Basically, Padrino (Padre as I call him) does this intricate ritual where he throws a handful of seashells Sally sold him on the seashore and he determines the future. Think Turkish coffee ground remains.

So I got my shellz on and the Gods told Padre that while in Cuba I have to be very suspicious of food. I must sniff, look at the color, and cautiously nibble everything I eat outside of my residence. Padre warned that perhaps I will be invited to a gathering of sorts where I will be served bad meat and inherit a parasite that I will need to be operated for while I’m here. At the same time, I should be equally cautious of street food. This makes sense considering I’m a frequent, valued customer at the local street food joints. The question is: don’t all travelers to developing countries take their magnifying glasses everywhere they eat? Imagine that.

Furthermore, Padre said I will be involved in a tug-a-war of sorts with a woman and her boyfriend. Love triangle? Eh, nah I don’t think so. Will I be involved with the gal or the guy is another question. I actually wanted to test Padre out by being on my best behavior and not limping the wrists.

Oh yeah, I also shouldn’t seat in the front of taxi cars for I will be involved in a bloody and terrible accident.

Padre didn’t really tell me anything positive. He did say my Santeria guardian angel is Obatala, king of kings who loves to don all white (even after labor day). In an effort to avoid loosing a limb or pooping my guts out I should bathe in water infused with cotton plant leaves four nights in a row. There I was last night, drunkenly cotton-fusing my water and bathing.

Our pal Megan was said to have negative vibes. In order to bring positive forces to her she needed to light a candle and offer three candies to her God. So right after she got her shellz on Padre lit the candle, offered the candies and waited for the candle to burn. All the way. There we were, all chillin’ at the Padre’s living room watching this candle burn.

It took about an hour and a half for the candle to burn a quarter of the way.

I can’t really say if I believe any of this, mostly because I don’t entertain the idea of religion anymore. My mother is a prime example of why I see religion as a crouching evil. I’m still going along with the rituals until I’m cleansed. Why not? It’s something spiritual and maybe it's about time I need to be pouring myself with cotton leaves. Unless I develop a rash, what harm can it do?