Since my first day at the Casa, I have been amazed by the diversity of people in attendance—not just the diversity in demographics, but also the unique story each individual brings along with them to the Casa. Through my conversations with the people here, I became particularly interested in hearing about their reasons for coming to Abadiania as well as their perceptions of modern medicine.

My initial interest in asking these questions came from my experience at the three-hour meditation session. Before the session began, I engaged in a brief conversation with a German couple seated next to me in the current room. After finding out where they were from, I asked what brought them to the Casa. Without hesitation, the woman replied, “Our doctor in Germany told us to come.” I was immediately taken by surprise. A physician from a modern, industrialized society willingly instructed these individuals to seek healing here? Unfortunately, the meditation session commenced soon after and I couldn’t ask any more questions. But that conversation sparked a curious thought in my mind: the Casa clearly had something to offer these people even from the perspective of biomedicine.

In conversations with other people in the days following the meditation session, I came to learn that there were a variety of reasons and perceptions of biomedicine that motivated people’s journeys to the Casa. One afternoon at the sacred soup, I spoke with an elderly Brazilian woman named Elena, who had also come to see John of God by recommendation from her physician in Sao Paolo. She told me that while her physician was supportive of Spiritist healing, he cautioned her to not rely exclusively on spiritual healing to treat her condition. Elena’s story contrasts with that of another individual with whom I spoke that same afternoon. This man, named Marco, was also a Brazilian who had come to the Casa to treat a medical condition. (Did he, in fact, define this as a medical condition or a spiritual condition?) Unlike Elena, however, Marco never sought help from a physician and placed his faith entirely on spiritual healing to treat his illness. Biomedicine, according to Marco, could only temporarily treat his farsightedness; in the long run, his vision would worsen unless treated by spiritual means. He had thus come to the Casa in search of a permanent solution.

Thus far, I have come to experience the unique relationships individuals have with modern medicine. As I learned from my conversations, these relationships often times inform the reasons patients have for coming to the Casa and inevitably help define the boundaries of Spiritism as a healing modality in our world today.

By Adwight Risbud

The treatment room with pictures of the Medium and the treating spirit doctors in Valentim’s center.

Some of my most powerful revelations from this trip have been  a direct result of not understanding the language that surrounds me. As someone who speaks both French and Spanish, I recognize that it’s much easier for me to figure out what’s being said and what to say than it is for most American students, but even so, my language-based confusion here has taught me a lot.

For starters, being in a foreign country where you can only say and understand “goodbye,” “pineapple,” and “is everything good?” is a great lesson in humility and empathy. I never understood how challenging and frustrating it is to have to order the food you’re not allergic to or figure out where to find potable water when you can’t speak the language of the country. In fact, I’m even realizing how hard it is to not be rude in a country where strangers are so friendly–but in a language you don’t know. A lot of strangers here strike up conversations with me, and once I manage to tell them I don’t speak Portuguese (which I’ve now learned to do in 2 seconds or less) continue excitedly conversing in Portuguese–usually, I’m assuming, to figure out where I’m from, why I’m here, what I think of Brazil, and so forth. And to my absolute surprise, no matter how much obvious confusion covers my face, or how many Spanglish words I frantically string together, these strangers keep on talking to me in Portuguese, until I have to abruptly end the engagement and simply walk away, because it just doesn’t seem to click that I genuinely will not understand the new words they throw at me either, no matter how long I stand before the barrage of Portuguese words. I have a better understanding now of how hard it must be for non-English speakers to engage as courteously, honestly, and productively as they hope to in the U.S.

The other unexpected lesson I’m learning here is that when you are unable to understand WHAT people are saying, you have the rare opportunity to focus fully on how, when, and why people are saying whatever it is they are saying. What’s more, as all the Portuguese speakers listen to WHAT is being said, you have the time to explore the images, fonts, colors, sounds, and smells around you, enabling you to access a much more fulfilling awareness of your surroundings.

John of God’s Casa de Dom Inacio is all about energy–John of God himself performs energy healing. Interestingly, I started to become more aware of energies before we even came to Abadiania, as I was forced to in the absence of language comprehension. Last week, we visited Valentim, a Spiritist healer who treats locals for free in a rural town outside of Brasilia. I spent a couple of hours observing men enter the cancer ward, chat, and wait patiently for the healing rituals to begin. I wanted to know if the men knew each other, hoping I could glean this information by overhearing some conversations. Since I couldn’t understand them, I instead tuned into their facial expressions, their hand gestures, the looks in their eyes, and I learned far more than I thought I could: about their physical well being, their beliefs, their hope, and their past encounters. My confusion has proven to be a hugely eye opening opportunity.

By Lorelei Christie

Red, purple-painted or discolored yellow nails were the only colors to differentiate people at the Casa. Individuals from all over the world come together dressed in white to present themselves to the Entity. The Casa of John of God (JOG) is more than a place of healing; it is a community.

As we drove into Abadiania late Tuesday afternoon, I was struck by the breathtaking views of green rolling hills. Our hotel, Hotel Amazonas, is located a few houses down from the Casa, a local juice bar, crystal shops, and places to buy JOG’s blessed water.   At the first glance, the Casa is the heart of Abadiania and dominates every business.

Classmates’ first day in Brazil,
author is far left, Marika

My immediate expectations of the Casa were completely different than I imagined.  The movies portrayed a more enclosed hospital. I imagined it being claustrophobic in tight headquarters and the smell of sick patients. Instead, all eight of us entered into a world of fresh air, self-exploration and hope. The ambiance and the energy of the gorgeous wooden benches for meditating overlooking the hills really surprised me. No wonder people are healed.

At exactly 5 pm, Diego (a head guide at the Casa) led our first orientation about the “house of love.” John of God does not like to be referred to as a healer, magician or miracle man, instead simply as a medium. Diego described how even though JOG can be taken over by five spirits separately while walking across the yard, he is still very high functioning with “running a business, driving a car and having a family.” I was surprised how much he stressed how well JOG ran his business, did he mean the business of healing or a separate business?  If he meant the “business” of the Casa it makes me skeptical of his motives in healing.

Diego continued: “Everything is energy and the Entities (spirits) evoke what’s necessary for you.” It seemed as if every question that was asked was explained by saying that the Entities “will guide you,” they don’t explain it. The Entities even chose the way the Casa is run. To me, giving up the power to an intangible source felt like a “cop-out” to not answer questions.

The next morning we got to the Casa at 7:15 am ready and anxious for the day. Our three wishes for the Entities were translated and we waited with the masses while reciting prayers, listening to hypnotizing voices and witnessing physical surgeries without anesthetic. About two hours later, we eagerly found ourselves in the first-timer’s line as if we were waiting in line for Santa (as Cash Peters says). I felt nerves in my stomach so I asked Makenna to go ahead of me so I would not be first in line. And of course, as Peters said, JOG did not give us the time of day. After studying JOG for weeks and flying twelve hours to see him, not including the various bus rides, he gave me a blank stare for less than two seconds before shooing my nervous grin into the next room.  We had our “sacred soup” (vegetable) and that concluded the morning.

All eight of us were prescribed medications for our first time. How could different spirits coincidentally prescribe the same thing eight times in a row? What are the chances? The prescriptions were all the same herb and taken out of large bins but given with “different energy” to each patient.  The woman put the pill bottles on the counter before I even walked up… how do the spirits know which energy to give to me?? Placebo? Diego said that there were negative side effects for someone who shared their friend’s herbs. He also commented that the Casa changed their pill bottles to save plastic. Who knew that Spirits prioritized environmental issues?

By:  Marika Stanford-Moore

On the car ride on route to see Valentim, many things crossed my mind on what to expect from the experience. Originally, I was under the impression that the healing center was going to be small. I was surprised to see the significant amount of people waiting in line to see this healer. As our group approached the line to inquire on where to go, I noticed that the man we spoke to had what seemed to be a tumorous growth on the left side of his face. I must admit, I was put off by this site initially and became nervous at what was to await me inside the center. Since I don’t do well with sickness, I told myself that this exposure to the sick was part of my own healing process in Brazil. I kept reminding myself on why I came in the first place, which is to face my fears about illness and to surrender to the fact that I’m not in control of anything.

As we entered the center, we were escorted into a room reminiscent of a waiting room at a low cost clinic. The volunteers were dressed in white doctor’s coats and instructed us to sit on the hospital beds that lined the parameters of the room. As soon as I sat down, my fears dissipated as I focused on all the elements of the room. I was strangely fixated on a particular drawing that was framed and placed across the room on a shelf, which later I was informed that it was one of the entities. There was something about the eyes that drew me in and gave me a strange comfort that I cannot explain. The Ave Maria in the background added such a strong sense of sacredness to the room as the people who were seated, contemplated their thoughts.

Valentim with the Author, Luli

After one of the volunteers charismatically spoke about the philosophy and effectiveness of the center, Valentim finally walked into the room. I was surprised at the humble nature of this man who seemed to be more personable than other healers, such as John of God. When Valentim became incorporated with the spirit, he walked into a treatment room. Eventually, our group was escorted to this special room where we were instructed to lie down. At this point, I was very curious to see what Valentim would say to me. When he and his entourage of volunteers walked over to me, I put my hands on my stomach and he quickly lifted my shirt. He pressed firmly on my stomach and informed me that I suffered from gastritis because of a nervous stomach (which I do). I could not help but be surprised and yet skeptical at this diagnoses. Perhaps placing my hands on my stomach was a dead giveaway? In any case, Valentim must have liked my energy because for the remainder of the visit he requested that I sit next to him and watch him heal others.  Valentim has a very playful spirit as he heals.  He jokes, slaps bellys and pokes his forceps over the patient’s body.  He even healed a little girl’s stuffed dog with his forceps after he healed the child.

I was surprised at the many ailments that were presented that day. Infertility, back problems, and stomach problems were some of the issues that I observed. However, the most interesting case was a women who was allegedly possessed. Valentim, who would constantly whisper in my ear, informed me that she had a negative spirit “taking her memory.” Suddenly, he grabbed her pinky finger and she started to shake and convulse sporadically. I noticed that she tried pulling away while Valentim firmly gripped her finger more tightly. He command the spirit to stop (“para!”) and she somewhat regained her composure. However, minutes later she was being attacked again and this time Valentim was more aggressive and loud, commanding the spirit to stop and leave her body. My rational mind quickly wanted to dismiss this as someone who yearned for attention. However, I also wondered: Why would she make this up? Is this part of the cultural expectation of how a possessed person behaves? Is she just providing confirmation by acting this out? Is memory loss linked with obsession? I thought about the Spiritualist Center in Hollywood and what the medium said about staying vigilant. The mind is an easy target for spirit possession. As I continue this journey of understanding Spiritism, I realize that this system is not only part of Brazilian culture, it is also a coping mechanism that invokes hope. Without hope, despair destroys both the physical and spiritual self.

By Lourdes Garcia

The capital of Brazil moved from Rio to Brasilia in 1960.  The buildings in the heart of the city were designed by Oscar Niemeyer, Brazil’s most famous architect. He died only a few years ago at age 105.   Poured concrete, curved lines, and buildings floating above water mark part of his style.  His modern architecture has become the identity of the capital.

Our trip began with a guided tour (in French) of Palacio Itamarati, the place where foreign dignitaries are entertained.   The ground floor is a large, almost bare meeting hall with a Brazilian garden and a free standing spiral staircase leading to the second and third floors.   Much of the palace collection appeared to be randomly placed, and the Palacio lacked overall artistic cohesion, although individual art pieces were beautiful.  Rugs dated to the seventeenth century covered much of the third level of the structure.  There were also tableaus, statues, furniture, and modern art pieces arranged throughout the building. The massive garden on the first floor was most unique. It somehow managed to look contained and overgrown at the same time. Perhaps it was because of the numerous hanging vines, but the wild garden inside was an interesting contrast to the formal federal building.

The following day we toured the Congresso Nacional, another one of Niemeyer’s designs. From the exterior, the building is extremely interesting with the half sphere shapes—placed directly above the two chambers (Senate and Congress)— and the rectangular office towers.  The white Carrera marble contrasted with the blue sky but I felt that it was quite bland in color and texture.  Once inside, the structure was much larger than it had originally appeared and contained a vast underground tunnel system for official use.  During our tour, the guide showed us the various rooms where federal representatives held meetings, worked regularly, and even took coffee breaks. It was an amazing perspective. From an American standpoint, the most thought-provoking items in the entire building were the two crucifixes hanging above each legislative chamber even though Brazil is a secular state.   The placement of religious articles in governmental buildings is most likely accepted because the majority of the Brazilians are Christians.   In contrast, the United States has tremendous religious diversity, if this were to occur within the United States, there would be an uproar by the citizens.

Later that day, we viewed the exterior of the Cathedral Metropolitana and National Art Museum. Oscar Niemeyer’s architectural style truly shines through all of his works. The Cathedral artistically mirrors an upside down chalice—referencing the beliefs it holds within it.  The Museum exterior reflects Saturn with its large ring. Both structures display Niemeyer’s admiration for poured concrete.

By: Makenna Cortney