21272: (Chamberlain) Blood and money voodoo lifts Haitian spirits (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: Greg Chamberlain <GregChamberlain@compuserve.com>

     By Simon Gardner

     DABORNE, Haiti, April 13 (Reuters) - Hunched in a dark, dank chamber,
his shadow dancing on a blood-red wall in the half-light of a candle,
voodoo priest La Vie Bon sings incantations to summon Haiti's spirits.
     Suddenly the diabolical-looking figure slumps in silence, the candle
snuffs out and mustiness fills the void. A twitching, a spasm and the
priest's body starts to shudder.
     Voodoo spirit Baron Criminel has awakened.
     "You are not safe!" seethes the voice, now high-pitched and rasping.
Between paroxysms, the priest swigs from a bottle of rum as a red silk
gown, gold chains and black sunglasses twinkle in the darkness. A new
candle is lit.
     "You need something to protect you." The priest turns abruptly, grabs
the devotee hard and starts to shriek. He snorts violently and spits what
looks like thick blood onto their arm.
     Such ceremonies are common across this poor, strife-torn Caribbean
land of African roots that is still reeling from a bloody revolt that
ousted president Jean-Bertrand Aristide in February.
     Experts estimate more than half of the eight million population
practices voodoo -- a blend of religions from West Africa that Haiti's
ancestors brought over on slave ships combined with tribal Indian
traditions.
     A heady mix of spirits, rituals, animal sacrifice and song, voodoo is
a way of life in Haiti, where around 80 percent of the population is
Catholic.
     Catholic saints even form part of the iconography at voodoo temples, a
hangover from times of slavery when the images of saints were painted on
shrines to appease missionaries. Many saints have counterparts in the
spirit world.
     Want to get rich quick? Ensure a business contract is respected? Do
away with a love rival? A pantheon of 401 spirits or "Lwa" have an answer
-- for a price.
     Voodoo is ingrained in Haiti's turbulent history and has been banned
several times over the years. A voodoo priest led the first major slave
uprising against former colonial master France in the late 18th century in
the run up to independence.
     Many believe Aristide, a former Roman Catholic priest, had voodoo
powers that protected him from bullets, but he fell from grace after being
abandoned by the spirits. Even now, in exile, his supporters hope he'll use
invisible powers to return.
     "Voodoo can be viewed like a tool...to help the Haitian people solve
their daily problems, whatever the problem," said Max Beauvoir, a renowned
voodoo expert, himself a voodoo priest, or "houngan," for 40 years.
     "We feel that the Lwa are on a higher level than us, see better what
goes on, and offer us what they believe will be the best solution to
accomplish whatever we want to," he added.
     The spirits often demand chickens or other animals be sacrificed,
their throats slit and blood drained, in order to grant desires.
     The spirit world is venerated across Haiti.
     Each spring, hordes stream onto the streets to take part in the voodoo
festival of Rara, processing and dancing to voodoo music -- a blend of
brass band jazz and frenetic samba-like drumming.
     "I believe in voodoo. I believe in the spirits. They protect me,"
beamed street-seller Jeannette Jeodone as she gyrated in a snaking
moonlight Rara procession near Port-au-Prince, balancing her wares in a tub
on her head.
     But many fear the dark side of voodoo, and tales abound of people
turned into zombies -- the living dead -- by voodoo priests. It is regarded
as the ultimate voodoo punishment.
     According to voodoo lore, a person's soul or spirit lives in a watery
underworld with the "Prince of Death," Baron Samedi, before being
reincarnated in a new body. A zombie's soul is trapped in the ether by a
curse, unable to pass into a new body.
     People flock from long distances to the sanctuary of La Vie Bon in the
tiny rural village of Daborne, around 20 miles (32 km) west of the Haitian
capital Port-au-Prince, to summon spirits like Baron Criminel to do their
bidding -- be it good or evil.
     First the visitor is ushered into a courtyard painted with gaudy
murals of coffins, serpents and daggers to brief La Vie Bon on what they
want. Once summoned, the spirit that "possesses" the priest takes over,
jabbering in Creole -- Haiti's French-based language.
     Next comes an offering. Money and whisky or rum -- voodoo's holy
water. The spirit rasps more advice before staggering into an antechamber
and collapsing on the floor beneath an altar made from a coffin. Then
silence. The priest comes to and asks what the spirit said through him,
apparently dazed.
     But foreigners beware. In this poor country, voodoo "spirits" often
demand exorbitant sums to outsiders for their protection -- such as a
pigeon for slaughter and $3,500, a decade's earnings for the average
Haitian.
     La Vie Bon, aka 46-year-old Jean Telis Toutpuissant, emerges from his
temple wearing baggy jeans, a baseball cap and gold chains and jumps into
his top-of-the-range four-wheel drive truck.
     "Listen to the spirits. The spirits have treated me well," he laughs,
speeding off to a new hotel and nightclub complex he is building nearby.