If the appropriation of Catholic narratives, Spiritist techniques, and African deities has been recognized as constituting brujería, why then not recognize bureaucratic gestures and consumer goods as part of it as well? For brujería has redefined itself, co-opting the ethos of welfare capitalism and consumerism for its practices. Making consumerism speak to the spiritual realm, unwillingly transforming it into a kind of spiritualized materialism, brujería not only has become an active yet undeclared partner and broker of mainstream Puerto Rican society but also a local provider of tactics through which the desired self-images of high modernity could be materialized.

Among the general public, the laws and regulations governing eligibility for government housing, loans, technical education, and the like, are not always known to those who might be qualified. In their role of enlightening, guiding, and advising their clients in the spiritual realm, brujos also open clients’ eyes to the possibilities awaiting them in the bureaucratic system. Basi, for example, encouraged a poor widow to apply for public housing after the woman had expressed hopelessness about her future following the death of her husband. Basi helped her to acquire a home in one of the best public housing neighborhoods. Through the mediation of brujos, many young high school dropouts find their way to technical schools that are sponsored by the government and businesspeople. Unemployed men and women were able to take out loans in order to invest in small business ventures. All of this was done thanks to the interventions of brujos who wisely counseled clients to take advantage of public
assistance programs.

Contrary to the naturalist-environmentalist image constructed by Hajosy Benedetti, I noticed another side of Bolina’s practices. For instance, in one of our encounters Bolina proudly showed me a special gift she had received froma foreign journalist and which she incorporated in her divining process. It was a battery-operated Disney-type ‘‘wizard’’ that barked random omens in English. Apparently Hajosy Benedetti excluded this wizard from her book because it was not natural. However, it had a very personal significance for Bolina.When I asked her why she used the mechanical wizard in the divination process, she explained that she saw it as a message: ‘‘No existe la casualidad, existe sólo la causalidad’’ (There is no coincidence, there is only causality). Indeed, the incorporation of new, often foreign elements in the practices of Puerto Rican brujos is an essential part of their enterprise, provided it has a spiritual rationale.

I’m in the altar of Haydée, who lives in a small town on the outskirts of San Juan. It is the first time I have ever entered her altar. She shows me around, pointing out and explaining, shelf by shelf, the various ritual objects and their significance, her way, I sense, of introducing herself and her trade to me: "My rosary is the one of San Judas Tadeo, that one over there is San Aparicio el Beato, he helps find lost things; this is Papá Candelo—this saint deals with the dead, he’s a palero. With his help, if you put your enemies in the cauldron he makes them disappear, but you have to do it outside the altar. Here is the Mano Poderosa; a santera [one who is initiated in Santería] gave it to me after I helped her with a magic work. She came to me although I told her I don’t deal with Santería. She came to me because a doctor cannot cure herself. After she saw the results of my magic, on a Mother’s Day she brought me the Mano Poderosa. Outside, in the niche, I have the Milagrosa, and these two are the Marta la Dominadora; they help dominate your enemies. That one is the Madama, she’s a coquette like me. Then, the Buddha for good luck, San Lázaro, El Niño de Atocha, and this is my Papá Dios. On this side is La Virgen del Perpetuo Socorro, La Virgen Guadalupana [the Virgin of Guadalupe]. I found this one in a well—she is the saint of theMexicans. This is the Cross, the one Papá Dios was nailed on"

But sacrifice of the flesh does not mean asceticism. Modern brujos fancy sassy clothes, glamorous jewels, flashy cars, and the latest technological gadgets. Outwardly these commodities mark their affluence, which also indexes their spiritual prosperity. Their altares must reflect prosperity as well. In contrast to the consumption of banal objects, having their altar well equipped with several santos, crowned with expensive charms and amulets, is necessary to show where their true loyalties lie. Thus, even if they have to forgo their basic needs—use up savings or take out a loan, for example—they will buy the most lavish ritual objects. Personal sacrifice is an indispensable investment in the realm of spiritual power.

In 1993 the sensationalist newspaper El Vocero told of a complaint filed at the labor organization Junta de Apelaciones del Sistema de Administración de Personal by Maritza Rivera Flores, an administrative secretary of the municipality of Patilla, accusing the mayor, Pilar Rodríguez Rivera, of ‘‘discrimination’’ in the workplace. The allegations of discrimination were framed by her lawyer as violating civil rights and the existing laws against religious discrimination in the workplace. The mayor had fired Maritza, the lawyer had claimed, as a punishment for not complying with her ‘‘spiritual’’ demands. Because Maritza was a churchgoing Catholic and did not believe in spirits, she had refused to follow the instructions given by the mayor to all the employees to have their desks ‘‘cleansed’’ of bad spirits every day and to participate on Saturdays in séances and collective ritual cleansing organized by the mayor

Some botánicas on busy commercial streets also sell gifts, novelties, and jewelry, which can be used or not as religious offerings. Some of the jewelry is embellished with religious or esoteric symbols, such as a popular ring with the head of the Indio, or imbued with religious meaning, like the Afro-Cuban collares (colored bead necklaces, each color representing the power, or ashé, of a particular orisha). Talismans of different shapes and made of semiprecious stones can just as readily be marketed simply as unusual trinkets to be hung on necklaces and bracelets. For instance, the same doll or stuffed animal might be purchased as a birthday or an anniversary gift and also as an offering to Eleggua, the orisha of the crossroads that manifests itself part of the time as a trickster or child that devours sweets and likes dolls. Following what seem to be smart business practices, these botánicas—while catering primarily to religious practitioners—also attract clients looking
merely for gifts.