Suriname folk-lore

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11. Gods and Familiar Spirits¹

1 Consult the article Winti in Encyc., pp. 750-751, Penards (I), and Van Lier, passim.

a) the nature of the wɩnti

Divination, then, is an essential factor in the system of beliefs of the Paramaribo town Negroes, for it is through the work of the diviner that all the elements of this system are drawn together, explained, and controlled. These elements are four in number, - the akra, or the soul; the wɩnti, or the gods; obia and wisi, or good and evil magic; and the Yɔrka, or the spirits of the dead. Having considered the concept of the soul and its place in the lives of these people, let us now turn to an examination of the nature, manifestations and significance of the wɩnti.

‘Wɩnti,’ say the Negroes, ‘mean wind. Wind is every place. Is air (breath). The spirit, too, is everywhere. So we says wɩnti.’ The term, as we shall see, defines the gods and spirits which rule the destiny of the universe.² Among the Bush-Negroes, though the word wɩnti, - also spoken there as wenti, or wintu - has the same significance as among the Negroes of Paramaribo, the gods are usually designated by the term gadō. This latter name is heard in Paramaribo as well, though except in ritual song, it occurs usually in the exclamation ‘Mi gadō!’ in daily speech. Another term heard is that of vɔdų,³ (pronounced also fɔdų), though in the city this word has in addition to the specialised meaning of the Saramacca Negroes which makes it a generic name for snake deities, the generalised meaning that makes it synonymous with wɩnti. Vɔdų is a word used especially when it is wished to disguise the fact that sacred spirits are being invoked, and in such a case, the play on words, which makes fɔdų mean, in Negro-English, ‘things that fall down’, that is, litter or trash, is utilised. Thus, they sing,

Wi wani si dem fɔdų na djari,
Wi wani si dem, ba.

We want to see the fɔdų in the yard,

We want to see them, brother.

A fourth term which has currency is that of kɔmfo. When referring to a kɔmfo, a person says, ‘Mi 'abi wą bigi Nɛŋgɛre-kɔnde kɔmfo, - I have a great African spirit.’ Kɔmfo is not, however, a synonym for the word wɩnti, and is identified only with specialised spirits, among them being those called Indian wɩnti. In addition to all these

2 This identification of the gods and spirits with wind or air was found by us in Dahomey, where the Fɔ̨ word djo, which means wind, is often employed as the term for ‘god’.

3 Vodų in Dahomey is the term for ‘deity’.

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designations, the wɩnti songs in the Kromanti language, also give the name bosum or abɔsmo¹ for wɩnti or god.

Let us examine the types of wɩnti that fill the universe of the Suriname town Negro. Though among the Bush-Negroes the term Massa Gran Gadō (Supreme God) occurs repeatedly in conversation and prayer, it is but seldom that a Sky-god is invoked in Paramaribo. The only reference there to the Sky is in the wɩnti dances to the Tap-Kromanti, that is to say, to the Kromanti gods of the Sky, who comprise the seven Thunder gods. These thunder gods are Tata Yao,² Tata Aladi (or Alada), Tata Wɛse (or Muwɛse), Tata Abonuako (or Akoabonua), Tata Anąŋka Yao, Sofia Bada,³ and Ta S'rąnami.

The Earth gods are headed by the Mama fō Grɔ̨, the Earth-Mother, who even in ritual is referred to by this euphemism and named only in songs sung by those who are actually under possession. The names given this deity are many, and this is accounted for only partially by the fact that in Paramaribo, as in the bush, deities have their ‘strong’ or numąn names which may be known only to a few who are initiated, and employed only in ritual⁴. The Earth-Mother possesses a large number of these ‘strong’ names, and this it appears is due to the fact that in Paramaribo are to be found the descendants of persons who derive from various regions of West Africa. Those most frequently heard in ritual are Asasɛ,⁵ Agida, Aida, Waisa, Aisa or Awąnaisa,⁶ and we have listened to persons who perhaps come from families carrying the traditions of two different regions dispute heatedly as to the ‘true’ name of the Mama fō Grɔ̨. One of these persons, who definitely claims descent from a Dahomean family, insisted that the Dahomean names just given are the correct ones. The point must be made, however, that so feared is the Earth-Mother, and so great are her powers, that there is the utmost reluctance to speak her name, and young people are never encouraged to question about these designations. The names that occur most often for the Earth gods as a group are Agida, Aisa or Awąnaisa, Loko,⁷ and the Grɔ̨ Ɩ̨ŋgi.

Worship of the Grɔ̨ Mama, or the Ma fō Doti (Earth-Mother, or Mother of the Soil) differs from that of most of the other gods, in that while the majority of gods receive offerings from, and are

1 This is, of course, the Gold Coast obosom, the Twi word for god.

2 Tata means ‘father’.

3 Badɛ is youngest and most powerful member of the So (Thunder) pantheon of Dahomey. In Dorsainvil's list (p. 39), Zofi-Bade appears as one of the voodoo gods in the Haitian pantheon.

4 In all West Africa, every deity, to say nothing of human beings, especially kings and chiefs, have these ‘strong’ names which are employed only on ceremonial occasions.

5 Asasɛ is the Gold Coast name for the Earth deity.

6 In Fɔ̨, Ai is the term for ‘earth’, and occurs in sacred names.

7 In Dahomey and among the Yoruba, Loko (Iroko) is the name of a sacred tree. The Loko tree in Dahomey, however, is a deity in the Mawu-Lisa pantheon, and has totemic associations for many sibs, as well.

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danced for, only by their own devotees, the Earth Mother is a godhead for all wɩnti worshippers, whatever their particular gods. To understand this, we must recognise that every plantation, every yard, every locale, is said to have its Grɔ̨ Mama, who may either be a ‘good spirit’, or a ‘bad spirit’, but who in either case must be served. The Grɔ̨ Mama is served by observing the sacred character of the place identified with her habitat, usually a kąnkąntri, (silk-cotton tree). That is to say, people refrain from polluting it in any way and also make it offerings of food and drink once a year or more often, if demands upon her are made for special favors. If angered, the Grɔ̨ Mama manifests herself as a snake, - a Dagowe or Aboma¹; as an alligator, - Kaimąn; or as an owl, - ɔru-kuku. If when she appears as a snake, let us say, a person scoffs or says ‘If I had seen it in time, I'd have killed it,’ she reappears in the person's house, with an air of challenge, ‘Here I am. Kill me, if you like!’ She might also appear in his bed at night. She can be appeased with a generous offering of eggs, and a prayer for forgiveness. ‘Mama, mi dɛ bɛgi yu nąŋga saka fasi, mi no du fō ɔgri. - Mother, I humble myself and pray you, I had not intended to do harm.’ If he should have had the misfortune to offend a bad Grɔ̨ Mama who refuses to pardon him, she appears and reappears to challenge him, finally entering his body, and thereupon speaks with the man's voice telling him that she wishes him to become her hasi,² her devotee. Should he resist her, saying he does not care to have a wɩnti, he begins to do unaccountable things, - to steal, to destroy property, to kill. A friendly and well-propitiated Grɔ̨ Mama, however, protects the inhabitants of her domain. Thus, no oath is as binding as one pronounced in her name, which is followed by the swallowing of a few drops of the blood of both parties to the oath, to which some earth had been added; nor is any threat as dangerous as that of invoking the vengeance of the Grɔ̨ Mama. Thus we heard a Negro woman say in anger to a man of Indian-White descent, ‘Luku bǫn, mi nąŋga yu habi na srɛf'-srɛfi Grɔ̨ Mama. - Take care, I and you have the selfsame Earth Mother.’

The most prevalent types of wɩnti among women in particular ire those associated with the snake, and since these enter into all the categories of wɩnti, we list them after the gods of the Sky and Earth. Of these we have Dagowe,³ Papa, Vɔdų, Hei̯-grɔ̨, Aboma, Aninino,⁴ Alado, Sɩnero, Korowena, Kwɛnda, Tobochina, and

1 Kongo mboma, python. (Bentley, p. 170).

2 Lit. horse; in Haiti choual (cheval) is used with the same significance.

3 Dagowe is the Suriname equivalent of Dągbe, an Ewe-Fɔ̨ word also used to designate a sacred snake. Dangbe is similarly employed in Haiti, (Parsons, I, and Dorsainvil). Dą is the Fɔ̨ term for a kind of serpent-like mobility, and is applied not only to snakes, but to a spirit which manifests itself in anything that is undulating. See Herskovits, M. & F., (I), pp. 56-58, for a discussion of Dą.

4 This is the sacred python, Onini, of the Ashanti.

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Cheno. The term Dagowe often serves, in the town, as a generic term for all the snake spirits, though the Dagowe snake, properly speaking, is one of the constrictor group found in the colony, and is believed by the natives to inhabit both land and water. This is, of course, good observation on their part, for this characteristic of all snakes of the boa type is well-known. Not all snakes are sacred, yet no one will kill a snake. In support of this it is said that the snake itself, whether Dagowe, Aboma (boa constrictor), or any other, is not a god, but only a potential carrier of a god, and therefore if someone kills a Dagowe, the snake itself, once dead, takes no steps to punish its murderer, but those who worship it see that the Dagowe is avenged.¹ ‘They send wisi,’ - that is, bad magic or poison. There are those, however, who hold that the Dagowe snake in particular is the wɩnti itself, for if a person kills a Dagowe snake, the winti enters the abdomen, causing it to swell, and brings eventual death to the killer. In point of fact there is no sharp distinction between the Earth deities and the Snake spirits; indeed, not alone the Earth spirits, but any spirit, may manifest itself in the form of a snake.

Though the Dagowe may take possession of either a man or a woman, the Papa snake possesses only women. The explanation given was, ‘Yu sab' sąn 'ɛdɛ Papa-gadō n'e kɩsi mąn suma? Mąn suma no meki pikin. - Do you know why the Papa God doesn't possess men? Because men don't make (i.e., give birth to) children.’ Vɔdų is said to be greater in power than the Papa spirit, while Hei̯-grɔ̨ surpasses all in strength. For this snake, which occupies mountainous regions, is thought to be the incarnation of ghostly spirits, - ‘When a Yɔrka goes into an Aboma and catches a human being, that is Hei̯-grɔ̨.’² Thus we see an illustration of the belief that ancestors, as well as gods, may use snakes as vehicles for exercising their power over human destiny. It is in this that is constituted the essential importance of the snake-cult to the Suriname town Negroes.

A fourth group of wɩnti are those which are associated with the river. This group, as all others, overlap the Snake gods, since the constrictor lives in the water as well as on land. However, there are other gods, among them the kaimą, which are peculiar to the rivers alone. The river-gods are headed by the Liba-Mama, or Watra-

1 This follows Dahomean pratice, where, if someone by a willful act does what is hateful to a vodų, the members of all the vodų cults go into a state of frantic possession, shouting the name of the guilty one at all the crossroads and at the shrines of all the gods, until a purification dance is held. This last takes place when the vodų is avenged, that is, when the offender is dead or insane.

2 This statement reveals the identity of the Hei̯-grɔ̨ snake spirit with the Dahomean deity called Dambala Hwedo, which also takes the form of a serpent that lives in mountains and is a manifestation of the spirit of an ancient ancestor.

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Mama, respectively Mother of the River, or Mother of the Water, who, again, is not referred to by name. Among the Saramacca tribe of Bush-Negroes, the river-gods go under the generic name of Tonɛ, and this name, like the name from the interior for the gods in general, is also sometimes employed in Paramaribo.¹ In one instance at least, when a woman under possession was singing to what she called Ɩ̨ŋgi, - Indian - wɩnti, she sang,

Da-i Tonɛ na liba-e
Da-i Tonɛ na liba-o
Den liba Fɔdų masi mi,
Da-i Tonɛ na liba-e
Den liba Kwɛnda masi mi,
Da-i Tonɛ na liba-o
Da Liba Mama masi mi,
Da-i Tonɛ na liba-o.

The Tonɛ spirits are in the river-e

The Tonɛ spirits are in the river-o

The river Vɔdų crush me,

The Tonɛ spirits are in the river-o

The river Kwɛnda crush me,

The Tonɛ spirits are in the river-o

The River-Mother crushes me,

The Tonɛ spirits are in the river-o.

The Tonɛ, it is said, are the river Dagowe, and all these are included in the term ‘water-Ɩ̨ŋgi’. One of these river spirits sung to is called Abo, and the rest are the Ɩ̨ŋgi spirits, Yąŋki, Kobisi, Frɛpsi, among others. We have already commented upon the powers ascribed to the Indian spirits. This is definitely in the African tradition, and follows what seems to be a deep-seated African pattern of belief which is manifest practically throughout all of West Africa, if not in other portions of the continent as well.² Among the Saramacca Bush-Negroes, little reference is made to Indian spirits, for here the tradition exists that the ancient ancestors had themselves cleared the land, deepened the channels of the river, and caused the great forests to spring up.

1 Through a transposition of vowels, it is possible that the Twi name for the most sacred of all rivers, Tano, the parent of numerous deities, has here become Tonɛ. Cf. Rattray, (II), passim, and Cardinal, (I), pp. 49ff. It is also to be remarked that the Fɔ̨ word to means ‘water’.

2 See on this point, Delafosse, (I), ch. V., especially the section entitled ‘Le Régime Foncier.’ The same attitude as is described here is found on the part of the Dahomeans toward the spirits of those persons who represent the aboriginal inhabitants of their country.

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Next, in the list of Paramaribo deities, come the Kromanti¹ gods. These comprise Opɛte,² the vulture; Tigri,³ the jaguar, sometimes called Dyɛbi or Dyadya; Obia-Kromanti; Nɛ̨ŋgɛre-kɔ̨ndre Kromanti (African Kromanti); Busi-Kromanti (Bush Kromanti): and Ɔ̧ndrowatra Kromanti (the Kromanti spirits who live under the water).⁴ The thunder deities, of which we have spoken, are also classed in this Kromanti group. The designation Kromanti, as used in Paramaribo, though often employed as a synonym for ‘African’ gods, is, nevertheless, the name for a distinct category, and seems to relate to warrior and disciplinary elements in nature. Thus comment is made that Kromanti dancing is hɛbi, - ‘difficult’ - that is, ‘strong’, or dangerous. Kromanti devotees are immune to bullet wounds; when they are under possession a knife cannot cut them, thorns cannot lacerate their flesh, or fire burn them, or glass cut them. The Kromanti wɩnti are conceived as powerful spirits, who when they possess human beings, cause them to speak African words not intelligible to the uninitiated. The section on music contains Kromanti songs in the Kromanti language.

In still another category are to be found the gods of the bush. The most dreaded of these are the Akantamasu, who live in anthills. There are thought to be three types of these, - those who live in the ground, those who live in trees, and those who live in holes. Another group of bush-spirits are the Apuku, the little people of the bush. In town, though this name is heard both in reference and in song, the designation for these is also Bakru. There is no uniform opinion, however, that the two are identical. Those who hold that they are make the distinction that there are Bakru whom ‘God’ makes, and those are the Apuku; and there are Bakru whom sorcerers make, and those are the messengers of black magic. Whether we consider these as two groups or one, reference is made to the ‘little people’ in both instances. Belief also exists that there is a group of Apuku who live in the water. This, however, seems to have little currency

1 This term is derived from the Gold Coast. It is a well-known fact that one group of slaves were called Coromantines, and there was a kingdom of Coromantyn in the present colony of the Gold Coast. The word is well known in Jamaica and throughout the West Indies. Thus, Edwards, vol ii, p. 75, speaks of ‘the Koromantyn, or Gold Coast, Negroes...’ For an ingenious theory as to the origin of the New World significance of the term see Williams, (I), p. 9.

2 Opete is a Twi word for vulture, and is in use among the Ashanti-Fanti peoples of the Gold Coast. The sacred character of the vulture is widespread in West Africa and among the New World Negroes. In Dahomey, Togoland, and the Gold Coast the vulture is the messenger who takes sacrifices to the gods; the vulture is sacred in Jamaica; and even in the Sea Islands of the United States to ‘jump Jim Crow’ is to dance a vulture-dance.

3 The leopard is sacred in all of West Africa, where it is often identified with royalty. In Dahomey it is the totem animal of the royal sib and is thus accorded the rank of a powerful deity.

4 These are not to be confused with the river spirits proper.

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in general knowledge or in ritual practice, and would appear to be a belief that, at most, is restricted to one group of Negroes.¹ Another of these bush spirits is that of the kąnkąntri, the silk-cotton tree.² There are differing opinions as to why this tree is sacred. One view is that it is worshipped as the home of the Earth-Mother, another because the tree itself has a wɩnti known as Kąnkąntri wɩnti, which at times sends out a ‘fireman’ who is seen as a wave of flame that disappears if someone stands watching it fixedly. Another holds that the silk-cotton tree is important because people who die without having heirs to whom to leave then wɩnti send these wɩnti to live in silk-cotton trees. A fourth is that the tree is sacred only because the Dagowe snake lives in it, and that when food is placed as an offering at the foot of one of these trees, it is not for any spirit in the tree itself, but for the spirit of the Dagowe.

These, then, are the principal categories of deities which the Paramaribo Negroes worship. Through matings between these wɩnti, however, there result offspring who give rise if not to categories which are distinctly new, then to new alignments in behavior and function of these resulting gods, since they inherit their powers and attributes from both parents. For the wɩnti are thought of as living in families. The only direct reference to this in the city is to the seven Thunder gods we have named, who are spoken of as ‘na sɛbi opruru brada, - the seven thunder brothers’. In discussing dancing for the snake wɩnti, we shall see the point made that male snakes mate with the Earth gods, and the female snakes with the deities of the Sky.

Some of the wɩnti that are not classifiable under the categories we have mentioned can be comprised under the heading of Nɛ̨ŋgɛre-kɔ̨ndre wɩnti, - African spirits. Foremost among these is Lɛba, about whom two different concepts exist.³ One of these is that Lɛba is the god of the cross-roads.⁴ The second opinion holds that Lɛba ‘is like a lock against bad spirits’, and that it is a wɩnti left in a tree by some person who either had no children or relatives to whom he might leave the wɩnti, or who did not feel that these children or relatives would worship the wɩnti properly. When such

1 Possibly the Dahomean tɔxɔsu cult is here found merely as a vague tradition; see Herskovits, M.J. and F.S. (I), pp. 29-31.

2 The silk-cotton tree is sacred throughout West Africa, and in Dahomey is revered because the souls of ancestors are held to have taken their residence in them.

3 This bespeaks the fact that in this deity as he is envisaged in Suriname there appears to have been a merging of the attributes given him in the beliefs of two distinct regions in Africa.

4 Cf. Story No. 148, Lɛba and Yɔrka. Lɛgba is the deification of accident in Dahomey, and is universally worshipped as the divine trickster. (Cf. Herskovits, M.J. & F. S, I). Lɛgba is worshipped in Haiti, (cf. Parsons, I, pp. 65-67). Lɛgba, under the Yoruban name of Ɛlɛgbara, is worshipped in Cuba, (Ortiz, I, p.. 66-67), and in Brazil. For a discussion of Lɛba in Suriname, see Encyc., p. 453, and Penard, I, p. 165.

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wɩnti consent to leave the family in peace and reside in a tree, they become Lɛba, and they manifest themselves in the form of tattered old women or, when invisible, are heard in the night as a wind. If a Lɛba chooses, it can allow evil to enter the yard it guards, just as it can, when it wishes, prevent evil from entering. It is offended by having soiled water thrown at it. At night, inhabitants of a yard go in a roundabout way in order to avoid the particular tree where the spirit is said to reside. The two beliefs merge in the concept of it as a spirit constantly on guard, the one idea being that Lɛba guards the cross-roads, and the other that he inhabits the yard and keeps evil from it.¹ Another of these African wɩnti is Akabrewa, and still another is called Adyąnti-wai̯, sometimes also known as Fire-wɩnti, because of the fact that, under possession, the devotees of this deity dance in the fire. This, however, would seem to bring this wɩnti logically into the category of the Thunder-gods.

A person acquires a wɩnti in one of three ways. Most frequently his wɩnti comes to him by inheritance; that, is to say, before dying, a man or a woman designates the individual to whom his or her wɩnti are to go just as he would designate the disposal of any other possessions. Usually, succession in the instance of wɩnti is from men to men and from women to women, so that a man first wills his wɩnti to his next eldest brother, and a woman to the sister who follows her. There are, however, exceptions to this manner of passing on the custody and worship of the familial wɩnti. If an individual, whose death is approaching, has many wɩnti, - we have heard the fact referred to with pride that an ancestor of one informant had as many as ninety-seven wɩnti - and the sister or brother in line to succeed is old or ill, such a relative is passed over for someone younger who is physically more capable to perform the rites necessary to worship the family spirits. This need for physical strength in the worship of the wɩnti is referred to constantly, since dancing is the governing element in this worship. Should that strength be lacking in any one individual, several members of the family are called upon, each to take over several of the wɩnti to be inherited. In those cases where the person who is about to die is the last of his generation, the wɩnti are passed to daughters, if it is a woman who is disposing of her inheritance, or to a sister's sons, if it is a man. If a woman has no daughters of her own, her wɩnti are inherited by her sisters' daughters, though, if she chooses, she may give any of her wɩnti to her sons. In the same way, a man, if he chooses, may pass down his wɩnti to his own sons, or even to his daughters. This occurs, in the main, only when there are no proper heirs, and is to be regarded as the exceptional procedure.

1 The Haitian Lemba who is Mait' 'Bitation, e.g. Master of the Habitation, suggests a parallel, - but in Haiti Legba and Lemba are recognized as distinct deities, the first belonging to the Rada group (Allada-Dahomey-Nago), and the second to the Petro group.

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Another way in which a wɩnti is acquired is for a spirit itself to choose the individual whom it wishes to possess. ‘Living with someone doesn't give a person wɩnti, unless the wɩnti likes him. Some people do get then wɩnti that way. Some get theirs at a wɩnti play. This happens when a wɩnti likes a person and decides to come to him.’ When this occurs, it is said that the wɩnti has met and loved the one whom it has chosen, and has decided to stay with him. Thus, when, in family inheritance, the wɩnti goes to someone not in the customary line of succession, such a choice on the part of the god is said to have taken place. However, such a choice by the wɩnti, as is indicated in our informant's statement, need not be within a given family. The spirit may decide to leave the family and go to a stranger, and we ourselves were earnestly warned against memorizing the words of wɩnti-songs and singing them, lest the spirits, flattered by this attention, decide to possess us, and make us their devotees. The choice of worshippers by the wɩnti themselves is said to be occurring with special frequency in more recent times, because the wɩnti are so often dissatisfied with the descendants of their traditional devotees as potential worshippers. This is the case, for example, when the persons in line for succession to a given wɩnti or group of wɩnti have become active members of one of the Christian churches.

The third way in which a person obtains a wɩnti is by wisi or kunu. A wɩnti which comes to an individual in the first two ways described is friendly to its devotee, and when worshipped properly helps him keep his health, earn a living, gain the good-will of his neighbors, and relish life. But one acquired in this third manner is an evil wɩnti, that seeks to bring its devotee illness, poverty, misfortune, and death. These evil spirits can only be appeased by doing their will, or by getting medicine which will send them away. Those brought to a person through wisi are sent at the behest of some enemy. Kunu, in town as in the bush, is the vengeance meted out by gods and ancestors for violation of traditional codes of moral behavior. In the city the concept of kunu is not as powerful a disciplinary force as it is in the bush, since the belief in its validity is not as strong in Paramaribo as in the interior. Yet even in the city the crime of incest, or that of killing a sacred snake without giving it ritual burial, and of killing by black magic, are held to be punishable by kunu. The form this takes is to punish not so much the perpetrator of the crime, as members of his family in the female line, from generation to generation, thus bringing his line to an end, or, at best, seeing his family reduced to poverty. This punishment by kunu, for the town Negroes, takes the form of the coming of a wɩnti as an enemy. If a snake is killed, a snake spirit comes; if incest is committed or evil magic employed, any type of wɩnti may come.

In this connection a further point relating to the concept of wɩnti must be made, and that is that a wɩnti may at the same time be

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both a good and an evil spirit. The fact is that the logic of the Negroes of Paramaribo holds that no spirit is either good or evil in the absolute sense. This concept of the absence of a spirit which is wholly good or completely evil enters here in a more subtle way. For while it generally follows that a spirit is friendly if it is worshipped, unfriendly if it is neglected, and evil if it has been sent to do evil, a spirit may be temperamentally as inconstant as human beings are inconstant. A whim may make one of them disposed to overlook an offense, and a whim may cause the same spirit to bring accident to a person who has not been guilty of serious neglect. There are wɩnti such as the Akantamasu who may be said to be friendly spirits only in the negative sense; that is, when they are not angered they abide in the deep bush, and allow the person possessed of them to live in peace. But all Akantamasu spirits that are inherited are thought to have originally come into the family as the result of the operation of a kunu.

b) the worship of the wɩnti

We have discussed the nature of the wɩnti, the types of wɩnti that are found, and the manner in which these spirits are acquired. In our consideration of the pattern of their worship, let us first view the phenomenon of the wɩnti as it is thought to manifest itself in the growing child who is a potential devotee of his family's gods. For example, we watched a two-year-old girl playing in the yard where her mother lives, and saw how any vessel filled with water attracted her attention, and how if it was large enough, she climbed into it and splashed about. It was soon said in the yard that when she grew up she would have a strong water Indian (watra Ɩ̨ŋgi) god, and what at first seemed to be mere pleasantry at the child's attraction for water, soon became apparent as a serious expression of belief. The mother of the child had Indian wɩnti, and though she was not yet obliged to worship it regularly, since her own mother, the child's grandmother, was still alive, the wɩnti had already manifested itself to her, and the opinion was held that if the grandmother lived long enough for the child to be of an age to dance when the grandmother died, the wɩnti would go to the child rather than to the mother of the child. Thereafter when choosing gifts for her little daughter, the mother bought red beads, or figured red prints, or a small red kerchief, since red is sacred to the water gods.

Again, bad tempered children are spoken of as having dormant Tiger spirits, and at times, especially if reference is being made to a boy, this is said with pride. Or if a child behaves badly and breaks things, the mother may say, in disgust, ‘Ah! She's going to have Bakru wɩnti!’ It must be made clear, however, that praise or blame is not associated only with the wɩnti. For the akra is called upon to take foremost responsibility for personality traits,

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and a good-tempered child is generally said merely to have a good 'kra, or a bad-tempered child to have a bad one. However, no matter what aptitudes for the worship of a given type of wɩnti a child shows either in general behavior, or in special ability to remember and sing the songs of that wɩnti, or to drum its rhythms, or to dance its dance-steps, we know of only one instance where any belief was held in the active presence of a wɩnti in a child under the age of puberty. This case was that of a boy about seven years old, who already was under the influence of a Lɛba spirit. Once a year his mother gives an offering at the cross-roads to the child's spirit, putting into a calabash a pipe filled with tobacco, some corn, akąnsa,¹ asogri,² and a torn blouse. If she neglects to do this, then with the coming of the new year the child rolls on the ground and screams, as he had done the first time, two years back, when the presence of his Lɛba spirit was discovered.

Let us give another instance of the manner in which it is discovered that a child, when of age, will be possessed by a god. An informant, whose grandmother was said to have come from Dɛmakuku,³ dreamed, when a young child, that someone came to tell her she would be taken to Africa. They then went together on foot through the bush for a long time, until they came to a ‘big’ house, where hung a ‘big’ bell. A very black, stout woman was sitting there. She wore a black pąŋgi, - tunic - and a colored cloth over her breasts. When our informant awoke and told her mother of her dream, her aunt, who was present, informed them that the informant's grandmother had Nɛŋgɛre-kɔ̨ndre Kromanti wɩnti, - African⁴ Kromanti wɩnti - which she would ‘catch’ when she grew up. While still a child, she had had yet another proof that this wɩnti would come to her, for once when she was ill she again dreamed that she was taken to Africa. When she arrived there, she saw several very black men stamping leaves on a mat. These leaves when sufficiently crushed were put in water, and with this water she was washed. When she awoke, she felt better, and soon grew well. This wɩnti, however, did not come to her immediately after these dreams, for, except in rare instances, it is not until after the age of puberty that the person destined to be possessed by a wɩnti actually begins his worship by dancing for it under possession. This

1 See above, p. 15, note 2.

2 A dish of baked corn-meal and sugar. Encyc., p. 59.

3 We were unable to localise this term in Dahomey, where, according to the Suriname people who spoke of Dɛmakaku, this village is supposed to be located. According to Encyc., p. 1, a reference to ‘Doemakoekoe Negers’ is made by F.W. Hostmann, in volume II, p. 250 of his work entitled ‘Over de beschaving van negers in Amerika door kolonisatie met Europeanen’, published in Amsterdam, 1850, while on p. 638 they are referred to as cannibals.

4 Rattray (V, p. 145), gives the following: ‘Abibirim, Africa, lit., among the blacks, the black man's country.’ This would explain the Suriname usage of Nɛŋgɛre-kɔ̨ndre - ‘Negro country’ - for ‘Africa’.

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woman has today six wɩnti in all; two snake gods, one male and one female, that came to her from a maternal aunt; this African wɩnti from her grandmother; Aisa, Loąŋgo, and Papa Ɩ̨ŋgi from her mother.

How does a person learn the manner of worship of his wɩnti? Those who have wɩnti, when questioned, say no formal instruction is given. When the wɩnti enters the individual, it is the spirit itself who sings the songs, speaks the tongues, and dances the dances. That this is an accepted belief is illustrated by the comments heard at wɩnti dances, where if a devotee dances unusually well, it is said ‘Her wɩnti dances splendidly.’ Again, when one of the wɩnti priestesses was induced to sing some sacred songs for our phonograph, the words never corresponded exactly to those we ourselves had taken down during the actual ceremonies which this woman had led. The explanation of this was that at the dance it was the wɩnti that sang, while before the phonograph, the priestess could at best only reproduce such fragments of the songs sung by the gods as remained in her memory. Often, when asking a man or a woman who was an acknowledged devotee of a wɩnti to sing the songs of that wɩnti, the answer was, ‘I know these songs only when the wɩnti comes, because it is the wɩnti who sings them.’ It must be recognised that in the refusal often lay the fear that if the songs were sung, possession would come on, as we have seen it come on when an informant, himself choosing the songs he wished to sing for the phonograph, sang those of his own wɩnti.¹ It is not strange the belief exists that in the performance of ritual songs, dances, and drumming, it is the wɩnti who perform. Given a situation where the children, from their earliest years, are held to be potentially capable of possession by a given spirit, and where they have, from time to time, witnessed the dances, heard the songs, and listened to the drum-rhythms for the wɩnti,² it follows that when the traditionally acceptable time comes for them to be possessed by these spirits, they dance and sing as a result of unconscious habituation; not as novices, but as though they were being directed by a force within them.

This belief in the performance by the wɩnti itself cannot be said to be universal, for we have the statement of one man, at least, that he went through formal training for his wɩnti. This man, who is now in his late twenties, told how when he was fourteen years old his mother informed him that he had Arawaki Ɩ̨ŋgi wɩnti (an

1 The fact must not be overlooked that there is also a disinclination to discuss these matters with a White person because of the fear that the spirit itself would resent such a discussion with a member of the race that had forbidden wɩnti dances.

2 Wɩnti songs are never introduced as work-songs, or sung for diversion. If they are sung while at work, or about the house, it is either that a ritual is being performed, or that the wɩnti is clamoring for worship.

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Arawak Indian spirit), saying she had learned of it in a dream. She began to teach him the dance-steps for this wɩnti, and not until after a year of intermittent instruction was he ready to dance. During this period she also taught him the make-up for the spirit that was to possess him, and the songs to be sung in worshipping it. One other instance which contravenes the general explanation given comes from our own observation. At a wɩnti dance, as the devotees of the Tapʾ-Kromanti spirit were dancing under possession, there was one young woman who danced with awkward hesitation. Observing this, the priestess in charge, herself possessed, came over to the young woman and, since speech is forbidden under possession, stepped lightly on the young woman's foot to call her attention to her presence; then, dancing at her side, showed her the steps and gestures.¹

Let us return to the case of the man who had Arawak Indian wɩnti, and see what, other than the steps of the dances and the words and melodies of the songs, it was incumbent upon him to know in order to worship his wɩnti. One factor which entered his life with the coming of the wɩnti was the observance of its trefu. In his particular case, this necessitated the abstinence from eating beef, or pork, or a certain kind of fish. ‘Na wɩnti dati a teki da kau̯ fō hɛm ʾasi. - That wɩnti has taken the cow for its medium.’ No food cooked by a menstruating woman could be eaten by him, for this is the deadliest taboo of all for the wɩnti. ‘Kwɛti, kwɛti! Nowąn wɩnti kąn nyąm futumąn nyąnyąm. Ɛf na wɩnti nyą' futumąn nąnyąm, a go pɔri. A no ką wroko mɔro. - No, no! No wɩnti can eat food prepared by a menstruating woman. If the wɩnti eats food prepared by a menstruating woman, it will spoil. It cannot work any more.’ Since red is the sacred color for the Arawak Indian wɩnti, the new devotee wore about his person something of that color to please his wɩnti. There was no other ritual of systematised worship, except that when he embarked on a journey, he made a sacrifice of some kind to the wɩnti, to ask of it support and protection.

Some of the foods that are forbidden by other wɩnti are as follows: persons who worship the Papa-wɩnti do not eat plantains or bananas. The Kromanti gods forbid smoking in their presence. ‘Kromanti no lɔbi smoku. Ɛfu suma smoki pɛ den dąnsi Kromanti, dą' yu habi tumusi trɔbi. - Kromanti does not like smoke. If someone smokes where they dance Kromanti, then you have much trouble.’ Those who worship Aisa do not eat the flesh of the peccary, nor of a species of deer described to us as having a spreading hoof. The Tigri devotees refrain from eating meat not freshly killed.

The wɩnti also prescribe the offerings that are pleasing to them. For example, all wɩnti demand that the rice given them as sacrifice be

1 The same technique of instruction is employed in Dahomey, where for each two or three novitiates an older initiated member of the cult dances beside them.

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kriɔri (creole, or native-grown) rice, and not the imported kind. They demand that the food be cooked with obia-fatu, - oil that comes from indigenous palm trees, and not imported oil. The Kromanti gods and the ancestors require rum, but to the Earth gods rum is hateful, and only sweet drinks such as molasses, or syrups, or a mixture of sugar and the bitter and sweet almond, called ɔrshadi are given, though beer is also acceptable to them. Each wɩnti, too, is said to come to a special part of the body of its devotee, and if angered by neglect, it is that portion of the body that the wɩnti attacks when it sets out to bring illness to a follower. Thus, the snake deities, the Akąntamasu wɩnti, and the Apuku wɩnti ‘nyąm bɛre’, - eat the belly; the Opɛte ‘eats’ the eyes; while the Kromanti wɩnti attack the head and bring fever to the heart. Each wɩnti, in addition, has a color that is sacred to it. White is the color of the Thunder gods, blue is the Kromanti color. Red is for the Ɩ̨ŋgi gods, brown is for the Akąntamasu, while Lɛba, dancing in tatters, wears black or dark brown.

Those who are possessed by the wɩnti are called, as we have seen, the 'asi of the wɩnti.¹ An 'asi waits for his wɩnti to manifest its desire to be worshipped before entering on its ritual. In the city this makes for difficulties, for since early slave days, the wɩnti dances have been forbidden. Consequently, in the city of Paramaribo there is not the freedom to dance for the wɩnti that exists in the bush, and that the working out of the system of wɩnti-worship demands. Among the Bush-Negroes, where this freedom is had, when a devotee feels his gadō asking for dancing, - this is manifested by restlessness and nervous tension, - he begins to wash for the spirit, daubs himself with white clay, and waits until the day of the week sacred to the god to dance. In Paramaribo this is impossible, and the restrictions have made, among other things, for the desuetude into which the custom of observing the day sacred to each individual wɩnti has fallen, at least insofar as general dancing is concerned. In setting the day for wɩnti cures, however, the wɩntimąn does wait for the day sacred to the wɩnti.

Under recent official rulings, dances have been decreed to be legal in the city four times a year. One of these legalized dances is held the first of July to celebrate the emancipation of the Negroes from slavery; another the first part of August, in celebration of the

1 'Asi is literally translated as ‘horse’ by Paramaribo Negroes who are asked its meaning, and they say that it denotes the one who ‘carries’ the wɩnti. Some persons add to this the meaning ‘servant’, i.e., of the wɩnti. However, the word is identical with the Fɔ̨-Ewe word for ‘wife’, - asi - which, in Togo and Dahomey, is employed in religious terminology to denote ‘wives of the gods’, i.e., worshippers. Thus, a follower of Mawu is called Mawusi, one of Lɛgba, Lɛgbasi. On the Gold Coast, the Ashanti employ the term oponko, ‘horse’ for worshipper, hence the telescoping of the Fɔ̨-Ewe word, and the Ashanti usage into the word 'asi, which is Negro-English for ‘horse’, accounts for the translation so often given.

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birthday of the Queen-Mother of Holland¹; the third, during which the most important wɩnti plays of the year take place, is held in celebration of the Queen's birthday, and on this occasion the festivities cover a period of about a week; the fourth celebrates the end of the year, and occurs the last week in December. There are those who dance for their wɩnti at each of these dances, - who, in fact, appear every night and dance as long as the dances go on. Since giving a dance for the wɩnti involves expense, many persons dance only at one of these dances, or at a series of dances given during one of these legally sanctioned intervals. There are other people, however, whose wɩnti are not appeased even though they dance for them at all of these four annual dance-cycles. Such wɩnti demand further dancing during the year. Those who can afford to indulge their wɩnti in their desire to be thus worshipped frequently go up the river and either dance on one of the plantations, where the prohibitions of the city do not exist, or better still, arrange for a dance in worship of their own wɩnti somewhere in the bush away from the city. This last, of course, is most costly of all, for it involves not only paying the drummers and buying all the sacrifices to the person's own wɩnti, but also furnishing the things needed to propitiate the Earth-Mother and other Earth gods as well as the god of the cross-roads, all of whom must have their sacrifices in order that the wɩnti be allowed by them to come and dance, and evil spirits be kept at bay. Finally, those who hold a dance must sacrifice to the ancestors so these may share the offerings and the dances for the ancestral wɩnti.

If the 'asi who is troubled by an insistent wɩnti cannot afford to provide his god with one of these costly special dances, and his wɩnti is amenable to persuasion, he gives an offering of food, and asks for its forbearance until such time as he can find the means to worship it properly. If it is not willing to wait, he arranges for a surreptitious wɩnti dance in his own yard or in that of the wɩntimąn, and provides an ordinary bass drum, or more probably a calabash upturned in a basin of water. A reasonable wɩnti accepts the exigencies of the situation which demand the use of a substitute for the sacred drum, and is appeased when its 'asi dances to it. It is also possible for a devotee who is troubled by his wɩnti to come and dance at a special dance that another provides for the curing of an illness brought on by wɩnti, for, except at those dances that are held away from the city, the wɩnti-cures but rarely take place at these four stated dancing-periods. As one informant put it, ‘After the Queen's birthday, I will have to see to the pacifying of my wɩnti. On the Queen's day each one looks after his own, the wɩntimąn, too.’

It is said that there are certain types of wɩnti, - the bad wɩnti, as they are called - which must be worshipped away from the city. It should be noted, however, that when an informant is asked

1 Recently deceased.

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to define the word ‘bad’ in describing a wɩnti, he tells that a ‘bad’ wɩnti is one that asks for many sacrifices and clamors for much dancing, so that its worship is especially costly. In this group are the Tigri wɩnti, who demand animal sacrifice; the Kąnkąntri wɩnti, whose 'asi climb trees and dance in their branches; Sofia Bada, the most dreaded of the Thunder gods; the Akąntamasu, who makes those whom it possesses foam at the mouth and become violent if angered; some of the Watra Ɩ̨ŋgi wɩnti, who insist that their 'asi enter the water, and are not satisfied when their devotees simulate the motions of creatures that inhabit the water; and the Kromanti wɩnti, who dance with cutlasses, and cause their 'asi to enter groves of thorny trees during the state of possession. It is also felt that the important African wɩnti are not pleased when their devotees appear in all the clothes that city dancing requires. Hence, the worshippers of these wɩnti, too, see to it that they dance away from Paramaribo.

The make-up and dress for dancing in the ‘small bush’ differs from that of the dances in the city. The dancers in Paramaribo, if they are men, wear the European clothes that are usual to men, and the women wear koto-yaki, or simple cotton dresses, though the latter are worn because of poverty rather than choice. Women wear kerchiefs on their heads, and men wear theirs tied about the waist or worn about the neck. A man who wears his kerchief about his waist shows that he is possessed by a female wɩnti, for this is the sign of female dress¹ as a substitute for the complete female attire which would characterise his costume if he were dancing away from the city. When dancing, shoes are thrown off and are picked up by the person who comes to look after the one dancing for his wɩnti. Make-up is at times seen at the dances in the city, though it is more customary not to find it there. When make-up is used, it takes the form of whitening the face with pɛmba doti, - sacred white clay - for Tap'-Kromanti; of marking blue or black stripes on the face, or two white spots high on the cheek bones, with blue spots near the eyes, for the Snake gods; of painting black and white spots on the face and white over the eyes for the Tiger; and of placing red on face and arms for the Indian wɩnti. The koto-yaki is at times discarded in the frenzy of possession, as are a man's trousers and shirt, and when this happens a woman dances clothed in a striped pąŋgi which, if her means permit, she buys especially for the dance, to honor her wɩnti, while a man dances in his loin cloth. This occurs but seldom at dances held in Paramaribo itself, because of a fear that discovery will lead to the revocation of the license to hold dances, and to the confiscation of the drums.

1 In the Suriname bush and in West Africa generally a large kerchief folded triangularly and knotted about the waist with the widest part at the back, is the sign that the wearer is a married woman. Therefore, in Dahomey, all vodųnsi, - ‘wives’ of the god - wear this, even though they be men.

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How do the dances held in the ‘small bush’ differ from those held in the city? The women wear pąŋgi (tunics), and cloths tied about the breasts, while the men wear loin cloths, unless they are possessed by female wɩnti, when they dress as do the women. Those who dance for Tap'-Kromanti have their faces, throats, and arms whitened with sacred clay. The dancers for Aladi, the Thunder god, whiten their faces and legs, wear a white cloth, and dance with a sąŋgrafu¹ stick, looking up toward the sky as they dance. For the Ɩ̨ŋgi dancers, the face and sometimes the entire upper portion of the unclothed body is painted with red kuswɛ, a pigment obtained from the fruit of a tree of that name.² Red kerchiefs are worn by these dancers or a red band is placed about the head, while pins are thrust through the lips. A band, often of human hair, is worn below the knee, or a red band of cloth is used in its place, while others tie strips of red cloth on the upper arm or on the wrists. Those who dance for the snake-gods spot their faces and arms with pɛmba, - white sacred clay - and black, or blue pigment³ or they paint white spots on the cheek-bones, and blue circles about the eyes. For the Tiger⁴ dances, the make-up consists of black and white markings on the face, or on the face and on the exposed portions of the body as well.

The essential differences between the dances held away from the city and those which take place in Paramaribo lie not so much in the manner of dress or make-up as in the type of dancing, in the offerings to the wɩnti, and in the activities of those in a state of possession who are not dancing. One dance described was said to have continued for a period of eight days, and many of those who came to dance the first day remained for the entire time, dancing every day. Those who danced were, as always, accompanied by friends or relatives who took them in charge while they were under possession. The participants brought food for the duration of their stay, and cooking utensils. The dance was held in a large clearing, roofed over for the occasion with pina, - palm-leaf thatch. On benches and boxes brought by the dancers and their friends sat dancers and onlookers. About the dancing-space were many small huts, some of them no larger than kennels. To one side was the music; three drums, the kwakwa bench, on which the basic rhythm of the dance was beaten, people with rattles, and a man who held the two pieces of iron which must be beaten for all Kromanti dances. The priestess had already, during the first afternoon,

1 Costus cylindricus Jacq. Fam. Zingiberaceae (Encyc., p. 230).

2 Bixa orellana L. Fam. Bixaceae (Encyc., p. 140).

3 Blue and black have a single designation in most of the languages of the West Coast of Africa.

4 Tigri (Tiger) is the European word that, in New World Negro dialects and in pidgin-English and pidgin-French in West Africa, is used for the largest feline of the respective regions; in West Africa the leopard is so termed, in Suriname, the jaguar.

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gone through the necessary ceremonies to propitiate the gods who were to come, and now, as the dancers sat on their boxes or stood leaning against the posts of the improvised shelter, she went about the space cleared for dancing, pouring water out of a calabash she held in her hand. This was ‘to bring the wɩnti’. After the drums had been playing for a few minutes and the singing had got under way, people began to sway in their places as they clapped their hands in time to the rhythms of the drums. ‘When the wɩnti get good, they run in the middle.’ This was done individually by those who became possessed, and possession came only to those who had the wɩnti that was being called by the drums and the songs. Those who had other wɩnti sat waiting for their own gods to be called, for there is no rigid precedence in the order of calling the wɩnti. However, since it was the first day of the ceremony, the opening dances were for the ancestors, the Earth gods, and the god of the cross-roads. Old and young danced; among the youngest were two women about sixteen years old. One woman, big with child, supported her abdomen by tying a red kerchief about herself, and danced with the rest. ‘She dance later for the Dagowe, rolling on the ground,’ said our informant, and added, ‘and woman like she has the baby better than me sitting in one place.’

Eight days before this ceremony, those who were planning to dance Tigri (the jaguar), bought animals to sacrifice to the wɩnti. These animals, which could have been dogs, fowls, or goats, were sent on ahead to the place where the dance was to be held, and this was done in order to kasiri, or purify, them. No special food was given them; the animals were simply kept away from surroundings which might have polluted them. At the dance, when the Tigri spirit was called, those to whom possession came danced for it. As soon as the wɩnti ‘danced strong’, the animals were led into the clearing among the possessed dancers. Those who brought goats ‘rode the goats’, and all the animals were stalked from behind in the manner in which the feline whose spirit was being worshipped attacks his prey. Since jaguars are said to drink the blood of their prey, those possessed drank the blood of the sacrifices, and when the devotees ate the animals, which they tore open, they ate skin and hair, or feathers, if the animals attacked were chickens. The important parts of the sacrificial animals are the brain, the heart, the liver and the genitals, and these were eaten first. What was left by the ‘Tigers’ was thrown to one side, and this was later eaten by those possessed by Opɛte (vulture) wɩnti.

Another generalised description of this kind of ceremony may be paraphrased as follows: An 'asi who is preparing to dance for his wɩnti ‘washes’ for the dance with the contents of a basin in which there is either ɔrshadi, rum, or beer, abɔngra seeds, and red, blue or white cotton. He also drinks ɔrshadi, rum, or beer, according to his wɩnti's preference, and eats pɛmba doti. Let us say the drums

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begin to call Tigri wɩnti, and Tigri songs are sung. Those who have Tigri wɩnti are soon in the center of the space, one joining the other as possession comes on. Those who are not dancing sing the songs, if they know them. There is at least one dog and one fowl for those who are possessed, and any stray dog that appears is seized and added to these animals, though many provide their own dogs or fowls. A man or a woman seizes the dog or the fowl, - the dog is held by the hind legs, head down - and tears the animal open. All others come forward to drink the blood. In five minutes they have torn it ‘like a kerchief’. The flesh and bones are thrown to one side, and the Opɛte wɩnti later come and eat this. This dance may take place during the day or the night, and if the dancers continue two or three days or nights, this ceremony recurs as often as the Tigri play¹ is on; three Tigri intervals are the usual number for a long dance. The Dagowe wɩnti also is given an animal sacrifice, but for Dagowe only the dog is used, and when the sacrifice is made, those under possession eat the flesh. When the music begins to play Watra Ɩ̨ŋgi, many among the dancers who are possessed run to the river and disappear for a half-hour or more. The drums must not stop playing until they come back, for if they were to stop, those in the water would drown. The devotees of the Watra Ɩ̨ŋgi wɩnti who do not go to the river, dance imitating the Indians. The dancers for Opɛte wɩnti ‘move their arms so fast you might think they would break, but it doesn't hurt them.’ Under possession, the Opɛte go forth to find dead creatures or tainted meat, and eat these. Those who are possessed by the Kromanti spirits dance in fire under the strength of their possession, for nothing can cut, or wound, or lacerate a ‘let', let' Kromanti wɩnti, - a true Kromanti spirit’. The dogs in the kennels are male for one wɩnti and female for another. The rest of the low houses are used all during the dance; couples drift in and out all the time, and several at a time, but ‘they don't want you to see what they do with the animals.’²

The point has been made that the essential mode of worship of the wɩnti is dancing for it, and that the need to dance for the wɩnti manifests itself in possession. It will make for clarity in understanding the phenomenon of possession as it exists in Paramaribo, and the attitudes toward it, if we cite specific instances we ourselves witnessed.

One of the possessions we saw was that of a woman in her early twenties, who was on her way to market.³ She was alone, and as

1 In Nigeria, as in Suriname, the word ‘play’ is usually employed for ‘dance’ or ‘ceremony’. Cf. Talbot, (II), vol. ii and iii, passim.

2 Since no informant would admit having been inside one of these houses, it was not possible for us to determine what occurs there.

3 Whether it is chance that the instances we cite occurred a short time before the sanctioned period of dancing in Paramaribo, we cannot say, for our stay in the colony coincided with this time.

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she walked, her body shook and trembled, and the muscles of her face twitched. She talked as she went on, greeting in the name of her wɩnti those who passed her, announcing her wɩnti's ‘strong’ names, and her own ‘strong’ name. She was possessed by the Papa god. Before she reached the market, her trembling became more violent, and suddenly she fell to the ground and began crawling and rolling face downward. She emitted falsetto sounds, which turned into shrieks when some women tried to bring her to her feet. A crowd soon gathered, and an old woman who herself had a Papa god came from the market with something for her to drink. After several minutes, in which all those who surrounded the woman showed anxiety lest the police come, she was lifted into a passing automobile and taken home. Those, however, who did not know the woman sufficiently well to be concerned whether the police came or not, joked about the incident, for though according to religious belief the wɩnti alone was accountable for this performance, the actual situation presented an amusing scene in the marketplace which was well relished.

This latter attitude toward the phenomenon of possession we have seen expressed during the tensest moments of a dance, and illustrates a fundamental point of view toward worship. The sense of immediacy which fequent possession by the wɩnti engenders, though it gives an experience of the most valid kind to those who go through it, brings with it neither sanctimoniousness nor solemnity. This is evidenced also in the directness of the prayers that are sung or spoken, in the reasoning with the wɩnti whose wants are too exacting, in the tradition of calling upon the wɩnti's sense of fair play in difficult times to induce it to forego demands it has made for dancing or sacrifices. The wɩnti, indeed, partake of much of the character of human beings, and while they are respected and feared, little of awe enters into their worship, except in times of stress, when the spirits show themselves implacable.¹

Another case of possession occurred on the street near our hotel. The possessed woman was brought into the courtyard, threw herself on the ground, and lay moaning and foaming at the mouth. In this instance, possession was by the Akąntamasu, god of the ant hill. However, the woman had a strong alcoholic breath, and this puzzled the bystanders for a moment, for they could not decide whether intoxication or possession was the cause of the attack. But the white foam at the mouth was for them an unmistakable sign that it was the latter, and the alcoholic breath was at once attributed to the fact that under the malign influence of this particular god the possessed woman had been drinking. This time there was very little levity on the part of the bystanders, for the Akąntamasu wɩnti is

1 We have found the same attitude toward the gods among Negroes in the Suriname bush, in the West Indies, and in West Africa itself.

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dreaded by those who have it, and when it manifests itself, calls forth a feeling of pity. A woman who herself had many wɩnti brought water for the possessed one, and soothed her with gentle speech, bathing her hair and face. Recovery from this possession was slow; the woman whose god had seized her lay in the courtyard for more than an hour before she regained consciousness. Finally, however, she was brought to her feet, and with the aid of several of the women who had remained with her, was taken home. She looked physically exhausted, but it was explained that ‘A sɑ kɩsi hɛm srɛfi te a kaba dąnsi fō 'a wɩnti. - She will recover after dancing for her wɩnti.’

The third instance of possession not brought on during ritual dancing occurred in our room, while we were working on tales and songs with an informant. Two of the songs which he had given as kɔt' sɩŋgi¹ were Kromanti songs, and as he sang them on the phonograph, he became extremely nervous. He asked for a cigar, and chewed it as he went on to tell two ghost stories. Then he got up and began pacing the floor, until he suddenly turned and asked for a Bush-Negro drum, which he knew we had collected in the interior, saying he wanted to sing into the phonograph with a drum accompaniment. As soon as he had finished these songs, which he sang loudly, the drum was taken from him with the explanation that it was too late to record any more songs, for he was then fully possessed, and the situation demanded that he be calmed.² The drum obviously fascinated him, for he stood looking at it fixedly, and then he walked toward it. He himself, however, did not wish to allow his possession to get out of bounds, and he stood beside it struggling for self-control against the new African kɔmfo that troubled him. This kɔmfo, when once calmed and made at home by his akra, - it was at the time being opposed by his soul in taking possession of the informant, because this kɔmfo would become his basi-wɩnti, his governing wɩnti, - would make of him an important priest. The time had not yet come to see to its calming, however. The following day, when we discussed this possession with him, he explained that it is possible to check the coming on of possession by taking measures to allay the restlessness of the troubling wɩnti with a promise of a future dance. Within a day we had an opportunity of verifying this, for both he and his aunt, who had told us in advance that they would not dance at a certain ceremony to which they escorted us, actually did not dance.³

1 These songs are used to ‘cut’ Anansi stories. See pp. 142-144.

2 As a matter of fact, by this time a crowd had collected in the street in front of the hotel, and the talk ran that White people were dancing for their wɩnti. Our gratitude goes once more to Miss Gans for her forbearance in this, as in other situations incidental to ethnological inquiry.

3 This is practised in Haiti as well, where a worshipper will marré his mâit' tête, i.e. bind his controling deity, before going to a dance at which he does not wish to be possessed.

[p. 82]

The woman remained seated beside us, though when her own wɩnti were called, she did not participate in the singing. The man, hearing his wɩnti called, rose and paced back and forth on the road which flanked the yard where the dance was held, and the people who watched him go shook their heads and laughed. They knew the symtoms of possession, and were scornful of his attempt to frustrate his wɩnti.

When possession occurs without the necessary preparation for dancing, it is because the wɩnti is forcing its wishes to become known. In other words, it is a sign that the wɩnti has been angered because of improper worship, and since what the wɩnti exacts is, above all, dancing for it, - the offerings which are a part of the necessary preparation for the wɩnti-dance accompany such dancing as a matter of course - sudden possession comes when its 'asi has either denied the wɩnti expression through dancing, or has not given it full release.

c) wɩnti maladies and wɩnti cures

There are other ways, often more drastic than through possession, that a wɩnti makes known its displeasure. It may make its 'asi so ill-tempered that he will tear his own clothes to shreds and break whatever is in his house. It may even cause its 'asi to steal, in order to obtain money necessary to provide the proper offerings and the necessities utilised when preparing for a dance. It will, above all, bring illness to the individual himself and to members of his family. The sequence of any of these punishments is not fixed, for any of them may occur in a more or less aggravated form as a first sign of displeasure, this depending largely upon the powers attributed to the wɩnti itself. When such misfortunes occur, it is usual for the more immediate members of the family to call together the more distant relations to discuss what should be done. At such times, contributions are made to enable the family to satisfy the familial wɩnti. An attempt may be made to have a wɩntimąn call the wɩnti to reason with the spirit on behalf of the family, and to offer it some small sacrifices to appease it temporarily. If the wɩnti refuses to be pacified on those terms, a wɩnti-play is given in order to cure the person who is being troubled. This ritual is called sɛti wɩnti, - pacifying the wɩnti.

Before discussing wɩnti curing, let us return to the informant who was being claimed by an African kɔmfo as its 'asi for an example of how the need for such a cure arises. This wɩnti came from Demakuku, in Africa,¹ and is traced by our informant through five generations of his ancestry. ‘It is not a little one,’ he said of it proudly, though at the time he knew but little about it, - only, in

1 See p. 71, note 3.

[p. t.o. 82]

Plate XIV. Men from Bush and Town.

[p. t.o. 83]

Plate XV.

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fact, that it did not drink rum, but wished sweet liquors, and that it troubled him when he worked for other people, especially when those others were men darker than himself. One of the things he does under possession, and which he did when he was possessed in our hotel room, is to write the language of his wɩnti. We reproduce a sample written while in a state of possession.¹ Since leaving Suriname, we have had several letters from him which contained this writing, included, he explained, as a greeting from his wɩnti to us. Objectively considered, the symbols he employs are consistent, and we have seen him write them with ease. He has not yet solved for himself the meaning of this writing, for he still questions us about the peoples in Africa who know how to write, though he assures us that once the wɩnti is pacified, it will make known to him the meaning of the symbols, and their origin.

This man's difficulties in having his wɩnti pacified are many. Most important of all is that of getting the money necessary to engage a wɩntimąn to do this pacifying, and to provide for the essentials of such a ceremony. This should cost about fifty guilders, a sum still beyond his reach. In addition, in his present condition he has a grave distrust of the lukumąn, feeling that once they discover how powerful a wɩnti it is, they may give him medicine to ‘spoil’ it, and thus eliminate a powerful rival. Moreover, since this wɩnti, powerful as it is, would become the basi wɩnti, the master of all the wɩnti whose devotee he is, his akra sees in it a challenge to its own power over the man, for a powerful wɩnti such as this would seek to subordinate the will of the akra to its own will, and therefore, the akra is reluctant to yield it the right to take possession of the man.

What constitutes a wɩnti cure? All curing, whether of possession such as we have described, or of illness, includes in its regime the need of bathing the body. This bathing is said to ‘cool’ the body, and the phrase ‘to cool’ means ‘to set at peace’. Each individual wɩnti has herbs which are especially sacred to it. These are put in water, and to this is added white chalk, washing blue (to represent indigo), African pepper and other ingredients according to the wɩnti that is to be ‘washed for’. Among these sacred herbs are the sąŋgrafu, mąnu-sneki wiwiri, umą-sneki wiwiri, blaka-umą wiwiri,² kɔrsu wiwiri, anei̯si wiwiri, abɔ̨ngra seeds, and sibi wiwiri. The person to be washed is stripped, and the washing is done either with a black or a white cock, used as a sponge, or some bread is employed for the same purpose. ‘Bread is more better, because bread come from the skin of God.’ If a cock is used, it is killed after the ceremony, and, as is the case when divining is done at a wɩnti-dance, if its testicles are white the omen is held favorable and the person under treatment will be cured, but if black, the person will

1 Plate XV.

2 Cordia Graveolens H.B.K. Fam. Borraginaceae. (Encyc., p. 229).

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not recover. After this washing, and before a cure can he effected, the wɩnti must be worshipped with dancing. While it is best that dancing be done by the person possessed by the wɩnti, it is not unusual, especially where the patient is too old, or too ill, or has become so Europeanised that he is not familiar with the proper dance-steps, to find someone else to dance for him. Most frequently this other is the wɩntimąn, who, as priest of the wɩnti, may be either a man or a woman.

Not all the wɩnti can be dealt with so simply. We were told the story of a woman who is unable to dance for her wɩnti because her husband is a pastor of one of the Christian churches. The wife's wɩnti so dislikes the husband that it harasses him and even threatens to kill him. This woman is described as handsome, and as a good wife when her wɩnti does not trouble her, but she becomes violent when her wɩnti comes, and she was once known to have struck her husband so hard a blow on the head while under the influence of the wɩnti that he was in the hospital for some weeks. Sometimes her wɩnti, in anger, puts the children out on the road in the rain, and the husband seldom dares enter his house when he finds his wife possessed by her wɩnti. When the wɩnti leaves her, she has no memory of having done any of these things. And the belief of most Negroes in Paramaribo is that if those, who like this woman give their wɩnti no outlet in dancing, persist in their course, they will go insane. This, in fact, is the Paramaribo Negro's explanation of insanity, as given us by more than one informant. And though most often this is deplored, we have heard the fact mentioned with astonishment mingled with admiration that there are some who take up the religion of the Europeans so fervently that, in spite of their knowledge that insanity is in store for them, they still refuse to dance for the wɩnti. This power of the wɩnti to punish those who refuse to worship it is never questioned, and the conviction gives rise to a number of folkloristic beliefs.

A favorite theme of this folkloristic type has to do with the case of a policeman who was sent by the authorities to stop a wɩnti-dance. It is told that upon hearing the drums play, his own wɩnti possessed him. Stripping off his clothes, he joined the circle of dancers, and danced not only all that night, but remained at the wɩnti-play until its end five days later. Another tale concerns a woman in the colony, who, to all appearances, is white. She came to a dance to satisfy her wɩnti, and when the wɩnti possessed her, she turned black, and remained black until her wɩnti was appeased. Then, slowly, the deep pigmentation faded out and she was once more white. Still another story concerns a White woman whom a White man brought to see a wɩnti-dance. When the drums played for the Snake gods, the wɩnti seized her. She began to tremble and to twitch like the others who were possessed, and pulling out the hat-pins from her hat, flung them and the hat into the bush, and joined

[p. 85]

the dancers, rolling on the ground as did the devotees of the snake. ‘It was the wɩnti dancing. That's why she knew how.’ So strong is this belief, that White people who are interested in the cult of the wɩnti are themselves said to be possessed of a spirit of which they may know nothing. In their own homes, belief holds, White people give wɩnti-dances, but so disguised that only the expert eyes of the servants, who know what wɩnti is, recognise them as such. For instance, instead of wɩnti drums, snare-drums are used, and the violin and such other instruments as complete the White man's orchestra are substituted for rattle and gong. But after the dancing, which is but ordinary party-dancing of the White people, is in full swing, it becomes wɩnti-dancing, and the special evidence in one such case cited was that some of the women present wore red petticoats!¹

In all situations which arise out of the unfriendliness of a wɩnti toward his 'asi and the family of the 'asi, it is important to deal with the wɩnti amicably. Those who, let us say, choose insanity for themselves rather than ‘serve the Devil’ are thought to be selfish, for, in accepting insanity for themselves, they are by no means ridding the family of the wɩnti which, deserted, becomes an enemy, and will seek to enter the body of one member after another.

Those about to die, therefore, who wish to prevent the harassing of their descendants by unfriendly wɩnti, call upon their wɩnti to name the price at which they will withdraw from the family and leave it in peace. Mothers, especially, do this to save such of their children for whom belief in wɩnti has lost its old validity. These negotiations with the wɩnti are called meki wą sweri, - ‘swearing an oath’ - or as an informant whose English was excellent, said, ‘Making a contract with the wɩnti.’ Through the wɩntimąn, the wɩnti is asked to name its own conditions upon which it will consent to release the family. A woman, then, let us say, who wishes a wɩnti to leave the family at her death, and the wɩntimąn who is to question the wɩnti are seated on benches. The wɩntimąn, with rattle and to the accompaniment of drums, brings the wɩnti into that part of the body of the woman where the wɩnti is localised. The wɩntimąn addresses the wɩnti: ‘Your 'asi is getting old. She has no one to whom to leave you. She wishes to pay you to leave her children in peace. I am here to find out what payment you ask.’ The answer may be that the wɩnti demands a dinner, or a big feast, or liquor, - some wɩnti are less exacting than others. The wɩnti is also asked where it wishes to be sent. Usually, the place it elects

1 This tendency on the part of wɩnti-worshippers to infer their own kind of belief from behavior that has nothing to do with the wɩnti is illustrated by the question asked us by one informant who wanted to know what kind of wɩnti the Negroes of the United States worship. On being told that they are Christians, he exclaimed, ‘But I saw a wɩnti dancing in your country!’ Further questioning brought out the fact that, at the cinema, he had seen the Charleston danced.

[p. 86]

to enter is a tree, and the tree preferred is the kąnkąntri. A person who is thoughtful of his neighbors does not leave his wɩnti in a tree in the city, but sends it to a kąnkąntri on the outskirts of the city.

When the wɩnti called Adyąnti-wai̯ was called to name the conditions upon which it would release a woman, it expressed the wish to leave the colony and to go back to Africa. ‘They made a little corial, and they put in a bottle of beer, some switi sopi (liqueurs), some ɔrshadi, rice, Nɛ̨ŋgɛre kɔndre pɛpre, some white, blue, and red cotton, about an ell of each, and thirty-two cents (Dutch). At night, the little corial was taken in a boat to the harbor.¹ We waited for the falling tide, and the wɩntimąn said, “We made an oath that you would leave the body of your 'asi Afi now. She is getting old. Her children do not care to serve you. We are giving you the payment you asked for. It is here in the corial. You are in the corial. We beg you to go back to your own country. We beg you to leave the family of this 'asi in peace.” Then they put the corial in the water, and it floated out to sea in the direction of Africa.’

No wɩnti that comes to a family as a kunu can, however, be disposed of in this manner.

1 This is at the mouth of the Suriname river, some miles away from Paramaribo.

d) a wɩnti-dance

Our description of wɩnti, thus far, has been based largely on accounts given us in discussions of wɩnti. In this section we shall describe one of the wɩnti-dances we ourselves witnessed. For this purpose we have chosen a dance where, returning the day after its occurence, we had the opportunity to discuss the ceremonies with the priestess in charge, and to record many of the songs which had been sung in the course of the dance.

This dance was held in one of the larger Paramaribo yards, situated at a cross-roads, one of the cabins of which was occupied by the wɩntimąn - in this case a woman. The yard had been carefully swept, and benches lined the space reserved for the dancers. Food had already been given to the Grɔ̨-Mama of the yard. Food had also been offered at the cross-roads for Lɛba, for the Kromanti gods, and for other Earth spirits who were coming from a distance. At the river, food had been offered for the Watra Ɩ̨ŋgi, the river gods. The dance, which had been scheduled for four in the afternoon, was slow in getting under way, and did not actually begin until six o'clock. When we arrived at four o'clock, the priestesses were washing for the wɩnti, and dressing in their ceremonial clothes. The drums were not as yet in evidence. After a time, three women came out of one of the small houses that lined the yard; each held a

[p. 87]

calabash in her hand, and made the tour of the yard, sprinkling some of its contents at the places sacred to the spirits of the yard, and in the four directions of the compass. The first of these calabashes held rum, the second was filled with beer, and the third had ‘sweet things’, - molasses, this last especially being for the deities of the Earth.

The drums were brought out, one by one, and placed in position at one end of the rectangular dance-clearing, nearest to the cabin of the priestess. There were five drums used, which we illustrate.¹ The largest of these drums was the agida,² played both with the hand and with a stick. The next in size, longer but not nearly as large in girth, was the mąn drɔ̨m, which was also played with a stick, since its drum-head is not large enough to permit the player to employ his hands. A third drum was the pɔdyo, and the other two apinti,³ one small one which, with carved foot, was decorated with the designs to be seen in white on its surface. This is, ritually, the most important drum of the battery, and is played with the hands only. Such was the vigor with which the players, themselves possessed as the ceremony continued, drummed on it, that the day following the dance the finger-tips of the principal drummer were quite raw. During the time he was playing, however, he gave no evidence that the state of his hands was giving him any discomfort, although the next day he was in evident pain. In addition to these drums, a hardwood bench was brought out. When beaten with two sticks, this makes the percussion instrument called the kwakwa, which, with the agida drum, is utilised in keeping the basic rhythm of the dances. If no hardwood bench is available, it is sufficient to have a small empty packing box. The sound is sharp, and pierces through the notes made by the drums. Rattles, - two of them, in this wɩnti-dance, - were brought out,⁴ and two pieces of iron, one struck against the other, called isri nąŋga isri, - iron

1 Plate XVI. For a discussion of Suriname drums, see Encyc., art. ‘Muziek-Instrumenten en Muziek,’ pp. 494-499.

2 While an exact West African equivalent in terminology for this drum has not been found, it is perhaps worth mentioning that the crooked drumsticks used to beat the great drums in Dahomey are called agida. The details of the drum, as seen in our illustration, are the same as Dahomean, Haitian and Ashanti drums.

3 The Ashanti talking-drums, which are the same in general construction and the manner in which the drum-head is attached to the drums as the Suriname apinti drums, are called mprintin. A Yoruba drum, described by Talbot (II, iii, p. 814) as a ‘short, single-skin drum, beaten between the knees, and especially used at feasts, etc.,’ is called apinti.

4 The rattle is of great importance. In the Suriname Bush, a rattle accompanying songs can bring on possession even if the drums are not playing, while in Dahomey, a cult-center could not carry on the rituals essential to worship were it without a rattle. We have never seen any African ceremony, in Guiana, the West Indies, or West Africa, where rattles were not indispensable.

[p. 88]

with iron.¹ The drums at these dances are played by men;² but it seems indifferent whether a man or a woman strikes the kwakwa, and several times in the dance we are describing, when the player failed to play the proper rhythm, the priestess took the sticks away from him and herself beat out the time which set the note for the drums to follow, in the correct invocation to the god. The rattles were played only by women.³ The music was completed by hand-clapping and singing. The singing was done, in the main, by a chorus of women who, as the followers of the officiating priestess, were familiar with the songs. Both men and women joined in clapping their hands in time to the rhythms of song and drums, and when some favorite melody was introduced by the priestess, the volume of sound swelled.

This was the first wɩnti-play of the Queen's birthday cycle, and drew many of the older people because the drummers for the occassion were Brɔsi nɛŋgɛre, members of a group identified in the mind of the townspeople as stemming directly from Africa.⁴ Some of those who acted as drummers were boatmen who had come to town from their home in the coastal ‘small bush’ country to take part in the boat-races that mark the festivities of the occasion. Among them was an old man who was a renowned wɩntimąn of that region. In this dance he did not become possessed, but he directed the playing of the drums, himself playing the agida or the apinti.

The drums in place, people slowly gathered, but there was no hurry to begin the ceremonies. Young boys took up one drum or another to try their skill with a tentative rhythm; sometimes two or three of these children played together, occasionally corrected by an older man, himself a drummer. From time to time a man who was to play a drum tested it, tightening the cords that held the drum-head, until he was satisfied that its tone was properly pitched. As the drums were tried, more people were attracted by the sound, until, as the rapid dusk deepened, there were enough persons present to occupy all the wooden boxes and benches that surrounded the cleared dancing-space, and behind them was a thin fringe of persons who were standing. A few lanterns were brought out, the

1 These represent the gong, an African musical instrument also important ceremonially, the distribution of which is wide over the continent.

2 This is also the rule in West Africa, though neither in Paramaribo nor Africa was its observance as strict as among the Bush-Negroes, where derision greets the very idea of a woman playing a drum.

3 We have never, in the ceremonies of the town Negroes, seen men play rattles, although among the Bush-Negroes, in Haiti, and in West Africa, they are played by both men and women.

4 This appellation, ‘Brɔsi Negroes’, is significant in the light of the following quotation concerning the people of the Warri district of Nigeria: ‘The slaves... are principally composed of the natives... who are called at Bonny the Brass-country negroes, from the circumstances of the... large brass pans, taken from Europe to Bonny, being requisite for this particular trade.’ (Talbot, II, i. p. 327).

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drummers seated themselves, gave their drums a final adjustment, and swung into the rhythm of the first song.

The priestess went about the cleared space greeting those present. She knew who would dance and who would not. Those who had come belonged to the particular group of wɩnti worshippers of which she was the leader, though any stranger whose wɩnti came to him could, without exciting any astonishment, enter the cleared dancing-space, and dance for it. The group gathered was, nevertheless, scrutinised for adherents of a rival wɩntimąn. This was done casually, and so much as a matter of course that the actual incident was in the nature of welcoming friends who were present, and making certain that some of the younger devotees, who were under the priestess' special tutelage, had already arrived. It is true, nevertheless, that wɩnti worshippers have their special wɩnti groups with whom they share this worship. This seems to go down in families, and may possibly reflect some early recognition of African affiliations. Whether this is altogether borne out or not, a native of Paramaribo hesitates to go to a wɩnti-dance given by a group with which he is not affiliated, for only those of our informants who belonged to families associated with the group giving the dance we are describing were to be seen here. When we suggested to others that we might see them at this dance, they either laughed and said they would come and watch, or said frankly that they had their own groups, and would take us to their own dances. One elderly woman, indeed, went so far as to exclaim, ‘What would I be doing at that wɩntimąn's dance?’

Those who were seated on the benches and boxes, - many of the latter were brought by the people who came - were the wɩnti-worshippers and their friends or relatives, and all of them were expected to participate in the singing. Some of those who came brought bottles of beer or of rum, but notwithstanding this, possession was not superinduced by the drinking of strong liquor. From time to time, a drink of rum was given the drummers, but those who were possessed did not indulge, and there was no instance of anything approaching intoxication on the part of anyone at the dance. Indeed, it is safe to say that as much beer and liquor was poured on the ground in the form of offerings to the gods as was consumed by those hi attendance at the ceremony.

The first spirit called was that of the Earth Mother. This was termed bɛgi Grɔ̨-Mama, - prayer to the Earth Mother - also sometimes called presi doti, - praise for the earth. Most of the songs sung at this ceremony were later recorded; of these we give a few to illustrate the sequence, and all which we were not able to record. The priestess sang:

[p. t.o. 90]

Plate XVI. The wɩnti drums.

[p. 90]

 

Mama-o, wi bɛgi-o,

 

Wi kari yu nɛm.

 

Aisa, Awąnaisa,

 

Wi no sab' bɛgi-o,

 

Wi piki-o

 

Wi kari yu nɛm.

 

Aisa, Awąnaisa,

 

Ma Loko,

 

Wi kari yu nɛm.

 

 

 

Mother-o, we pray you-o,

 

We call your name.

 

Aisa, Awąnaisa,

 

We know not how to pray-o,

 

We speak to you-o

 

We call your name.

 

Aisa, Awąnaisa,

 

Mother Loko,

 

We call your name.

This was followed by:

Agida-o,
Ma Loko,
Agida-e.

Agida-o,

Mother Loko,

Agida-e.

And:

Aisa bɔmbo Loko
Na mi sisa,
Bɔmbo Loko
Bɔmbo Mande.

Aisa mates with Loko

My sister,

Mates with Loko

Mates with Mande.¹

Then was sung:

Loko na bom,
Awąnaisa na doti,
O, Loko na bom,
Awąnaisa na doti-o.

Loko in the tree,

Awąnaisa in the earth.

O, Loko in the tree,

Awąnaisa in the earth-o.

1 Not translatable.

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As the priestess began the first of these songs, she walked about the enclosure, rattle in hand, keeping time to the music. Her assistant followed her with a calabash filled with water, sprinkling water in front of all those seated, so that the wɩnti might come to them. But the wɩnti were slow in coming. Again and again she repeated this song, singing the leader's part, being echoed by the chorus. Single figures came out and danced, each with a kerchief in hand,¹ waving it back and forth in time to the swaying of the body. They were dancing Bąnya, which, though itself the name of a special dance for the Earth, here was employed to designate the various types of dancing that were going on in the center of the cleared space to do homage to the Earth and the Ancestors, and that were preliminary to the more individual dances for the separate wɩnti. In this category were dances known as Kriɔro drɔ̨', ‘Creole drum’,² Aisa, and Papa Ɩ̨ŋgi, which latter is the wɩnti resulting from the mating of the Papa snake and the Earth Ɩ̨ŋgi. The women danced in single file, the Aisa dancers waving their kerchiefs, and when the Papa Ɩ̨ŋgi dance came, the women danced in a circle imitating Indians.

Next came the Anąnsi-tɔri dances. These are dances for the ancestors, and the name is a euphemism derived from the fact that Anansi stories are told at wakes. In this Anąnsi-tɔri group were Gąŋga and Yɔrka dances. The latter included a bit of dramatisation of the days of slavery. One man, taking a stick and using it as a crutch, simulated decrepitude. Another, who was standing near the drummers, announced in a loud voice, ‘Tomorrow early you must all come to work.’ There was groaning and limping; the man impersonating the cripple began to protest; and those who danced in the circle joined him, limping, and showing they were incapacitated. The man who was standing at the drums then announced that the next day all were to report for rations. Promptly the man threw away his crutch, and he and the dancers in the center, one behind the other, each holding to the shoulders of the dancer in front so that they formed a winding, twisting line, began an excited dance of jubilation, singing ‘Tamara Sɔnde! - Tomorrow's Sunday!’ to the solo line of ‘Amamba Tyɛnde!’³ This ended, the priestess begged the Earth gods again to let the wɩnti pass so that the dancing might begin. She sang,

Wąnke, są yu wani?

with the chorus singing,

Mi kɔ̨ tek' 'a sani pai̯mąŋ,

1 Among the Ashanti and the Yoruba, dances which are not ritualistic or are semi-religious in character, are danced by persons who have kerchiefs in each hand. These kerchiefs make for the best form in dancing.

2 The use of the word ‘drum’ for ‘dance’ or ‘ceremony’ is employed extensively by Dahomean natives who speak French. The phrase ‘to perform a ceremony’ is always ‘faire un tamtam’.

3 Song No. 152.

[p. 92]

that is, ‘Wąnke (name of a deity), what do you wish?’ ‘I have come to take the offerings.’

The next wɩnti called was the deity of the cross-roads, Lɛba. As the drums played and the singing began anew, several persons, who were seated, began to tremble. Their trembling began with the agitation of the lower limbs, after which the knees began to shake. This was followed by the quivering of the hands, the twitching of the shoulders, and the head. The facial expression was that of a person in a trance. Their eyes were either shut or they stared blankly, and the muscles were set and tense. As the drumming and singing continued, the heads of those who were experiencing possession began to shake agitatedly and to roll from side to side, and in this state they raised themselves from their seats, and sank back again. As the twitching and trembling and rolling of the head became more and more violent, a friend or relative seated beside the ones who were becoming possessed straightened the head-kerchiefs which were by now askew, if the persons were women, and helped them back to their seats. From time to time an exclamation issued from their lips, a shout, a groan, or words spoken rapidly and unintelligibly. They were speaking the secret language of their wɩnti. As their movements increased in violence, the arms were thrown about so that anyone sitting next to a possessed man or woman was struck. The jerking movements of the head were repeated with greater and greater frequency, until the head seemed to be rolling about on the shoulders. When the one who was going through these movements of possession was not in the front row, room was made so that there would be no obstacle in his way when he rushed forward into the dance-clearing.¹

The priestess was leading the singing as she danced to the god, and a man now joined her. He was the first one under possession. Soon a woman came dancing into the cleared space, and then others, until there were twelve people dancing in the center. They sang,

Lɛba - o, Lɛba - a,
Ma Aisa, gi mi pasi,
Mi pasa.

Lɛba - o, Lɛba - a,

Mother Aisa, give me the right of way,

And I will pass.²

1 This description of the way in which possession comes on might apply equally well to kɔmfo dances seen by us among the Ashanti, especially in the details of motor behavior.

2 Other songs, sung both to Lɛba and Afrekete, a wɩnti said to be a child born of the mating of Lɛba and Aisa, have been recorded, and will be found as Nos. 214-219. Afrekete is a Dahomean deity, the youngest member of the Sea pantheon worshipped in that country.

[p. 93]

The dancing for Lɛba, as it is for all other wɩnti, is an individual matter for each dancer possessed, though for each wɩnti, all those who are possessed dance according to a certain definite pattern that distinguishes the worship of that god from the worship of others. Thus, while no two Lɛba dancers danced exactly the same steps, or danced in coordination with any other person, each of them impersonated, in his own way, the scratching movements of the tatterdemalion deity of the cross-roads. Each went round and round in the circle, arms crossed from time to time over his breast, the fingers tugging at the clothing, as though scratching to relieve an itching sensation. This continued until more than half the dancers swooned, bringing their possession to an end. To those, and to the others who were still dancing, water was given to kɔru ɛ̨ŋ ʾati, to ‘cool their hearts’, so they might be calmed, and their gods depart, making way for another wɩnti. Soon the priestess put her foot on one of the drums and the music stopped. She did not speak, for none who dances for a wɩnti may engage in conversation during possession. The time was then 10:15. Though Lɛba had receded, the Aisa spirits had not yet been satiated, and the agida drum continued playing its beat. Again the priestess sang to the Earth Mother.¹ People whispered that the priestess a kɩsi Aisa, - had ‘caught’ Aisa. For the first time that evening, she showed the full intensity which marks the state of possession. She was a powerful woman, and it soon was apparent that she was a ‘stronger’ dancer than any of the others. Exclamations of praise came from those who were sitting near us, ‘'A wɩnti dąnsi moi̯, - her spirit dances splendidly.’ Water was again poured in front of those seated to bring the gods, and the old wɩntimąn who was drumming, raised both his hands, and cried out, ‘Presi Gadō, afkodrai̯ a no dɛdɛ yɛte! - Praise God, heathenism is not dead yet!’ The chorus sang ‘Odi, mama! Odi, mama! - Howdo, mother! Howdo, mother!’ Another possessed woman came out, and made the rounds of the seated figures, greeting each of them. Her crossed arms were held out in front of her away from the body, as three times she gave both her hands to all who were sitting in the front row, and to as many of those standing behind as she could reach. Many leaned forward to take her hands, for it was not this woman, but her wɩnti who was greeting those who had come to the dance. Before long, there were twenty people dancing in the cleared space, only a few of whom were men. One young man who became possessed, took a kerchief, and tied it about his waist. He had a female wɩnti, and a kerchief worn this way, as mentioned, is the sign of a married woman, and acts as a substitute for woman's clothing which he would have worn, had the dance been held away from the city. ‘Te mąn suma 'abi umą wɩnti, a weri umą krosi. - When a man has a female wɩnti, he dresses like a woman.’²

1 Song No. 200.

2 See above, p. 76, Note 1.

[p. 94]

The songs now changed to Grɔ̨-Papa. The Earth gods were not yet satisfied, for the Grɔ̨-Papa are the offspring of the mating of Mother Aisa and the male snake-spirit.

Papa Wɩnti lɔbi ʾɛm,
Ma Awąnasa.

Papa Wɩnti loves her,

Mother Awąnasa

they sang. A woman sitting behind us, who had gone through all the motions of possession, fell to the ground and began to roll. Having the male snake god, she rolled face downward, wooing the Earth deities. The priestess raised her, for it had been raining earlier in the day and the ground was damp; she continued dancing to the Papa god, standing upright, as the others were doing. Water to bring the god was again poured on the ground in front of those seated. At this time, however, there was some grumbling heard from those who wanted to dance for other wɩnti, for the Aisa deities were still not satisfied, though the time was now 11:15, and twelve people were possessed and dancing. At 11:20 there were seventeen in the cleared space, of whom sixteen were women. Those near us said ‘The Opɛte and the Aisa never have enough. It is always the same thing. They want to dance all night.’ There was only one thing to be done. Since to stop playing for a wɩnti before it has had its fill is to endanger the lives of those who are under possession, Aisa was left to the discipline of a wɩnti more powerful than she, so that she might be compelled by the new wɩnti to make way. When the Papa wɩnti was being called, they sang

Grɛ̨nya na goro,
Ma Aisa ɛ loi ɛ̨ŋg dyɛ̨ndyɛ̨n,
Papa-umą ɛ̨ŋ seki ɛ̨ŋ saka.

Run back to the earth

Mother Aisa has rung her bell,

The Papa woman is shaking her rattle.

This had not yet the desired effect, and was followed by the song,

Di ɛ gowɛ,
Di Wąnaisa,
Ma Loko,
Gɜdeǫsi,
Mi Dada.

That she go away,

That Wąnaisa,

Mother Loko,

Gɛdeǫsi,

My Dada.

[p. 95]

Six people went back to their places, dissenting, and there was argument back and forth that the Earth gods really should leave. At 12:05 A.M., the drums began to play for the snake gods. The priestess greeted her audience with ‘Ala masra nɛ̨ŋgɛre, wodi! - All master Negroes, howdo!’ As the drums played and the singers sang their snake-songs, more and more became possessed by the snake-gods, and they went about, greeting the seated auditors with crossed arms as had the woman first possessed by a snake spirit, saying, ‘Odi, odi,’ and naming their individual gods. But among them were still those who were dancing for the Earth. At 12:10 the priestess again bade the Earth gods goodbye, but the Earth wɩnti would not go, until four older women joined the priestess to saka, - to stop, - the wɩnti. Two dancers for the Earth still remained, but at 12:15 they were finally pacified.

It should be made clear that nothing in the attitude of anyone present expressed impatience against the dancers themselves for monopolising the evening. The fault found was with the selfishness of the Earth wɩnti who would not let other wɩnti come. It might be observed objectively that dancing for the Earth gods is one of the least exhausting of the dances in the whole wɩnti cycle, and it is not difficult, therefore, to continue dancing the Aisa dance for a long time.

After the Aisa spirits were gone, there was an interval, during which the priestess in charge paced about the clearing, agitated, anxious to dance again, now thoroughly roused. On the fringe of the gathering younger people were dancing what they called Kaseka wɩnti, the dance, semi-social in character, which comes as an interlude in the lull of wɩnti dancing. It consists in the skillful manipulation of the feet and the muscles of the buttocks. While the dancing had continued, more and more people drifted into the compound to watch what was going on, so that a group which at six o'clock numbered not more than fifty people, now comprised about three hundred. The drums were quiet, the drummers drifted off to talk with friends, or to the priestess' house to get a drink, but soon returned, and, at 12:25, when the drum-heads were again tightened, the new rhythms commenced.

This time the drums called the Lōąŋgo gods. This wɩnti was said to be an Earth and Snake deity in one. The song with which they began has been recorded.¹ The priestess herself was again showing signs of possession coming on, but the spirits of the worshippers were slow in manifesting themselves. She walked back and forth in the cleared space, looking about her, and she called out ‘No habi suma dɛ beifi? - Is there no one trembling?’ She changed the song,² - her voice was by now hoarse - and this being a more familiar melody, her lead was quickly taken up. Not all the songs

1 Song No. 183.

2 To Nos. 184-185.

[p. 96]

were equally popular, either because they were not as well known, or because the tune was not liked. When the chorus did not respond in sufficient volume, the priestess quickly changed to another song for the same deity. She sang,

Ma Lōąŋgo,
Mi na gąŋgule Lele.

Mother Loąŋgo,

I am gąŋgule Lele.

This was followed by,

Bumba-e
Kɛre Bumba-e.¹

After five minutes, the impatience of the priestess was rewarded, and she was joined first by one woman and then, in quick succession, by five other persons, one of whom was a man. Some of those possessed talked Lōąŋgo, rubbing their outstretched hands together as they spoke the language of their deity.

At 1:15, when the dance was in full sway, a uniformed policeman came and demanded to see the permit which had been issued for this dance. This caused great consternation, and many of the dancers stopped dancing. The large drums were spirited away at once so they would not be confiscated, for these drums are especially expensive and difficult to procure. There were many indications of suppressed anger because the drumming had to be stopped while people were still under possession, and murmurs that in spite of the fact that all the requirements had been complied with the dance was being interrupted. The priestess, furious but disdaining to speak, paced back and forth with quick steps, impatient to get back to her dancing. The police officer, himself a black man, understood the mood of the group, and enjoyed his authority. He stood there, joking, though his good spirits evoked no response from anyone. Finally, the policeman left, but returned in about fifteen minutes with a superior officer, who again entered the dance-clearing, and asked questions, seeking to find out, among other things, why White persons should be present at a wɩnti-dance. At 1:50, however, the dancing was resumed, but a uniformed policeman remained to the end.

The priestess had seated herself on a low bench at the second interruption, and now, with her head buried in her arms, began to

1 We have no translation for this verse. Encyc., p. 143, states ‘Bomba of Boemba is volgens Hostmann, Over de beschaving van negers, enz. I, 34, een watergod bij de Boschnegers en wel, in tegenstelling met hunne meeste goden, een goedaardige.’

[p. t.o. 96]

Plate XVII. A compound with benches arranged for a wɩnti dance.

[p. t.o. 97]

Plate XVIII. Within a compound: children at the entrance to a house.

[p. 97]

sing for Bush Kromanti, the Lōąŋgo god having left as abruptly as had the drums at the interruption.

Yu mu yɛpi, yu mu yɛpi, yu mu yɛpi mi,
Yu mu yɛpi, yu mu yɛpi, yu mu yɛpi - o!
Yu mu yɛpi, Osai̯ Tąndo
Yu mu yɛpi, Abɛrewa.

You must help, you must help, you must help me,

You must help, you must help, you must help-o!

You must help, Osai̯ Tąndo

You must help, Ancient One.¹

With emotions stirred by their anger at the intervention of the police, possession came quickly, and a man began to dance almost immediately. He wore a red kerchief about his neck, and danced on his knees. The priestess helped him to his feet. He continued to dance with his eyes closed, and when he stopped for a moment, his body shook as did the others who were feeling possession coming on. Two women soon joined him, and then a boy of about eighteen. Before long, there were ten dancers in the circle beside the priestess, three of them men. As they danced, the arms were alternately outstretched, with index fingers pointing, and this was the pantomime of warriors, shooting. The priestess, who herself was possessed, called out ‘Oso!’ as she made these gestures, and sang,

Sa komąnda
Na Kromanti Akuba
Sa komąnda
Achawa-o
Achawa-a
Dati na kɔmfo
A kɔmfo na mi, ba.

Sa komąnda

Kromanti Akuba

Sa komąnda

Achawa-o

Achawa-a

That is the kɔmfo

My kɔmfo, brother.

This song in the Kromanti tongue named the priestess' own Kromanti spirit.² It was followed by another, which the priestess also led,

1 Song No. 165.

2 We could obtain no exact translation of it, nor would the priestess sing it for us into the phonograph when we visited her the following day.

[p. 98]

 

Yawa, wi bɛgi,

 

Yawasi, Yawasi,

 

Yawa.

 

 

 

Yawa, we pray you,

 

Yawasi, Yawasi,

 

Yawa.

While this dance was going on, the young girl of whom we have already spoken in connection with our discussion of the learning of wɩnti-dancing, was shown by the priestess how to dance for this god in the manner we have described.¹ At 2:55 A.M., the priestess asked this wɩnti if it was ready to go. She ran about the circle, clasping her hands, and finally threw her body across the kwakwa and the drums to silence them, and the spirit left.²

Other winti dances we witnessed varied but slightly in general pattern from the one we have described. In one, the priestess carried a black horse's tail,³ which she used as she danced in the same manner as the other devotees used their kerchiefs. In another, when dancing Kromanti, the son of the priestess, who was being trained as her successor, had a kerchief thrown over his head of a blue background dotted with white stars, and his dancing consisted of a rhythmic motion of the head only, for he had one of the most powerful wɩnti of all, - the ‘head’ wɩnti, that is, a curing wɩnti. In another, the dancers for the snake deities rolled on the ground, those lying on their backs were said to ‘opo den bɛre gi na tapu, - open their wombs for the sky’, and those lying face downward were spoken of as mating with the ‘gɔro gadō, - Earth gods’.

In principal outline, these dances showed a complete lack of exhibitionistic motivation on the part of the dancers. Each person danced to his wɩnti, or, rather, embodied his wɩnti who was dancing there, and each seemed unaware of anything about him. All possession, leading from agitation to increasingly greater excitation, culminated in a faint. It is important to recognise how much form mattered in these ceremonies. If a kerchief came awry while the person possessed was dancing, or a koto-yaki got twisted about, or a man's shirt became unfastened, the person who had come with such a one was at once in the circle adjusting the clothing that had become disarranged, while moving along with the dancer in order not to interfere with the behavior of those in a state of possession. Nothing orgiastic took place in the dances we observed. The drinking, as in the case of the dance we have just described, was

1 See above, p. 73.

2 Other songs sung for the Bush Kromanti wɩnti during this dance have been recorded and are to be found as songs Nos. 165, 166 and 167.

3 Among the Yoruba, the Dahomeans, and the Ashanti, we have seen horses' tails employed by those who dance for the gods in the ritual dances.

[p. 99]

moderate. Away from the city, where complete freedom is had in the worship of the wɩnti, whatever takes place in the dances is never regarded as orgiastic in the minds of the people themselves. If there is connection between a woman and a man not her husband, her husband, if he is present, does not view the act as a breach of fidelity, for when connection takes place under possession, it is merely regarded as the will of the wɩnti. When there is connection between a human being and an animal, as on rare occasions is said to occur in the fullness of possession, this, too, is viewed as the personal expression of the wɩnti who had temporarily made of the person possessed his medium. However undisciplined these dances may appear when behavior under possession takes on more extreme forms, from the point of view of those, who live by the sanctions of wɩnti, the dances are rigidly patterned. Those who sat beside us at the dances we witnessed knew the significance of every change of beat in the music, could at any moment tell us the name of the god who was being called, could point out the minute differences which, too detailed to be seen by an eye not expert, were to be discerned when the dancing of one person was contrasted with that of another. In each instance, that slight difference in mode of dancing denoted a different wɩnti of the same group. We do not underrate the full significance of the physiological and psychological release of tension that comes to those who worship the wɩnti after the violence of possession, whatever form that possession may take, but it must be emphasized that the patterning of this release follows traditional behavior.