Author Archives: Eli

The Narcissist’s Altar

 

Eli Van Buren

 

Cast to the back and to the side edge of the altar it appeared largely unimpressive standing next to the other, more flashy and colorful objects upon the altar to Yemaya. I think that is why it initially caught my eye. It appeared to be some sort of shell-covered model house, dust covered and a dull gray color from age. I’ve found that for the most part, some of the most discrete things turn out to be the most interesting. Naturally, I had to get closer to this dusty old box and as I did I realized it was quite a bit larger than I had first thought, about fourteen inches in diameter. It was almost totally covered in cowrie shells with a curious bird figure perched at the object’s crown. This was an Ile Ori, or House of the Head, a personal shrine dedicated to one’s own spiritual essence, individuality, and chosen destiny.

Ile Ori are hollow containers, usually with a cylindrical base and a conical lid. The Ile Ori wears scales of cowrie shells (an ancient currency among Yoruba peoples) which are symbols of great importance. The shells represent a triple meaning, as traditional currency they symbolize the riches of one’s good character; the overlaying cowrie shells allude to the feathers of a white bird; and the color of the shells, white, is the color of purity of character: iwa (Thompson 11). Commonly Ile Ori will even have a sculpture of a bird at the container’s apex. This bird is the eiye ororo or “bird of the head”

It is the bird which, according to the Yoruba, God places in the head of man or woman at birth as the emblem of the mind. The image of the descent of the bird of mind fuses with the image of the coming down of God’s ashe[spiritual essence that which embodies all things] in feathered form.

Thompson, 11

Moving on from the eiye ororo to other aspects of the lid, this particular Ile Ori has panels of alternating canvas, leather, and mirrors. Paired with the Ile Ori being specific to only one person, the mirror panels on two of the lid’s sides compound themes of individuality. Other materials were included in making the Ile Ori. Possibly the person’s placenta in addition to certain symbolic materials, such as clay, stone, or water (Drewal, Pemberton, Abiodun, 27). Some objects represent different gods or oriṣa, depending on which oriṣa the person worshiped those materials would go into making the Ile Ori. Symbols appear to be an ongoing theme in Ile Ori and even the shape of the lid itself is of great importance. The cone has long been a symbol of humans and their place in the universe (Drewal, Pemberton, Abiodun, 27).

Despite commonplace first appearances, this object has a hidden symbolism that transcends time to still be relevant today. Thinking of the Ile Ori as a personal altar will help understand exactly what the Ile Ori is. There is a common western idea of altars being entirely a raised platform upon which holy objects are placed. In understanding the Ile Ori, the concept of altars will expand to something greater. The Yoruba use altars in many things, and their altars come in many shapes and sizes. The Ile Ori is one such example, as the altar to oneself, celebrating individuality.

 

How can I begin to describe Ile Ori, the House of the Head, without first explaining the meaning of the head within a Yoruba context? Yoruba peoples, and those following Yoruba traditions, believe that one has two heads: an outer spiritual head (Ori Ode), and an inner spiritual head (Ori Inu). One’s outer head is physical, it was created with the body at birth. One’s inner spiritual head is much more complex, it contains a person’s iwa: their good (or in some cases bad) character, as well as the destiny they chose in heaven before descending to Aye: the world of the living (Thompson 11). The ori inu is also the site of one’s aṣe/ashe or life force. It is for this reason the Yoruba believe that inner qualities have a direct impact on the outer ones. This concept has been compared to a smoky flame: no matter how beautiful the smoke, inner ugliness will burn through, and vice versa (Thompson 11). In worshiping the head, heavy values are placed on one’s character. As an altar the Ile Ori functions differently in how it has a highly individualistic focus (Drewal, Pemberton, Abiodun, 27). Centering around one person, each Ile Ori is only the shrine to one Ori.

There is no direct english translation for the word Ori. Ori can mean ‘head’, but it also means ‘destiny’, the two are interchangeable. The Yoruba have a strong belief in the concept of predestination and there are many words it is known by (Thompson 11). Though no matter the word used to describe predestination, it always comes back to be associated with Ori (Abimbola 115). People will visit a babalawo (diviner/fortune teller) to understand their chosen path in life through consulting their Ori and determine what it wishes of them. This practice is so universal that even the gods themselves have Ori guiding day-to-day life and will consult them from time to time for the same purpose (Abimbola 115). While the Yoruba believe in predestiny they also believe that each and every person chose that destiny. If someone is unsuccessful in life, it is largely due to the fact that they chose a poor head in heaven. So the head is a peculiar symbol of both free choice and predeterminism. The Yoruba even have proverbs describing the concept of Ori in this context:

Eni t’o gbon,

Ori e l’o ni o gbon.

Eeyan ti o gbon,

Orii re l’o ni o go j’usu lo

 

He who is wise,

Is made wise by his Ori.

He who is not wise,

Is made more foolish than a piece of yam by his Ori.

(Abimbola 114)

This sheds some light on how much impact Ori has on an individual. One of the worst insults one can be called is oloriburuku, which translates to “owner of a bad head”. To be called this is so offensive I probably should not have included it in this essay. It basically means that the offended is going nowhere in life and they chose to live a life of absolutely no worth. With such significance placed on symbols of the head, it really is no wonder this culture constructs altars dedicated to them. The Ile Ori is a way of prayer to appease their personal spirits as well as connecting with one’s inner spiritual self and their destiny (Drewal, Pemberton, Abiodun, 27).

Nothing on or in an Ile Ori is there for no reason. Think about a modern western conception of an altar, each object or color has its specific symbolism or meaning. The Ile Ori is an altar, a shrine to a god named Ori. Ori is the god of the self. In some ways, Ori is the most important deity in the Yoruba pantheon (Abimbola 114) for it is respected as a personal god, and owned by a single person. Each person’s Ori belongs to them and it is understood that they will be more interested in personal affairs than the other gods, who are owned by all people (Abimbola 114). In worshiping their Ori people will place objects within the Ile Ori in order to please their Ori. It is in this manner the Ile Ori is given life, it becomes an aṣe-infused object with a very active role in a person’s life.

Opposed to other Yoruba, Vodou, Santeria, or Christian altars where everything is clearly visible and open to all people, the Ile Ori is a private altar. It is very unique and personal to a single individual, and so it is an altar closed to the prying eyes of others. Objects are placed inside the altar instead of upon it. The object placed within is called iponri. Iponri is a vital figure containing elements of one’s ancestor spirits, potential restrictions in life, and the oriṣa. This iponri is “everything that plays a significant role in the life of the person.” (Drewal, Pemberton, Abiodun, 27) This proposes a new definition of what an altar is. Objects and offerings are placed within, not only to appease their Ori, but to improve their own destiny. A Yoruba proverb speaks of the constant human struggle on earth, stating that most humans chose poor Ori, poor destinies, in heaven. Through life people struggle to achieve the impossible goal of improving their predetermined bad destiny (Abimbola 146).

As a personal shrine, the Ile Ori challenges what I previously thought of as classified as an altar. Altars need not be dedicated to gods, oriṣa or spirits. The Ile Ori has shown me worship is dynamic and unconfined to being directed towards higher beings. As an altar, this object channels aṣe/energy towards the self. It beautifully balances self-love with self-improvement within a spiritual symbol. The Ile Ori tells us to purge bad character yet still appreciate yourself, to be happy with you lot in life yet still work to improve it. Through studying this Ile Ori my concept of altars has expanded. As an altar so centralized around individuality, it is very different than other altars, which have the effect of bringing people together. The Ile Ori introduces a rarely seen, yet vastly important, spiritual form; that of self worship.

 

“Òwèrè là ńjà”: we are only struggling

Abimbola 146

 

Drewal, Pemberton & Abiodun, The Yoruba World. Harry N. Abrams, Inc., Publishers, New

York, (date needed), pp. 26-33

 

Abimbola, ‘Wande Ifa: An Exposition of Ifa Literary Corpus. Oxford University Press Nigeria,

Ibadan, 1976, pp. 113-147

 

Thompson, Robert F., Flash of the Spirit. Random House, Inc., New York, 1983, pp. 11

 

Angles, Ori, and Destiny: annotated bibliography

Drewal, Pemberton & Abiodun, The Yoruba World. Harry N. Abrams, Inc., Publishers, New York, (date needed), pp. 26-33

I found this excerpt from a book via our class readings list and skimming through until I found any reference to my subject matter. A section in this chapter touches on the fundamental significance of the head and what the ori inu is. The authors go on to write about ile ori (house of the the head) as well as ibori (head container). Including in detail the materials used, as well as how it represents a person’s individuality. This seems like a great resource for providing an introduction to the Ile Ori in my object analysis.

Through this chapter we seem to be looking at strict facts with little room for opinion. I think the reader gets an inside scoop so to speak as Abiodun is a nigerian and practitioner of the religion itself. I think that having three separate authors for a piece helps separate personal opinions from the text.

 

Desmangles, Leslie G. The Faces of the Gods: Vodou and Roman Catholicism in Haiti. The University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill & London, 1992, pp. 64-68

I was recommended this book by the librarian when I met with her. We found the book through CAT Quest using the keywords Vodun, Voudou, Vodou, Voodoo, Bonnanj, Bonanj, Zanj, Angels, and Angel. In the cited section the concepts of gwo-bon-anj and ti-bon-anj are described. A remarkable similarity between these personal spirits and one’s ori inu can be drawn. Desmangles goes over many aspects of the “communal self” including how one participates in visible and invisible communities, as well as the many spirits governing one’s human experiences. It may be too early to draw conclusions yet, though at a glance it may appear that the yoruba concepts of ori inu and ifa roughly translated into guardian angel spirits tending their person’s destiny.

Desmangles leaves out some information she considers unimportant. The reader only receives a filtered view of the multiple “compartments of the spirit”, only seeing what Desmangles considers valid/important/relevant enough to be put into her book. To quote her: “…and they need not be discussed here in detail;”(66) this leads me to believe there may be other things that “need not be discussed.” So I may be getting an incomplete picture.

 

Abimbola, ‘Wande Ifa: An Exposition of Ifa Literary Corpus. Oxford University Press Nigeria, Ibadan, 1976, pp. 113-118

I found this book during my meeting with the librarian as well. I used the keywords Ifa, Ori, and Yoruba in a CAT Quest search. The majority of the book is on various aspects and properties of Ifa, yet one chapter explains the significance of Ori in relation to man’s choice of destiny. A particularly interesting tidbit described is that the Yoruba regard Ori as one of the gods of their pantheon. Abimbola goes on to say that in some ways, Ori is the greatest god of all because Ori is each individual’s personal deity “who is expected to be more interested in his personal affairs than the other gods…”(114). Going off on a tangent here, this reminds me of Haitian Abimbola quotes a great deal of sayings, proverbs, and other yoruba oral literature. Lastly he writes everyone has a destiny even the gods, who will also consult Ifa and Ori to inquire about the course of their destiny.

Abimbola is a yoruba man from Nigeria. He actually wrote this book based off his PhD thesis which he submitted in 1969 to the University of Lagos. He has a lot of first hand experience with yoruba tradition being nigerian and immersed in the religion since childhood. He seems quite credible and if anything gives too much extraneous information. I do not know for sure if he’s a practitioner of orisa worship though I believe it’s a safe assumption.

Research Statement: Ilé Orí

Eli Van Buren

 

The symbolism of the head has a very powerful meaning in Yoruba and the African Diaspora religions’ culture. It is said that one has two heads: the outer spiritual head and the inner spiritual head. I don’t really care about the outer head. The inner spiritual head is physically represented in the Ile Ori, or the “House of the Head.” I chose to study the Ile Ori in the Spirited Things exhibition because I’d like to realize why ancient Yoruba peoples put such a strong emphasis on the head and how those practices translated to Haitian Vodun across generations and the Atlantic ocean. The inner head is so central to Afro-Atlantic spirituality that people would almost entirely cover their Ile Ori with cowrie shells, the equivalent to plastering the steering wheel of your car with dollar bills. In Black Atlantic spirituality, the head is closely tied to the concept of Ifa; fate or destiny. In understanding the significance of something so culturally important, one can see into the values of a culture to gain a view of a much broader concept: how this specific culture approaches one of humanity’s greatest spiritual questions about fate, destiny, and free will.

 

A couple class readings evidence and answers can be pulled from include The Yoruba World by Drewal, Pemberton, and Abiodun, as well as Afro-Caribbean Spirituality: A Haitian Case Study by Karen McCarthy Brown. The former article touches on the importance of the inu ori (inner head), ile ori, and the individuality associated with both. “The privacy and uniqueness of a person is the theme of the ile ori (‘house of the head’)…the object holds a symbol…of a person’s inner, spiritual essence.” (Drewal Pemberton Abiodun 27) In contrast to expressing a person’s individuality, the inu ori has much to do with spirit possession; orisa inhabiting one’s head and body. The Haitian case study can lend some insight into showing what methods and symbols have changed from traditional Yoruba worship to Vodun in the context of possession. Both of these two articles provide a wealth of information as a base for my continued external research to expand upon.

 

To find some answers, or at least the information I need to form my own answers, I should consult our UVM library to find some published sources on the Ile Ori. Ideally some sort of in depth analysis of the sculpture, explaining the different parts and meanings of each, though I may need to look through a few sources to find consistencies. Additionally, I am sure Duke University’s African religions website has quite a few articles on what I’m looking for. Context-providing secondary sources could be anything from traditional stories pertaining to the importance of the Ile Ori, to anthropological articles detailing how people relate to their Ile Ori and treat it in an everyday context.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Wn4-n9Ij01RA9pvItlslwNflXLrl7opU4wnmL0PVLr8/edit?usp=sharing

Stirred Not Shaken: Religious Cocktails in Nigeria

In Sacred Journeys: Oṣun-Oṣogbo the Nigerian festival is shown in its modern context, as a pilgrimage, of sorts, for not only peoples from around Nigeria (and surrounding countries) but also for those hailing from the New World. You may ask yourself, “What the heck is Oṣun-Oṣogbo?” Let me tell you. Oṣun-Oṣogbo (O-shoon O-shog-bo) is an annual festival taking place in Nigeria, along the banks of the Oṣun River. Oṣun is actually an Oriṣa, a Goddess of sorts; rivers, fertility and motherhood are her domain. The festival celebrates the people’s gratitude for her and honors her, as she is a chief deity in the Yoruba pantheon. Throughout the episode we follow a handful of Americans who have come to Africa for the festival and be apart of this ancient ceremony that speaks to their spiritual selves. That being said, whoever directed this series did so in such an unimpressive way. It is more than possible that my expectations of the film were nowhere near the goals of the filming crew and writers of PBS- Sacred Journeys. I am definitely not a screenwriter, however I feel that if you are trying to make a tv show about religion, conveying the power practitioners feel is crucial. My main schtick is that throughout my time spent watching this I saw oriṣa worshipers with such fervor and energy and Bruce Fieler(PBS’ on-screen narrator) approached it in a bland way; calm narration, off cue music (ominous in mundane situations, light in more powerful ones), and a general isolation almost between the program and what oriṣa worship was really trying to get at. I feel like the enthusiasm and energy, especially surrounding Oṣun-Oṣogbo, is so key to oriṣa worship, and PBS fell a little flat in trying to capture it.

Religious mixture is very much present in Yoruba tradition. Nigeria in particular is religiously divided between Islam, Christianity, and Oriṣa Worship. Bruce Fieler states, in the film, that a big draw towards the christian church in Nigeria is the sense of community and connections the church gives to worshipers. Apparently the Christian church even goes as far as to promise jobs to those who convert to the faith. In response to this, some oriṣa worshipers have begun to try and build a sense of community within their own practice, to keep followers from leaving their ranks. This is not necessarily hybridity or ‘religious mixing,’ I would say it’s more of an evolutionary process. One faith takes ideas from another faith and grows because of it. I am willing to bet Nigerian Christians take ideas or components from Yoruba tradition, though I do not know for sure.

This evolutionary process extends to the Americas as a mixing of American culture and Yoruba tradition. Paul Johnson has some interesting thoughts on Transculturation (the phenomenon of confluencing cultures) in his book The Study of Religion. “Transculturation nuanced acculturation by insisting that even cultural losses, and the responses to loss, continued to inform the experience of a new territory and generate new practices both among the colonized and the colonizers.”(Johnson 759). Nathaniel Styles goes on to say oriṣa worship is not just ritual practices, it is a way of life. There is an entire culture surrounding oriṣa worship that fosters communities in the United States. It is a way of life that has survived diaspora, slavery, discrimination and many other challenges throughout time. Due to the adversity Yoruba peoples in the New World went through, the Yoruba culture in the United States must be fairly different than the relatively consistent culture of “Yorubaland” (Nigeria). I think it would be pretty interesting if Bruce Fieler and the PBS team interviewed Alathia Stewart and Oni Yipiay-Henton (the two young women undergoing the priestess initiation rites for the Oṣun-Oṣogbo festival in the film) asking them to compare/contrast the oriṣa tradition they grew up practicing, to the oriṣa tradition they were experiencing in Nigeria. This film leaves me with more questions than answers, does the influx of Americans influence the practices of Nigerians? How far have New World traditions deviated from those of old? Does oriṣa practice here in the States reach the same level of intensity witnessed in Lagos? Or are things more subdued due to the influences of christianity and slavery? Food for thought…

Oṣun-Oṣogbo festival reflection

Eli Van Buren

 

In Sacred Journeys: Oṣun-Oṣogbo the Nigerian festival is shown in its modern context, as a pilgrimage of sorts for not only peoples from around Nigeria (and surrounding countries) but also for those hailing from the New World. Throughout the episode we follow a handful of americans who have come to Africa for the festival and be apart of this ancient ceremony that speaks to their spiritual selves. That being said, whoever directed this series did so in such an unimpressive way, it’s ridiculous. It is more than possible that my expectations of the film were nowhere near the goals of the filming crew and writers of PBS- Sacred Journeys. I am definitely not a screenwriter, however I feel that if you are trying to make a tv show about religion, conveying the power practitioners feel is crucial. My main schtick is that throughout my time spent watching this I saw oriṣa worshipers with such fervor and energy and Bruce approached it in a bland way; calm narration, off cue music (ominous in mundane situations, light in more powerful ones), and a general isolation almost between the program and what oriṣa worship was really trying to get at. I feel like the enthusiasm and energy, especially surrounding Oṣun-Oṣogbo, is so key to oriṣa worship, and PBS fell a little flat in trying to capture it.

Religious mixture is very much present in Yoruba tradition. Nigeria in particular is religiously divided between Islam, Christianity, and Oriṣa Worship. Bruce Fieler states, in the film, that a big draw towards the christian church in Nigeria is the sense of community and connections the church gives to worshipers. Apparently the church even goes as far as to promise jobs to those who convert to the faith. In response to this, some oriṣa worshipers have begun to try and build a sense of community within their own practice, to keep followers from leaving their ranks. This is not necessarily hybridity or ‘religious mixing,’ I would say it’s more of an evolutionary process. One faith takes ideas from another faith and grows because of it. I am unsure if Nigerian Christians take ideas or components from Yoruba tradition, though I would not be surprised if that were the case. I feel as though there is, additionally, a mixing of American culture and Yoruba tradition. Paul Johnson states in his Study of Religions that the term “syncretism’s primary domain was ritual.” Nathaniel Styles goes on to say oriṣa worship is a way of life. In my own words, I would say that it is a culture. The Yoruba culture in the United States must be quite different than the relatively consistent Yoruba culture of “Yorubaland” or Nigeria. I think it would be pretty interesting if Bruce Fieler and the PBS team interviewed Alathia Stewart and Oni Yipiay-Henton (the two young women undergoing the priestess initiation rites for the Oṣun-Oṣogbo festival) asking them to compare/contrast the oriṣa tradition they grew up in, to the oriṣa tradition they were experiencing in Nigeria. This film leaves me with more questions than answers, does the influx of Americans influence the practices of Nigerians? How far have New World traditions deviated from those of old? Does oriṣa practice here in the States reach the same level of intensity witnessed in Lagos? Or are things more subdued due to the christian influence? Things to consider…