I Don't Practice Santeria

I heard of Santeria the way most people have; via the Sublime song. It wasn't until I met some self-proclaimed "cholos" in East LA that I got the dirty details. Old-school chicken sacrifices abound in some parts of Mexico, and the business of curse-giving and curse-lifting makes for some serious double agents in the Santeria hierarchy. They made it seem like a phenomenon in Mexico only. But the other night, on a darkened block in downtown LA, this lady was hawking the Santeria goods.

I enjoyed the irony of her selling Jesus and the Grim Reaper in the same window display. However, I didn't enjoy the smell of rotten eggs coming from the storefront. Someone more superstitious might say she emitted that smell to keep me and my skepticism away. I say that if Santeria really worked, homegirl would be successful enough to afford some air fresheners.

Downtown Los Angeles

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