The Altar of My Soul

by Marta Moreno Vega

  “One day, our next-door neighbors held a ceremony for Shangó. The drummers were playing the batá drums with so much power that the walls by my bed vibrated. The rhythm of the drums and Shangó put me into possession. Shangó took me into the ceremony, saying that I must initiate immediately in order to save my life. He wanted to cure my sickness.

  “Friends at the ceremony told my parents of Shangó’s message. Desperately concerned about my worsening health, they decided to follow Shangó’s instructions. My parents arranged immediately to have our neighbors perform the initiation ceremony. Shangó kept his promise; he cured me during the first week of my initiation. The blackouts stopped, food remained in my stomach, and soon I regained my strength. Let me tell you, by the end of the week I had gained five pounds. When I was presented to the community at the coming-out ceremony, el día del medio, everyone was amazed at my healthy, robust appearance. Maferefun Shangó, praise be to Shangó. To this day, my orisha has kept his word.

  “In life, Shangó was a king of the city of Oyo,”Guillermo told me. “Shangó was born a warrior, and that is why he carries the oché, the double-headed ax, on his head. Shangó is amiable, loves to dance, and is the owner of the batá drums. He celebrates life to the fullest and, therefore, does not want to know of suffering or death. He controls fire and manifests in nature through thunder and lightning. One of the powers of Shangó that is not often spoken of is his generosity. When his children are in trouble, he comes to their rescue.” As I listened to Guillermo that day, it occurred to me that patakís are a way of establishing a common set of values, and a code of ethical behavior for the international community of initiates. Through these stories, issues that most of us face on a daily basis are addressed and resolved. The orishas’ escapades are very human and provide ways of addressing interpersonal relationships.

  Our time with Guillermo was part of a centuries-old process of sharing and building community. He knew that Zenaida would bring only visitors that she deemed worthy of his knowledge and time. As it came time to leave, Guillermo reminded us, “Orisha is love, faith, and commitment.” Zenaida told him we were going to meet with Panchita. As Guillermo escorted us to the door, he waved good-bye and told us to give Panchita his regards.

  A priestess of the orisha Ochun, Panchita lived just three blocks away, and we walked along the unpaved road to her home. We found her placing sunflowers on Ochun’s altar. Though Panchita was seventy-five years old, her agile movements, youthful appearance, and constant laughter made her appear to be in her early sixties. She was dressed in a white-and-yellow gingham dress with embroidered trim, her head wrapped in a scarf of the same material, and her blue-black skin was radiant.

  Panchita’s small, four-room frame house, similar to the others I had been in, showed the ravages of age and the lack of raw materials available to mend deteriorating fences and freshen up peeling paint. Inside, the walls, which had once been a vibrant lemon color, were now discolored.

  Over the years, Panchita had collected an array of utensils and furniture that celebrated the golden color of Ochun. On the wall over her stove, she had a decorative yellow teakettle clock that no longer worked. Flowers made of yellow tissue paper were placed throughout the house. Stiffened, hand-crocheted yellow doilies in the shapes of flowers were displayed on her kitchen table. Her home, like the others, was cozy, warm, inviting, and charged with spiritual energy.

  In all of the homes we visited, the extraordinary will of the initiates was obvious in their attempts to surmount all barriers and adversity in order to gather the objects that celebrate their orishas. Their undying faith in Santería provided the inner strength to win the small daily victories they faced in acquiring the objects that reflected their devotion. With each visit, my desire to learn more of this devotion grew, as the beauty of spirit and faith unfolded before me through the worlds of the elders.

  Panchita welcomed us warmly, rejoicing in the opportunity to share her unending love affair with Ochun. She led us immediately to the altar to salute Ochun. Panchita’s altar was in the living room for all to see. In a sunburst of yellow, a tureen that held the sacred stones of Ochun was placed on a large wooden bureau. Her altar was decorated with yellow fans, peacock feathers, and sunflowers. It was surrounded by a golden yellow cloth covered with sequins. The light from the two burning candles shining on the cloth gave the altar a sparkling effect. Following Zenaida’s lead, I prostrated myself before the altar and saluted Ochun. Panchita gave me her blessing and hugged me when I stood up.

  Then we sat on overstuffed cloth chairs that Panchita must have purchased in the early fifties. Zenaida, animated by the success of her day’s mission, told Panchita what had happened with Chela and Guillermo. Panchita nodded her approval.

  Then Panchita turned to me, her eyes riveted on mine. “Yalorde, another name for Ochun, lets us know that she is a queen. Like Yemayá, she is royalty. Yalorde is loved by everyone because of her delightful manner. Her domain is fresh water, and she loves gold, sweet candy, perfume, and romance. She knows the secrets of all the orishas; therefore, they have great respect for her.” With her fingers to her lips, Panchita whispered, “The orishas don’t want her revealing their secrets. This is why she is the savior of the world.” Laughing delightedly, Panchita told me this patakí.

  “When the sky fought with the Earth, the sky decided to teach Earth a lesson. So the sky created floods that caused all of the riches on Earth to be destroyed. Earth soon realized her folly, and asked the birds to take a message to the supreme god, Olodumare. The message was that Earth wanted Olodumare to forgive her, and she promised to always listen to the sky.

  “Although the birds tried and tried, they could not get to Olodumare with Earth’s message. When the vulture heard about the other birds’ failed attempts, she volunteered to go to Olodumare’s home; the birds laughed, saying it was impossible that such a dirty, ugly creature would be allowed into the beautiful kingdom of Olodumare.

  “Ah, but the proud birds were unaware that in one of her many transformations, caminos, Ochun takes on the form of a vulture. And so it was that Ochun, as a vulture, took Earth’s message to Olodumare. It is in this story that Ochun becomes the messenger of Olodumare and saves the Earth.”

  Pausing to catch her breath, Panchita then explained, “People are too often guided by the exterior, by how a person looks. They don’t take time to look within. Ochun reminds us that beauty comes in many forms. That ultimately, true beauty is found in the loving behavior and care that is shared among people. Too often, initiates look only at the surface frivolity of Yalorde, ignoring the fact that through her sweetness she can often accomplish the impossible.”

  The power of the religion is that the orishas address the concerns faced by ordinary people. No issue is insignificant if it creates a problem in the life of the initiate. In my opinion, the power of the religion lies in understanding that we all have strengths and weaknesses and that we must learn to accept them and then work at changing our frailty into a source of power. Santería recognizes that even a source of strength can turn into a deficiency if improperly used. So it is important for the practitioners to understand the source of their aché in order to nurture and keep themselves spiritually balanced.

  I smiled to myself. The patakí was enchanting and reminded me of the old line, “You can attract more bees with honey than with vinegar.”

  The duality of aché is explained in one of the stories of how Ochun enticed Oggun, the orisha of iron, out of the woods. According to the patakí, Ochun is the owner of honey and it is with honor that she conquers all her battles. It is said that Oggun took refuge in the mountains because he didn’t like the way the orishas were behaving on Earth. One by one, all of the orishas tried to entice him out of his hiding place, but each of the orishas failed to find the secret hideaway Oggun had made deep in the mountains. When, at last, Ochun fearlessly ventured into the mountains, she found his hiding place. She tried to persuade him to come with her, but Oggun refused to
leave. However, when Ochun seductively placed honey on his lips, he followed her straight out of the mountains. The moral of the story is that gentle strength is a source of power; it is important to recognize when to use gentle persuasion and when to be direct. Through the patakís, I was understanding a new way of looking at situations, one that made it clear that life is not black and white, but has many shades.

  Panchita then told me she was born into a family of initiates and had always been involved with the Santería community. Surrounded by the orishas all her life, she spoke of them as if they were part of her immediate family. Her parting words to me were: “Remember that the orishas teach us about the world. They are the world to me.”

  Walking to our next destination, Zenaida and I relived the conversations we had been having that day. As we laughed like childhood friends, I was truly enjoying a new spiritual light-heartedness. And Zenaida was pleased that I had established a wonderful affinity with the elders, encouraged that I valued the importance of the stories.

  In the two weeks I was in Cuba, Zenaida made certain that I experienced as much as possible. Within those two weeks, my life was transformed, and the separate pieces of my life—my growing experiences, my work, and my spiritual quest—finally came together. I felt complete. It felt as if I had known Elpidio and Zenaida all my life. I was home.

  A Message from My Elders

  The objective of divination is to solve a given problem. Elpidio explained to me that four basic systems of divination have survived in the Americas, and all have their origins in West Africa. Each of the systems uses different objects to divine. All of the systems were derived from the same stem, sixteen odu symbols that require that the diviner commit to memory the knowledge contained in the odu patterns; a wide knowledge of many patakís; and ese, divination verses and their myraid variations. Diviners are trained experts in reading the odu that identify the particular patakí to help resolve their client’s problem.

  Depending upon the pattern formed when the objects (ikins; divining chain; cowry shells; or obi, coconut pieces) are cast, the diviner is able to identify the particular pattern and find the corresponding patakí to solve the client’s problem. The most intricate systems are the ones used by the babalawo, who divine with sixteen ikins and the divining chain. The next is the system used by trained santero diviners, oriates, who use sixteen cowries. The basic system used by most initiates is divining with four pieces of coconut, obi, or kola nuts.

  Other systems used in Santería include messages through dreams and possession by spirits and orishas. Answers to problems can also be acquired from elders, who have developed a high level of intuitive power and are able to interpret the energy field that surrounds you.

  The process used to answer basic questions is generally the obi system, which uses four pieces of coconut or four pieces of kola nut. The patterns made by the four pieces when tossed to the floor determine the answer to the question.

  Alafia is the term used when all the white pieces of the coconut fall faceup: When the four white sides are visible, the answer to the question is yes. However, it is recommended that the obi be cast again to confirm. This pattern indicates that the energy surrounding you is positive.

  Etawa indicates that three white sides and one dark side are visible. When this is the outcome, the response is probably yes. Generally positive, but something is missing. Another toss of the obi is required to determine the final answer. The energy surrounding you is positive, but caution is indicated.

  Eyife is the term that indicates that two white sides and two dark sides are visible. The response when this occurs after a toss is a definite yes. Everything is perfect, and positive energy surrounds you.

  Ocana Sorde indicates that three dark sides and one white side are visible. This means a definite no. Caution is advised. Further tossing of the obi is necessary to determine how to balance your energy.

  Oyekun indicates that four dark sides are visible. When this is the outcome, the response is no, and that a spirit needs to be attended to. The obi must be thrown again to determine what the spirit requires. This pattern requires immediate attention to the spiritual problem negatively affecting your energy field.

  According to our legends, Orí went before Olodumare and asked to come to Earth. Olodumare granted the wish with specific conditions. Before birth, every soul would be summoned before Olodumare to select an Orí. The Orí selected by the soul would determine that person’s destiny. This destiny would never change. If the destiny selected determined that the person would live for fifty years, this would not vary. However, Olodumare agreed that the person’s life could be influenced, for the better, if he or she followed the teachings of Ifá, Orula.

  Olodumare further decided that, when the person came to Earth, all memory of having selected the Orí would be forgotten. And upon the person’s death, Orí would be required to return to heaven to await being selected by another person about to be born.

  Doña Rosa, enjoying our conversation, said, “Do you realize that throughout the world there are millions of initiates who have the sacred aché of the orishas? I wonder how many there are.” Teasingly, I said, “Doña Rosa, if everyone has Orí, then everyone has orisha.” Pondering my comment, she responded seriously, “You say this in jest, but this is true; we all have Orí, we all have a destiny. Eighteen years ago, did you think you would be sitting in my humble kitchen preparing to become a madrina?”

  As we walked toward the site of Javier’s initiation, where we planned to meet Ernesto and Elpidio, Zenaida and I were elated by the words the elders had shared with us. She told me that sometimes the elders refused to talk with beginners. We were lucky that they had been in a sharing mood and obviously thought it was worth their time to speak in my presence.

  When we met Elpidio, he was delighted and surprised that our conversations had gone well. As we headed back to their apartment, Elpidio and Zenaida got into a friendly competition. Teasing her, he said, “I hope the conversations left orishas for me to discuss with my goddaughter.”

  Zenaida quickly responded, “There is so much to be discussed in this short week.” Opening her eyes wide, she continued, “I want my goddaughter to receive as much information as possible before she leaves us.”

  They functioned as one person, starting and completing each other’s thoughts, and it seemed that since Elpidio and Zenaida were crowned with Obatalá, they both possessed the wise characteristics of this orisha.

  We sat around the kitchen table, tired but still excited by the wonderful day we had had. Elpidio rested his head in his hands as he watched Zenaida place glasses of cool water on the table. “My daughter, there is one concept that I want you to take with you, and it is that we all have orisha and are sacred,” he said enthusiastically, as if the words themselves carried energy. “I do not care what religion a person follows, all I know is that each and every one of us is sacred because we have Orí,” he continued, his face taking on a stern expression. “Each one of us has come to this Earth with a destiny that must be fulfilled. Santería helps us understand our destiny and how to best live out our destiny on Earth.” Tapping his hand on the table, he concluded, “Learn why you came to Earth. Understand what you must accomplish while you are here. Listen to the teachings of Orula so you can achieve the most from your life. This is the power of Santería.”

  Zenaida nodded her head in agreement and said, “There is so much to learn in this religion.” Looking toward the tureens that held the sacred stones of her orishas, she added, “There is nothing greater than to understand your destiny. When I initiated, my Orí and each of the five orishas that were given to me spoke through the odus cast by the oriate’s cowry shells. Together, the odus formed the text, the bible, that I follow.”

  Elpidio then quietly added, “This is why Zenaida and I wanted you to speak with the elders, so you could see for yourself how they have lived out their destinies by following the teachings of Ifá and the guidance of their orishas. Santería is a religi
on that holds you accountable for your actions on Earth, here and now. How you live your life on Earth will determine how enlightened your afterlife will be.”

  I was exhausted and ready for bed. Zenaida smiled, then said, “Your room is ready.”

  Lying on the neat, white bedcovers, recording my notes for the day, I began to feel the now familiar pins-and-needles sensation rising from the bottoms of my feet to the top of my head. This time I was not apprehensive, letting the feeling take over my body. Slowly, the room filled with a soft, shimmering white light that told me my spirits would soon appear. Then my abuela, the older woman, and my mother appeared, all dressed in immaculate white clothing.

  The three of them were moving slowly in a tight circle, almost as if they were floating above the floor. Holding hands with their backs to me, they seemed to be deciding whether they would change the direction of the dance.

  They opened the circle, and the older woman with the tribal markings on her face looked directly at me with piercing, glowing eyes, her gentle expression both commanding and loving. I saw etched on her cheekbones the deep black scars of her tribe.

  She quietly approached me, placing my hand in hers. As I joined the circle, she said, “Welcome, my great-granddaughter; I have been waiting a long time for you. I have traveled a long way. I am María de la O, your great-grandmother.” The soft, soulful penetrating beat of the batá drums played in the air, and in the distance, voices of women began singing one of the songs of praise to Obatalá.

  Baba Elerífa Odúmila Gbogbo Iworo Baba Elerí Ifá … Father, owner of privileged heads, give blessings to all who eat sacrificial meat. Father, owner of privileged heads, give blessing to all who follow the teachings of Ifá.