When a cultivator organized a konbit, he sought out the most reliable workers. He would prepare so as to make the best use of everybody. The peasants would trade their days to each other. So, if I worked for your konbit, then you would work for mine in turn. Each person needed to work well in order to expect the same of the others.
The inhabitants controlled their days and their work. No one had a clock or a watch. They wouldn’t have had the time to check a watch. The shadows that the sun cast were the hands of their clock. By following the trajectory of the sun across the sky, they knew how much time remained in their workday.
Their horses were reliable means of transport if they had to travel outside of their community. The river was their source of life. It offered them clean water whenever they needed it. They bathed in it and used it for cleaning. The springs offered pure drinking water.
Peasant life was simple on the surface. But if we dig a little, we find an infinitely complex world. So, let’s dig.
In his youth, my father, Deland, was impressed by the nice clothes that people wore. He wanted to be a tailor. He shared this goal with his young friends: “Someday, I’m going to learn how to sew and I’ll make nice clothes for us all.” Such a goal separated my father from most of the other peasants. He didn’t renounce the cultivation of the land, but he wanted to master tailoring as well. Few of the peasants dreamed of mastering another skill along with agriculture.
Deland was motivated to succeed as a tailor for a number of reasons. His parents were separated and his mother was raising her five children alone. Not only did he want to make her proud but he hoped that if he was a successful tailor, her stature would be elevated. People would say, “There goes Suzanne. She is the mother of a fine tailor.” She too encouraged Deland. Parents who raised a child who contributed something useful to the community were respected. Deland wanted to help his mother Suzanne; she wanted to help him. When he became a respected tailor, each would be helping the other.
In my father’s youth, all the young people in the community worked hard in the fields every day. Sometimes they courted while working together. At night, the young men would gather together and if someone had a flashlight, they could travel around to visit the young women. The parents did not prohibit these nightly visits, except where a youth had a bad reputation. In that case, they refused to allow their daughter to see him. Reputations counted for a lot. Each family tried to maintain its good name by respecting their responsibilities to the community. It took only one member to behave badly for the entire family to lose its reputation. And so people watched their own behaviour and that of their relatives.
Even when two young people fell in love, the final decision about their marriage belonged to the parents. Timid boys could escape the fear of approaching the object of their attraction by asking their parents to arrange a meeting. In fact, it was a perfectly legitimate and respectable way to court a young woman. The parents would get together to discuss the practicality of the marriage. If one set of parents had an objection to the union, they would stop the courtship before it started. Otherwise, they would arrange for the youths to meet.
Families that had been marked as thieves as a result of the actions of only one member, or those who were known for domestic violence, had a difficult time finding partners for their children. This was not a local custom; it was similar in all the departments of Haiti.
Parents in local communities would watch the youths closely as they grew. They noticed boys who were lazy and unreliable and girls who were untidy and rebellious. Arrogance and disrespect were also unattractive attributes. Infidelity in girls was especially badly viewed; virginity was highly regarded. If a family knew that their daughter had already had sexual relations with a man and the parents of a courtier should arrive with a serious offer, it was best to acknowledge the truth. If they lied, the entire family could lose its status and possibly be required to compensate the family that had been misled. However, if a youth seduced a young woman with promises of marriage that he renounced the moment that his sexual desires had been satisfied, the family could hold him responsible. If they succeeded, not only would he be imprisoned, but the young woman would have her reputation restored. Sometimes, a family had no interest in the courts but would accept nothing short of marriage. If the young seducer refused, he might find himself the object of magic that could result in his death.
Sometimes, parents could take note of a young man whom they considered an especially good catch for their daughter. They could take the lead in the affair, courting the young man in the place of their daughter, doing what they could to bring them together. Young men would be very cautious in these circumstances, knowing that magic could be used not only to avenge a seducer, but to assure a seduction. When he entered the home of a family that he suspected of trying to entice him into courting their daughter, a young man was cautious about every move. If he sat on a hexed chair or drank from a charmed cup, he knew that he might fall under a spell designed to bend his will.
Parents could use sorcery directly on their daughter so that a certain man would be overtaken by desire when his eyes fell upon her. On the other side of the ledger, young men who were maladroit or timid could use enchanted perfumes to make them irresistible to the object of their desire.
Deland did not come from an intellectual family. But his mother taught him what was important: respect for others — especially his elders, working for peace in the community, and helping people in trouble. Deland lived up to her standards. He learned from her that the most important principle in life is to help others. He believed that good actions would always, somehow and eventually, be repaid.
I remember times when I personally saw how Dad put into practice the lessons that his mother had taught him. Once, my father was in a state hospital visiting my brother James who had had a serious accident. I was on the way to meet them, a few minutes away from the hospital. Inside was a young man who was in a terrible state. On top of whatever sickness he had, he had pooped his pants. He sat on a bed in utter humiliation as the patients and visitors in the ward distanced themselves from him, making theatrical gestures to register the smell and their disgust. My cellphone rang. My father said, “Come quickly, my Godson, we have a job to do here.” I hurried to meet him. He was helping the hapless young man remove his soiled pants. I started to assist and was overtaken by a need to vomit that I successfully resisted. But my father kept working until the young man was cleaned. I saw that his hands were covered with the young man’s feces. It didn’t bother Dad. When everyone else had rejected the young man and added to his humiliation, my father acted in love without any hesitation. He was always like that.
This kindness marked Deland in everyone’s eyes. In his youth, all of the parents of Saut d’Eau aspired to have their daughters marry someone like Deland.
In his travels in Saut d’Eau, young Deland found himself visiting the family of Cécile Robert, of whom he was very fond. But he was deflated when he thought of how her family was better off than his own. He decided to stop visiting, but without explaining why to either Cécile or her parents.
But Cécile’s parents had been impressed by Deland. One day, they confronted Cécile severely, saying “What has happened to the young man who used to visit us? What have you done?”
“I have no idea. He didn’t say anything. He just stopped coming.”
When Cécile next saw Deland, she told him that her parents were holding her responsible for his sudden disappearance. Deland was too ashamed to discuss it. But Cécile insisted. She said that she refused to leave until she had an explanation. Finally, Deland was forced to explain. She was surprised. She had heard nothing from her parents but praise for Deland. Now, he was telling her that he had withdrawn on purpose because he judged himself unworthy.
“In any case, I’m going to explain the situation to them just as you have told me. I don’t intend to be thought of as an accomplice in this,” she said.
The Roberts were as surpris
ed as Cécile had been. Finally, they told Cécile to bring Deland to them. Bashfully and against his will, Deland came. He felt that it would have been a sign of disrespect to refuse.
“Deland, we are not looking for wealth. From the first time you visited us, we could see in you the results of the education that your parents have tried to instill. Money does not make a man. We think that wisdom and goodwill are the most valuable traits and that they always take a man in the right direction.”
As usual, the Roberts were respectful. They seemed to have already chosen Deland for their son-in-law. They invited him to dine with them. Then, in a small sack, they packed rice, beans, and avocados to take home for his mother. They had a couple of their young sons accompany Deland back to his home, another sign of respect and goodwill.
When he arrived home, his mother was overjoyed by the gift. Her land was planted, but it wasn’t ready to be harvested. So, the bounty from the Roberts assured that the Déralciné family would eat well that evening. Later, when her harvest had come in, she sent to the Roberts a healthy package of her produce.
One day, Deland told Cécile, “We must hypnotize our parents. You must do everything possible so that my mother sees you as her own daughter, and I’ll make sure your parents call me their son.”
The two families started to collapse into one. Sometimes, Cécile would come by to do the laundry for her future mother-in-law. Deland responded by helping Mr. Roberts in his fields. They started to turn their marriage into an inevitability.
Meanwhile, Deland followed his dream to be a tailor. He encouraged Cécile to learn to be a dressmaker. In that way, together, they would be able to clothe both sexes. They both committed their time to develop their skills. They were taught by other cultivators skilled in the needle trade. Sometimes, Deland told his mentor, “If sometimes you have some work to do in your garden, you only have to ask me and I’ll help out.”
The cultivator judged that Deland was ambitious. He decided to hide none of his skills from Deland. He taught him all of the little techniques that he usually kept to himself.
As Deland was spending more time learning his new trade, he had less time to work his mother’s fields. She was working harder. Deland’s sisters were taking care of the domestic chores. But with less produce from the fields, there was no surplus to pay the cultivator who was mentoring Deland in tailoring.
Normally, Suzanne took the harvest from the family’s land to the market to sell. She would load up her mule with the produce and lead him to the local market where, like the other peasant merchants, she laid it out on the ground for sale. This was the only activity that brought cash into her household. It was with that money that she paid Deland’s tailoring teacher. The problem was that, without Deland’s help, there was less to sell and less time to sell it.
Finally, because of these sacrifices on everyone’s part, Deland came to master his skills. Cécile, for her part, made much progress as a dressmaker. Sometimes, they sat together to share the techniques that they were learning independently. Deland was eventually able to sew both men’s and women’s clothes.
July 16 is a great fête in Saut d’Eau. Haitians come from all over the country. Even members of the diaspora — Haitians who have emigrated to other countries — come back to Saut d’Eau. For Vodouists, July 16 is the most important date of the year, and Saut d’Eau is the spiritual centre of the celebration.
What Haitians celebrate on July 16 depends on their point of view. Both Vodouist and Catholic Haitians converge on Saut d’Eau at the same time for their shared but distinct celebrations. Vodouists celebrate at the waterfalls and Catholics in the local church. Why should there be two versions of one event?
While the Vodouists congregate at the waterfalls, the Catholic church in Saut d’Eau overflows with Haitians from all over. In the church are statues of the Virgin Mary. Several stories circulate about the origin of the miracle that occurred in the middle of the nineteenth century. Some say that the form of the Virgin appeared in a rock. Others say that she appeared in the leaves of a palm tree. Still others say that it was in the bark of a tree. In any case, while the Vodouists commune with the spirits at the waterfalls, the Catholics come to the church to ask the Virgin for help. Others lay bouquets of flowers at her feet in thanks for prayers that she has already fulfilled. There are different ways to ask the Virgin Mary for services. The church has built a special room so that, for fifty gourdes ($1.10 US), the faithful can light candles to Mary.
At the waterfalls, the Vodouists parley with the spirits. They bathe in the water under the falls. I was marked once by the sight of a young woman who disrobed and entered the water under the falls. Soon, a lwa — a Vodou spirit — entered her and took control of her body. She writhed violently under the power of the lwa. Another woman came to help her to the shore, worrying that she was in danger of drowning, or being drowned by the lwa.
Spirits surround us all. When we idolize material things, we open ourselves up to be possessed by the spirits that can inhabit them. Anything and everything. Our obsessions and idols can make us vulnerable to the lwa. Once possessed, a person ties his life to the spirit. It is very easy to become possessed by a lwa, extremely difficult to liberate yourself.
The lwa look for our weaknesses. We allow ourselves to be possessed. For instance, the Vodouists who come every year to Saut d’Eau light their candles at the trunks of the huge trees all around the falls. They pray to the trees. So many people participate in this practice that the trunks of the trees have become dangerously thin. They are diminished by the fires of the countless candles that burn all around them. Currently, the trunks are unequal to the weight that they have to support, for the trees are mature and stretch to the top of the waterfalls. Some people idolize the trees, obsessed by the need to light the candles. But, in doing so, they can put themselves and others in danger of being injured or killed by a falling tree. The lwa that inhabit the trees have entered those who idolize them. Once they allow themselves to be taken over by the lwa, people can fall victim to the very thing that they adore. Trees are one example. The lwa can use anything at all to gain entry and to control the life of a person: money, alcohol, drugs, fame, the search for youth, pride, material possessions, and so on. Whenever we begin to idolize something, we become vulnerable. We stay free by refusing the temptations that allow lwa to enter us.
The main difference between the Catholic and Vodouist worshippers is their social class. The Vodouists celebrate outside in the waterfalls, the Catholics inside a big building. The Catholics are better dressed, but the spiritual practices are indivisible. The Virgin Mary in the Catholic Church is the lwa Erzulie Dantor at the waterfalls.
The Church did all it could to keep itself untouched and superior to the unrefined Vodouists who made such spectacles of themselves. The Catholic authorities insisted that the Virgin Mary was legitimate and her appearance in the nineteenth century a real miracle. The civilized priests resented sharing their symbols with the savages. But the Catholic followers could not always see the difference. Many of the pilgrims went from the church to the waterfalls. Only the snobs refused to see the connection.
My family was, at the same time, both Vodouist and Catholic. Where my grandmother lived, there were four other houses, or kay. In those kay lived her mother, her son and his wife, her eldest daughters and my father. As was the custom, once he reached his twenties, Deland began constructing his future home in the courtyard. The courtyard where the extended family lives is called the lakou in Creole. Since my family were Vodouists, they served a lwa. In the lakou was (and is) a huge fig tree. The lwa that my family served lives in that tree and so my family used to perform ceremonies at its trunk. They would sacrifice animals there, for instance.
The lwa had helped them in different ways. It cured a child with a mystical sickness; it helped their crops grow; and it assured abundant harvests. Their success as cultivators provoked the jealousy of some of the other peasants. The resources were limited and so, for our c
rops to flourish, our lwa had to sap the strength from other fields. Even if my family members were ignorant of the actual methods that their lwa was using, the other peasants understood what was happening. Their crops were floundering while ours thrived. But my family was unable to counter the actions of its lwa. In fact, it was a disturbing sign that the lwa began to steal from others to enrich us. It is known that a lwa fattens its servitors before devouring them. My family was being threatened by its success.
The day came when our lwa was ready to take its restitution. Deland’s elder sister awoke as usual on the morning of July 16, the day of the great celebration in Saut d’Eau. She went to the Catholic church and then proceeded to the waterfalls for the Vodouist part of the celebration. She spent several hours bathing in the waters and then started to return home. Normally, young peasant women buy things from street merchants for the family meal. She intended to buy pastries, mints, biscuits, and some marinad, a kind of seasoned dumpling fried in oil. But when she came out of the water, she was already mad. Instead of buying food, she filled her basket with inedible leaves that she collected randomly. When she arrived home, her mother looked in the basket and was stupefied.
Rocks in the Water, Rocks in the Sun: A Memoir from the Heart of Haiti Page 2