santeria - Blogs - Tripatini2024-03-29T11:33:44Zhttps://tripatini.com/profiles/blogs/feed/tag/santeriaThe Ceiba - Latin America’s Most Storied Treehttps://tripatini.com/profiles/blogs/ceiba-silk-floss-kapok-tree-latin-america-culture-history2016-05-21T12:00:00.000Z2016-05-21T12:00:00.000ZJosé Balidohttps://tripatini.com/members/JoseBalido<div><p><span class="font-size-1"><em><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9296334662,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9296334662,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9296334662?profile=original" /></a><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jodastephen/"></a></em></span><span style="font-size:8pt;"><a href="https://www.istockphoto.com/es/foto/magn%C3%ADfica-ceiba-verde-gm1203198584-345721074" target="_blank"><em>PatricioHidalgoP</em></a></span><br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> For years I had this kinda funny (as in funky, not ha-ha) tree growing right smack in the middle of my front yard in <strong>Miami</strong>. It was admittedly not a particularly cuddly or friendly looking bit of botany, its trunk dramatically prickling all over as it is with stubby conical thorns. But for me it’s all about the mystique, being as it is a <strong><em>ceiba</em></strong> (English names include “<strong>kapok</strong>,” “<strong>silk cotton</strong>,” and “<strong>silk floss</strong>”). This is a genus of tropical flora which though found as far afield as <strong>Africa</strong> and <strong>Asia</strong>, I’ve come across constantly on my travels through <strong>Latin America</strong> and the <strong>Caribbean</strong> – and so might you. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9296334291,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9296334291,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9296334291?profile=original" /></a><a href="http://iStock-1162555888" target="_blank"><span style="font-size:8pt;"><em>Leonsbox</em></span></a><br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> The <em>ceiba</em> is the official tree of <strong>Puerto Rico</strong> and <strong>Guatemala</strong> and even an entire city in <strong>Honduras</strong> is named <strong>La Ceiba</strong> (which, just by the way, is popular among visitors for its adventure activities). The one in my Miami yard was still practically a sapling, still skinny and maybe six meters (20 or so feet) tall. But they can grow to be giants, with heights of more than 61m (200 ft.) and even more dramatically gnarled bases sometimes nearly as wide as small houses.<br /><br /></p>
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<p><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9296334864,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9296334864,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9296334864?profile=original" /></a><span style="font-size:8pt;"><em><a href="https://www.istockphoto.com/es/foto/ceibo-troncos-gm472500342-63428935" target="_blank">jalvarezg</a></em></span><br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> And the roots (so to speak) of <em>ceibas</em> in the history and culture of <strong>Mexico</strong>, <strong>Central America</strong>, and the Caribbean are especially deep.In fact, they are depicted in Maya mythology as the “world tree” (below), linking Xibalba, the underworld, with the terrestrial realm and the heavens (doesn’t get more central than that, right?), and you'll come across representations in museums and ancient Maya archaeological sites and museums, especially in items such as incense holders and burial urns. <span>Wherever the <em>ceiba</em> grows, it seems, it has long cast a spell on the local peoples, providing them over the centuries - not just with practical products like oils, stuffing for pillows and mattresses, and medicinal substances - but spiritual inspiration as well. </span></p>
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<p><span style="font-size:13px;"><br /> <em><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9296334685,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9296334685,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9296334685?profile=original" /></a><span style="font-size:8pt;"><a href="https://www.parquelaceibadevieques.com/ceiba/" target="_blank">parquelaceibavieques.com</a></span></em><br /> <br /></span></p>
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<p>But it was actually in <strong>Cuba</strong> that I first became aware of the cultural impact of the <em>ceiba</em>, at a landmark called El Templete (below). It’s a small neoclassical temple-style structure built in 1828 on <strong style="font-size:13px;">Havana</strong>’s oldest square, the <strong>Plaza de Armas</strong>, on a spot marking the where a <em>ceiba</em> once stood – the legendary tree under which the Roman Catholic mass was celebrated that marked the founding of San Cristóbal de la Habana in 1519. That original tree is long gone, of course, but it's represented by a marble column, and another large successor grows right out out in front, venerated particularly by the followers of the afro-Cuban religion <em><strong><a href="https://www.tripatini.com/profiles/blogs/santeria-religion-cuba" target="_blank">santería</a></strong></em> (the ceiba is also held sacred in <strong>West Africa</strong>, where this faith has its roots). This tree also is the focus of an annual tradition on November 16, the date of Havana's founding, in which Cubans of all ages and beliefs make three circles around it and throw down coins before it while making three wishes.</p>
<p><span style="font-size:13px;"><br /> <br /> <span style="font-size:8pt;"><em><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9296335058,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9296335058,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9296335058?profile=original" /></a><a href="https://es.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archivo:El-templete-habana.JPG" target="_blank">CheoMalanga</a></em></span><br /> <br /> <br /></span></p>
<p>Such is the place that one of Latin America's most distinctive trees has the culture and history of this hemisphere that it truly transcends mere botany to cross into the realm of the mystical and the legendary. So keep that in mind should you happen to come across any <em>ceibas</em> - they're way more than just hostile-looking spikes!</p>
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<p></p></div>Santería: In Cuba, that 'Voodoo' that You Do So Wellhttps://tripatini.com/profiles/blogs/santeria-religion-cuba2019-11-12T12:06:16.000Z2019-11-12T12:06:16.000ZDavid Paul Appellhttps://tripatini.com/members/DavidPaulAppell16<div><p><br /> <a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9008711083,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9008711083,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9008711083?profile=original" /></a><a href="https://www.istockphoto.com/photo/cuba-gm1096483894-294416450" target="_blank"><span style="font-size:8pt;"><em>Remanz</em></span></a><br />
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In the <strong>Western Hemisphere</strong>, the religions brought over by African slaves have been part of the scene for centuries in <strong>Brazil</strong>, the <strong>Dominican Republic</strong>, <strong>Puerto Rico</strong>, <strong>Cuba</strong>, and most famously <strong>Haiti</strong>. But until not many years ago, they were largely condemned by the Roman Catholic church and dismissed as “ignorant” and “low-class” by all but the poor. But I’ve had the chance to observe various aspects of its Cuban variants, both on the island and in South Florida, and whether one believes in it or not, <strong>santería</strong> is undeniably a moving, often beautiful, occasionally violence-tinged tradition that has in many ways made Cuban music, art, letters and even larger society what they are today. If you visit the island,* chances are you’ll see some reference to santería, whether practitioners dressed in white (above, a lady commonly offering photo ops in Old Havana), shrines, a museum like the one in the town of Regla just across the bay (reachable by ferry), or a folkloric performance including santería dance or music. So I thought a quick introduction might be in order.<br />
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<a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9008711257,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9008711257,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9008711257?profile=original" /></a> <em><span class="font-size-1"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/birgitta/" target="_blank">Birgitta Seegers</a>, </span></em><br />
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Known more properly as “<em><strong>Ifá,</strong>”</em> “<em><strong>La Regla Lucumí</strong>,” </em>or<em> “<strong>La Regla de Ocha</strong>,” santería</em> (a Spanish word that could be translated as “saintism”) came over to Cuba starting in the 16th century mostly with Yoruba-speaking West Africans from what is now part of Benin, Senegal, and Nigeria. But because of Catholic condemnation they quickly learned to hide their devotion to the traditional gods by in effect grafting them onto Catholic saints (<em>santos</em>), so that when they appeared to be praying to St. Barbara they were really worshipping <strong>Changó</strong>, lord of fire, thunder, and lightning; similarly, St. Lazarus masked <strong>Babalú-Ayé</strong> (patron of the sick; remember the old Desi Arnaz/Ricky Ricardo chestnut?); and Our Lady of Mercies stood for <strong>Obatalá</strong>, the creator of humanity; other orishas include <strong>Yemayá</strong> (above), <strong>Elegguá</strong>,and <strong>Ochun</strong>). That’s why the religion is referred to as “synchretistic,” meaning a blending of two different religions.<br />
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<a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9008711274,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9008711274,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9008711274?profile=original" /></a><em><span class="font-size-1"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/zz77/" target="_blank">Evgeny Zotov</a>. </span></em></p>
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These parallel <em>santos</em> are referred to as <em><strong>orishas</strong> </em>(a name adopted, by the way, by a popular Europe-based Cuban rap group), and religious practices surrounding them include casting shells for divination; offerings of fruit, rum, and cigars; and <strong><em>bembé</em> </strong>ceremonies (left) in which dancing and drumming lead participants to supposedly become possessed and channel the orishas; ritual sacrifice can also be involved (usually of chickens, sometimes of larger animals like goats); you can get a flavor of a bembé in the video below. Santería priests are called <em><strong>babalaos</strong>, </em>and shops selling candles, charms, and other santería supplies are <em><strong>botánicas</strong></em>. No longer is this stuff semi-clandestine - more than a few Cubans from all walks of life buy into it partially or completely, it's become a fairly high-profile annual tradition for a group of babalaos to issue a New Year's forecast of events in Cuba and the world (this year's forecast, inclidentally included more earthquakes <span>climate change, and cautioned that people should also be "vigilant against matrimonial discord"). </span></p>
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<a href="{{#staticFileLink}}9008711863,original{{/staticFileLink}}" target="_blank"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}9008711863,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="750" alt="9008711863?profile=original" /></a><span class="font-size-1"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slice/" target="_blank"><em>Adam Kuban</em></a></span></p>
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<p>Santería has made its way here to Miami too, where I drive past <em>botánicas</em> all the time and see white-clad initiates in Walgreens (and it meets good ol' American ingenuity in good-luck and get-rich aerosol sprays). You may perchance recall a landmark 1993 case called "Church of Lukumi Babalu Aye v. City of Hialeah," in which the U.S. Supreme court struck down a municipal ordinance banning animal sacrifice). </p>
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<p><em><br /></em> I should also mention that my description above is a vast simplification; like any organic religion, santería can be pretty complex. And you shouldn’t visit Cuba without seeking to learn a bit about this fascinating aspect of its culture, whether it’s the Regla museum, the dancing and art on Havana’s Callejón de Hamel - and yes, even the watered-down, glammed-up music and costumes in the extravagant Tropicana floor show. You can also ask at your hotel or <em>casa particular</em> (B&B) about other opportunities.<br />
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I've always found this to be one of the most fascinating and haunting aspects of <strong>Cuban culture</strong>, and definitely consider it a don't-miss, whether you make it to Cuba or only as far as Miami. <em>Aché.</em><br />
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<em><i>Longtime travel journalist and guidebook author <strong>David Paul Appell</strong> is CEO of Tripatini.com and its parent EnLinea Media LLC, an online content provider and social media management company.</i> </em></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-1">Photos: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/slice/" target="_blank"></a></span></p></div>