Iwayu by Pedro Blas González	Table of Contents Part 1 appears in this issue.
conclusion

“It's hard to say but you are right that they are sacred to Santeros. There is a stone placed in every Yoruba temple. You see, the stone contains a benevolent spirit that is summoned forth by the believer during prayer. One is supposed to talk to the stone, or otherwise the spirit departs and only a stone remains. The stone is a center point where consciousness is focused. The stone is not Esu per se, but rather the accessible spirit of this deity that distributes universal justice.”

“Here is the other stone. It's pretty much like the other one that I showed you.”

“What did the man at the park tell you about the stone he gave you?” asked Arturo.

“He just said that I should have it and that I should place all of my anxieties at its disposition.”

“Bill, this whole situation really comes down to a vital feeling for the ineffable or numinous aspects of human existence. The problem is not to be solved or even understood with more detached scholarly study of religion. To be sincere, all of this study upon study of religions, theology and scriptures has nothing to do with belief. This is where we go wrong. Why don't we call the man that you met at the park. You said that he gave you his telephone number, didn't he? Ask him what this is all about.”

“We can, if you think that it will help. After all, these things are not new to me.”

Dr. Anderson and Arturo wasted no time in calling the Santero. The man instructed them to meet him the following evening right after sunset at the entrance to Central Park located on the corner of 59th and Fifth Avenue. He just said that he would recognize Dr. Anderson when he saw him.

The following night the sky was clear and the temperature was in the lower fifties. Dr. Anderson and Arturo sat on a bench as they watched people go by.

“Isn't it rather amazing, Arturo, how the world turns and turns regardless of the personal circumstances of any one of us? Look at all these people, each is a world of their own, that much I have come to believe.”

“You're right, and this is why belief is so personal. It helps with the very nature of the crevices in our lives.”

As Dr. Anderson spoke a black man wearing dark pants, a hat and a light coat came walking toward them. In his left hand he held a small light colored duffle bag. The man came right up to them and immediately introduced himself as Raphael Santos. “So how are you feeling, Dr. Anderson?” he asked.

“Well. Right now, very well,” he answered, rather nervous. “Mr. Santos, this is my very good friend Arturo de Ferran.”

“Yes. My pleasure to meet you, Arturo. You speak Spanish, don't you, Arturo?” he asked.

“Yes. Of course!”

“Good because I may need your help. My English is not very good sometimes,” he said sitting down next to Dr. Anderson. I want you both to know that what we need to do tonight in the park may look strange to outsiders, but I assure you that this is only out of not knowing. How do you say, Arturo... de ignorancia?” he asked

“Ignorance.”

“Sí, ignorance. I have to tell you also that what people like me do is a moral duty. We don't make a living out of this. I can't see someone in need and ignore their suffering. This is a calling... una vocación. Good souls must take care of other souls in need. And you, Dr. Anderson are suffering, mucho. Also, Dr. Anderson, you must not be afraid. I know that you know about these things yourself. But don’t forget... lo importante aquí es...”

“What is important,” Arturo interrupted.

“What is important here is that you learn to... how do you say, creer?”

“To believe.”

“Today, Dr. Anderson man does not believe. He says he does and sometimes he thinks he does, but he does not. El mundo hoy...” he went on to say in Spanish. “Esta controlado por el mal.”

“I understand,” Dr. Anderson said. “My Spanish is not too bad. I agree with you, Mr. Santos, that today the world is ruled by evil.”

“Dr. Anderson, you don't have to become a Santero, but you must learn to believe. The power for change in your life is within you. So, let's walk into the park and let us... begin our limpieza,” he said, looking at Arturo for help.

“He means... the cleansing.”

“Everyone in the world is affected by evil in a different way. You, Dr. Anderson have too many people that affect you through their... envidia... a very powerful emotion, you know. People must learn to cultivate their abilities. Envidia is a very strong kind of evil. For you, Dr. Anderson... .tonight we must build a strong power around you that will not allow this evil to affect you any more. Una resistencia... is what I want to say. Tell him, Arturo.”

“He wants to cleanse you of the evil that is affecting you and your family. He wants to build a kind of resistance... .to fend off envy.”

“Did you bring the first stone that I gave you in the park?” he asked.

“Yes. I have it here.”

“Okay. Let us walk into the park. There is a very quiet and discreet area close by where we can go to.”

“Usually, Dr. Anderson this process has to be done to the person alone,” he said, as they walked into the darkness of the park. “But your friend is a very honest and loyal man who wants to help you. You are very lucky.”

To their left, a man passed by riding a bicycle with a faint white light that was just enough to enable him to see several feet ahead. The weak, rear red light quickly disappeared into the darkness.

The three men walked down a grassy decline. Mr. Santos motioned them to walk under a loose chain link fence that lead toward a rock formation that was imbedded in a thickly wooded area. Once there, Mr. Santos opened his bag. He took out and lit a tall, white candle that was about twelve inches tall. Then he motioned Arturo to sit behind them on one of the rocks. Mr. Santos did not speak anymore. He merely motioned and pointed. He took Dr. Anderson and stood him in front of the candle. Going back to his bag, he brought out a small branch with droopy, drying leaves. Next he brought out sixteen white roses and a beaded necklace that he put on.

“Dr. Anderson, please give me your stone,” he started.

He began to rub the stone across Dr. Anderson's head, forehead and the back of his neck. He repeated this procedure sixteen times and as he did so he uttered the words:

Then placing the stone down on one of the surrounding boulders. He continued:

Neither Arturo nor Dr. Anderson said a word. The cool breeze blew the candle flame gently. In the distance an ambulance siren could be heard.

Then he began to say in Spanish: “Dr. Anderson, I place your soul in the presence of Babalawo, father of all mysteries. Babalawo please allow this gentle man to come to believe. He wants to believe. Babalawo please allow him to believe. Babalawo please make this gentle servant understand that there must be a felt unity between what this man says and what he thinks. Like dark shadows walking in the night, man too, walks lost upon Earth. Dr. Anderson I commend your spirit to Babaluaye, powerful Orisha of the transformative power of disease. There is no greater evil than the evil that masks itself as good. There is no greater evil than the evil that masks itself as good...”

He repeated this three times, each time while passing the branch of Ewe leaves over his entire body. Dr. Anderson looked on in quiet anticipation. The breeze blew steadily.

“The power of evil is like a great jokester who deceives through pretense for all things good. Let this Ebori eleda ritual of the cleansing of the head serve as a beginning for understanding and belief. Let the sixteen Orishas, the Odu that represent the sacred principles of the universe rule over this gentle servant. Dr. Anderson, you have been harmed by some people who do not even know this, such is the power of evil. Evil penetrates into the hearts of lesser souls and becomes part of them... such is the power of evil. Dr. Anderson, do you accept this ritual of the cleansing of the head as a transformation of your life?” Mr. Santos asked.

“Yes!” responded Dr. Anderson nervously.

“And do you accept this ritual of the cleansing of the soul from all of those evil terrestrial spirits that have done you wrong?”

“Yes!”

“Iboru iboya ibochiche,”

“Iboru iboya ibochiche,” he repeated three times, continuously passing the stone over his entire body. Knowledge is not enough, Dr. Anderson. You must also believe.”

“Iboru iboya ibochiche, may Ifa the Orisha of the oracle accept this ritual, he said, placing Dr. Anderson hand over his own heart.”

Throughout the ritual Dr. Anderson stood motionless, his arms by his side and his sight fixed on Mr. Santos.

“Dr. Anderson, you have placed too much attention on matters of the head and you have neglected those of the heart. What men say and what they do must be the same thing. Evil knows this and uses it to its advantage. Dr. Anderson the world is too cerebral today... few know how to feel. Evil, Dr. Anderson penetrates those spaces where feeling does not exist,” he continued, while placing his hand on Dr. Anderson's chest.

“Babaluaye, please help this gentle servant to regain his health now that no evil can hinder his Earthly existence. Dr. Anderson, from now on no evil will continue to hurt you. From now on you must learn not to ignore the connection between the head and the heart. It is for this reason that the Iwayu, which is the eye of character, is addressed here tonight. For this reason you must come to understand the relationship between IWAYU, ORI and OKAN; the head, the heart and the back of the neck are all areas that are vital to your health.

“You can now see your path clearly ahead Dr. Anderson. You have always had the ability to see, but you have not known how to consolidate this divine power. From now on you will know how to identify evil in the form of pretense. Evil in the form of pretense, Dr. Anderson is always manifested as bad will.

“But do not look for outer signs of this evil, as they are not easily detected. You must begin to feel this presence more than you will be able to verify it physically. But it is there. It is always there. Remember that not all souls are self-realized to the point that they can share in the joy of others.

“Remember too, that man in the flesh is no more than a partial soul that must search for its other half. This search is the process that we call life. From this moment on you are protected from such bad will, but you must learn to believe. Belief and only belief is our protection and salvation. Dr. Anderson, the world is not what most men think it to be. Human life, Dr. Anderson, is not a process that only witnesses a mechanical daily passage of time, but is instead a magical daily renewal.

“Tonight your life is renewed. There is no reason to continue to worry about your son Dr. Anderson. Your concern for him is the staple love of a father, but you must not continue to worry as you have lately. His luck is no longer afflicted by the same evil that has offended you.”

At that point Dr. Anderson reacted by bringing his hands together in a gesture as if to say something.

“Dr. Anderson, this ritual is now over,” Mr. Santos said motioning him to come forward. Arturo, too, came forth and embraced him. Mr. Santos began to place some of the items that he had brought with him back in the bag. He then handed Dr. Anderson a small plastic bag that contained some leaves.

“Take this home and boil these leaves into a tea and drink it. This Osanyin is a herbal preparation that will remove any evil that is persistent and capricious,” he said, handing him the small bag. “... And the stone that I brought to your door... take that one and allow it to clear you from evil every day of your life.”

The three men walked slowly through the park. The cool breeze was blowing from the northwest. Once they reached the entrance to the park they saw Mr. Santos off, who walked toward the nearest subway line.

“How do you feel about the whole thing?” Arturo asked, tentatively.

“Fine. I have no doubt that we often become tormented by spurious and mundane things. The source of this same torment is also what we receive from others.

“Good. Santos is right. I know from personal experience that belief is not that common today. Belief is a very difficult thing to uphold, Bill. The rigors of belief confuse and throw off those who merely seek convenience and expediency from belief of any kind. I must tell you that belief opens a path to sincerity and good will. It settles us and allows us to become enraptured by living itself. But if you look around that is not exactly what we see,” he said.

The two men crossed the street and sat on a concrete ledge across the Plaza Suite and watched people going about their daily routine.

“Want to go and have a drink?” Arturo asked.

“We can. It's still early.”

They went to a small restaurant several blocks away and sat at a corner table. The place was not crowded.

“Did you notice how self-assured Mr. Santos was? That is because his world is shielded from the grab-bag view of the world that most people have. This is more than just the power of suggestion. Bill, daily life can be magical. But to realize this takes imagination, and imagination is just what man is lacking today. He is a very contented man for a reason.”

“Well, there is certainly something to be said about a life of joy.”

“I often think of my father and the fresh look on life that he maintained right up to his death. In him, Bill, I can see this joy realized. From him I came to understand that our beliefs are only demonstrable by the way that we live our lives and not through idle talk. You see, Bill, the reason that I went into this field was because I was very intrigued by people's view of the world and their place in it. I wanted to know what constituted the life of most men.

“Early on I found out that people in my country did not so much concern themselves with external achievements as they did with living their lives. I remember going to the countryside and talking to people who had nothing and yet who were terribly content, but above all who were accepting of their destiny. This cannot be taught. In fact, I have seen examples of how it can be unlearned.”

The cool evening breeze that came in through the open front of the restaurant blew out a candle on their table. A group of three or four giggling young women sat at an adjacent table.

“Arturo, have you had these beliefs all your life?”

“Since the time that I was a child. As a child I made elaborate plans that would incorporate all of life's inconsistencies, I was certain. But throughout my late twenties I began to have a series of occurrences that really made me see through the veil of things. I became disillusioned and disenchanted as I think most people who keep the score, as they say, often do.

“Bill, belief is a vital form of knowledge that in many cases does not require justification. It wasn't until my late thirties that I realized that the plans that I had made as a child were flexible enough to incorporate all kinds of surprises. Only then did I realize that I had actually been in control all along. Self-autonomy, Bill, is what man ought to be most concerned with. Except that a true autonomy comes with the understanding that there are things that are out of our control. Those things we must learn to respect.”

“I agree. What is the point of learning to live when there is very little living left to do. Perhaps this is the lesson in this episode of my life?” added Dr. Anderson.

“Bill, about eight years ago I was in Santo Domingo with the whole family. One night as I was walking alone a deserted street I passed a heavy-set woman. As she approached me I noticed that she would not take her eyes off of me. She truly intrigued me so I took a few more steps and turned to my left with the pretense of looking into a grocery store window. First, I looked discreetly out of the corner of my eyes and then I turned around completely, but she was nowhere to be seen. Then, as I began to turn back and continue walking, there she was standing to my right looking into the same store window. I found this very odd, but I assumed that I had missed her as she stepped into some store. But as I proceeded to walk by her I got the strangest sensation, as I could clearly hear her talking to me but without words.”

“Was she speaking in Spanish?” asked Dr. Anderson.

“No. Not at all. I just heard her as I would my own thoughts. She said to take her hand.”

“But what did you do then? Did you continue walking?” Dr. Anderson asked, finishing off his second drink.

“I just did what she said. It was a reaction that I couldn't control.”

“What happened then?” Dr. Anderson pressed on.

“I found her hands to be very cold, as she clasped my hand between hers. But I was not afraid. I did not fear her. She held my hands for what seemed like a few minutes, but I can't be sure.”

“What occurred during all this time?”

“What happened then was that I began to see myself as a small child staring at a small hole in the side of the roof of my parent's house in Cuba where small bats made their home. I saw myself lying in bed looking into the darkness of the room and realizing the purpose of my life, just as I did then. Bill, my mind simply raced through a lot of the places where I had lived or visited. I saw the faces of many people whom I have known and who are now departed. But the most intriguing thing of all is that I could see the passage of time, my life, the meaning of things all compressed into some very intelligible form.”

“Could you see the future, your own death, maybe?

“Not my death... not exactly. I saw the world without me, if this makes any sense at all. But I... I saw you, Bill,” Arturo hesitated to say.

“Me?

“Yes, You. I really can't explain it,” he said, slowly telegraphing his drink unto his lips.

“Are you sure?”

“It was you. There is no doubt in my mind.”

“But, Arturo, eight years ago we had not yet met. I was teaching somewhere else.”

“I just couldn't bring myself to tell you. I didn't know how. But I know that it was you, Bill. I saw you as a man who was ill. Of course, this made no sense to me. I saw other things too that seemed equally irrelevant at the time.”

“What do you mean at the time? Are you saying that you have confirmed some other things that you saw? You mean you knew of my cancer? ”

“Yes, several others. I knew about your cancer but I couldn't confirm it until now. The important thing is that I knew what to do with these visions at the appropriate time. When you told me you had the man's telephone number, I knew then that I was responsible for helping you follow through with this.”

“So what became of the woman?”

“Well, as I said, I saw my life and its course. She then began to walk away in the opposite direction where I followed her with my sight until she turned left at the next corner.”

“And you were never scared throughout all of this? Did you ever see her again?”

“No. I think that it was later that night, back in the hotel as I told my wife that it all took hold of me. No, I never saw her again. But my memories of her are still very clear. I can easily see her in front of me whenever I think of her. Anyhow, should we go? It's getting colder.”

The two men walked toward the subway line where each took trains traveling in opposite directions. The northwesterly wind had now picked up and the temperature was noticeably colder.

The following evening Dr. Anderson's phone rang at 6:43 p.m. as he and Rosa were having dinner. Rosa answered. A few seconds later she returned.

“Bill, it's for you. A woman named Emma wants to speak with you.”

“Emma? I don't think I know anyone by that name,” he half mumbled, as he walked up to the telephone.

“Yes. Hello,” he said into the receiver.

“Sir, I am returning your call having to do with a phone message that you left last night for a Mr. Santos.”

“Oh, Mr. Santos, yes! Yes, yes. But I spoke with Mr. Santos himself last night. I didn't leave him a message. Is he there now? Can I speak to him?”

“No, sir. There is no Mr. Santos that lives here. I am Emma Jackson, Mr. and Mrs. Billingham's housekeeper. You left a detailed message for a Mr. Santos on our recording machine. I just want to know if perhaps you are not mistaken.”

“But Ms. I spoke with Mr. Santos himself last night,”

“Sir, I just want to know if this pertains to the Billingham's in any way. They are out of town. Again... I... there is no Mr. Santos here, sir,”

“No? But are you sure that this not Mr. Santos' number? Tell me Ms. what was the message?'

“You ask him about a meeting that you are going to have in a park and about your bad health. You mention that you will be bringing a friend along. This is a very strange message sir. You are constantly answering your own questions.”

“I don't know what to say... I...”

“Well, if this has nothing to do with the Billinghams then I won't bother them,” she interrupted.

“No. Of course.”

“Okay. Thank you, sir. I am sorry to have bothered you. Good night,” she said, as she hung up the telephone. Dr. Anderson placed the telephone down gently and went over to the shelf where he had placed the stone.

Copyright © 2005 by Pedro Blas González