Narrator: This is where chocolate comes from.
So this is a cacao.
Narrator: For Izaias Mendoza,
the sacred plant is a connection to his Mayan heritage.
Cacao has been a spiritual symbol for Indigenous
people across Central America for millennia,
but as the modern chocolate industry grew,
the plants ritual use was nearly forgotten.
Today, people like Izaias are breathing new life
into the tradition of drinking pure cacao.
We visited Guatemala to see how the ancient use of chocolate
is still standing.
Cacao was once a drink used in rituals like weddings
and human sacrifices.
But today, Izaias is incorporating it into his
Mayan fire ceremony.
He and his wife, Izabel, lead prayers
and set up an altar around cacao tree
with offerings like flowers and candles
for the Mayan spirits.
So we're going to call the spirit of cacao,
the spirit of these lands.
Narrator: Mostly foreigners come to his ceremonies.
Izaias says many Guatemalans today
stay away from Mayan spirituality.
The churches or the religions. It's so big here.
It's so big.
They disempower the Indigenous beliefs.
Narrator: The plant contains theobromine,
a compound that stimulates the heart and can
make people feel euphoric when taken in high doses.
Cacao will help to open the heart.
And people are afraid of that, because the only love that
exists for them is Jesus, is the religion.
-Narrator: Izaias faced resistance from his
Christian family. When he and Izabel left home
to become shamans,
his mother was against it.
She thought I was going to the darkness.
I have, like, failed my family.
Narrator: But he went on to build a business
around his heritage.
Today, he employs around 20 people to process and sell cacao
through his company called Lavalove based in San Marcos.
Some of them are Indigenous women like Maria Mendoza.
She picks through the beans that come already fermented from
different farms across the Guatemalan coasts.
Any cracked or moldy beans are not up to standard.
She toasts them by hand in small batches.
Burnt cacao tastes too similar to coffee,
but toasting it just the right amount
brings out the flavor and makes it easier to peel.
Just up the road, workers at Lavalove's factory
inspect the beans again and remove any remaining shells.
From there, the beans go to a facility
where machines grind them into a paste.
Workers scoop 1 pound of cacao into each mold.
Izaias says they produce and sell an average
about 185 blocks per month,
three times more than when they first opened.
Once the liquid solidifies,
workers package up the blocks.
They sell these across the world through local ambassadors
so people can make their own cacao drink at home.
Some of the beans are reserved for demonstrations at
Lavalove's store.
Workers like Hilda Sancoy Sacach show visitors
the traditional methods of their ancestors.
Before machines sped up this process,
women were in charge of grinding cacao by hand.
They crush the beans with the 30-pound stone
for 15 minutes straight until it becomes a paste.
Then Hilda prepares the ceremonial dose.
She mixes hot water with 42 grams of cacao.
The recipe takes no sugar at all.
Instead, she adds cardamom and cinnamon
before beating it all together.
Narrator: The ritual of drinking chocolate can be traced back to at
least 1100 BC in Mesoamerica.
It likely originated with the first civilization there,
the Olmecs,
and became a high-end beverage for the Mayans and Aztecs.
Cacao was one of the most important commodities
in the region for centuries.
At one point, people exchanged beans as currency.
The plant had medicinal uses, too.
The Spanish took cacao to Europe while
colonizing the Americas in the 16th century.
Its popularity exploded among European elites.
They set up plantations across Latin America,
eventually giving rise to the modern chocolate industry
and pushing Indigenous tradition to the side.
Narrator: Today, Izaias owns a small plantation
that he uses for tours.
He shows people how the plant grows and how it tastes.
The taste, it is sweet, slimy.
It looks like an ice cream.
Narrator: Izaias is after a rare, ancient kind of cacao
called criollo.
It has a more mild taste, and Izaias says it's better for
his ceremonies.
We want the properties of the cacao that help
people to open their consciousness
and open the heart.
Because it's more powerful that way.
Narrator: Drinking pure cacao can help boost energy.
But the spiritual element is what many are interested in,
including foreigners.
Keith Wilson was one of the first people to open a cacao
business here in San Marcos
after leaving the United States in 2003.
And beans look like this.
Narrator: Now, he's well known here for
his cacao ceremonies,
Which have moved from his porch to his computer
during the pandemic.
Ladies and gentlemen, if you have one of these,
if you have yourself a cup of cacao.
I don't do Indigenous ceremonies.
I am assisting this medicine to come out of the rainforest
and connect to the people that I connect to -- Western people --
to open their hearts and reestablish the balance.
Narrator: After spending three years visiting plantations
and learning from Indigenous people,
he shared his knowledge with others around town.
Izaias first learned how to process cacao through Keith.
But to become a shaman,
Izaias received training from Mayan elders
when he was 23.
Keith hasn't received the same kind of training,
but some people call him "the Chocolate Shaman."
That term "Chocolate Shaman" just happened, because
a shaman is a teacher, an energy worker.
Now, if somebody wants to say, "That's not shamanism
if you aren't trained by a culture," well, OK.
I don't have an argument with that.
Close your eyes.
Narrator: Today, Keith and Izaias' ceremonies
look pretty different.
Fill with that inner smile into a radiance
from all of us to all of us.
His work is more like new-age stuff.
There's nothing that is right or wrong.
They're just different, you know, but it's all sacred.
It's all connected.
Narrator: Cacao's popularity exploded here just a few years after
Keith started selling it and holding ceremonies.
I mean, it reached the place where in this town,
it became "cacao and": cacao and yoga,
cacao and meditation.
Cacao became a thing with everything.
We have approximately 50 international competitors,
most of whom have come to this porch and learned right here.
Narrator: The cacao craze has spread beyond Guatemala,
with ceremonies popping up in cities
across the US and Europe.
Some critics argue that the trend is a form of cultural
appropriation.
But Izaias is happy to share cacao with foreigners
as long as they remember its origins.
We got to watch people that are,
they're singing with cacao and doing this and doing that.
That's fine, but still
go to the ceremonies and learn from the Indigenous.
Narrator: Today, his family embraces his work,
and he hopes to share his practice with
as many people as possible.
I feel that
we are called to teach people to hold the sacredness
of cacao instead of just partying with cacao.