The Animistic Afro-Brazilian religion Candomble is concentrated in the Bahia State of central-coastal Brazil. I decided to learn more about it at its most authentic in Cachoeira, a little visited village a couple of hours outside of Salvador, Bahia, and along the old slave-trade route.
Candomble has its roots in various African belief systems, but its modern incarnation is a direct result of enslaved Africans who carried their beliefs and superstitions with them when shipped to Brazil, starting in the 16th century. The mixing of different African beliefs, specifically those of the Yoruba, Fon and Bantu, their adaptation to circumstances in the new world, and certain incorporations of Catholocism, resulted in what we today acknowledge as the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomble.
Candomble contains no holy scripture, therefore has been passed down orally over the centuries. They are monotheistic in the sense that they hold one God, Oludomare, to reign supreme, but the religion in practice revolves more around lesser gods, known as Orishas by the Yoruba sects of Candomble. The Orishas possess priests and worshipers during ceremonies. The religion is predominantly Animistic, meaning they worship non-human forms, especially animals. Orishas are often manifested as specific animals and ceremonial costumes are used to represent this connection to the combined natural and spiritual world.
I arrived in Cachoeira on Saturday morning, having heard Saturday and Sunday nights were the ritual nights. It took nearly the whole day, but I finally talked to the right people and received an invitation to view a ceremony at the Ile Axe Oxumare temple that evening. The Ile Axe Oxumare are a member of the Yoruba sect of Candomble, as opposed to the temples that have adopted more Fon and Bantu beliefs. At about 7pm I arrived in the courtyard of a modest white house on the outskirts of town. The doors and passageways were all painted blue, and the letters identifying the place were in blue and silver. There were colorful paper flags all over the courtyard, and others were being put up inside. Two young men graciously welcomed and introduced me to other family members, and asked me to wait in the courtyard while they prepared the inside of the house for the ceremony.
The priests, soon to be vessels for Orishas, began dressed in white, with what appeared to be the head male of the house standing above the congregation chanting (the head female also seemed to have a central importance, but only sat on stage and welcomed people with hugs during the ceremony). Behind him was a band, mostly consisting of drums and a couple of cow-bell and triangle type instruments. The all-male band was consistently shuffled-up throughout the night with various other male congregation members, seemingly spontaneously when someone got that “itch” to start banging on a drum or cowbell. As for the ceremonial activities, it began with just a few members dancing around a central pillar, which was adorned with flowers, toys, and other random offerings. Soon enough though, nearly the entire congregation, male and female, old and young, was dancing around the pillar and chanting. I would estimate the congregation at approximately 70 very enthusiastic members. I shared the viewing of this ceremony with a French PhD psychology student who had been living and doing research in Cachoiera for several months, but otherwise this was a white-face-free crowd.
“Candomblé” – Oil on Canvas – 20″ x 20″ – Vannessa Circe
At supposedly random intervals, a single participant, or Orisha, would separate him or herself from the dancing group, go into some sort of trance, then start woofing, squawking, neighing, or whatever the particular nature of each Orisha required. Another member would then escort this entranced individual into the curtained-off back area of the house, and they would appear shortly afterwards in a costume of the particular animal/Orisha by which they were possessed. They would then rejoin the dancing group, but dance like the animal they were dressed as (chicken flapping wings and bobbing neck, dog doing whatever a dog does, fish moving wave-like, etc.), and occasionally halting, having a mini-seizure, and letting out an animal call. This was the first part of the ceremony.
My personal perspective and skepticism as to what was going on during this fascinating event and what I believed was actually going on inside individual minds is not really relevant, though I will say that I wasn’t looking at these people and suddenly thinking that they were truly possessed by dogs or chickens. Whether they believed it or not is a far more interesting question.
The second part of this ceremony, which doesn’t always take place, was an initiation. One man (who incidentally was clearly gay), a non-priest who was not yet qualified to be an official vessel for an Orisha, went into a deep trance, falling to the floor. He was taken into the back, and dressed as a blue peacock. He then came out and danced wildly around the pillar, with the congregation standing off to the side and clapping (along with the Orishas, still in costume, but suddenly no longer possessed), occasionally helping the initiate as he seemed to lose his path around the pillar. The initiate certainly had a knack for theater, and captivated the congregation for a good thirty minutes.
The cycling band continued all along, with a few very creepy older men taking over at one point (think stereotypical voodoo-skeleton looking types with crazed eyes and straw-white hair). I don’t recall exactly how the music and dancing ended, but I think it was a gradual progression of people tiring and the initiate accepting his new roll as Orisha-worthy, not a formal closing-of-ceremonies.
Afterwards, around midnight, some tasty snacks (kibe and some skewers) were served, people hung around chatting for a while, then departed. Later that night I headed to a crowded disco with an extremely vulgar guy whom I had met while having a beer on the street. While he was being disgusting, consistently saying “gostoso” in a pronounced tongue-lip-licking motion that really disturbed me, and trying to get some ugly girls to do something with me, I noticed several members of the congregation in the disco. The group included all of the priests who just one hour before had been holy Orishas, all of them dancing and drinking. I approached to say hello and thank them for inviting me to their ceremony, but in this environment they had less interest in me and I was completely ignored, this after these same people had been very kind and welcoming just shortly before. They had other animalistic rituals to attend to I suppose.
At supposedly random intervals, a single participant, or Orisha, would separate him or herself from the dancing group, go into some sort of trance, then start woofing, squawking, neighing, or whatever the particular nature of each Orisha required. Another member would then escort this entranced individual into the curtained-off back area of the house, and they would appear shortly afterwards in a costume of the particular animal/Orisha by which they were possessed. They would then rejoin the dancing group, but dance like the animal they were dressed as (chicken flapping wings and bobbing neck, dog doing whatever a dog does, fish moving wave-like, etc.), and occasionally halting, having a mini-seizure, and letting out an animal call. This was the first part of the ceremony.
My personal perspective and skepticism as to what was going on during this fascinating event and what I believed was actually going on inside individual minds is not really relevant, though I will say that I wasn’t looking at these people and suddenly thinking that they were truly possessed by dogs or chickens. Whether they believed it or not is a far more interesting question.
The second part of this ceremony, which doesn’t always take place, was an initiation. One man (who incidentally was clearly gay), a non-priest who was not yet qualified to be an official vessel for an Orisha, went into a deep trance, falling to the floor. He was taken into the back, and dressed as a blue peacock. He then came out and danced wildly around the pillar, with the congregation standing off to the side and clapping (along with the Orishas, still in costume, but suddenly no longer possessed), occasionally helping the initiate as he seemed to lose his path around the pillar. The initiate certainly had a knack for theater, and captivated the congregation for a good thirty minutes.
The cycling band continued all along, with a few very creepy older men taking over at one point (think stereotypical voodoo-skeleton looking types with crazed eyes and straw-white hair). I don’t recall exactly how the music and dancing ended, but I think it was a gradual progression of people tiring and the initiate accepting his new roll as Orisha-worthy, not a formal closing-of-ceremonies.
Afterwards, around midnight, some tasty snacks (kibe and some skewers) were served, people hung around chatting for a while, then departed. Later that night I headed to a crowded disco with an extremely vulgar guy whom I had met while having a beer on the street. While he was being disgusting, consistently saying “gostoso” in a pronounced tongue-lip-licking motion that really disturbed me, and trying to get some ugly girls to do something with me, I noticed several members of the congregation in the disco. The group included all of the priests who just one hour before had been holy Orishas, all of them dancing and drinking. I approached to say hello and thank them for inviting me to their ceremony, but in this environment they had less interest in me and I was completely ignored, this after these same people had been very kind and welcoming just shortly before. They had other animalistic rituals to attend to I suppose.
