Exploring Daime & Pregnancy

Friday morning, we went out to the home of Raimunda (hi-munda) and Jose (jo-ze). They are a young couple who have a three-month-old son, Lucas. Jose is a pilot and Raimunda is a teacher. They belong to a splinter church that is literally a street away from the Dona’s church (see 9/19 post). This sect splintered off during the 1980s when the Dona started to take control of the church.

Jose picked us up in his car that resembled a Volkswagen Thing--a square, tin box. It had that familiar Volkswagen smell about it, large bench seat in the back with no seatbelts. Seatbelt laws in Brazil or at least Rio Branco are lax. No one uses car seats for kids, they are generally held in the lap, usually in the backseat. We motored along the highway out toward their home, which is on the outskirts of the main town. We turned right onto a dirt, heavily riveted road. I tried to hold onto both kids, while keeping my eyes fixed on the road ahead of us to keep from getting car sick. We rocked back-n-forth through the rough terrain, at one point, I felt as though we were sideways, teetering on two wheels.

Finally, we arrived at their home. A nice place, large in fact, with an open veranda that wrapped the entire house. We walked through the car port into the back area which was floored with beautiful Amazonian wood, rich hues of dark browns. The back porch was equipped with a bathroom, dining area, stove, sink and sitting area. The secratario was making a lunch of fried fish, rice, beans, meatballs, salad, and fardho (ground up manioc root fried up with bacon and butter, usually people dip a bite of meat in it). The smells were mixed with fish and vegetation from the open jungle area that their house butts up against. I periodically looked for monkeys, to no avail.

The sitting area was built of five hardwood chairs facing each other around a coffee table. A rede or hammock swung in the background, which was good because Maddie was due for her morning nap and will only sleep in a rede (she‘s a jungle baby in so many ways).

We sat and talked awhile and at first lull, I asked Raimunda if she had taken Daime during her pregnancy. She said she had, but followed the regiment that the founding Mestre advised. I immediately envisioned an old hand-written document discussing how pregnant women should use Daime, my excitement could hardly be contained. A tangible morsel of field data!

What little understanding I have accumulated is that a smaller amount of the tea is given because the woman is more “open to the divine realm” while pregnant. I went on to ask Raimunda , “Did you tell your doctor about drinking Daime?” She said no, that she only spoke with her Mestre at the church. To me , implicit in her decision not to tell her physician are so many issues--for instance; the status of the doctor/patient relationship. The muted patient voice in fear of social retribution. How exactly is Daime construed by the public and medical establishment in Rio Branco? Could taking Daime during pregnancy be seen as negligent and abusive to her baby?

There is so much here for me to study, and just as I feel confident in my language skills we are about to leave. I guess I’ll have to go back for that PhD to get the opportunity to follow-up on these themes. But I’m here now, and I planning on speaking with Raimunda‘s Mestre. More to come…