The Magic of Sorte

That’s me, with my back to the camera. I was only eight at the time.

I don’t even know where to begin, but I guess I should start by telling you about the time my mom went to Montaña de Sorte, in Yaracuy, Venezuela, with her two best friends. They had always been into weird, mystical stuff, and wanted to learn about Maria Lionza, so she visited the National Monument that is now the mountain where all the “magic” happens. Sorte is a strange place. It’s renowned around the world as a place where Santeria and witchcraft are practiced, as well as white and black magic. It’s a place unlike any other in my country. It’s sort of a state of its own, exempt from Venezuelan law, and ruled by the people that inhabit it, who are local witches and sorcerers who only let people in after consulting with their goddess, Maria Lionza.

She was an indigenous maid, daughter of the powerful Cacique of Nirgua, of the Nívar tribe. The shaman of the village had predicted that when a girl with blue-green eyes was born, she had to be sacrificed and offered to the Owner of Water, also known as the Great Anaconda, because if not, that would be the extinction of the Nívar Tribe. But her dad didn’t sacrifice her. Instead, he hid her in a cave in the mountain, along with 22 warriors to guard her and keep her from leaving. She wasn’t allowed to see her reflection on any body of water. But one day, a mysterious force lulled the guards, so she was able to escape and look at her reflection on the river. She was fascinated. From that water arose the Great Anaconda, absorbing her into him and forging a spiritual and mystical union. Her dad tried to separate them, but the Great Anaconda flooded the entire village in punishment and killed its people. From that day on, Maria Lionza became the protective goddess and mistress of the lagoons, rivers and waterfalls, protector of nature, wild animals, and queen of love.

So, back to the story about my mom and her friends. They visited Sorte as a way of immersing themselves into the culture of the place, and doing some research into what actually goes on there. What they found was more than they bargained for. At Sorte, sorcerers allow for spirits, demons and saints to take control of their bodies, creating a path of communication with humans. During these episodes, visitors usually receive blessings, revelations, and can request enchantments or curses for other people in their lives. My mom told me sorcerers drink one to three bottles of rum while they have the spirits inside of them, depending on who that spirit is. After their job is done, they go back to being themselves, even sobering up in a matter of seconds. Sorte is a village full of liquor, magic, candles, tobacco smoke, exorcists, and according to its inhabitants, plenty of saints and demons.

My mom told me she saw all kinds of things, some even too dark to say out loud. Screams and moans from people receiving spirits inside their bodies are heard all over. People swallowing glass and vomiting blood—with no physical repercussions afterwards—walk around town. The drums and chants rumble without a pause to push the Santeros into trance. Individuals with all sorts of illnesses are seen around the village looking for a cure within the mystical world. For believers, the energy at Sorte comes from the rivers, where everyone bathes, and from the earth, over which everyone walks barefoot.

Her experience was unique because she didn’t know she was pregnant with me at the time. She thinks that is what makes me different, and why I have green eyes and blonde hair while no one else in my family does. She thinks Maria Lionza is somewhere in me.

On her trip, the witches had my mom and her friends laid on the floor, along with around 20 other people, and they were showered with rice, corn, and smoke, for prosperity, supposedly. They were individually surrounded by fire, in the silhouettes of their bodies. The witches started singing their chants and villagers played the drums and other instruments in the background. A few people, including her—started shaking, twisting, and screaming—as they received the spirits. If I wasn’t what I am, I wouldn’t believe it. But I am living proof there is something going on, something that doesn’t come from this world we live in, something not even I can explain.

To this day, I have cured 85 people. I now live in a very small town, in a location I cannot disclose, because once word got out about my powers, my life became a nightmare. The photo was taken right before my mom decided to take me away. I don’t know if there are others like me out there, we could really do some good if we found each other. I hope I am not alone. Well, I know I am not alone. Maria Lionza is always with me.