Baba Who? Babalú!

Elders often stress the centrality of the odu Ogbe-Yono when they discuss Babalú. The sign is called Eyeunle-Ogundá by the babalochas. Here is a classic story from the sign: In his travels toward the land of Dahomey, Omolú traveled with his guide Ogbe-Yono, and they took their own sweet time in arriving, slowing traversing the long, rough road. When they arrived at the town of Shaki, they encountered its queen, a woman named Ottanagoso. She had many large, bearded goats that were strong enough to ride in those parts. When she saw how tired they were, she offered a goat to Ogbe-Yono, so they could continue their trip, and she gave him a special insignia so that wherever they arrived, her servants would offer him gifts and fresh goat. The insignia was beads and beautiful stones from her kingdom in the form of a necklace that people would identify as the mark of the Queen of Shaki. It took five days for Ogbe-Yono and Omolú to travel from Shaki to Saya, and each day they passed a n

The first time I ever got a reading in the religion, it was with Santiago Pedroso-Cálves, an Obatalá priest and orí-até who worked out of Philadelphia in the 1970s and 1980s. He told me a story about Ochún and Babalú-Ayé that I have never heard anywhere else. Babalú-Ayé was sick and covered with open sores from smallpox. When he arrived in the land of the Arará, he arrived at the bank of a river, the sacred realm of Ochún. He wrapped himself in a special cloth and entered into the water. He came out and he sat by the bank until he was dry. When he unwrapped himself, his sores were gone. Pleased with this new development, Babalú rested in this place. (At this point in the narrative, Santiago pointed to his Babalú-Ayé and said it was the same kind of cloth hanging over it--a square of sack cloth with a thick edging of purple cloth and four cowries in the middle, sewn in the shape of a cross.) After a few days, a child appeared covered in same sores that had plagued Babalú. He ex

Just as we begin in one place but often end up somewhere very different, so it is with the orichas and even Olofi, another name santeros give to Olodumare, the Supreme God. In the odu Ofun-Ocana, the elders tell another tale of the death and resurrection of Babalú-Ayé. It has some similarities to the one where Obatalá told him to keep to himself, but it also has a lot to say about promiscuity and the movement of the orichas. Olofi gave Babalú-Ayé the aché to sleep with any woman he desired. One day, Orunmila approached Babalú-Ayé and said, “As you know, today is a holy day, and Olofi would like you to control yourself.” But Babalú-Ayé answered, “If Olofi gave me the aché, it was so I could make use of it as often as I like.” “Do what you like,” answered Orunmila before leaving. On Thursday evening, Babalú-Ayé went to bed with a woman, and the next day his whole body was covered in sores. In a few days he died as a consequence of the syphilis that Olofi had sent as a punishment.

Key to understanding Babalú-Ayé is the fact that he moves: he moves out of the land of the Lucumí and into the wilderness. He moves out of the wilderness and into the land of the Arará. He becomes king of a foreign land. More simply, he moves from well-being to destitution and back to well-being. In addition to moving physically from place to place, he moves people´s emotions with his suffering. It is impressive, unforgettable even, to see people imitating him in the caminata, as they drag themselves along the pavement. The sound alone sticks with you, but their bloody hands and knees remind you of the pain you have lived through. In Spanish, the verb conmover captures both this shared moving and being moved. Even in the ceremonies that the now-dead elders taught to the living, Babalú-Ayé moves. In many houses, he travels to the ceiba tree and then again to the cemetery, eating at each stop. He then travels to the family shrine for the dead--the egun--and again shares a meal w

Lázaro de la Caridad Zulueta Soa had just recieved the final installment of the derecho, and Concepción was going to undergo the initiatation for Babalú-Ayé and his mysterious mother, Nanú. A few days later, Lázaro had a dream: Standing before the altar for the Earth Dieties, he was packing the underside of the lid of Nanú's container with "carga"--the herbs, oils, earth from various places, and other natural objects. He sealed the ingredients in place with molten beeswax. Then he turned over and placed it on top of Nanú's pot, a secret source of aché no one would see. After the dream, Lázaro went before Nanú and asked her if he should pack the lid of Concepción's Nanú with carga, imitating what she had showed him in the dream. Naturally he would follow her advice.   (Photo (c) 2007 David Brown/Folkcuba.com)

When I was a young priest, I was preparing to give Olocun, the mysterious oricha of the bottom of the sea, to one of my godchildren. We had the vessel, the tools, the shells, and the beaded necklace. As we waited for the date of the ceremony to arrive, he dreamed that he was wearing a bracelet for Olocun on his left wrist. It was like the multistranded idé that priests get when they are initiated but it had only one strand of blue and clear beads. I was a young priest, so I asked my teacher, Ernesto Pichardo, how to deal with this dream. He explained to me that the Earth Deities often communicate through dreams; furthermore, they often suggest more variations in their ceremonies than other orichas. His advice was to divine with Elegguá’s shells to see if the dream really was a revelation that should be followed. I no longer remember what sign came out, but when I divined for the addition of this bracelet it was approved by Elegguá. So we made the bracelet and when the ceremony came, we