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Oyimbo Diary: Chapter 5
In the summer of 2006, Rainer Doost and his wife Valeria Watson-Doost spend three weeks in Nigeria as house guest of Chief Ifagbenusola Atanda. In this series of 9 weekly installments Rainer a videographer will share his experiences in words and video.
Offering of the bulls
Today the temple is bustling with preparations for the Osun Festival and Baba's birthday party. Two bulls lay hog tied in front of the house. The two women who regularly prepare our food in the tiny kitchen have several new helpers. They are working in an outdoor kitchen stirring huge pots suspended over fires. In the living room there are constantly new visitors conferring with Baba, that is when he isn’t on the cell phone receiving calls from all over globe. I am often frustrated sitting and waiting for hours until he can pry himself free to go. He will say be ready to go at such and such a time only to leave us waiting hours on end for him to get dressed, eat, finish with a visitor or complete telephone commitments. As an important man in a patriarchy, he takes it for granted that people wait on and for him and appears to have no idea how that can bug Americans. At the same time, he goes to great lengths to accommodate every wish we express.
Early in the afternoon, men arrive to butcher the bulls. One of the bulls is a first year anniversary offering of the recently arrived American Ifa priestess. Getting the two bulls to the butchering area just outside the rear gate is not easy. The whole neighborhood is at the gate to watch the event. I steel my nerves so I will be able to keep my camera focused on the life force offering. The animals are thrown to the ground and tied. The Iyanifa and Baba pray over them before the throats are cut. As their life ebbs, the bulls’ blood flows in beautiful contrast around the bodies.
Next, to our utter amazement, the men pour kerosene on the carcasses and set them on fire thereby burning of the fur. The skin is scrapped and washed and soon the bodies take on an almost golden color. The carcasses are dragged back into our compound and the work of cutting them up begins. Meanwhile guests begin to arrive and wind their way up the circular stairs going up to the third floor roof patio and large temple room. Tables and chairs have converted he space into a huge dinning room. Over the next several hours’ guests stream in to eat and converse. I’m concerned that the guests might be offended by this lone white man roving about with a camcorder and only grab a couple of shots. I am glad that I get a brief shot of the Ibeji, twins. Ibeji play an important role in Yoruba culture and these two are priests of Osun.
World Orisha Congress meeting
Today Baba, Valeria and I set off to the World Orisha Congress meeting. Baba’s mission in life is to gain support and respect for traditional Yoruba culture and religion.
It is a sad fact that Islam and Christianity have almost eradicated this ancient monotheistic religion. I call it religious colonialism. I spend eight years in the US Indian Health System and witnessed Native Americans struggling to re-discover their traditions in university achieves. Is this to be the fate of Africans in Africa?
Nigeria has holidays for the religions of the conquerors, Islam and Christianity. However, there are no such recognized holidays for Isense the religion of the Yoruba. It is the legacy of colonialism; it defined Orisa worship as devil worship. The names of cities, states and rivers through out southern Nigeria give silent testimony to the pre-colonial status of the religion. It also is the religion of that is at the base of indigenous worship through out the nations of West Africa. In the Americas, well known derivatives are Lucumi, Santeria, Shango and Vodun.
So here we were at the Nigerian chapter meeting of the World Orisa Congress. Baba insisted that as his guest we sit with him and the leading dignitaries. Unfortunately most of the discussion was in Yoruba and only occasionally in English. The agenda was on how to get the government to establish the first religious holiday for Isense.
A national television crew was covering the event. We felt a bit uncomfortable, as outsiders, to claim such prominence but I suspect that Baba wanted to show the meeting as attracting international attention. I also figured it would not hurt to been in the news for our next important meeting.
Success! Orisa World Universal Day, August 20, 2008 is the first modern day official recognition of the Orisa as a holiday for practitioners in Nigeria. I plan to be there, with my camera of course, to participate in the celebration with Awos from across the globe.
When we get back to the temple there are three new arrivals from the US. One is an Ifa priestess returning for her one-year anniversary. The other two are here for their initiations. Tonight one will initiated to Osun and then next week we will return to Lagos where both will initiate to Ifa.
Over the next few days, I learn the story of these two. They have been friends for some time. Both have been the victims of unscrupulous US based Babalawos. They have incurrent never-ending charges mounting into the tens of thousands while being kept ignorant and dependant. To me, this has become an all to familiar story of fear and exploitation. Baba stands in such bright contrast. He is always teaching, explaining and welcomes questions. I am struck that of the by now six foreigners Valeria and I ask most questions and fall into easy conversations with Baba. The other all have had exposure to authoritarian settings where questions and discussion were discouraged. After a while, it dawns on me that most Babalawos in the U.S. have not had contact with the motherland and in fact don’t know the origins and meanings of rituals and prayers and that may be why they resort to the old authoritarian dictum of the ignorant “Don’t ask questions, just do what I say.” Baba on the other hand is a scholar and loves to share his deep knowledge.
Valeria has been experiencing stomach cramps, towards evening they get worst and she has to stay near the toilet. She will have to miss tonight’s Osun initiation.
Over the next three days I participate in this new Osun initiation. While I’m busy with the initiation Valeria is in bed with severe diarrhea. Seji tries at first to treat her with hydrating solutions but finally has to resort to antibiotics. Baba also frequently checks in on her. I’m very sorry; she so much wants to be part of all that is going on. I should be the sick one. Fortunately, the day before the Osun Festival she is back on her feet.
An aside
Baba always employs local videographers to record the public part of initiations so that the initiates will have a record of this once in a lifetime experience. I’m pretty sure he does not realize that the locals use cameras that record in the PAL system and the results will not play on American machines which use the NTSC system. Transfer from one system to the other is possible but not readily available and result in a degradation of quality. Of the three local cameramen that I meet only one, Kunle, has a reasonably up to date digital camcorder while the others use dated VHS cameras. For the last couple of days Kunle, who speaks English, has been recording. He is a trained accountant who can’t get a job so he does video work. I really like him and end up depending on his tapes for my final documentary. Getting them transferred to NTSC ends up being a real hassle but the footage, although technically inferior, is priceless to me. He has a good eye for composition and as a local can move about with ease. When I go back to Nigeria I will try to hire him to run a second NTSC camera for me.
Ancestor Veneration
Valeria and I are the first ones down to breakfast. Baba is there and invites us to com with him. Today is the day for his ancestor veneration. He is dressed in rich golden yellow; magnificent is the only word that describes him. Valeria and I scramble to dress and get my camera gear. Kunle joins us as we set of to pick up his mother and aunt at Laro Street. From there we drive to his maternal great grand mother’s house. It is she who claimed him as her heir and raised and pampered him till her death when he was eight. It is her lineage more than his father that is at the base of the status of his family in the community.
Several Babalawos, trailing a goat, meet us at this old family compound. We have some difficulty unlocking the ancient door that leads to an inner court yard containing a roofed crypt. The white marble crypt, inscribed in Arabic, suggesting it is an Islamic grave. It bears testimony to a time when traditional spiritual practices had to avoid public light.
A senior Babalawo, a gentle soul, officiates. The ground is wet from rain. He prepares the ground pouring gin and palm oil. He touches whole kola nuts to Baba’s forehead before breaking them open and casting the pieces. It is called casting Obi, and is a way of communicating with the spirit world. He and Baba carefully note the patterns each time the Obi is cast. Eventually a favorable result is reached. Baba takes out prayer money and combines it with money contributed by his mother and aunt. They each pray for some time in Yoruba. Baba switches his praying into English and calls on Osunyemi, Valeria Watson-Doost to offer a prayer. I am impressed by her thoughtful prayer offering.
The goat is tied and the three family members touch their heads to it and offer a brief prayer before its throat is cut and the blood flows onto the ground where it mixes with Oti, clear liquor usually gin, and palm oil. Once more Obi is cast to determine if the offering has been accepted. Then we exit and go back to the van. A waiting second goat is loaded into the cargo space and we set of to Baba’s father’ crypt. It is in front of his house occupied by his descendants. The family members in the house join us and a similar process of veneration takes place. Our last stop this day is Baba’s grand mothers grave which is on the patio of Laro Street.
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