by Mambo Racine Sans Bout Sa Te La Daginen
La Sirene is the Mother of All, the Queen of the Seas. With her husband, the lwa Met Agwe Tawoyo, she owns the wealth of the sea — the coral, the minerals, the abundant marine life, the gold of sunken galleons. In every kanzo ceremony performed by the Roots Without End Society, the initiates travel to the beach at Jacmel to make service to La Sirene. This is what happened in February 2004.
The post was written by Mambo Racine from Jacmel, Haiti, and posted to alt.religion.voodoo on February 17, 2004. It is a jewel — a story about a lwa intervening to save a life, and about the song that the living made for her afterward.
Yesterday I went to a lovely beach on Haiti's southern coast to offer service to La Sirene, as I do in every kanzo. The beach was beautiful, with its curving coconut palms and pale beige sand. The water was crystal clear and turquoise blue, with a slight surf running.
My initiates and I, all dressed in blue satin and white lace, danced for La Sirene. She came, and so did another lwa, but that is a story for later. Today I am telling you about Charity, the drummer.
Charity (Charite in Creole) is a little tiny old man, barely four feet tall, seventy years old if he is a day. But he is spry! And he can play drums like all get out. Not only that, but when the Sanpwel society in our neighborhood has a dance, he is the one who carries on his shoulder the sekey madoule, the sacred coffin of the Sanpwel.
Charity came to the beach with the rest of our drummers, and played. When La Sirene came, she went into the ocean as she usually does, and my children followed her. The drummers too! Everyone wanted to swim with La Sirene, including Charity. He told the other drummers he knows how to swim.
Shortly Charity was in over his four-foot-high head, dog-paddling, gulping water, being carried farther and farther out by the current. I am told La Sirene turned from the group and swam after him like an otter, covering the distance to the drowning man in an incredibly short time. Another young man, also a strong swimmer, came out to assist, and Charite was safely brought to shore.
"The next time you come here," said La Sirene to the assembled, hushed crowd that had witnessed the rescue, "feed me on land before you go into the water. When someone drowns, I send my children, the fish, to eat them. But I will not eat Charite, because he is a drummer and he plays in my service."
Then La Sirene returned to her activities in the sea with the initiates. Later, when she left and I was in my right senses again, all the initiates were so happy that together we made up a song, right on the spot, and we will certainly sing it in the upcoming Rara festival:
La Sirene ki sove Charite nan la me,
La Sirene ki sove Charite nan la me,
Charite! Map noye o!
Charite! Map bwe dlo, amwe!
La Sirene, mama, ki sove Charite nan la me.
La Sirene who saved Charity in the sea,
La Sirene who saved Charity in the sea,
Charity! I'm drowning, oh!
Charity! I'm drinking water, oh help!
La Sirene, mama, who saved Charity in the sea.
Charity went home happy — but late that night, one single fright took him! He began to tremble, his blood ran cold, as the full realization of his near-death came over him. To the enormous amusement of the entire neighborhood, Charity this very morning declared that he will not play drums with Hilaire's group any more, because it must have been Hilaire who sold him as a sacrifice to La Sirene, and Mambo Racine doesn't know!
This morning we practically had to tie cloth around our abdomens, we were laughing so hard our sides were hurting! But the important thing is that poor old Charity is safe.
Peace and love,
Bon Mambo Racine Sans Bout Sa Te La Daginen
Se bon ki ra — Good is rare. Haitian Proverb
Colophon
Archived from alt.religion.voodoo. Message-ID: <[email protected]>. Posted February 17, 2004. Archived by the Good Works Library.
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