Sur le morne lointain

Enjoy a poem by Oswald Durand with Vodou as a central theme. It certainly features an interesting use of repetition and rhythm

Sur le morne lointain, semé de blanches cases,
Le tambour qui rugit le chant mystérieux
Du magique vaudoux, aux divines extases,
Où l’on immole un bouc, où l’on brise des vases,
Enivre les papas, qui battent, furieux,
Le tambour qui rugit le champ mystérieux
Sur le morne lointain, semé de blanches cases.

En sons sourds, sibyllins, du gosier des sambas,
L’improvisation pleurant les dieux antiques,
Réveille les vieux morts qui gémissent là-bas,
Et guide les danseurs dans leurs lascifs ébats.
Les adeptes fervents écoutent, frénétiques,
L’improvisation pleurant les dieux antiques,
En sons sourds, sibyllins, du gosier des sambas.

Dans le fond où Legba gouverne les yeux mornes,
[73] Au pied du saint autel qu’entourent les houncis,
Dont les lugubres chants s’entendent dans les mornes,
On conduit le bouc noir, le bouc à quatre cornes,
Qui penche son front ceint de rubans cramoisis,
Au pied du saint autel qu’entourent les houncis,
Dans le fond où Legbas gouverne les yeux mornes.

Une sainte terreur emplit le lieu divin.
On ne voit que l’éclair de la mortelle lame.
Pour plaire au dieu vaudoux, le grand prêtre devin
Donne à boire aux élus le rhum mêlé de vin,
Brise le vase rouge et fait envoler l’âme…
On ne voit que l’éclair de la mortelle lame…
— Une sainte terreur emplit le lieu divin.

Sur le morne lointain semé de blanches cases,
Toujours le tambour dit le chant mystérieux.
Mais l’antique vaudoux, aux magiques extases,
Plus n’égorge le bouc, plus ne brise les vases.
Les papas ne sont plus, qui battent, furieux,
Le tambour qui rugit le chant mystérieux
Sur le morne lointain, semé de blanches cases.

3 Dominicans, a Puerto Rican and Vodou

Las bailarinas de judú en la calle Santa Ana

by Juan Antonio Alix

A ¡os amigos Domingo Russo y
Ventura Silverio, Ciudad.

Cumplíendo con sus deberes
La señora policía,
Ayer como a mediodía
Sorprendió cuatro mujeres
Que bailaban con placeres
El judú con un haitiano
Que también le echaron mano
Y lo tienen en chirona,
Porque esa buena persona
Del judú es buen hermano.

En la calle ‘Santa Ana”
Allí fué la fiesta armada,
Pero que a puerta cerrada
Celebraban su bacana.
Y como costumbre haitiana
El baile tuvo lugar,
Delante de un altar
Cubierto de lamparitas,

--------------
(1) A última hora hemos sabido que
el baile judú tuvo lugar en la calle de
la “Victoria” y no en la de “Santa Ana”.

Con siete mechas toditas
Para más iluminar.

Y unos infelices santos
En dicho altar se encontraban,
Y aquel baile presenciaban
Sin cubrirlos con sus mantos.

Y al son del tambor y cantos,
Bailarinas y gazones
Hacían miles contorsiones
Pero el chans, o proserpina~,
Atacó a una bailarina
Con muy crueles convulsiones.

También en aquel altar
Había un plátano asadó,
Maíz y maní tostado,
Pimienta y sal de la mar.
Y en ese mismo lugar
Encontró la policía,
Una lata que tenía
Agua verde y tan hedionda,
Que con repugnancia honda
El público la veía.

Entre dichas bailarinas
Había tres dominicanas,
Fragatas de cuatro andanas,
Y con buenas culebrinas.

La otra es de las vecinas
De la tierra borinqueña,
Corbeta puertorriqueña
De cien cañones por banda
Que por estos trigos anda
Alegre y siempre risueña.

El gran musié del judú
O ya sea el gran papá,
Es un tal musié Grambuá,
De la societé D’Otrú.
Pájaro muy lugarú
Y gran profesor haitiano,
De ese fandango africano
Que se nos mete de lleno;
Y si no hay Gobierno bueno
Adiós pueblo quisqueyano!

Al fin comeremos gente, si Dios no
mete su mano.

Santiago, Julio 30 de 1904. 

Aubin and Haitian Vodou

Eugene Aubin's En Haïti; planteurs d'autrefois, nègres d'aujourd'hui is quite valuable for its portrayal of Haitian Vodou of the early 20th century. Although Aubin's experience at hounfort and with Vodou priests and priestesses was closer to those in the plains and other regions near Port-au-Prince, his observations and conversations with Vodouisants provide some interesting insights on the religion. This is so in spite of Aubin's view of Vodou as a resurgence of African superstition. Regardless of Aubin's own biases, there's a useful account of the various lwa here and some of their attributes. For instance, the association of Saugo with lightning (probably Shango), or characteristics of Ogou, Loko, Legba, Agwe, Dambala, and other lwa appear in Aubin's travelogue. Furthermore, practices of pilgrimage in Vodou and Catholic elements with the use of prayers, chromolithographs of saints, and the fusion of Vodou and Catholic features in centers of Marian devotion were already deeply established. 

One valuable revelation from Aubin's account is the still strong distinction between papaloi and houngan. The houngan, according to Aubin, was still more akin to a sorcerer or the modern bocor. That said, Vodou was still, when Aubin traveled through Haiti, based in the family. The head of the family was the one who led the group in the service to ancestors, particularly through the manger-ignames ceremonies. Nonetheless, the greater wealth in the plains and the rise of papaloi whose services were purchased (for hundreds of gourdes, depending on the service) from clients drawn from Port-au-Prince and the countryside attests to the development of temples, extended networks, and more elaborate hounfort featuring a combination of various rites (Arada, Congo, etc). Clearly, by this date, the papaloi-houngan distinction was losing some of its significance.

One finds this development in Aubin's discussion of some of the prominent papaloi and manbo he met or heard of in Haiti. For instance, Romulus Jacques, or Aisse, a reputable Vodou priest from la Petite Plaine near the capital, came from a family of Vodou priests, was a renowned papaloi who followed the Arada rite. Serving Dambala, Agwe, Ogou Badagry, and Loco, his temple had an inscription referring to Roi d'Engole. So, there was some hint of "Congo" connections from his temple. Moreover, Aubin found old coins at Aisse's temple left for the lwa, which included coinage from the late 18th century as well as Haitian currency from the presidency of Boyer. This amazing mix of coinage from over a century ago could be an indicator of the age of the hounfort. If so, Aisse's temple may have begun with someone in his family from the beginning of Haitian independence.

Another renowned Vodou priest, Manbo Zera Vieux, was also consulted in Port-au-Prince and in L'eau de Cazeau. She was married to a military man who was the son of Cadeau Bois, the head of a hounfort on the road to Petionville.  Aurelien Bernard, another respected papaloi, was based at du Mornay-Laboule. Both of his parents were Vodou priests and he observed both the Guinee and Congo rites, each rite with a separate section. Part of his Congo ritual practices involved pacquet Congos and the use of Catholic chromolithographs. Besides these, a manbo named Tela from the Bellot family of habitation Le Francois was also well-known. Her father was a houngan and the family held 2 temples, one dedicated to the Arada rites and Dambala and another for Congo and Nago rites. Clearly, by this time, Vodou prominent religious leaders held sufficient knowledge of a number of rites of Central African and West African origins. These aforementioned leaders came from families of manbos and papalois, yet notice how, per Aubin, their services were sought by a far-ranging clientele and their services could cost hundreds of gourdes. 

As part of the growing specialization of Vodou religion, Aubin additionally noted some of the other politically connected papalois. One, a Durolien of Croix-des-Missions, was the papaloi of President Hyppolite. Ti-Plaisir of Mariani, or Plaisimond, was another Vodou leader with significant economic resources and political connections. Indeed, a picture of his houmfort is featured in Aubin's book. It's painted exterior and the wealth of its leader must have made it a more impressive temple than smaller temples or family-centered cult spaces in the hills. Indeed, Ti-Plaisir's service in honor of Agwe included a large procession with hounsis and others. This type of elaborate service with drapeau, societies and titles, hefty fees for services, and political connections at the Presidential Palace attest to the high status of Ti-Plaisir. Indeed, Ti-Plaisir was considered by Milo Rigaud to be one of the famous papaloi, fictionalizing his life for a character in his novel thinly based on Haiti under Borno. 

Religion and Politics in Haiti

A collection of 2 essays by Harold Courlander and Remy Bastien, published as Religion and Politics in Haiti in 1966, presents an interesting moment in the study of Vodou and politics. Written at a time of economic malaise and authoritarian rule by Papa Doc, both Courlander and Bastien present Vodou in a provocative fashion. To Courlander, whose studies of Haiti always struck us as superficial, Vodou is not to be blamed for the woes of Haiti. Indeed, Vodou was actually something that represented a complete worldview and ethos for the Haitian masses. Due to the extreme poverty and precariousness of life for the Haitian peasant, Vodou offered something lacking in Catholicism and it continued to play such a pivotal role due to ongoing governmental neglect, incompetence, and exploitation. 

Bastien, a Haitian, offered a more extreme position. Indeed, Bastien went as far as accusing the Haitian ethnological movement of a trahison des clercs. Instead of dedicating themselves to the betterment of their illiterate brothers trapped in backwards, regressive living conditions and a magico-religious worldview disconnected from modernity, the Haitian intellectual sought to make Vodou (and folklore) the pillar of Haitian identity and authenticity. According to Bastien, these Haitian intellectuals, followers of the school of Price-Mars, lacked the brakes necessary to stop their extremism. So, unlike the situation in sub-Saharan Africa, the Haitian ethnologists took things too far and neglected their ultimate responsibility of ameliorating conditions for the Haitian peasantry. 

Of course, Bastien's brief essay is excessive itself, especially in light of the writings of Haitian ethnologists like Price-Mars which directly concerned social inequality and the failure of Haiti's elite. However, one can also see the justness of Bastien's critique at a time when Vodou had become another institution corrupted or controlled by Francois Duvalier. By 1966, at least in Bastien's eyes, Vodou had become part of the oppressive panoply of Duvalierism's toolbox of administration. Furthermore, Vodou was incompatible with the types of modern change, education, healthcare, and poverty eradication that Bastien believed was necessary. No houngan would sponsor or support these aforementioned reforms since their achievement would, in Bastien's perspective, defeat the purpose of the houngan's existence in the first place. This characterization of the houngan is unfair, or at least lacking the evidence for such a broad generalization. Nonetheless, the Haitian religion was, by then, a product of long-term marginalization and growing impoverishment of the Haitian. Consequently, Vodou reflected those regressive conditions of living and would be threatened by progressive changes in the Haitian countryside. Indeed, the Vodou of 1966 or even 1915 was far from the conditions of 1791. Instead of fetishizing folklore and Vodou, Haiti's intellectuals should have devoted themselves more passionately to the question of bringing the peasantry into the 20th century. 

Papa Lauco

We are loving the Haitian Art Society website. Their site features several paintings by Hector Hyppolite we have not seen before. While Hyppolite is not our favorite Haitian painter, some of his works are quite striking and fascinating for those interested in Haitian Vodou. The above, depicting Papa Loko, is a good example of this.

Vodou at the Field Museum

I recently saw the Vodou exhibit at the Field Museum with a friend. My friend is a grad student specializing in Haitian history, so she was the perfect companion to an exhibit on Haiti. We were both underwhelmed (assuming I can be so presumptuous as to speak for her). Certainly designed for people with absolutely no knowledge of Haitian Vodou, the exhibit was overall a useful introduction to many of the key concepts, values, spirits, and history of the religion. There were several different examples of Vodou art, music, ceremonies, and altars for visitors to observe. While we could not speak for all the guests, it seems like some came out of the exhibit actually learning to see Vodou as a religion. My friend, however, was probably right about several visitors retaining their perception of the faith as "exotic."

Houngan from 1900

This fascinating photograph from ca. 1900 is of a Haitian houngan found on Contemporary Haitian Art Facebook page. No source is given, but it is supposedly from 1900. It's interesting how the artwork depicted on the temple resembles later Haitian art of the 20th century, which I believe reveals how influential Vodou and its artistic history has been on the 'masters,' like Obin. 

El general haitiano en marcha

General haitiano en marcha, caricature of a Haitian general from a Dominican newspaper in 1845, the year after secession from Haiti. Though ambiguous in whether it is pro- or anti-Haitian, the artist seemingly knows something about the usual images of Ogou/Ogun/Ogunde, a lwa associated with the military. Note how the general, though dressed in sandals, is proudly en marcha with French military-styled dress but carries fish, plantains, and maize as tribute, manje lwa, for Ogou.The dog he forces to follow him on leash may represent the eastern half of Hispaniola, or perhaps another allusion to the god of war, Ogou. Many Haitian artists depict Ogou in a remarkably similar way, smoking tobacco, carrying food, a saber, and, dressed in military gear. A painting by Andre Pierre, painter and houngan, depicts a remarkably similar Ogoun Badagry in the 20th century, as noted by others. Sara Johnson's Fear of French Negroes was the main source for this post. 

Black Madonna: Loa Erzulie

Here is the Black Madonna of Czestochowska, Poland

 Erzulie by Gerard Valcin

Veve

Catholic European Christian iconography and art clearly influenced Haitian art and popular religion. The image of the Black Madonna could have disseminated in Haiti with the presence of Polish soldiers in the French army sent to reconquer the land under Napoleon's brother-in-law. Of course the spread of the Black Madonna image could have also arose from later Catholic influences in Haiti after the Vatican finally recognized the nation in the mid-19th century or during several Church-run "anti-superstition" campaigns against Haitians who practiced Vodou. Regardless, it's a fascinating example of how art and ideas transcend race, gender, and religious lines. Scholars disagree on the Black Madonnas of Christian Europe, but it's appearance in Haitian religious practice and art demonstrates how individuals and peoples borrow ideas and reinterpret them. Thus, the Catholic Virgin becomes a spirit of sexuality and love in Haitian Vodou.