Baba Who? Babalú!

        For whatever reason, I find myself intrigued today by a certain set of parallels in the material I have been laying out here: there are many aspects of Babalú-Ayé that live outside the house and cannot be brought in.   The Zulueta house in Perico has the secret that lives in an outbuilding in the patio, planted mysteriously by their founding ancestress, Octavia—Jundesi. Irete-Oyekún calls for the consecration of Ajuangan , a powerful and destructive force who also lives in the patio. Oyekún-Ojuani describes the kiti , the secret place for Asojano to eat and call his disruptive children. Each of these seems to move against the major ritual pattern in Lucumí initiations for warrior deities, where the oricha is first fed in the forest and then, once placated, brought into the house.   These powers seem to point to aspects of divinity that cannot be civilized enough to bring into everyday life. These powers are always external and remind us of the power of the bush or th

When working in Dahomey, Herskovits recorded a very interesting story: When people came into the world, they had no medicine. No one knew that leaves could cure. When people fell ill, there was no knowledge of what to do to cure them. Now there were hunters in those days who went into the deep, deep bush. One day a hunter came upon a mound of Earth in the bush. When he was about to pass it, a voice spoke from inside it. The hunter’s wife was a leper, and the voice said, “Hunter, I will show you a medicine to cure your wife. When you give it to her, she will become well again.” Then the voice said, “Turn your back to me and wait.” It was Azizan, the Forest Spirit, who was in the mound, and as the hunter’s back was turned, Azizan put the leaves beside him. When Hunter looked again, he saw the leaves. The voice said, “Take these leaves, crush them, and mix them with water. Then give some of this to your wife to drink, and use the rest to wash her sores.” When the hunter came

So today I am reflecting on pilgrimage. Partly I am trying to honor the major spiritual work of the festival of Babalú and the thousands of people who made the journey to Rincón last weekend. Partly I am trying to prepare myself, because this summer I hope to walk the Road of Santiago with my thirteen-year-old. Moving toward the divine is a very old practice. The ancestors name its origin in the divination sign Ofún-Ojuani, and they taught us the value of this kind of prayer. In old Dahomey, the ancestors held an annual pilgrimage to Dassa-Zoumé. The ancestors said this was where Nana Burukú lived when she was on Earth, and each year those who worshiped her children Mawu-Lisa, the Obatalá-like sky deities, carried offerings to her special shrine there. Similarly, new initiates to Mawu-Lisa made a trip to Dassa to worship Nana Burukú. When they arrived, everything was provided for them. However, only the greatest and most powerful priests of Nana Burukú entered the temple becaus

Dasoyí , the father of all the Babalús, is the most common road of this oricha today, but the next most popular is Afimaye.  His white beads with blue stripes are perhaps the most commonly used for Babalú-Ayé . This path of the oricha is said to be the youngest of the Asojanos, and some say he lives in a pumpkin plant and works as a lawyer. Some say he also comes to find the initiates to Arará deities at the hour of their passing. Afimaye’s youth evokes a physical strength and vitality for which he is renowned. When worshipped, he is famous for reinvigorating his devotees.  In the house of Magdalena Fernández in Havana, I once participated in giving Afimaye to an 84 year-old woman. At the beginning of the ceremony, she sat speechless and inert, slumped over in a chair watching the ritual.  After she was cleaned, Afimaye ate and then mounted her. After contorting for a few minutes, she rose and danced with great power for half an hour. Later she was a different woman, and the trans

Many Lucumí and Arará elders think and talk about the orichas and fodunces as having different stages, or etapas , to their life histories. Similarly, my godfather Ernesto Pichardo—Obá Irawó has long urged me to look carefully at the natural qualities of the orichas and the ingredients we use in ceremonies to deepen my understanding of the workings of the religion. Recently while contemplating Nana Burukú with my friend and godson Eguín Koladé, we realized that it is possible to think of the different stages of Nana Burukú as different moments in a specific water cycle. Often referred to as the mother of fresh water, Nana Burukú is often fed at the spring, where water emerges out of the ground.   A spring is usually located up on the side of a hill, so it does lead to a sense of elevation. In fact, some lineages begin initiations for Nana Burukú with a large cleaning with meat at a spring; after the cleaning the meat is dumped in a hole in the Earth. I have heard some elders su

The story from Irete-Otura says that Agrónika Omó Bitasa was a potter, a craft he had learned from his father, Asojano. When he is captured by the Iyesá, he is making plates. Often people refer to Babalú-Ayé as a warrior, a wanderer, a wounded healer and a king, but I can think of no other reference to the Old Man working as a potter. Two things about this idea intrigue me. Art historian Suzanne Blier makes clear that in Benin shallow plates, called agban in Fon-gbe, are one of the sources that inspire vessels used to hold the sacred objects of the deities (in Sacred Arts of Vodou , p. 68). When the word agban evolves to follow the pronunciation commonly used in Afro-Cuban communities, the “gb” sound becomes a “gu” or “w” sound, and this produces the Arará word “ awán ,” the name given to the most important ceremony performed for Asojano, where plates are laden with offerings of food and dried grains.   So here Asojano the potter is honored through a ceremony with many plates

The elders say that Babalú-Ayé stalks the night accompanied by his dogs and the spirits of his children. He is immediately linked to the world of the spirits. During the day they rest in shade, leaning against the shade of large trees. He is especially fond of the yamao, the jaguey, the flamboyán, and the ceiba, and all are used in ceremonies of the oricha. They say Babalú lives in the heart of the forest during the rainy season, but in the dry season he enters the city, bringing epidemics. In fact, some people say when there are epidemics, you should not play for him, you should not call him. Instead, you should placate him with food and simple offerings. People also link him to epidemics of every kind: bubonic plague, yellow fever, the Spanish influence, AIDS. Historically, though, he was thought to control smallpox. By extension he has dominion over all skin sores and diseases. Since smallpox leaves visible scars, any transfiguring disease comes under his purview. Many pe

The bakonos , as Fon-speaking babalawos in Benin are known, regularly deposit their sacrifices in the natural world. But oricha people everywhere know that it is sometimes difficult to make it to the sea or the forest or another natural location to hand over an offering to an oricha. So the bakonos have devised a remarkable solution: they have something called Kiti where they can deposit any offering. (It is called  Ñawo in Fon-gbe.) At a crossroads, a bakono opens a hole in the earth and offers a goat and four chickens. To the hole, he adds Ifá herbs, a wide variety of earths from different locations, a bit of money, and other secrets. He closes the hole, places a rock sacred to Sakpata on top, and plants a special tree. (Sakpata is a name for Babalú.) On the tree he hangs red, white, and black cloth. After offering a chicken to the stone and making the standard prayers for protection from death, sickness, and evil, Kiti is ready to work: from then on, the bakono leaves his offering

There is an interesting story in the odu Irete-Oyekun that speaks of powers buried in the Earth. The King of Hebieque was called Disu, and he had a twin brother, Ajuangan, who was a sorcerer, a witch, and just terrible. He fed himself and his shrine objects with human blood. When the King found out about his twin brother’s evil deeds, he made a great hole in the Earth and placed Ajuangan there with every kind of food imaginable. He closed the hole and in that way consecrated Ajuangan as a fodún (oricha) so that he could do no more harm. When the King thought his brother had regenerated himself, he stood before the hole and said: Vitse dokpo meyi Ajuangan kuko No one can cut Ajuangan, I defend him. The next morning, Ajuangan turned back into a man and more of a sorcerer than ever before, and he named himself Akpodjivodu-Kombo-Kumku-Mabo (meaning, “He who has no friends”). He continued to kill people, and so they made a great hole in the Earth, filled it with dry wood to make a

Yesterday I could not access Blogger so I posted this first on Wikipedia . Thanks to those of you who provided feedback on the first draft--you definitely helped me improve it. * * * * * * * The narratives and rituals that carry important cultural information about Babalú-Ayé include various recurring and interrelated themes. Earth: Babalú-Ayé’s worship is frequently linked to the Earth itself both in Africa and the Americas, and even his name identifies him with the Earth itself (McKenzie 1997:417). However, he also said to provide his followers with other material blessings as well. Taken as symbol of a large set of concerns, Babalú’s link with the Earth can be understood as an emphasis on the centrality of the material in human life. Illness and Suffering: Long referred to as the “god of smallpox,” Babalú certainly links back to disease in the body and the changes it brings (Wenger 1983:168). Because Babalú-Ayé both punishes people with illness and rewards them with health,

I have written before about the road of Babalú-Ayé called Soyaya , who is strongly associated with Olocun, the oricha of the bottom of the sea. While these two share deep mysteries and untold wealth, I have wondered about their connection, and this week I think I understand it a bit better. Being in San Francisco for the Earth Medicine Alliance Conference , I decided to spend some time at UC Berkeley exploring the papers of the anthropologist William Bascom, who spent the summer of 1948 researching Africanisms in Jovellanos, Matanzas Province. He spent days discussing Lucumí and Arará traditions with the famous Esteban Baró, an African-born child of Ochumaré, the oricha of the rainbow, who is also known as Dan or Güeró. At some point, their conversation turned to Olocun, and Baró explained laconically, "Olocun is the Earth of the sea, oldest of all the orichas."

Next weekend, the Earth Medicine Alliance is holding its first annual conference in San Francisco. The conference unites many people involved in Earth-based spiritual traditions, ecotherapy, and advocacy for the natural world. With a remarkable diversity of speakers from different perspectives, the conference should result in an exchange of compelling dialogue and energizing ideas. Together with goddaughter Phoenix Smith, I will be presenting an experiential workshop titled Babalú-Ayé: Healing Self and Earth in African Diaspora Orisha Tradition. Designed to help people get to know Babá, the workshop will include ritual, storytelling, reflection, and play. The following day, Phoenix and I will lead an awán for Babalú at Heron's Head Park, an EPA Super Fund site.

So I have set a new goal for myself: I have decided to rewrite the Wikipedia entry on Babalú-Ayé with the goal of making it more encompassing of the diversity of orisha religion's history and practice as well as rich in detail. I would love feedback on the proposed text. In the religious system of Orisha worship, Babalú-Ayé is the praise name of the spirit of the Earth and strongly associated with infectious disease, and healing. He is an Orisha, representing the Supreme God Olodumare on Earth. The name Babalú-Ayé translates as “Father, Lord of the Earth” (Idowu 1962:95) and points to the authority this orisha exercises on all things earthly, including the body, wealth, and physical possessions. In West Africa, he was strongly associated with epidemics of smallpox, but in the contemporary Americas, he is more commonly thought of as the patron of leprosy, influenza, and AIDS (Thompson 1993:216). Although strongly associated with illness and disease, Babalú-Ayé is also the deity t

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

I was recently reading Marie Louise von Franz, the grand dame of Jungian analytical psychology. In her book The Puer Aeternus , she analyzes images of the Earth in Saint-Exupery's book, The Little Prince, saying, Earth is the will to live and the acceptance of life.  This little gem seemed like it could find a place in this conversation.

So little is known about Nanú that many elders refer to her simply as “the mother of Babalú-Ayé,” “the mysterious one,” or “the stronghold” or “strength.” She is related to the other roads of Babalú-Ayé and has many of the same functions. She comes to remove obstacles to health and well-being, and she is treated in much the same way as other manifestations of Babalú: she is treated with great respect because of her awesome power. She is feared because death is always with her, and she too rules infectious disease. She is secretive, but provides important revelations. She is wealthy beyond our understanding. She lives in the wilds and wanders on the road. She struggles with how to express moral ideals in an imperfect world. She seems to be dead, only to rise again. Nevertheless, her iconography and ceremonies are slightly different from the other Babalú-Ayés. Nanú has a broom, which is received by her devotees the first time she eats goat. The já points to her work as cleans

The odu Obara-Irozo contains both references to how Babalú-Aye made his way to the land of the Arará and to the role of cundeamor. Changó was returning from war and passed a garbage dump on the edge of the town of Osá-Yekú. There, he found a ragged, sick, old man. Changó sent his lieutenant to bring food and water to the old man. After installing his enormous army at the town of Obara-Koso (a nickname for Obara-Irozo), Changó returned to the place where he left the old man, who was none other than Asojano, and directed him toward a narrow pass. Changó told him to go through the pass and put on a cape made of tiger skin (some say leopard skin) that Asojano would find at the other end. Changó also told him that he would find a boy who would give him water and point out certain herbs that Asojano could use to heal sores and other illnesses. The boy was none other than Elegguá Echú Afrá, and he pointed out  cundeamor , aguedita , zarzafrán , mangle rojo , and hierba de sangre , among

I have been thinking a lot about caves lately. In Cuba, Babalú-Ayé is thought to have lived in a cave at his nadir; in fact, the rare road of Babalú called Kujunú is said to always live in caves and emerge at night with a lantern: Babalú as the light in the darkness. Many altars recreate this terrestrial abode. When giving Babalú, most lineages make a special, low-slung altar in a corner and cover the front with the climbing plant called cundeamor . Babalú and his family rest in this manmade cave during much of the ceremony, emerging only to work or eat. Many people keep their Babalú vessels tucked away and covered with plants or cloth, hidden from view. Some, like Rafael Linares and his widow, cover the vessels themselves in cundeamor . Of course, there is more than one story about how it is the Babá came to live in a cave. There is the story of his exile that I have already told, and many people simply fill in the detail of the cave when they are trying to imagine or expl

The secrecy so common to the religion takes on even greater intensity when it comes to the worship of Babalú-Ayé. In addition to secrets installed in the earth, most lineages also give Babalú-Ayé with a secret inside his vessel. Most also add secret ingredients to empower the já. These secrets almost always include either a bibijagua or earth from a bibijagua colony. Priests routinely travel to these nests to harvest bibijaguas or collect the soil, leaving a small offering in exchange. Bibijaguas are often used to make Elegguaces as well. Because these ants are in constant motion, they resemble both Elegguá and Babalú. Their name comes from combining two indigenous words: bibi means “a small creature,” and jagua translates as “great damage or harm.” These ants belong to a species found only in Cuba, Atta insularis , and their more common name, hormigas cortadoras , identifies them as “cutter ants.” The Spanish-language Wikipedia site refers to them as a plague: they are famous f

Elders often refer to Babalú-Ayé as the oricha of the Earth, and his name alludes to this fact. Ayé means “world” or “earth,” so the whole name translates as “Father, Lord of the Earth.” The Earth supports us in all we do and is thought of as the universal witness of our actions. Forbearers of the Arará in Cuba, the West African Fon, traditionally made oaths with one hand on the Earth. In fact, husbands and wives would promise to be loyal to each other as they drank an herbal mixture with Earth mixed into it, knowing that the Earth would see if they broke their promise and in turn punish them. This bit of West African tradition intrigues me, because most lineages in Cuba include a bit of Earth in the herbal mixture called osain,  which is made to wash and cool the oricha when he is born. One Matanzas lineage I know focuses on travel and Earth as they prepare to give Babalú-Ayé . They take Babalú out to a cemetery and feed him with a guinea, white wine and cigar smoke. Then they