Baba Who? Babalú!

As I have pointed out in other posts, Babalú-Ayé has many, many roads —perhaps more than any other oricha. Here is story from Oyekún Biká about a road called Soyaya. In the land of Dassa, there was a bokono , as the Arará call their babalawos. This bokono was called Juanlani and his sign was Oyekún Biká. He was plagued by many struggles with other bokonos, and one day he divined for himself. His own sign came out, indicating that he should give Babalú-Ayé a goat, a rooster, a guinea hen, smoked fish with jutía , cocoa butter, cascarilla, rum, a coconut, and money. Babalú-Ayé, who was called Tokuen in Dassa, said his brother Soyaya could solve his problem. Soyaya lived with the oricha Olokun at the bottom of the sea, so Babá sent Juanlani to take the ebó to seashore and call Soyaya with a gongoli , a old-fashioned wooden bell. Three times Juanlani did this and Soyaya did not appear. At the end of the third day, as Juanlani was leaving, a beautiful green and gold fish leapt from the se

Check out this video of the young people of Juanelo dancing Babalú-Ayé in a folkloric performance. The opening scene shows the dancer rising up like the oricha. Later, he dances with a crippled leg and two jaces to clean himself.  He presumably enacts possession, as people call "Aso!" The other dancers capture the subtle body movements, transforming from stiff to confident in their movements. Notice that a dog just happens through.

Many people in Cuba have told me that after Changó and Ochún, Babalú-Ayé is the most popular oricha in the religion; it is true that those who know him definitely love him. Still I am always surprised by quickly people will simplify this complex character. I recently found a website about Cuban culture that suggests that “ he has simple tastes and does not expect much .” This contradicts directly what I know about Babalú-Ayé, both from my elders and from my experience. My elders have said over and over—and I have repeated it like a chorus to my own godchildren, “You can negotiate with any other oricha, but you cannot play with Babalú-Ayé.” With this, the elders imply that there is simply too much at stake: to play with Babalú is play with your health, and only a fool—a “moron” as one of my beloved godparents might say—would do that! I was taught that we have to be extra careful when we do ceremonies for Babalú-Ayé, because he is so demanding, exacting, what Cubans call “majadero.”

Babalú is so much a part of the popular imagination in Cuba and the Cuban Diaspora that there is a major, and I mean MAJOR, site called Babalú Blog . It features news from Cuba and a "strong" anti-Castro perspective. Unfortunately, it has nothing to do with the religion known as Santería or the orisha known as Babalú-Ayé.

I   I I   I I   I II II The sign Ogundá Meyi includes this story: Once in the land of the Arará, Asojano encountered Changó, who told him to sit on a large stone. Suddenly, the skill to divine came to Asojano and from then on he ruled over the Arará. This is why Asojano is made on a stone, rather than an overturned mortar like most orishas. In this laconic explanatory tale, we see Asojano being guided to leadership by Changó, as in so many other stories . Here Changó directs him where to seat himself, a powerful move given the fact that “seating” the oricha is a major metaphor in both speech and ritual. The result is equally powerful: once seated, Asojano suddenly, inexplicably acquires the power of an oracle and can divine at will. I love this image: Asojano is sitting on a stone, directly connected to the Earth, and he spontaneously becomes a spokesperson for the knowledge (or wisdom?) that comes up from the Earth. Speaking from this grounded place, he fulfills his natura

This story is sometimes called “The Vengeance of Oluó Popó” but I think it really gets to the deepest motivations of this oricha. In the land of Kowanilé there lived a diviner called Iká Bemí. He was a child of Changó and enjoyed great wealth. All of his lands were rich; he reined in tranquility, health, and economic growth. All of his businesses prospered and everyone lived well. One day a pilgrim arrived, leprous and dressed in sack cloth. It was Oluó Popó, who shook a conical bell made of wood and sang: “Babá odire agolona e ago e mowanile." He frightened all who saw him, and they fled from him. He knocked on Iká Bemí’s door. Hearing the song, the diviner was frightened and did not get out of bed. Oluó Popó continued to knock insistently, so Iká Bemí sent Elegba to find out what the beggar wanted. When Oluó Popó saw Elegba, he understood that Iká Bemí had belittled him. He became very angry and began to sing: "Echichi abe ikú Awó kigbáru ikú arun kosi kode kilo mow

The divination sign Ogundá-Obara says that Adú Kaqué is the name that Asojano took when he arrived at Dahomey. He was cast out of Ilé-Ifé, and most stories include the fact that Changó took two dogs from Ogún and gave them Asojano as traveling companions. However, this sign says that Ogún presented Babá with a walking stick to aid him on his journey. It was in the form of an osun , a metal staff with a container at the top. Instead of the usual rooster, this osun carried a small dog, and Asojano used it to travel from Ilé-Ifé, through the land of Ibariba, and ultimately to his home in Dahomey.   This little osun with the dog on top is truly fascinating to me, because it is very wide-spread and short-lived. The Arará-Dajomé rama of Armando Zulueta does not give it in the United States, and my godfather, Ernesto Pichardo, told me that they used to give an osun with a rooster. When I visited Armando's house in Perico, Provincia Matanzas, I saw the rooster on top of his osun.