Voodoo in Haiti

by Alfred Métraux

  The life of Ezili is a succession of scandals: she has been the ‘kept woman’ of Damballah-wèdo and this automatically makes her the matelote (co-wife) of Aida-wèdo. She has also had liaisons with Agwé-taroyo, Ogu-badagri, and many others. Guédé-nibo courts her, but in vain, for being a beautiful half-caste Ezili has a certain colour prejudice, and cannot forgive him his black skin. The unhappy spirit dogs her footsteps, inhaling her perfume and mumbling in his nasal voice: ‘You know well that I love that woman, but she won’t have anything to do with me because I’m black.’ Ezili-Freda-Dahomey should not be confused with Grande Ezili (Grandmother Ezili) who is an old woman, crippled with rheumatism and only able to walk by dragging herself along on the ground with a stick.

  The members of the main Guédé family occupy a rather marginal position in relation to other loa. No doubt the ambiguity of their status proceeds from the fact that they are the spirits of death. Other spirits fear them and try to avoid them, which means that during ceremonies the Guédé tend to arrive towards the end, when the other loa have already been saluted. The Guédé should not be confused with the souls of the dead, or with ghosts. Although the people they possess try to give the impression of a corpse, the Guédé are not in fact corpses but loa—spirits, whose activities and rôle are confined to the province of death.

  Many Guédé descend on the villages and countryside at All Saints time. Devotees possessed by them sometimes exhibit themselves in the broad light of day in the roads and markets. The mere sight of the Guédé is enough to scare people, simply because of their funereal associations. The fear and ill-defined anxiety they provoke is, however, tempered by their cynicism, joviality and broad jokes. Their entry on to the peristyle stage is always greeted with joy by all present. Everyone knows they can be relied on to introduce a vein of frank gaiety into the most serious ceremonies. Their habit of talking through their noses is by itself comic enough—even though meant to be like the speech of Death. Their language, too, is full of the unexpected. They distort the commonest word or substitute others with filthy connotations. Lunettes (spectacles), in their mouth becomes doubles languettes (double clitoris), rum becomes pissetigue and clairin becomes claleko. They have a fine repertoire of obscene songs which they sing with a stupid look, raising one finger and prolonging certain notes indefinitely. Their favourite dance is the well-known banda—remarkable for its violent agitation of the hips and lascivious positions. In some humfo a huge wooden phallus is kept on the altar in case such an attribute is suddenly required by the god. The possessed masquerade with it, dance obscene dances or abandon themselves to prurient fooling. Tradition requires them to carry out certain tricks and they usually manage to do so. One is to drink a beverage made from twenty-one different kinds of pimento, or to wash their faces with it. Only a person possessed by a Guédé, seemingly, can touch this infernal liquid. The Guédés usually pour rum into their ears and they complete the joy of the crowd when they start pinching things out of spectators’ hands or seizing the food they were about to put in their mouths. The Guédé are also barefaced liars; their shamelessness earns them the title ‘vagabonds’. They are also accused of being stingy, for they love burying their surplus food and coming back a few days later to eat it rotten.

  The trappings of the Guédé are in keeping with the ambivalence of their nature. From some angles they look terrifying, from others merely ridiculous. They wear top-hats, bowlers or straw hats decorated with crêpe, ancient frock-coats or threadbare dress-coats. This is done in order to look like undertakers’ mutes or officials in grand mourning. Sometimes they round matters off with a collar and starched cuffs. The Guédé also wear mourning dresses and black or mauve veils. Spectacles, preferably black, are an indispensable part of their equipment. If people possessed by the Guédé are not provided with spectacles, they steal them from the noses of spectators. Such is their passion for spectacles that some Guédé wear several pairs. They also dress up as corpses. Cotton is put in their mouths and nostrils and a strip of linen round their chins. Thus apparelled they dance, emitting, from time to time, a death rattle.

  Baron-Samedi, Baron-la-Croix, Baron-Cimetière, Guédé-nibo and Madame Brigitte are the best known representatives of this terrible family. The ‘barons’ form a sort of triad, so closely united it is difficult to say whether they are three distinct spirits or three aspects of the same spirit. Baron’s emblem is a black cross surmounting a false tomb covered with a top-hat and a black coat. The tools of a grave digger (spade, pick and hoe) are all properties of Baron-Samedi and that is why he also goes under the names Three-spades, Three-picks and Three-hoes. The receptacles in which the offerings for this god are placed are black, decorated with skulls and crossbones.

  Baron’s wife, Big Brigitte, Maman or Mademoiselle Brigitte, also has authority over cemeteries, particularly those in which the first person buried was a woman. From her union with Baron she had issue: General Jean-Baptiste-Tracé (General Jean-Baptiste the Outliner) who ‘outlines’ the periphery of graves, General Fouillé (General Dig), who digs them, Ramasseur-de-Croix (Collector of Crosses), and finally at least another thirty Guédé whom we shall speak about later.

  It was à propos Guédé-nibo that I came across one of the rare vestiges of African myth still extant in Haiti. Loco, walking near Miragoane, stumbled on a package. He picked it up, opened it and found in it a stone. This he took to his humfo where it turned into a child. Loco, greatly perturbed, consulted his neighbour, Ogu, who advised him to baptize the little boy. He called him Guédé-nibo. Ogu became his godfather and later adopted him in order to educate him. Nibo even wishes to pass himself off as the brother of Ogu-badagri, who despises him and will have nothing to do with him. If, during a ceremony, Ogu-badagri meets Nibo he chases him or makes him kneel and beg forgiveness. In point of fact the functions of Guédé-nibo do get mixed up with those of the chief of the Guédé family. He takes care of tombs and if magicians wish to use some dead person, for ritual oath-taking—then it is to him they must address their prayers.

  I will add some impressions of other members of this interesting family. They are based on the behaviour of people when possessed by them. Guédé-brave, in spite of his name, has always appeared to me as a thieving impudent swashbuckler. He is celebrated in a song which is not without a certain lyrical power:

  Mwê di brav-o

  Rélé brav-o, gasô téméré

  But’bânân li, téméré

  Mòso pul li téméré

  Gnu ku kléré-li téméré

  Mòso patat-li téméré

  M’apé rélé brav Gédé

  V’ni sové z-âfâ la-o

  Brav-o rélé brav

  Gasô téméré

  I say brave-o

  Call him brave!—he’s a bold fellow

  His banana end is bold

  His bit of chicken is bold

  His bowl of clairin is bold

  His bit of sweet potato is bold

  I call Brave-Guédé

  Come and save the children

  Brave-o he’s called brave!

  He’s a bold fellow.

  For me, Captain Zombi, or Captain Guédé, is always linked with memories of hungan Baskia who was possessed by him in the middle of a dance. With trousers rolled up above the knees, a fat cigar in his mouth, Captain Zombi came round offering his friends bumpers of rum. Guédé-double, so called because he is a loa who can endow people with second sight, incarnated himself in a beautiful hunsi of Abraham’s humfo. Abraham was himself possessed at the time by Guédé-souffrant (Suffering Guédé). When this loa entered him Abraham put on a black dress, a bowler hat and held in his hand a crystal ball in which he read what the future held for his guests. It was in this same sanctuary I became acquainted with Guédé-z-araignée who used to oblige his ‘horse’ to imitate the movements of a spider. Guédé-ti-pe’té always entered an unfortunate girl, a victim of yaws, who had lost her nose. She wore a sou’wester for the occasion and danced in the gayest manner imagin
able, kicking her legs as high as possible. Guédé-fatras always possessed the hungan Tullius who thereupon carried out his famous danse de Fatras. A song in honour of Fatras includes, in the form of question and answer, an encomium of Guédé’s powers: ‘If you need wanga, where do you go? To the house of Guédé. If you want advice where do you go? To the house of Guédé. If you need treatment where do you go? To the house of Guédé.’

  Linto is a child spirit of the Guédé family. He induces puerile behaviour in those he ‘rides’. They walk clumsily, with a certain stiffness, like a baby who scarcely knows how to use his limbs. They babble and weep for food. The company treats Linto like a little child and teases him good-humouredly. Guédé-fait-que-paraître (Guédé who just appeared), who appeared only once when I was present, behaves like an ordinary Guédé and has no distinguishing trait. He speaks through his nose, utters obscenities and sings dirty songs. One day when through the mediation of Lorgina I had offered a feast to the Guédé, the whole lot of them came rushing in a crowd and danced with joyous abandon till dawn. Among my guests the following were pointed out to me: Guédé-caca, Guédé-antre-toutes (Guédé among all), Pignatou-Guédé and Madame Kikit. Achille-piquant (The sharp Achilles) is a relation of the Guédé and takes after them in his nasal way of speaking and the curious habit of tipping rum into his ear.

  Never having had an opportunity of observing people possessed by the other Guédé, I will content myself with listing them and remarking upon a few of their peculiarities. Guédé-vi bears the name given in Dahomey to the former inhabitants of the Abomey plateau, who regarded themselves as descendants of Gédé (vi means ‘children’). Guédé-usu is well-known in Haiti, but still more so in Dahomey. Guédé-loraye (Guédé the storm) is a woman of small stature who reveals herself during storms. Guédé-ti-wawé is only known to me by a song in which he complains of the injustices he suffers and of the bad food served to him. Guédé-masaka is a female spirit who ‘goes about with an umbilical cord and poisoned leaves in a bag’.

  In this brief outline of a mythology room must be made for a number of loa of the petro nanchon, who, through their cruelty and their liking for evil have earned the title of ‘devils’. In this category there are several Ezili. Ezili-jé-rouge, whose wicked nature I have already mentioned, is said to be the wife of Simbi-yandézo. The latter would seem to be more violent than his wife, so much so that whenever he is drunk she has to leave him. The other Ezili of the petro group are Ezili-mapyang, Ezili-cœur-noir (Ezili of the black heart), Ezili-bumba and Ezili-kokobe (Ezili the shrivelled). In the following song Ezili-kanlikan is accused of eating ‘two-footed goats’, that is to say human flesh:

  Ezili kâlikâ elu

  A la loa ki réd (bis)

  Ezili u mâdé kochoô

  M’apé ba u li

  Ezili mâdé kabrit dé pyé

  Kòté pul’prân pu ba-li

  Ezili kanlikan elu,

  Ah, what a hard loa (bis)

  Ezili you ask for a pig

  I will give you one

  Ezili, you ask for a goat with two feet

  Where could I get it, to give it to you.

  Marinette-bwa-chèch (Marinette of the dry arms), one of the most dreaded loa of the petro class, is particularly well-known to us thanks to the excellent monograph on her by Mme Odette Mennesson-Rigaud and M. Lorimer Denis.{56} She is a she-devil, the sworn servant of evil and agent for the underhand dealings of Kita who is, herself, an outstanding loa sorceress. The screech-owl is the emblem animal of Marinette—or it could be said Marinette is the screech-owl, since those who are possessed by her do ‘beak to earth’ (lower their heads), let their arms hang by their sides like wings and crook their fingers like claws. Marinette is particularly respected by werewolves who hold propitiatory ‘services’ for her whenever they need her help. She wanders through the woods and it is there, in secret places, that her servants come to leave their offerings. Being a stingy divinity, she goes there at night so that she need not share her food with any other loa.

  Worship of Marinette-bwa-chèch has not spread all over Haiti. At the time of my stay there, it was growing in the southern departments. Ceremonies in her honour are celebrated in open country under a tent. A huge fire is lit and petro l and salt are thrown into it. The hungan induces possession among the company by striking people with a red cloth. From the mouth of those she possesses Marinette confesses her crimes and boasts of the number of people she has ‘eaten’. Hungan and possessed alike finally throw themselves into the flames and stamp about till they have put them out. For sacrifice she gets chickens—which must be plucked alive—goats and black sows. These offerings have to be buried and no one may touch them. Marinette-bwa-chèch is the mistress of Petro-é-rouge, but also wife to Ti-Jean-pied-sec, known also as Ti-Jean-pied-fin, Prince Zandor, and Ti-Jean-Zandor; he is a little man dressed in red, who jumps about on one leg and perches at will on the tops of palm trees whence he keeps an eye on the roads and jumps on passers-by to kill them for food. To appreciate the violent and passionate nature of Jean Zandor I had only to study the expression and gestures of a woman possessed by him. With fixed and dilated eyes she walked slowly backwards, hands behind her back. When the drums were silent she sank to her knees beside the ditch, in which lay remains of a sacrifice, and began to fling her arms furiously from side to side as though she were prey to immeasurable grief. Then, crossing her arms on her breast, she bit them deeply. When small charges were detonated round her, she stretched her arms towards the smoke and plunging her head into the ditch, shook it with demented energy.

  Bakulu-baka, who drags chains behind him, is such a terrible spirit that no one dares to invoke him. And he himself possesses no one. His habitat is the woods. Offerings are taken to him there.

  The Mondong-mussai loa also form part of one of the many Congo groups; they are very well-known, even outside Voodoo circles, on account of an unusual custom in their cult; live dogs are offered to them so that they may bite the ends of their ears. Since they are evil spirits it is dangerous not to give them enough. At Marbial a family was cruelly punished for taking lightly a request from these Mondong, a child died and during the funeral a Mondong loa ‘came down’ into one of the relations and said that if he had only been offered some dog to eat the child would still be alive.

  This brief outline of Voodoo mythology would be incomplete if it did not include some mention of the Creole loa—products of the fanciful imagination of the people in Haiti. First we have Taureau-trois-graines (Bull with three testicles), ‘great loa.’ of the Jacmel region. His appearances are terrible. People possessed by him are seized with destructive rage and create havoc all round unless appeased by the offer of a handful of grass. This they munch at once. During trance they bellow ceaselessly. The Taureau is greeted with the following songs:

  M’tòro m’béglé (bis)

  Nâ savân mwê

  Sa m’wè la? Mwê sa

  Mwè béglé

  Tòro mwè tòro

  Sa ki mâdé pu mwê

  U a di o

  Mwê mèm kriminèl

  Tut fâmi mwê kiriminèl

  A ro â ro â ro

  Di yo mwê kriminèl

  I’m a bull, I bellow

  In my pastures

  What do I see? I see that

  I bellow

  Bull, I’m a bull

  Whoever asks for me

  You must tell him

  I’m a criminal

  My whole family are criminal

  High up high up high up

  Tell them I’m a criminal.

  The loa-taureaux are a family which includes Taureau-belecou and Ezili-taureau—both mooing and brutal spirits.

  The world of loa also has its divisions of nationality. Melle Chalotte and Dinclinsin are French ‘mysteries’. People possessed by them talk excellent French although in normal life they may not speak a word of it. Milo Rigaud,{57} who drew our attention to these seldom-seen loa, told us that Chalotte is ‘particular
’, that she ‘insists on the most refined form of ritualistic protocol’. When she speaks langage she expresses herself clumsily which at once gives away her non-African origin. As for Dinclinsin, he murders Creole like a typical foreigner. He may be recognized by his habit of putting any tafia offered to him straight into his pocket. And that is the last you see of it.

  The Krabinay loa, of the petro family, behave in a truly devilish way. Possessions induced by them are so violent that hunsi advise spectators to keep their distance. They are dressed in red and execute impressive leaps. They are tough and take pleasure in cynicism. However, they assist hungan in their hardest work and undertake treatment of desperate cases. As devils they avoid mentioning the name of God and declare they have no connection with Him. They admit they were created by Him, but say it was a favour they never required of Him. They take care not to go near images of St. Michael, the bane of demons.

  IV.—POSSESSION

  RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN SPIRITS AND MEN

  Intercourse between the visible and the invisible world is easy and constant. The loa communicate with the faithful either by incarnating themselves in one of them, who then becomes his mouthpiece, or by appearing to them in dreams, or in human form. Also priests and priestesses have the power of calling gods down into jars whence the gods converse with those who wish to question them.

  We shall deal first with the phenomenon of possession, or trance, which has a fundamental rôle in the framework of Voodoo.{58}

  The explanation of mystic trance given by disciples of Voodoo is simple: a loa moves into the head of an individual having first driven out ‘the good big angel’ (gros bon ange)—one of the two souls that everyone carries in himself. This eviction of the soul is responsible for the tremblings and convulsions which characterize the opening stages of trance. Once the good angel has gone the person possessed experiences a feeling of total emptiness as though he were fainting. His head whirls, the calves of his legs tremble; he now becomes not only the vessel but also the instrument of the god. From now on it is the god’s personality and not his own which is expressed in his bearing and words. The play of his features, his gestures and even the tone of his voice all reflect the temperament and character of the god who has descended upon him. The relationship between the loa and the man seized is compared to that which joins a rider to his horse. That is why a loa is spoken of as ‘mounting’ or ‘saddling’ his chual (horse). Possession being closely linked with dancing, it is also thought of in terms of a spirit ‘dancing in the head of his horse’. It is also an invasion of the body by a supernatural spirit; hence the often-used expression: ‘the loa is seizing his horse’.