Cults came up in my conversations in Portugal more than they ever did throughout my entire life. I can’t really explain why. Somehow cults were just relevant. There were no shortage of situations or people who came across as suspiciously “cultish” or just happened to know so much about cults.
How much for an hour of channeling, please?
For example, a former colleague from my PhD years was enjoying the sun on the beach in the Alentejo region when a dog ran towards her and started playing with her. From behind the dog emerged a woman, wearing black knee-high black boots (in 27-degree weather and on the beach), walking towards my colleague. The woman started a conversation, and they exchanged numbers.
Next day, the boots lady rang up that colleague and informed her that she felt a strong connection between them. She told her that as a channeler, she knew about these things.
She ended up offering this PhD student a tempting salary which people in the arts rarely get for a job in the arts sector (Coincidence!) And what was the job? Managing an art space! We all thought it was too good to be true.
And indeed, it was.
Things got ever stranger when the boots lady started acting possessive with our colleague. Before we knew it, our colleague was celebrating her birthday with a group of people she had only met two weeks before in the Alentejo: It was the group of the channeler lady. My colleague’s closer friends decided to drive down from Lisbon to throw a surprise birthday thing, but the arty channelers group were not very happy about that. They tried to isolate her from them even on her birthday.
Things got uglier when our friend only received half the promised salary for the first month and none of it for the second and third months. It also got dramatic between all the members of the “art space” and intense conflicts were taking place. When I looked up that space, I realized that there is less art and more channeling going on. Channeling services were provided at incredibly expensive rates (200 euro for one hour of Zoom channeling, and you should expect to pay more if it is in person.)
Leave cacao alone
Another incident was my friend’s flat mate who charged people a fortune for holding cacao rituals in her bedroom. They all gathered and rubbed cacao all over their bodies as they performed unorthodox dance moves around each other. It turned out that she is part of a group in Lisbon who charges people between 50 – 60 euros for a cup of cacao as you sit down and sip it in a circle with other people.
Not really a cult, but close enough.
I understand that it all looks like a scam at first, and it is the case for those making money out of it. But these groups also include genuine believers (probably the ones exploited one way or another).
Time for a proper cult
And while cacao rituals and channeling may seem harmless, until you realize how much money is ripped off people, real danger has been associated with the notorious group of Mooji. It is believed that two of its members committed suicide in 2017.
Reporter Be Scofield investigated the case of Mooji’s cult which inhabits a remote part of the Alentejo region. Mooji seems to be a god-like figure among his devotees. As per some of the interviews the reporter conducted with former staff members, there is no doubt that this is a cult. Emotional, verbal and sexual abuse go hand in hand with exorcism and unusual rituals.
The Alentejo region seems to be an attractive spot for a few communes, and/or cults, potentially because of how cheap the lands are. They are also usually suitable for agriculture.
I encountered many more stories, and I often thought about why cults keep coming up as often as they do in my life in Portugal. Needless to mention that I was invited once before to visit a “very cool”, “isolated” group of people in the Alentejo by someone I spoke to for five minutes and who had clearly never showered before.
A friend of mine is convinced that I attract strange people who are likely to tell me stories of the supernatural. I do know many strange people indeed. I won’t deny it. But this doesn’t explain why Portugal and the supernatural. In other words, why spiritual strangeness in Portugal?
I, then, spotted a pattern. These stories are often associated with young middle-class and upper-class white people. At the moment, Portugal is getting increasingly popular among this exact demographic group (Germans, Dutch, Americans, etc.).
Portugal is also popular among Southeast Asian immigrants, but these are likely to have access to real gurus, they could also potentially be sick of gurus, and – most importantly– they don’t have the disposable income nor the time to sit through a three-hour cacao ritual for 60-plus euros.
Therefore, young, disenchanted people from the “science-driven”, “secular” West are more likely to be drawn to a spiritual journey or a guru. They are also more likely to have the resources to fund this spiritual journey or turn a guru into a millionaire.
I think we can all see now why Portuguese locals sometimes feel that expats live on another planet. Some of them really do, in communes, where people don’t shower or on mountains with gurus.
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Read more about Portugal here in Dispatches’ archives.
Sarah Nagaty has a PhD in cultural studies, She’s lived in Portugal for six years.
As a student of cultural studies, Sarah is drawn to what connects people from different backgrounds to new cultures and places, how they relate to their new surroundings and what kind of activities they could engage with in their new hometowns.
