Candomblé

As you begin to understand the peoples of the world you soon respect their religious beliefs. It was probably not necessary for me to bathe in the Ganges to get closer to the Hindu but you need to go beyond reading a paragraph in Fodor’s. After immigrating to Brazil in 1976, I became aware of Candomblé. Beyond their strong Roman Catholic base was a mix derived from African slaves. I traveled to Salvador, where colonial plantations were staffed by slaves shipped from Africa. On my first morning walk near my beachside hotel, I saw a sacrificial chicken and scattered stones in the sand. JuJu from Ghana was here in Bahia. Later at a church in the city, there was a statue of a black Christ in chains. At the market place, I asked where I could find a terreiros de Candomblé. Finally, a cab driver agreed to drop me off but said he would not wait. At a compound in the hills above the city, there were several workers making preparations for ceremonies to be held that night. I was not greeted very well and the driver held on, then an elderly man came up. I introduced myself. My Portuguese was fairly good at this time and I was not a gawking tourist. He was the high priest, very proud of his following, and willing to show me around. I went back to the cab, paid the driver enough to convince him to wait, and grabbed my camera. A protest came from a guy on the porch when he saw my camera. I shrugged at the priest so he made me promise not to use any photos for commercial gain.
About the grounds were a variety of alters. Trees painted white and ornamented with colorful paper hangings – here a possessed subject’s evil spirits would be banished following the branches. My questions about saints related to Catholicism led him to show me his alter chamber filled with ceramic saints. He gave an extensive description of many as they related to afro-catholic interpretation. Back at the office building, he offers me some lunch – what else but sacrificial chicken that probably served an exorcism in its passing.