Baba Who? Babalú!

Two weeks ago, I was in San Francisco to participate in the good work of the Second Earth Medicine Alliance conference . As we did last year , my goddaughter Phoenix Smith and I led a public ceremony focusing the oricha’s energy on healing the Earth. Last year we did an awán for Babalú, and this year Elegguá directed us to perform an awán for Olocun along the edge of San Francisco Bay. Phoenix found an amazing little park in West Oakland, right next to the port facilities, and just before the ceremony began, she learned that people refer to this area as one of the points of the toxic triangle in the Bay. The area where we worked last year is also one point of the triangle, and next year we plan to work the third point. The ceremony was beautiful. We had about fifteen people turn out on a gorgeous day. We set up an altar right on the beach for egun, Elegguá, and Olocun. To honor the spirits of that place, we sat on the beach with the ancestors for an hour or so, sharing messages fro

This story is sometimes called “The Vengeance of Oluó Popó” but I think it really gets to the deepest motivations of this oricha. In the land of Kowanilé there lived a diviner called Iká Bemí. He was a child of Changó and enjoyed great wealth. All of his lands were rich; he reined in tranquility, health, and economic growth. All of his businesses prospered and everyone lived well. One day a pilgrim arrived, leprous and dressed in sack cloth. It was Oluó Popó, who shook a conical bell made of wood and sang: “Babá odire agolona e ago e mowanile." He frightened all who saw him, and they fled from him. He knocked on Iká Bemí’s door. Hearing the song, the diviner was frightened and did not get out of bed. Oluó Popó continued to knock insistently, so Iká Bemí sent Elegba to find out what the beggar wanted. When Oluó Popó saw Elegba, he understood that Iká Bemí had belittled him. He became very angry and began to sing: "Echichi abe ikú Awó kigbáru ikú arun kosi kode kilo mow

+ I I 0 I I I I I Pedro Abreu—Asonyanye also writes the sign Ogbe-Otura under the awán basket. Nicknamed Ogbe-Tuanilara, this sign is often referred to as the place where Asojano’s secrets were born and where illness was spread across the world. These may or may not have anything to do with each other, but it is interesting to notice these things share the same source. Which of Asojano’s many secrets are born here? The secret of what goes into the já to make it powerful? The secret that goes into the beaded and be-shelled bracelet called the cachá? The secret that Pedro places inside the covered vessel where Asojano eats? The secret place where he eats? The secret that Jundesi planted behind the house of Armando Zulueta? The sign does include a long story about why oricha priests and priestesses perform their cleansing offerings—why they make ebó—with Eleguá. Eleguá wants to know the secrets of Osain, the oricha of the secrets of the forest. In the process, his mother transf

When I was a young priest, I was preparing to give Olocun, the mysterious oricha of the bottom of the sea, to one of my godchildren. We had the vessel, the tools, the shells, and the beaded necklace. As we waited for the date of the ceremony to arrive, he dreamed that he was wearing a bracelet for Olocun on his left wrist. It was like the multistranded idé that priests get when they are initiated but it had only one strand of blue and clear beads. I was a young priest, so I asked my teacher, Ernesto Pichardo, how to deal with this dream. He explained to me that the Earth Deities often communicate through dreams; furthermore, they often suggest more variations in their ceremonies than other orichas. His advice was to divine with Elegguá’s shells to see if the dream really was a revelation that should be followed. I no longer remember what sign came out, but when I divined for the addition of this bracelet it was approved by Elegguá. So we made the bracelet and when the ceremony came, we

Because Babalú-Ayé spent many years living as wanderer on the road, many people consider him to be one of the owners of the road. Within the Regla de Ocha, better known as Santería, most deities have different manifestations, which people call caminos or roads. Old priests and priestesses say that the messenger and trickster Elegguá has more roads than any other deity. Some say he has 101 roads, but others say he has 256. After Elegguá, Babalú probably has more roads than any other divinity. I have documented more than sixty, but I am sure that future travels will reveal more. Different people imagine these roads in different ways. My teacher, Ernesto Pichardo—Obá Irawó of Miami, uses a family metaphor: “Babalú-Ayé is like the last name they all share, but the road is like the first name.” Others conceive of the roads as reflections of different stages or etapas in the lives of the divinities. And many people do speak of the youngest and oldest roads of different deities. These

My teacher, Ernesto Pichardo--Obá Irawó, likes rhetorical questions, so one day he asked me, "What odu does Babalú-Ayé appear in?" I mentioned that people say that Babalú is born in the sign Odí-Eyeunle, along with vomit and smallpox. He said, "Yes, that is true, but there is sickness in every sign, and so Babalú is in every sign. In this he is like Elegguá, who appears everywhere." It is true. The sign Oché Meyi speaks of problems with the blood and diseases like leukemia. The sign Iroso-Ofún speaks of impotence. In the treatises that compile the wisdom about the signs, each one speaks to particular diseases or vectors of infection. I have heard that some Yoruba babalawos always mark an offering for Eshu, and then one for Babalú-Ayé, who has immense power. "Always" is probably a figure of speech, but it does point to a pattern: Babalú-Ayé is offered something in every odu. Babalú-Ayé is strongly associated with the Earth itself, and West Africans and