Tag Archives: medicine

Angayapudi Powder

Nationality: Indian
Age: 18
Occupation: Engineering Major
Residence: Seattle, Washington
Language: English

Informant: “Whenever I’m sick, my mom will mix this powder with rice, and it’s supposed to make your stomach stop hurting. It’s a black powder that doesn’t taste all that good. I’m trying to think of why it helps, but I’m pretty sure that when I asked, she would say to just trust her. It’s a bunch of herbs that are dried and ground with hot rice. It has turmeric, dried ginger, dried cilantro, dried cumin, and dried pepper. They are all Ayurvedic medicines, which is something from my moms culture. I would mainly have it when I was little, and it’s been a long time since she gave me any.”

Me: “Did it actually help?”

Informant: “Definitely! I guess it might’ve just been a placebo effect, but a lot of people believe in this stuff, so there’s probably some truth to it.”

Context: The informant recalls a form of folk medicine that her mom would give her when she was sick as a kid. She seems to believe in its effectiveness, although not wholeheartedly, and connected the medicine to Ayurvedic medicines, which are traditional, holistic indian medicines that have been around for centuries. Although the informant no longer uses the powder, they seemed to remember it positively.

Analysis: This seems to be the informant’s mother’s recipe for an age-old traditional medicinal system that focuses on natural solutions. Ayurvedic medicines are common in India, so much so that they operate similarly to our mainstream medical system, with Ayurvedic professionals having to undergo training and certification just like a doctor would in the states. It is supposedly one of the oldest medicinal systems around, which made it surprising that I couldn’t find anything about this specific powder online, but I suppose that may speak to the originality of the medicine that my Informant’s mother was making.

Mommy’s Magic Medicine

Text: “Growing up a little ritual we had when we were younger kids was that every time we got injured my mom would put Neosporin on our little cut or scrape and call it Mommy’s magic medicine. And so every single time I got hurt as a kid I remember my mom putting the Neosporin on my cut and at the time I didn’t know it was Neosporin, I always only knew it as Mommy’s magic medicine. And so I always felt relieved when that happened and it’s something that has resonated with me my whole life.”

Context: This story was shared by the informant, a law school student, who reflected on a childhood ritual involving minor injuries and the comforting presence of their mother. The informant recalls that whenever they got a cut or scrape, their mother would apply Neosporin while calling it “Mommy’s magic medicine.” At the time, the informant didn’t recognize it as a commercial product—they only understood it as something their mother used to make them feel better. This phrase, repeated over many years, became a deeply ingrained part of their childhood experience and remains a memorable, emotionally significant ritual that they continue to associate with safety, love, and maternal care.

Analysis: This is a great example of folk medicine in a family setting. Even though Neosporin is a store-bought product, the way the mom framed it as “Mommy’s magic medicine” gave it a kind of homemade, personal meaning. It wasn’t just about the ointment—it became a small ritual that the informant associated with healing and comfort. Calling it “magic” added a sense of wonder, and also helped make the pain feel less serious or scary.

This kind of thing is really common in folk medicine, where the emotional support is just as important as the treatment itself. Parents often use little sayings, routines, or made-up names to soothe their kids, and those moments become part of how children learn to handle pain or fear. In this case, the ritual shows how folk practices can exist right alongside modern medicine—what matters is the meaning attached to it. For the informant, that meaning stuck with them, even long after they found out what Neosporin actually was.

Informant Info

Race/Ethnicity: White

Age: 23

Occupation: Student

Residence: Oak Park, CA

Date of Performance: April 22, 2025

Primary Language: English

Other Language(s): N/A

Relationship: Brother

Healing frogs

AGE

21

Date_of_performance

2/23/25

Language

English

Nationality

American

Occupation

Student

Primary Language

Spanish

Residence

San Martin, CA

Folk Speech: sana sana, colita de rana si no sanas hoy, sanaras manana

Translation: heal, heal, little frog’s tail. If you don’t feel better today, you’ll feel better tomorrow

Context + Text: The individual is my roommate in college for the past 4 years. The informant is from Mexican descent and when he was a little boy, his grandma would say this to him whenever he was sick. He never really understood what it meant, but it had been said to him since he could remember, and he believes that it actually healed him. “When I finally got old enough to understand what was being said, I got a little confused and asked my grandma why this was a cultural saying”, he explains. “She told me it was a little bit of nonsense, but it was a little silly rhyme that kids could learn.” When I asked him how he feels about it today, he said it was his favorite thing to say whenever he was sick, and he would beg his mom to buy little frog plush toys whenever they were at the store. “I built a collection of 12 little frogs, and every time I got sick, I used to sleep with them hoping their tails would heal me.” I then asked him if he still had them, and he said “Of course, I still get sick today and my kids one day will need them!”

Analysis: This little folk saying stems from Latin American culture, and it turned into a belief for little children that a frog’s tail truly had healing powers. The short version of the saying it simply “heal, heal, little frog’s tail”, calling for the child to heal from the powers of the little frog. The longer version provides a better explanation, that if you are not healed by tonight, tomorrow will heal you. It falls along with parental advice that if you sleep while sick, you will always feel better when you wake up. The short version is what many of the kids learned as it was just easier to remember, and in the original Spanish version it rhymes. We have seen that rhymes are easier to remember, especially for children. 

Mortality Rate – Joke

Nationality: American
Age: 56
Occupation: Physician
Residence: Los Angeles
Language: English

Text: Despite our best efforts, the mortality rate remains 100%.

Context: “I originally heard this joke back in med school, and it really stuck with me. I’m not sure how widely known it is in the medical sphere, but I’ve heard it several more times since from various practitioners, so it seems to be a pretty popular one. I’ve heard surgeons say it, cardiologists, even some nurses. I’m not sure where it originated from, but everyone I’ve told it to finds it pretty funny so I’ll keep using it.”

Analysis: This is a surprisingly dark joke for the medical field, and it makes me wonder where it came from. The morbidity of it makes me think that it developed as a way for doctors to cope with the loss of a patient when they weren’t able to save them. Lots of people use humor to deal with tragedy. Doctors see more suffering and death than the vast majority of people, and it makes sense that such experiences would influence their sense of humor. Or perhaps it doesn’t have any dark origins at all, and is just a creative way to say the classic phrase “everyone dies.” Either way, it’s fascinating to think about.

Text:

In a discussion about family health practices, a classmate shared a folk remedy rooted in his heritage. When a family member falls ill, his father employs a traditional healing method. This involves igniting a tissue, placing it on a glass, and then setting the glass on the stomach of the sick person. The belief is that the burning tissue creates a vacuum within the glass, which then draws out the infection from the individual’s body.

Context:

My classmate explained that this practice of using fire and a glass to cure ailments is an ancestral folk medicine technique passed down through generations in his family. They believe that the heat and resulting suction specifically target the sickness, effectively extracting it from within. He recalled this method being applied various times throughout his childhood, particularly for stomach-related issues. The ritual, though medically unverified, is deeply embedded in the familial tradition, and it’s a vivid representation of the intimate trust they place in their heritage and the natural methods of healing.

Analysis:

This folk remedy mirrors the principles of sympathetic magic, specifically of the contagious variety, as outlined by James George Frazer. Just as Frazer described how objects associated with a person, such as a lock of hair, could be used to influence their well-being, so does the use of a glass on the body in this practice suggests a transfer or extraction of ailment. While to the outsider it may seem a quaint or even irrational act, to those practicing, it’s a manifestation of a deep-seated belief in the tangible interaction between physical objects and one’s health. Furthermore, Hafstein’s notion of collective tradition plays a role here, emphasizing the importance of community and shared practices in the development of folk remedies. Rather than deriving from a single innovator, this practice is likely the result of communal beliefs and the collective wisdom of the family, passed down and adapted over time. It represents a lineage of knowledge and a tangible connection to their ancestors, imbuing the act with personal, cultural, and historical significance beyond mere “entertainment value” or rudimentary medical intervention. This traditional method, while not scientifically substantiated, offers a unique lens through which we can examine the interplay of belief, culture, and the human need to find solace in the face of illness.