A Jungle Pilgrimage to the Cacao Shaman, Abuelo Marcelino

Tales from the Heart of Talamanca

The other day, I went up into the Talamanca mountains with my daughter Eve, dear friend Vici, Nikita—a Frenchwoman from Martinique—and Max, a young man from Costa Rica.

Vici, a spiritual soul from Australia, is who conducts the Crystal Sound Bath Healing sessions with our herd and leads beach treks with her horses. I had just met Nikita and Max. Max, partly Bribri but raised in Alajuela, studies under the person we were about to meet in the Talamancan jungle mountains.

I was helping Vici deliver hay to two of her horses that she'd left in the mountains, at the home of our host-to-be. Since her car was having mechanical issues, I offered to use our car for the trip.

We were going to meet Abuelo, also known as Abuelito, meaning "Grandpa" in Spanish. But he is no regular grandpa; he is a wisdom keeper of ancient knowledge. He is known as the Cacao Shaman, just like his father and mother before him, and his grandfather and grandmother before them, in a long ancestral line of wisdom keepers of the Indigenous tribe of Bribri.

Over the years, I've encountered other spiritual figures from these mountains—including an incredibly powerful elder named Doña Matilda, a shaman and healer. I've also had the honor of meeting with the Council of Elders, or Consejo de Ancianos.

Doña Matilda used her home deep in the mountains as a layover for women, children, and older people who lived deep within the mountain range of Talamanca and would walk for days to see a doctor, get medicine, or food when needed. It was a difficult journey, walking through mud and rivers, mountain tops, and it could be very tiring for small children, old people, or the sick. Doña Matilda offered them a roof and filled their bellies from her wooden stove. But she had little means of her own, so a dear and true friend of mine, Leda, and I offered to help her. Leda is from here, and she carries the bloodlines of Bribri mixed with the Afro-Descendants of the Caribbean coast, Chinese, Spanish, and white European, like so many in this beautiful country. We called our little organization "Mothers of The Earth" and went on to give classes in local schools on organic farming in your backyard. But back to Doña Matilda. She desperately needed things to help these traveling people, and so we brought mattresses, blankets (it's cold deep in the jungle), bags of rice and beans, salt—anything that would help her provide them with food and bedding while they stayed with her to recuperate before continuing on their journey. Doña Matilda was an old woman who had little herself but shared everything she had and more with all others who came her way.

Doña Matilda and dear friend Leda.

A while ago, I was invited, along with my daughter Lexi and a few friends, to meet with the Council of Elders to mutually help one another. The Council faced a serious predicament—they were being mistreated and, I'd venture to say, exploited by others. We, too, had our own issue: a large area of land in dispute, for which we sought their guidance on border matters.

Now, the Council of Elders is made up of women. In the tradition of the Bribri Indigenous people, it is the women who decide and take care of important matters. Inheritance is passed through the female bloodlines, which makes total sense when you think of it. The women carry the children; you always know who the mother is. Women are highly respected and honored in Keköldi tradition.

The Council of Elders consists primarily of elderly women, with a few younger members. They exuded kindness, humility, truthfulness, and honesty. Lying and asking for favors are foreign concepts to them. From our perspective, they lived simply and in close harmony with Mother Earth. These beautiful souls, gentle and generous in nature, left me feeling touched by Grace in their presence.

So, back to our story: we were off to visit Abuelo and give some hay to Vici's horses.

We drove about 45 minutes, then left the car on the side of the dirt road and followed a little path, by foot, up the jungle mountain. It was narrow, and sometimes you walked across wooden logs over creeks. Though surrounded by dense jungle, there were also a lot of banana and cacao trees growing. We were lucky it wasn't raining, as otherwise, it would have been a very slippery walk up that hill.

Coming to the top, Vici called out a few sounds to announce our arrival to Abuelo. I must tell you here that Vici had met Abuelo many months ago, and they had become close friends. He was teaching her the traditional Cacao ceremony of the Bribri, and she, in turn, was helping him in any way she could think of. Abuelo had a mission, and that was that his knowledge not be lost, so he had begun to share his knowledge with others by giving Cacao ceremonies and having volunteers stay with him, which in turn would help him to cultivate the cacao and to build some buildings and huts that are needed.

As we approached the clearing, a little black dog popped out and literally started talking to us. Not like a normal dog who barks, but somewhere between a monkey, a coyote, and a human. Turning the last corner was a very beautiful, prominent conical hut with leaves that covered the tip of the cone of the roof, until the bottom of the ground. This is a very special traditional hut for healing and can only be entered after being invited and cleansed. We passed in front of the entrance; I couldn't see anything—it was black inside except for the soft glowing of a fire in the center.

As we passed this hut, you could feel the energy emanating from it. It was an energy I had never felt before. It was a very old energy, deep, mysterious, and wise. On the other side, sitting in a hammock with a big long stick at his side, was an old man with a big smile and sparkling eyes that crinkled. He stood up and greeted each of us individually, then offered us a seat on his wooden benches. It was a simple shelter, with wooden posts, a plastic sheet for a roof, handmade wooden tables, and stumps. Nearby, I could see the foundations for a wooden house and another floor foundation for another future cabin. Near the shelter where we were in was a cabin with a leaf roof, just like the Ceremonial Healing Hut; inside, a wooden fire burned and was used for cooking food.

Abuelo Marcelino.

We sat outside introducing ourselves, and then Abuelo began to tell us stories of Mother Earth and why roosters were brought down to humans to wake us up by Sibö (God spirit). He was telling us this story because Vici, who had spent several nights there sleeping during her apprenticeship with Abuelo, had said she couldn't sleep because of the rooster waking her up at 3 am, and so Abuelo told us why. In the beginnings of time, the world was dark; there was no light. Sibö wanted to populate the world with humans, but it was very, very dark. He knew the humans would be scared and maybe would sleep and never wake up. So he made roosters and sent them to call in the morning and the light and awaken the humans so that they could live in light.

It was a good story. We shared other stories together, and he taught Eve some words in Bribri, like "Muao muao" which means "thank you".

As Abuelo talked and laughed, he held this tall wooden stick that was shiny from years of handling, always near to him. You could see it was part of him now; when he spoke, when he moved, it was as if the stick was talking too. He told us the story of this stick. In the traditional learning of Cacao, it takes 12 years for all the knowledge to be transmitted and assimilated; it is only done by word of mouth—nothing is written down. He learned this from his grandparents and his parents; he spent every day learning and working in the jungle. After 12 years, he received the stick. I think we would call it a wand because it definitely has magical powers. No one else is allowed to touch it. And if you ever go there, I highly recommend that you don't. In fact, Nikita had touched it on a previous visit, and something happened that Abuelo now had to do a cleansing on her. We then also got a little cleansing inside the Ceremonial hut.

Abuelo invited us into the Ceremonial hut. When I first walked inside, it was pitch black, and I could hardly see where I was going, but then I saw the red glow of the fire in the center, with logs gently burning. As my eyes adjusted, I could see there were hammocks on the edges of the hut and many ceremonial items placed near the fire. Abuelo then went to each of us holding a calabaza shell (a gourd shell) filled with tobacco, herbs, and resin. A dark smoke emanated from the bowl, and he used a stick put together with many feathers of all different colors, then blew the smoke all over us and brushed us with the feathers all over our bodies. I'd never been smudged quite this way, and I have smudged and been smudged a good many times. Again, I must say it was such a different energy I was picking up—a very earthly energy. You could feel the intenseness of Mother Earth; it felt powerful yet nurturing at the same time. Nothing frightening, but you could feel the power, as if it was coming up through your feet and filling your body.

Abuelo explained about the Cacao ceremonies held here and what his project was to be able to share this experience of the healing power of Cacao and the wisdom of his people with others. Vici was helping him, and I felt very honored being there in his presence.

Before we left, he had brewed us a coffee from his wooden stove; it was thick, smoky, and sweet. It was cooked in the cabin with the leaf roof, and when we walked inside, a little parrot was flying around, eating food from Abuelo's hands and looking at us. The leaves that hung from the roof were black and heavy from the fumes of the wooden fire. Bowls of pejibaye were on a table; these are a local fruit that tastes like a sweet potato with a slight sharp cheese taste and comes from a spiky palm tree.

As we said goodbye and made our way down the jungle path, I knew I had been in the presence of an authentic Bribri Shaman, a healer, a keeper of the Wisdom, who lived honoring the tradition of Cacao and his ancestors.

If Cacao calls to your heart and you're eager to immerse yourself in its rich traditions, Kindred Spirits will be hosting Ceremonial Cacao Trainings led by Vici, where we will be visiting Abuelo Marcelino and further his cause of teaching the ways of his ancestors. This experience will allow you to connect with the ancient practice, and feel its heart-opening properties run through your spirit.

We are honored to share this journey with you, right here in the Caribbean, where cacao has been cherished for generations. From childhood memories of opening cacao fruit to the ancient rituals of creating chocolate, this is made to be more than just a training—it’s a return to the roots of love, nature, and tradition.

Let the heart expanding magic of Cacao guide you.

Namaste,

Terry.

>> LEARN MORE about Ceremonial Cacao Teacher Training with Vici and Abuelo Marcelino

Cacao fruit