The Blaus - South America and Europe

30 do Julho, Salvador de Bahia, Part 2

Brazil was the last country in the Americas to abolish slavery, in 1888, so the traditions and culture of the former slave population in places like Salvador are not a distant memory, but are still an integral part of life today. Candomble is an example of this; it is a religion practiced by the descendants of slaves in Brazil. It was outlawed until about 40 years ago, because it was thought to be similiar to voodoo. When West Africans were brought to Brazilian soil as slaves and forced to proselytize to Catholicism, they preserved their native beliefs and religious practices by assigning names of Catholic Saints to their African dieties. It appeared that they were pious Christian converts while they continued to worship spirits that inhabit natural objects and phenomena (like the God of water or the God of disease). This syncretism of Catholicism and the animism of slaves from West Africa is alive and well today in Salvador.

We went to see a Candomble ceremony on a Saturday night to witness this phenomenon for ourselves. We were told not to wear any black or red clothing to the ceremony, and that was the only information that the tour agency provided us with. We had only heard stories about these celebrations, so we didn`t know whether to expect an animal sacrifice or a sitdown mass. We hoped that it wouldn´t be a show performed for tourists, but instead a chance for us to get a genuine peek at the sacred practice of Candomble. In the end we were very satisfied with our experience.

There are 1,000 Candomble temples and 166 Catholic churches in Salvador. Most of the Candomble temples are in the poorest neighborhoods, so we were headed to the outskirts of Salvador to a favela (slum) where one of these temples was located. This temple was very small, it was a simple one room home converted into a place of worship. Our tour guide was a talkative Brazilian guy who had lived in Atlanta for 10 years, and loved telling the story about his confusion with the word payday when he first arrived in the States and was learning English. Apparently payday means "I farted" in Portuguese, so he had an embarrassing and difficult time learning about that celebrated day of the month. He picked us up and then drove a car jam-packed with tourists around in circles for an hour and a half before we finally arrived at the temple.

The ceremony had already started by the time we arrived, so we took our places outside the building near the door where we could get a good view of the dancing and chanting that was underway inside. The crowd was separated into men on one side of the room and women on the other, and there was an inner circle of participants who would be entering into trances and then later appearing in costumes of the dieties that were being celebrated on this night of the week. Different dieties are worshipped on different days. The participants sang and chanted in the Yoruba language, and they were accompanied by drums and bells. We noticed that one of the drummers was missing a hand, but he played the bongo with more skill than any drummer we have ever seen play. The music, dancing and singing were enchanting enough to lure anyone into a trance. There were specific people assigned to help and aid the handfull of participants who started to fall under the spell of trances. As they trembled, sweated and yelled while dancing with their eyes closed or rolling back in their heads, they needed someone to make sure they didn`t hurt themselves or any spectators with their uncontrolled body movements. Mainly women entered into trances, as is the custom. The members of the congregation were old and young, some seemed like regular attendees, while others seemed to show up specifically for the free meal (which was given out near the end of the ceremony). Everyone was wearing white and blue.

After the participants had completely entered into trance states, they were escorted outside and later returned wearing costumes that represented dieties (orixas). The festival we attended dedicated to the God of the Swamp, but the most interesting of all of the costumes at this ceremony was the God of Disease. The participant representing the God of Disease wore a straw mask, cape and dress to cover her face and body disfigured by smallpox. Also in attendance were the God of Lightning, God of Hunters, and God of Water. After another hour of chanting and dancing, towards the end of the ceremony, we all threw rice and fragrant flower petals at the dieties as they received other gifts. All of this was done in the name of adoration, because the dieties are vain and they are happiest when they are showered with attention in this manner. We left the ceremony before it came to a close, so we are not sure how it ended, but we were told that it began in the morning with an animal sacrifice and that it would not finish until well after midnight.

The next day we went in search of a museum that claimed to house the best collection of balangandas (slave charms). We plotted out the most direct route on the map and started to make our way to the Museum Costa Pinto. As we walked down the hill and got further from the Pelo, we noticed that the neighborhood became increasingly seedier. A seemingly crazy man approached us and told us not to go any further down the street because it was dangerous. We tried to dismiss him and continue along, but as we rounded the corner we were stopped again by two armed policemen standing at the entrance to what looked like a crack alley. This is the first time we had seen anything like this in South America. It looked a lot like the Tenderloin in San Francisco. The police cautioned us to turn around and quickly get out of this area. We tried to map out a way to circumnavigate the crack den, but we were unable to get around it. As we were retracing our path back to the safer and more touristy area of the Pelo, we spotted a desperate-looking man who was suspiciously crossing the street toward us. Luckily we happened to be in sight of the two police officers that redirected us earlier, and when this man realized this, he changed direction. We decided that it would be best to travel to this museum by bus instead.

The museum was well worth a visit. It had an amazing collection of gold balangandas that were once worn on a chain around a slave`s waist. The charms were depictions of fruits, animals, a fist that represented African unity, and other symbols of daily life during those times. It is said that the slavemaster rewarded slaves with these charms for a deed done, and when the slave accumulated a dozen charms, they could have their freedom. We were impressed by the intricate charms and the concrete evidence of a very sad and oppressive way of life.

Sundays in Salvador are holy days. The streets are deserted and everyone is either at church or making the pilgrimmage to the beach to worship the sun, sand, and ocean. We did a little of both. As we headed to the bus station to find transport to the beach, we let our ears lead us into the church known as the slave church in the main plaza in the Pelo. Mass at this church would inspire the most stubborn aethiest to become a devout worshipper. It was a joyous celebration as people were dancing, hands were clapping, friends were greeting eachother, everyone was smiling and singing to incredible music with African drum beats. Salvador is a place that makes you feel alive.

On our last night in Salvador we were walking in the Pelo and heard the sound of drums in the distance. Again we followed the sound and stumbled upon a marching drum troop. The drummers were young boys being led by two older men who acted as conducters. The troop had attracted a crowd of people who faithfully followed them around as if they were pied pipers and the mesmorized crowd was under a spell like rats. This crowd would`ve followed these drummers and their music to certain death without concern. We stood on the sidelines and watched and then became overwhelmed by the phenomenon and joined in the dancing and marching ourselves. We were all dancing in synch with abandon regardless of who we were. There was a sense of unity despite differences between us in age, color, etc. Everyone smiled and cheered and no one was judging anyone else. It was the kind of joy derived from something unexpected and foreign but familiar to the soul and so seldomly experienced that it was very special. It was a beautiful expression of humanity.

Our friend Jose said it best when asked about his impressions of Brazil. Jose is from Lima, but he is working on a PhD in Spanish Literature at Princeton, and we met him in Rio while he was there doing research for his studies. He stated it simply and precisely, "Brazil is alive." Our experiences in Brazil have reinforced this feeling for us as well.

posted by The Blaus @ 10:11 AM