Author Archives: Tessa

Studying Vodou from the Perspective of Altars

From the perspective of the altar, religion takes on a whole new meaning to the practitioner. The altar is essentially the connection between the spirits (orisha) and the living. In order to work, each altar has to be activated through ceremony, which involves drums, singing, dancing, and foods, to name a few things. When an altar is “activated”, that means that ase is flowing through it. Ase is the divine force of destiny, power, and life. It flows through all things, and, when activated, can channel gods in altars. This is how altars become a gateway between the two worlds – they are made up with items that represent what the spirits like and what the spirits are like, and through placing everything correctly on the altar and singing and dancing to ritualistic songs, the altar basically becomes the divinity. Through those means the spirit forms a connection with the practitioner, and spirit possession, which is when the ase of an orisha flows through a person and the orisha resides in that person’s body for a short amount of time, can occur. Altars are meant to honor the spirits, and connect the people with these beings. In light of that, when studying religion we should look at these objects and altars in terms of how items could be of significance to both the spirit and the worshipper, and how the items all work together. This perspective can enhance an outsider’s understanding of religion, as much more meaning can be understood through observing how the objects on an altar work with each other and with the practitioners to transcend a simple understanding into something much more complex.

Emphasizing materiality affects a religion in many different aspects. Religions are often defined by what materials they use, the patterns in both texture and color, and what the objects are/represent. By focusing on the artifacts found in religion, the you can observe different influences on the original source, and see how it relates to other religions of the same diaspora. It also gives an insight on different attributes that the worshippers like or dislike. One spirit may have many different characteristics that are symbolized in a variety of ways, including attributes that are significant to the devotee, defines the divinity to him or her and why they follow the higher beings they follow. However, defining a religion by the objects that they use is not an effective way to try to understand a whole religion, rather, it’s merely the tip of the iceberg. One thing that is often discussed in study of religion is the view of the outsider. Someone who isn’t practicing a religion won’t be able to understand aspects of the religion without being influenced by personal bias or ignorance. For example, while an outsider may view an altar as objects on a table, a practitioner of the religion will be able to see true meaning behind the objects and how they’re arranged to channel ase or to please the spirits. Putting emphasis on defining a religion by its materiality is a way that promotes the blindness that comes with the view of the outsider, as it only accounts for the physical parts of a religion, not the many other aspects that can make a religion.

By centering our study on altars, we learn that while altars provide a view into religions, they aren’t able to be understood fully when they’re taken out of context. An out of context altar, such as an altar found in a museum, can’t function to the fullest context. Altars found in museums also are often observed and written about by people that are outsiders, who often define religions by their materiality and the objects placed on altars rather than the functionality and meaning of the whole altar and all of the factors that go into rituals combined together. Many religions such as Candomble are often identified by only their altars, without regard for the many other important aspects of the religion that provide meaning to practitioners, but are unobservable to an outsider. Therefore, by centering our study of a religion on its altars, we learn about the religion and material objects that are important to the religion, but turn a blind eye to deeper meaning that could be discovered if the altars were viewed in context and by people that practice the religion and aren’t subject to an outsider’s bias.

The Souls of Santeria

On Wednesday, November 15th, I attended the lecture “Thrones of the Gods and Altars of the Soul” by Daniel Rodriguez in the Fleming Museum. Daniel Rodriguez is a professor of Spanish, and a practitioner of Santeria. He’s an Oba Oriate, which means that he’s reached the level of highest ranking priest in Santeria. An Oba Oriate sets up ceremonies for initiates and other practitioners, performs Ifa divination, and provides overall advice to lower rank followers of Santeria, as well practicing Santeria themselves. With all of these responsibilities, it’s no wonder that Professor Rodriguez put emphasis on the fact that it’s very difficult for him to balance his job as a professor and his responsibilities to his religion.

Although I wasn’t able to stay for the whole lecture, I attended the part where Professor Rodriguez discussed Santeria, before he got to individually discussing Orisha. I found that this lecture was very much worth attending, because it is another way for outsiders to hear the perspective of someone on the inside. In learning about religions such as Yoruba, Santeria, and Vodou in class, we often discuss the view of the outsider versus the view of the insider, and how we as outsiders can never truly have the same perspective as an insider, no matter how much we try. An example of an outsider’s view can be seen in an article titled “Body Rituals Among the Nacirema”, in which the author writes, “It is hard to understand how they have managed to exist so long under the burdens which they have imposed upon themselves” (p.8). The author describes the practices of the “Nacirema”, which is “American” backwards, and twists all the aspects that we view as normal into sounding foreign, mystical, and dangerous. This article exists to show the reader how anything, described from an outsider’s perspective, can be misinterpreted, and is a good example of how an outsider’s view is always distorted.

Professor Rodriguez talked a lot about how new practitioners don’t want to wait to have privileges, and they don’t realize how difficult and what a commitment practicing Santeria can be. He explained that a lot of people view religions such as Santeria and Vodou as “trendy” and don’t know that it is a lot of work to practice Santeria. He specifically mentioned how, for example, when one is initiated, they must wear white for a year and a day. Many initiates don’t realize how difficult this can be, or how much of a commitment it is to always feed, clean, and take care of altars. He also mentioned that many initiates don’t want to wait to get their special privileges, they want immediate benefits. This is one way in which an outsider’s view distorts Santeria for initiates: they don’t understand how important it is to earn your status rank, instead of having it be handed to them, and they view the religion as “easy” and trendy, instead of treating it seriously.

Professor Rodriguez also discussed how the media views Santeria. My first experience with Santeria was with my class at UVM where we explored the intricacies and beauties of Santeria, so although I am an outsider, I don’t particularly have a negative connotation with the word Santeria. Professor Rodriguez brought up interesting points about how media shows their outsider’s view of Santeria in a bad light, so much so that “trendy” people who are being initiated  sometimes prefer to say that they practice “Regla de Ocha”, even though these terms have the same meaning. A lot of people view followers of Santeria as “evil” based on the fact that they perform animal sacrifice, and modern media only cares to cover stories about “animal remains being discovered”, or other stories meant to demonize Santeria, instead of trying to learn about everything else that Santeria practitioners do, and how they can positively impact society. Again, the outsider’s view comes into play in how in people who don’t practice Santeria, often their only exposure to it is through negative media, instead of the real perspectives of people that are part of Santeria and its culture.

Overall, I thought that it was worth going to Professor Rodriguez’s lecture. He spoke from a point of experience about Santeria as a modern religion, and the hardships that they face, which is important to know. Although I am an outsider to the religion of Santeria, I feel that after listening to the perspective of an insider, I am much more informed about Santeria culture and how Santeria functions in society.

 

Works Cited:

Miner, Horacce. “Body Ritual Among the Nacirema.” American Anthropologist 58:3, pp. 5–8.

An Altar to Ochosi – The Godly Hunter in Our World

Stepping into the Fleming Museum’s Santería birthday throne, your eyes are overwhelmed with bright colors, sparkling fabrics, beaded objects, shiny crowns. Closest to the viewer, perched on the ground, the simple altar of Ochosi sits. This altar somewhat contrasts all of the elegant and elaborately decorated altars that are raised up high in the air; Ochosi’s altar is rather plain, save for his signature blue, gold, and coral beads.

Ochosi’s shrine, while simple, is also beautiful. A grey ceramic bowl sits on the ground, but holds inside a bow and arrow, and a spear adorned with those blue, golden, and coral beads that seem to draw light to them. A string of these beads of all different shapes and sizes circle the bowl, bringing dimension to the simple ceramic shape. Beside the bow and arrow, a pair of metal black manacles sit menacingly, as if daring its audience to challenge the forces of justice. A pear-shaped calabash, adorned with beads, shells, and blue ribbons rests on the floor next to the ceramic bowl: hollow, with only secrets inside. A simple silk rug sits underneath the bowl and and the calabash, half a deep blue, and half golden. Next to the altar is also a horsehair whip, the handle embedded with Ochosi’s beads. This whip is unusual, as it is usually only given to orisha, or gods, of higher status, such as Obatala, Yemaya, Oya, and other royalty. Normally, Ochosi isn’t considered royalty at all, which makes this whip an abnormality. Although the altar of Ochosi has all of these beautiful and intricate details, it’s not particularly eye-catching, especially compared to the loud and embellished altars on display in the birthday throne.

I chose to study the altar of Ochosi because it called out to me. It’s the altar closest to its audience, yet it seems barren and small compared to other altars. This was what intrigued me most as I studied the altars in the Santería birthday throne. As I learned more about Ochosi, I became interested in studying how he is worshipped – what his altars look like, how his rituals are performed. In this essay I will first provide some background on Ochosi, then I will explain briefly how Santería altars are made and how they function, and what is known about altars to Ochosi.

Ochosi, sometimes spelled Oshossi or Oxossi, is the Yoruba orisha of hunting and justice. With the passage of time and with the slave trade bringing practitioners to and from other countries, Yoruba religion has spread to different cultures to form religions such as Santería, Vodou, and Candomble. This is the African diaspora, and it refers to the spread of new religions formed by followers of Yoruba adapting to and including new cultures in their worship. Ochosi isn’t an orisha easily found – his name appears in many books, but only to mention him in passing as one of the great warrior orisha. The main legend known about Ochosi is one in which he hunts a quail to present to the gods, but his mother cooks it and eats it instead. Ochosi catches another quail, and asks for his arrow to pierce the heart of the thief who stole the first quail, and is distraught when he sees his own arrow land in the chest of his mother (Sandoval 2006, 286) (González-Wippler 2004,50-51). This tale demonstrates Ochosi’s talent at hunting and his passion for justice – two of the main attributes that he exemplifies.

The birthday throne found in the Fleming Museum is dedicated to a man named Dr. J Lorand Matory, a practitioner of Santería, and a professor of cultural anthropology, African studies, and African American studies at Duke University. Birthdays are very important in Santería, and this throne is a collection of altars dedicated to orisha such as Yemaya or Ochosi. Orisha are placed in order of importance in general, but also of importance to the practitioner. Often, importance is shown in height – Obatala, the father of all orisha, has his altar on the tallest pillar. While all altars to a certain orisha have some aspects in common, small details will always differ based on who the throne is dedicated to. We’ve already seen this in how Dr. Matory chose to give Ochosi, who is often seen as lower class, a horsehair whip, which is normally only given to orisha that are considered royalty. Altars provide a significant view not only into how religion is practiced – but also into the details and intricacies that can make an altar or a birthday throne unique to a single practitioner.

Dr. Matory’s altar to Ochosi is also unique in that it’s touching the altar of Ogun – no other altars are touching in this way. Ochosi is known for his relationship and ability to get along with other orisha, particularly Ogun, the orisha of iron and the forge. Mythology about Ochosi and Ogun varies – many stories say that they’re brothers, but some maintain that they are simply very close friends. Regardless of the details, all stories place significance on the fact that these orisha are very close. The legendary blacksmith Ogun forges weapons such as bows, swords, and spears, and the great hunter Ochosi uses them. Dr. Matory’s birthday throne provides a perfect example of how altars can embody their orisha – the closeness of Ochosi and Ogun’s altars illustrates the closeness of their relationship.

Altars are very sacred in many religions, and Santería is no exception.`Altars, when activated, can channel orisha. Altars are activated through ashe – the Yoruba word for life, destiny, and power, which flows through everything. Ashe is activated through song, dance, smells, foods, and more, which is why it is very important that an altar has all of the correct objects, foods, beads, etc. When an altar is prepared correctly, it is able to channel ashe, which is what activates it, giving the gods the power to come into the altar, and into the bodies of participants in a ritual. The sound of singing, the feeling of dancing, the smells of foods, and the sights of traditional ritualistic outfits all contribute and activate the ashe of an altar. People performing rituals can also become “spirit possessed”, a state in which the spirit of the orisha summoned enters the body of a practitioner. When an altar is activated, the gods have the power to come into the altar, and into the bodies of the participants of the ritual. Altar making is such a specific and valued skill in Yoruba and Santería because it is very difficult to know what, where, and how to place objects on an altar to allow it to channel an orisha.

While there aren’t many recorded altars to Ochosi, I’ve been able to uncover several accounts of what an altar might look like, or what it might have on it. One source maintains “Ochosi resides in a frying pan”, that his altar should have “deer antlers, three arrows, three dog figurines, and a small mirror”, and should be offered “smoked fish, deer, and game birds” (Núñez, 2006, 374-375).  In a conversation with Dr. Matory, he informed me that his experience was that altars to Ochosi are located low to the ground, and are often made with brambles. In this same fashion, another source describes an altar to Ochosi as a “bramblelike sacrificial shrine – dry leafless branches placed in a careful pile on the earth” (Thompson 1983, 58). While some of these reports differ, many have very similar aspects in them that can lead to a general idea of what’s expected in an altar to Ochosi – low to the ground, brambles, a bow and arrow, and smoked game.

In modern times, Ochosi has lost significance to many people. In our discussion of Ochosi, Dr. Matory also explained that hunting has become much rarer as a form of work, and is also known as work for people of lower class, who aren’t often represented as much as people of upper classes. These factors may have contributed to why worship and altars devoted to Ochosi have become much harder to find. Many scholars support this claim, suggesting that: “undoubtedly, Ochosi lost importance in Cuba because hunting as a profession lost importance” (Sandoval 2006, 288). In a world run by modern agriculture and trade, not many people earn a living through hunting anymore, and not many people build altars specifically dedicated to Ochosi anymore.

My goal in this analysis was to discuss background on Ochosi, the work that goes into creating altars in Santería, and altars to Ochosi. Discussion of Ochosi opens up even more questions – what about the rest of the orisha? What happens when altars are activated? How has the spread of Yoruba through the slave trade affected its influence in Santería? Even this small altar to a minor orisha found in the Fleming Museum can open up a whole new world of information and discovery about a religion with incredibly far reaching roots – a religion that many people aren’t even aware exists.

 

 

Bibliography:

Ayorinde, Christine. Afro-Cuban Religiosity, Revolution, and National Identity. Gainsville: University Press of Florida, 2004.

González-Wippler, Migene. Santería The Religion. New York: Harmony Books, 1989.

Manuel-Núñez, Luis. Santería Stories. New York: Spring Publications, 2006.

Matory, J. Lorand (Professor at Duke University) in discussion with the author, October 2017.

Sandoval, Mercedes Cros. Worldview, the Orichas, and Santería. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2006.

Thompson, Robert Farris. Flash of the Spirit. New York: Random House, 1983.

Wirtz, Kristina. Ritual, Discourse, and Community in Cuban Santería. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2007.

An Altar to Ochosi – The Godly Hunter in Our World

Stepping into the Fleming Museum’s Santería birthday throne, your eyes are overwhelmed with bright colors, sparkling fabrics, beaded objects, shiny crowns. Closest to the viewer, perched on the ground, the simple altar of Ochosi sits. This altar somewhat contrasts all of the elegant and elaborately decorated altars that are raised up high in the air; Ochosi’s altar is rather plain, save for his signature blue, gold, and coral beads.

Ochosi’s shrine, while simple, is also beautiful. A grey ceramic bowl sits on the ground, but holds inside a bow and arrow, and a spear adorned with those blue, golden, and coral beads that seem to draw light to them. A string of these beads of all different shapes and sizes circle the bowl, bringing dimension to the simple ceramic shape. Beside the bow and arrow, a pair of metal black manacles sit menacingly, as if daring its audience to challenge the forces of justice. A pear-shaped calabash, adorned with beads, shells, and blue ribbons rests on the floor next to the ceramic bowl: hollow, but secretive about what might be inside. A simple silk rug sits underneath the bowl and and the calabash, half a deep blue, and half golden. Next to the altar is also a horsehair whip, the handle embedded with Ochosi’s beads. This whip is unusual, as it is usually only given to orisha, or gods, of higher status, such as Obatala, Yemaya, Oya, and other royalty. Normally, Ochosi isn’t considered royalty at all, which makes this whip an abnormality. Although the altar of Ochosi has all of these beautiful and intricate details, it’s not particularly eye-catching, especially compared to the loud and embellished altars on display in the birthday throne.

I chose to study the altar of Ochosi because it called out to me. It’s the altar closest to its audience, yet it seems barren and small compared to other altars. This was what intrigued me most as I studied the altars in the Santería birthday throne. As I learned more about Ochosi, I became interested in studying how he is worshipped – what his altars look like, how his rituals are performed. In this essay I will first provide some background on Ochosi, then I will explain briefly how Santería altars are made and how they function, and what is known about altars to Ochosi.

Ochosi, sometimes spelled Oshossi or Oxossi, is the Yoruba orisha of hunting and justice. With the passage of time and with the slave trade bringing practitioners to and from other countries, Yoruba religion has spread to different cultures to form religions such as Santería, Vodou, and Candomble. This is called the African diaspora, and it refers to the spread of new religions formed by followers of Yoruba adapting to and including new cultures in their worship. Ochosi isn’t an orisha easily found – his name appears in many books, but only to mention him in passing as one of the great warrior orisha. The main legend known about Ochosi is one in which he hunts a quail to present to the gods, but his mother cooks it and eats it instead. Ochosi catches another quail, and asks for his arrow to pierce the heart of the thief who stole the first quail, and is distraught when he sees his own arrow land in the chest of his mother (Sandoval 2006, 286) (González-Wippler 2004,50-51). This tale demonstrates Ochosi’s talent at hunting and his passion for justice – two of the main attributes that he exemplifies.

Ochosi is also known for his relationship to other Orisha, particularly Osun. Osun is the orisha of iron and the forge. Mythology about Ochosi and Osun varies – some stories say that they’re brothers, but other stories maintain that they are simply very close friends. Regardless of the details, all stories place significance on the fact that these orisha are very close. The legendary blacksmith Osun forges weapons such as bows, swords, and spears, and the great hunter Ochosi uses them. The altar to Ochosi as seen in the Fleming Museum is unique in that it touches the altar of Osun, signifying their close relationship – no other altars are touching in this way.

Altars are very sacred in many religions, and Santería is no exception.`Altars, when activated, can channel orisha. Altars are often activated through song, dance, smells, foods, and more, which is why it is very important that an altar has all of the correct objects, foods, beads, etc. People performing rituals can also become “spirit possessed”, a state in which the spirit of the orisha summoned enters the body of a practitioner. In “Ritual, Discourse, and Community in Cuban Santería” by Kristina Wirtz, she discusses the feeling of a Santería ritual:

“Participants in a tambor drink rum, talk, join in the call-and-response singing, and in addition rhythmically clap, dance, and call out…Indeed, the drunk rhythms, clapping, and dancing, together with the intense sensoria of rum, sweat, heat, and bodies pressed close together certainly ripen physiological conditions for transcendent states in participants.” (Wirtz 2007,110)

Although this quote doesn’t discuss the preparation and work needed to construct an altar, it mentions the feeling of a ritual as something more than just dancing. This is the feeling of ashe – the Yoruba word for life, destiny, and power, which flows through everything. When an altar is prepared correctly, it is able to channel ashe, and the dancing and music of rituals are able to activate ashe within an altar, giving the gods the power to come into the altar, and into the bodies of practitioners.

While there aren’t many recorded altars to Ochosi, I’ve been able to uncover several accounts of what an altar might look like, or what it might have on it. One source maintains “Ochosi resides in a frying pan”, that his altar should have “deer antlers, three arrows, three dog figurines, and a small mirror”, and should be offered “smoked fish, deer, and game birds” (Núñez, 2006, 374-375).  In a conversation with Dr. Matory, to whom this birthday throne is dedicated, he informed me that his experience was that altars to Ochosi are located low to the ground, and are often made with brambles. In this same fashion, another source describes an altar to Ochosi as a “bramblelike sacrificial shrine – dry leafless branches placed in a careful pile on the earth” (Thompson 1983, 58). While some of these reports differ, many have very similar aspects in them that can lead to a general idea of what’s expected in an altar to Ochosi – low to the ground, brambles, a bow and arrow, and smoked game.

In modern times, Ochosi has lost significance to many people. In our discussion of Ochosi, Dr. Matory explained that hunting has become much rarer as a form of work, and is also known as work for people of lower class, who aren’t often represented as much as people of upper classes. These factors may have contributed to why worship and altars devoted to Ochosi have become much harder to find. Many scholars support this claim, suggesting that: “undoubtedly, Ochosi lost importance in Cuba because hunting as a profession lost importance” (Sandoval 2006, 288). In a world run by modern agriculture and trade, not many people earn a living through hunting anymore, and not many people build altars specifically dedicated to Ochosi anymore.

My goal in this analysis was to discuss background on Ochosi, the work that goes into creating altars in Santería, and altars to Ochosi. Discussion of Ochosi opens up even more questions – what about the rest of the orisha? What happens when altars are activated? How has the spread of Yoruba through the slave trade affected its influence in Santería? Even this small altar to a minor orisha found in the Fleming Museum can open up a whole new world of information and discovery about a religion with incredibly far reaching roots – a religion that most people aren’t even aware exists.

Bibliography:

Ayorinde, Christine. Afro-Cuban Religiosity, Revolution, and National Identity. Gainsville: University Press of Florida, 2004.

González-Wippler, Migene. Santería The Religion. New York: Harmony Books, 1989.

Manuel-Núñez, Luis. Santería Stories. New York: Spring Publications, 2006.

Sandoval, Mercedes Cros. Worldview, the Orichas, and Santería. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2006.

Thompson, Robert Farris. Flash of the Spirit. New York: Random House, 1983.

Wirtz, Kristina. Ritual, Discourse, and Community in Cuban Santería. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2007.

Ochosi and Santería Bibliography

Ayorinde, Christine. Afro-Cuban Religiosity, Revolution, and National Identity. Gainsville: University Press of Florida, 2004.

I found this source scanning through books in a section of the library that contained many titles relating to Santería. Much of the book discusses the political history of Cuba, and the diasporic mixing of religions that created Santería, however she also writes quite a bit about rituals of Santería, including animal sacrifice, healing, spiritual possession, and a small segment about what typically happens during initiation into the “cult” of Ochosi. While most of this book is about the politics of Cuba, and the history of Cuba, the Cuban revolution, and the influence of other countries on the development of Cuba, there are small gold mines of information relevant to my research throughout the book.

Ayorinde herself is hard to find information on, but she writes a little bit about her experiences in her books. She herself is Nigerian, yet her family in Nigeria doesn’t practice Orisha worship. According to personal anecdote, she didn’t know about orisha worship until her journey to Cuba, a country that fascinated her and helped her learn more about their culture, and in turn her own identity. She mostly sources her own interviews with Cuban people and her first hand experience of religious events. She is biased by growing up in a Muslim-Christian family, yet she seems dedicated to bringing the true stories of native Cubans to paper.

Manuel-Núñez, Luis. Santería Stories. New York: Spring Publications, 2006.

I found this source after a discussion with Pat Mardeusz, in which she recommended this book to me. It is a collection of “ancient stories” told in Santería. This book is basically a mythology book collecting legends of Santería all in one place. As a source, it is incredibly useful to me because it not only describes many of the legends of Santería including one with Ochosi, it also provides information on fetishes, power objects, dances, clothing, and offerings of every Santería orisha. This gives me a lot of insight not just into what rituals and altars to Ochosi would look like, but what might be seen on many altars and at many rituals performed in Santería. All in all, this is an invaluable source for my research.

Like many of my sources, there is not a lot of information on Luis Manuel-Núñez. He has written several books on Santería, most notably Santería Stories and Santería: Practical Guide to Afro-Caribbean Magic. He was born in Cuba, and lived there until the age of 10 until immigrating to the United States for his education. It is unclear whether or not he has ever practiced Santería himself, or if he returned to Cuba to do research on Santería after moving to the United States.

Sandoval, Mercedes Cros. Worldview, the Orichas, and Santería. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2006.

I discovered this source while looking through the section in the library with many books about Santería. This book covers the development and traditions of Santería, the orisha of Santería, and how Santería functions in the modern world. Sandoval writes at length about the rituals and traditions of many aspects of Santería such as priesthood, paraphernalia, music and dance, beliefs, and practices. She also writes about the orisha of Santería, including Ochosi. Sandoval makes a point to discuss the difference between Ochosi’s presence in Nigeria versus his presence in Cuba, and why he has lost importance in Cuban culture. This writing combined with her discussion of ritualistic practices make this a great resource for my research.

As an author, Sandoval is well known as a writer on Santería. She is a professor emeritus at the University of Miami. She spent her childhood in Cuba, and researched it throughout her teenage and adult years. She attended the University of Havana and the University of Florida, and has spent her whole life studying the religion and culture of Santería. While she is not a practitioner of Santería, she isn’t completely an “outsider”, due to the fact that she was raised in Cuba.

Research Statement: Ochosi Santería Altar

 

I have chosen to study the Cuban Santería altar to Ochosi. It is a beautiful altar with a vase decorated with blue, yellow, and coral beads, and it sits next to a bow and arrow, decorated with the same beads. Ochosi is a divine hunter, known for his arrows that never miss their mark. He represents swift and blind justice, and is close friends with Eleggua and Ogun. I would like to find out how followers of Ochosi practice honoring him, and how he impacts the daily life of followers who have either gained his favor or his disdain. For example, I would like to research when, how often, and in what manner his followers worship him, and in what circumstances he brings fortune, misfortune, or other changes to their lives in return. I believe that this research will help my reader try to see an important aspect of Santería culture and religion in Cuba from less of an outsider’s view.

While our readings have focused greatly on the spread of African diasporic religions, I plan on focusing less on how he may have changed as a result of Yoruba religion spreading to Cuba, and more on the immediate impacts that he has on his followers. Robert Farris Thompson’s Flash of the Spirit goes into some detail on the mythology of Ochosi, and even describes, “a strange, bramble-like shrine, the ojubo oshoosi, for sacrifice to Oshoosi”(Thompson, 58). Many of our readings don’t focus in on specific aspects of worship that currently occur in the world, so I believe that researching such topics will provide many interesting opportunities to view the world of Orisha worship.

To complete my research, I imagine that I’ll need lots of primary resources. I anticipate utilizing books and literary works with information about Ochosi and rituals devoted to him. I would also like to be able to find primary resources such as films or interviews that center on actual people that worship Ochosi, to get a first-hand account and hear about the experience of people that aren’t outsiders. I also believe that secondary resources could be helpful, because they could analyze the accuracy of primary sources discussing Ochosi worship, or discuss whether or not sources are written as heavily biased, or from the view of an outsider. With these sources, I believe that I could find a lot of useful information on the worship and actions of the Santería orisha Ochosi.

A Melting Pot of Religions: How Yoruba Practices Represent Other Faiths

Some of the aspects of the Oṣun-Oṣogbo festival as seen in “Sacred Journeys” may seem familiar to the American viewer who has little experience with Afro-Atlantic religion, and for good reason. Religious mixture includes traditions of different types of religions and cultures all mixed together. Due to the influence of the slave trade, a lot of these mixtures have aspects and traditions that someone who is unfamiliar with many religions will still be able to recognize. Nigeria was a central country in relation to the slave trade, and many slaves from Nigeria were sent to South, Central, and North America. Practices from all around these areas mixed with practices brought over from Nigeria, and modified versions of religions spread around the world. “Sacred Journeys” may be about viewing and understanding Yoruba culture, but there are still plenty of aspects that are recognizable to someone who doesn’t know much about Afro-Atlantic religion.

One example of religious mixture is when the two young women being inducted into a Yoruba-centric culture shaved their heads and washed with holy water as a way to symbolize their induction into a new life and religion. This is similar to the idea of Christian baptism, in which someone, often a child, has holy water sprinkled on their head to represent entering a new life. These rituals are incredibly similar, and are an example of one of several very familiar aspects of the festival that a viewer is likely to recognize, even if they haven’t studied Afro-Atlantic religions.

Another example would be the animal sacrifice. During the induction of the two young women, several people that are practiced in performing traditional rituals sacrifice a goat. This is somewhat similar to a religion such as Satanism, in which one of the most recognizable aspects to a modern viewer would be the sacrifice of an animal, often a goat. Although this isn’t the most glamorous of comparisons, it is worth noting that animal sacrifice, no matter the reason why, is a very real aspect of both of these religious practices, and could be evidence of more mixing of cultures.

It’s important to recognize the effects of the slave trade on Yoruba culture, and how it ties into some of the examples of Yoruba religion sharing characteristics with other religions. Johnson’s thoughts 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” (“Syncretism and Hybridization”, 759) shares an idea that is relevant to the effects of the slave trade. Even through losing followers, the Yoruba culture has gained a lot, in that it now has traditions and practices that encapsulate some of the culture and practices of other religions and religious mixtures. Without the loss of followers, Yoruba religion wouldn’t have developed to share aspects of more cultures and religions and to grow into a new, more diverse religion.

While Yoruba religion exists on its own, it can be easy to recognize the influences of other religions on the traditions of Yoruba religion. The strong influence of the slave trade brought diversity from many different places into practice in Yoruba culture. The mixing of different cultures, religions, and rituals all ended up merging into a beautiful and diverse festival, and having a meaningful impact on not only Yoruba, but other religions as well.

Religious Mixture in the Oṣun-Oṣogbo Festival

Some of the aspects of the Oṣun-Oṣogbo festival as seen in “Sacred Journeys” may seem familiar to the American viewer who has little experience with Afro-Atlantic religion, and for good reason. Religious mixture includes traditions of different types of religions and cultures all mixed together. Due to the influence of the slave trade, a lot of these mixtures have aspects and traditions that someone who is unfamiliar with many religions will still be able to recognize. Nigeria was a central country in relation to the slave trade, and many slaves from Nigeria were sent to South, Central, and North America. Practices from all around these areas mixed with practices brought over from Nigeria, and modified versions of religions spread around the world. “Sacred Journeys” may be about viewing and understanding Yoruba culture, but there are still plenty of aspects that are recognizable to someone who doesn’t know much about Afro-Atlantic religion.

One example of religious mixture is when the two young women being inducted into a Yoruba-centric culture shaved their heads and washed with holy water as a way to symbolize their induction into a new life and religion. This is similar to the idea of Christian baptism, in which someone, often a child, has holy water sprinkled on their head to represent entering a new life. These rituals are incredibly similar, and are an example of one of several very familiar aspects of the festival that a viewer is likely to recognize, even if they haven’t studied Afro-Atlantic religions.

Another example would be the animal sacrifice. During the induction of the two young women, several people that are practiced in performing traditional rituals sacrifice a goat. This is somewhat similar to a religion such as Satanism, in which one of the most recognizable aspects to a modern viewer would be the sacrifice of an animal, often a goat. Although this isn’t the most glamorous of comparisons, it is worth noting that animal sacrifice, no matter the reason why, is a very real aspect of both of these religious practices, and could be evidence of more mixing of cultures.

Something else to consider is the influence of the religious institutions so close to the celebrations of the Oṣun-Oṣogbo festival. In Nigeria, many churches and mosques exist very close to the places in which these festivals are occurring, and many people mention how the churches are always trying to get others to convert. While the interactions between these religious groups seem somewhat hostile in their attempts to get conversions, it brings to light the idea that perhaps in their attempts to convert followers of Oṣun, maybe the other religious institutions have spread aspects of their own religions that got enveloped into existing traditions of Yoruba culture. This relates to Johnson’s idea 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” (“Syncretism and Hybridization”, 759). Different religious institutions may affect each other, and “losses” might be symbolized as people converting to other religions. This most likely had an effect on how the culture of the Oṣun-Oṣogbo festival developed, as all of the factors incorporated into the religion and culture all added up to the festival that we see today.

-Tessa Barnett