Candomblé

Mateo and I went to a candomblé ceremony last night. This ceremony is the central activity in the spiritist religions that were practiced by the original African slaves that were brought to work on the sugar plantations of colonial Brazil.

It was definitely interesting. Rose pedals were spread around the floor in a large room dominated by a huge altar, flanked by images of both Catholic saints and Candomblé spirits. The religion as practiced in modern-day Brazil is actually a big mixture of elements from African religions and Catholicism. The slaves, although forced to "convert" to Catholicism by their Portuguese owners, recognized the basic personalities of their gods in the Catholic saints, and by mixing the two they found a way to continue their traditional practices while ingratiating their masters.

The procession of Candomblé priests (called Fathers and Mothers of Saints) shuffled into the room, swaying to the beat of the drums that announced their entrance. They then started bowing to each other and kissing each others' hands, in a ritual that looked like it was meant to reinforce the hierarchy of the group. For several hours they danced and chanted, always moving around the room in a large circle.

A few highlights: this one black guy with dreadlocks was "possessed" at one point and started screaming really loudly and kind of convulsing. A lady sat him down on a bench and apparently calmed him down. It reminded me actually of things I've seen in charismatic congregations in the U.S., with people being "slain in the spirit" and whatnot.

Another interesting thing was the presence of recording devices. We were told that photographs and filming were absolutely prohibited during the ceremony, that this would be a grave offense to their religion. Well, when we got there there was a cameraman with a big over-the-shoulder camera, and a number of people busted out their digital cameras and camcorders once they saw that no one was going to get mad at them. Apparently the gods were able to communicate with the faithful despite all this technology.

I had an epiphany during the ceremony that in retrospect should be just painfully obvious. The candomblé priests were doing a movement where they prostrate themselves on the ground in a quick forward movement, supporting their upper body with their hands and slowly lowering their heads to the floor, in this case to kiss the feet of another priest, only to whip upright again in an elegant movement. It reminded me very much of a nearly identical movement in capoeira, the afro-brazilian martial art invented in this region. During the procession itself the participants swayed and stepped in a very samba-like pattern, while the ballet of bodies around the floor was reminiscent of a soccer match (the "beautiful game" as they call it).

I think that all these art forms (capoeira, candomblé, samba, soccer, carnaval, and many more) are really just different manifestations of a single profound and vibrant Brazilian spirit. This spirit, although it has a vast number of influences and has evolved greatly over the years, comes originally from candomblé; the belief system that was the only thing the slaves were able to bring with them stripped naked in the holds of the slave-trading vessels.

Even thousands of miles away from their homes, in a strange land with a strange tongue, they retained in their minds the memories of saints and spirits, dances and rituals, prayers and incantations that had imparted meaning to their everyday existence. And in their time of greatest, most extreme trial, it was these same spirits that sustained them, that gave them hope, that kept them united.

I find this fairly ironic.

In their attempt to strip them of everything of their culture - and everything that made them human, for that matter - the slavetraders of centuries past left their African slaves with only ideas, left them with the only thing that could not be taken away. In so doing, they merely set the stage for the emergence of a country where every facet of life is influenced by this ancient faith (actually, faiths).

Whether you are Brazilian or American, if you want to appreciate and extol the virtues of virtually any aspect of Brazilian culture, you must recognize the all-pervasive influence that the African religions have had. Until this country does so without reservation, it will be standing on misunderstood and shaky ground.

Oh and I also found out my personal "orixá" (protector spirit) is Iemanjá, goddess of the seas, which is why I love the water so much. She's also the most powerful orixá. How sweet is that?