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Ivarius Faldine ([personal profile] climbingivy) wrote2007-04-09 04:24 pm

Thoughts and figures

Voodoo was alive and flourishing during the years I resided in New Orleans. The sister of my dearest friend was the Voodoo Queen; it only made sense that I should be exposed to the method and form of the religion, plural in versions though it was. Of what I could derive from Olympe (January's sister), the religion evolved in the tribes of West Africa, a mesh of ancestor worship and reverence for the deities of nature. The over-arching figure of the religion was the loa or lwa, believed to be a single spirit that worked through all things. It was the loa these people called upon when slavery found their tribes and trapped them, chained them, tearing them away from field and home to America.

Among these people were herbalists, priests, midwives, all carrying the gods of their homeland. They also retained the knowledge of how to petition the loa thousands of miles from their native homes. Such knowledge was a treasure to them, closely held to breast as the very last strength and connection they had to the society they once knew. The strength of this religion showed through music and dance, in healing and other forms of charms and invocation. Not all slave owners enforced Christianity upon their workers; the belief did not get stamped out as many other things did. Spelling was, regretfully, one of the aspects that the creole French and the English of the time swept beneath the rug. Most researchers fall to researching the Haiti practices. I couldn't begin to give what terms I knew to Lexi, French or any language ends up getting filtered out of my vocabulary when I front and she's never been exposed to/immersed in them.

What encounters I had with voodoo were almost fully accidental, save for one. I took to flirting with this fellow's lady friend and he discovered, eventually, and bought a curse from his sister or cousin. Olympe later informed me I was damned to a life of loneliness and despair, my fertility lost to me. I didn't pay mind to it at the time, though now I wonder if there was any truth to the curse. If so, it rises only in those dark hours of the night when nary another soul lies awake but myself and my thoughts. Remus thinks his insomnia a curse all on its own, and I sadly must admit to selfishness. I was happy to have someone to talk to in those small hours before the dawn, for those are indeed the loneliest hours of the day.

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