More on Vodou

We regularly listen to Speaking of Faith on NPR. I went to the website trying to find more information about a recent guest on their show and found this story on Haitian Vodou and a link to a photographer who has visited ceremonies in New York. I'm not sure if we posted these links before but they're worth a look.

The other thing I've been thinking about this week is an interview with an author who asked: wherever you are in your faith, and whichever faith you choose to practice, how do you treat your wife? your friends? strangers? Are you a pleasant person to be around? Or in other words, do unto others as you want them to do unto you. So, treat people kindly, with respect, patience, and genuine interest.

Sometimes here in Haiti I feel like I am an unpleasant person to be around. I complain about not having a toilet and electricity, I bicker with the neighbors/landlord, I walk past countless strangers everyday who are asking for help from me directly. So where do I go from here? I've thought about meditation as a way to relax, focus on God, and possibly improve my outward disposition towards others. Maybe that will help, who knows, but whether or not I agree with author Frank Schaeffer I think he poses a valid question that deserves further reflection if I want to consider myself a Christian.

It's that season again...

...for Vodou, that is. In the Artibonite Valley we hear the night-drums and see the assorted odd bits of Vodouiana from about Halloween to Easter. Last year we nearly stumbled into a torchlit cow-sacrifice processional as we locked up the office gate one night, and I'm hoping to avoid that experience this year.

Not only has the subject of Vodou recently appeared here and here, it came up in conversation yesterday with our teammates Frantzo and Fritzner. As we returned from a meeting with a group in the next town over, Bryan accidentally ran over something we've come to recognize as clearly Vodou: a calabash bowl with a candle in it sitting in an intersection. Everyone hastily reassured Bryan that because it was the truck that broke the bowl, and the truck is not alive, it would be fine because magic can't affect machines.

Well!

me: So if trucks represent technology, can we say that technology is more powerful than Vodou magic?

Frantzo: Yes! If everyone had technology, Vodou would be finished. The more technologically-advanced people become, the less they rely on Vodou.

Fritzner: Yes, Vodou definitely gets in the way of development. If it helped, then Haiti and Africa would be the most developed nations on earth.

(So - can we think of technological development as a form of evangelism?)

It's really interesting to me to think of the role that people expect religion to play in their lives - F & F seem to think that Vodou fulfills some need that is more apparent when physical needs are not being met, but once a person is able to meet basic needs the role of Vodou in the life of that person drastically shrinks.

The Artibonite Valley is known as the Scary Center of Vodou by people in other parts of Haiti, but it seems to me that what F & F point out is true. People turn to Vodou when there's an illness the local hospital can't address. They turn to Vodou when they feel like someone is taking unfair advantage of a situation. They use Vodou to access power that feels otherwise remote.

Is this an indictment of the Christian church? Of the Haitian government?

Dismissing Vodou as a religion of the peasants is sort of akin to throwing out the cultural baby with the ceremonial bathwater, since Vodou has long been the primary way that Haitians have addressed questions of spirituality. I think it's important to take that means of expression seriously and pay attention to what it can tell us about a perception of God that is unique to this culture.

I know a lot of evangelical Americans in particular think that Haiti is the way it is because of the practice of Vodou, but it might turn out to be just the opposite.

(By the way, be sure to check out the American Museum of Natural History's archived exhibition, The Sacred Arts of Haitian Vodou. It provides a nice overview that covers many aspects of the religion.)

Jesus and Jay-Z

Once again I am here to write about things that are not earth-shattering but occupy some of my time here. With all of our newfound study time here in Port-au-Prince, our Creole teacher has been giving us fun and interesting homework assignments. Most recently he has asked us to pick Bible stories and re-tell the stories in our own words (our own Creole words). Imagine a six-year-old trying to retell the story of Jesus walking on water.

Well, the best part is that "Jesus" in Creole is spelled "Jezi" and is pronounced "Jay-Z." Jay-Z happens to be the name of a fairly well-know rap artist that I secretly listen to. The funny part is that I can't seem to shake the imagery; every time I hear someone say Jezi I only hear Jay-Z and picture Jay-Z the rapper in Bible times walking on water, feeding the 5,000, and speaking in parables.

This has not been all bad. Haiti is about 99% black, but most people here imagine Jesus as a white man with a beard. I think that in the 6 weeks we've been here I've been told at least a dozen times that I look like Jesus (I've had men shout it from passing cars, kids, teenagers.... almost everyone thinks I look like Jesus). I've been asked why all the images of Jesus are of a white man, and I have no answer.

So in my mind Jesus is a fairly large black man that raps in parables and had a hard-knock life. It works for me and I'm not trying to shake the image yet.

On another, more serious, note, some members of our team are going to some hurricane- damaged areas tomorrow and next week. They'll be distributing food, water, medicine and other essentials. Please pray for them as they will see a lot of devastation and only have supplies to help a handful of people. (MCC is currently raising funds to help more flood victims.) Thank you for keeping us in your thoughts during these past several hurricanes, and please continue to remember the flood victims here in Haiti.