You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
CARIBBEAN DIASPORA IN THE <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> presents a new cultural <strong>the</strong>ory based on an exploration<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. The <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> demonstrates a cultural dynamism which embraces Spanish speak<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
English speak<strong>in</strong>g and French speak<strong>in</strong>g migrants. All cultures are full <strong>of</strong> breaks and<br />
contradictions as Lat<strong>in</strong> American and <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>the</strong>orists have demonstrated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
ongo<strong>in</strong>g debate. This book comb<strong>in</strong>es unique research by <strong>the</strong> author <strong>in</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> with <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical discourse <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American and <strong>Caribbean</strong> scholars.<br />
Focus<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious communities, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g Cuban/Puerto Rican Santería<br />
(Regla de Ocha), Haitian Vodou, Shango (Orisha Baptist) from Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago,<br />
and Brazilian Pentecostal church, Schmidt’s observations lead to <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong><br />
a cultural concept that illustrates a culture <strong>in</strong> an ongo<strong>in</strong>g state <strong>of</strong> change, with more<br />
than one form <strong>of</strong> expression depend<strong>in</strong>g on situation, time and context. Show<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
creativity <strong>of</strong> religions and <strong>the</strong> way immigrants adapt to <strong>the</strong>ir new surround<strong>in</strong>gs, this<br />
book fills a gap between Lat<strong>in</strong> American and <strong>Caribbean</strong> Studies.
VITALITY OF INDIGENOUS RELIGIONS<br />
Series Editors<br />
Graham Harvey, Open University, UK<br />
Lawrence Mart<strong>in</strong>, University <strong>of</strong> Wiscons<strong>in</strong> Eau Claire, <strong>USA</strong><br />
Tabona Shoko, University <strong>of</strong> Zimbabwe, Zimbabwe<br />
Ines Talamantez, University <strong>of</strong> California, <strong>USA</strong><br />
Ashgate’s Vitality <strong>of</strong> Indigenous <strong>Religions</strong> series <strong>of</strong>fers an excit<strong>in</strong>g cluster <strong>of</strong> research<br />
monographs, draw<strong>in</strong>g toge<strong>the</strong>r volumes from lead<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>ternational scholars across a wide<br />
range <strong>of</strong> discipl<strong>in</strong>ary perspectives. Indigenous religions are vital and empower<strong>in</strong>g for<br />
many thousands <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous peoples globally, and dialogue with, and consideration <strong>of</strong>,<br />
<strong>the</strong>se diverse religious life-ways promises to challenge and ref<strong>in</strong>e <strong>the</strong> methodologies <strong>of</strong> a<br />
number <strong>of</strong> academic discipl<strong>in</strong>es, whilst greatly enhanc<strong>in</strong>g understand<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> world.<br />
This series explores <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> contemporary <strong>in</strong>digenous religions from<br />
traditional, ancestral precursors, but <strong>the</strong> characteristic contribution <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> series is<br />
its focus on <strong>the</strong>ir liv<strong>in</strong>g and current manifestations. Devoted to <strong>the</strong> contemporary<br />
expression, experience and understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> particular <strong>in</strong>digenous peoples and <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
religions, books address key issues which <strong>in</strong>clude: <strong>the</strong> sacredness <strong>of</strong> land, exile from<br />
lands, diasporic survival and diversification, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenization <strong>of</strong> Christianity and<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r missionary religions, sacred language, and re-vitalization movements. Prov<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong><br />
particular value to academics, graduates, postgraduates and higher level undergraduate<br />
readers worldwide, this series holds obvious attraction to scholars <strong>of</strong> Native American<br />
studies, Maori studies, African studies and <strong>of</strong>fers <strong>in</strong>valuable contributions to<br />
religious studies, sociology, anthropology, geography and o<strong>the</strong>r related subject areas.<br />
OTHER TITLES IN THE SERIES<br />
Mi’kmaq Landscapes<br />
From Animism to Sacred Ecology<br />
Anne-Christ<strong>in</strong>e Hornborg<br />
ISBN 978-0-7546-6371-3<br />
From Primitive to Indigenous<br />
The Academic Study <strong>of</strong> Indigenous <strong>Religions</strong><br />
James L. Cox<br />
ISBN 978-0-7546-5569-5<br />
Karanga Indigenous Religion <strong>in</strong> Zimbabwe<br />
Health and Well-Be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Tabona Shoko<br />
ISBN 978-0-7546-5881-8
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>Diversity</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
BETTINA E. SCHMIDT<br />
Bangor University, UK
© Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt 2008<br />
All rights reserved. No part <strong>of</strong> this publication may be reproduced, stored <strong>in</strong> a retrieval system<br />
or transmitted <strong>in</strong> any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy<strong>in</strong>g, record<strong>in</strong>g<br />
or o<strong>the</strong>rwise without <strong>the</strong> prior permission <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> publisher.<br />
Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt has asserted her moral right under <strong>the</strong> Copyright, Designs and Patents Act,<br />
1988, to be identified as <strong>the</strong> author <strong>of</strong> this work.<br />
Published by<br />
Ashgate Publish<strong>in</strong>g Limited<br />
Ashgate Publish<strong>in</strong>g Company<br />
Gower House Suite 420<br />
Cr<strong>of</strong>t Road<br />
101 Cherry Street<br />
Aldershot Burl<strong>in</strong>gton, VT 05401-4405<br />
Hampshire GU11 3HR<br />
<strong>USA</strong><br />
England<br />
Ashgate website: http://www.ashgate.com<br />
British Library Catalogu<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Publication Data<br />
Schmidt, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E.<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> diaspora <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> : diversity <strong>of</strong> caribbean religions <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>.<br />
– (Vitality <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous religions Series)<br />
1. <strong>Caribbean</strong> Americans – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (State) – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> – Social life and customs<br />
2. <strong>Caribbean</strong> Americans – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (State) – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> – Intellectual life<br />
3. <strong>Caribbean</strong> Americans – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (State) – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> – Religion<br />
4. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (N.Y.) – Social life and customs 5. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (N.Y.) – Intellectual life<br />
6. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (N.Y.) – Religious life and customs 7. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (N.Y.) – Ethnic relations<br />
I. Title<br />
303.48’2729’07471<br />
Library <strong>of</strong> Congress Catalog<strong>in</strong>g-<strong>in</strong>-Publication Data<br />
Schmidt, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. [Karibische <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. English]<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> diaspora <strong>in</strong> <strong>USA</strong> : diversity <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> /<br />
Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt.<br />
p. cm. – (Vitality <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous religions series)<br />
Includes bibliographical references (p. 175) and <strong>in</strong>dex.<br />
ISBN 978-0-7546-6365-2 (hardcover : alk. paper)<br />
1. <strong>Caribbean</strong> Americans – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
(State) – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> – Social life and customs. 2. <strong>Caribbean</strong> Americans – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
(State) – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> – Intellectual life. 3. <strong>Caribbean</strong> Americans – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (State) –<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> – Religion. 4. Popular culture – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (State) – <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. 5. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
(N.Y.) – Social life and customs. 6. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (N.Y.) – Intellectual life. 7. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
(N.Y.) – Religious life and customs. 8. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (N.Y.) – Ethnic relations. I. Title.<br />
F128.9.C27S3613 2008<br />
303.48’272907471–dc22<br />
2007042393<br />
ISBN 978-0-7546-6365-2<br />
Pr<strong>in</strong>ted and bound <strong>in</strong> Great Brita<strong>in</strong> by MPG Books Ltd, Bodm<strong>in</strong>, Cornwall.
Contents<br />
List <strong>of</strong> Figures<br />
Acknowledgements<br />
vii<br />
ix<br />
1 The Multiple Dimensions <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture 1<br />
2 Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 7<br />
3 <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 33<br />
4 Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 87<br />
5 A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 145<br />
6 <strong>Caribbean</strong> vs. Monologue Europe? 169<br />
Bibliography 175<br />
Index 195
This page <strong>in</strong>tentionally left blank
List <strong>of</strong> Figures<br />
2.1 The Columbus Day Parade (1998) 14<br />
2.2 A typical crowd at <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn (1999) 15<br />
2.3 Struggl<strong>in</strong>g with <strong>the</strong> w<strong>in</strong>d at <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn (1999) 16<br />
2.4 The Children’s Carnival Parade <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn (1999) 17<br />
2.5 J’ouvert <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn (1999) 18<br />
2.6 Participants at a dance school <strong>in</strong> Manhattan 28<br />
2.7 Báta drums <strong>in</strong> Spanish Harlem 30<br />
3.1 The Iglesia Universal <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn 42<br />
3.2 Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn 47<br />
3.3 The Altar, Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, Brooklyn 48<br />
3.4 Leaders <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, Brooklyn 49<br />
3.5 Inside <strong>the</strong> Société la Belle Venus II, Brooklyn 60<br />
3.6 Consultation room, Société la Belle Venus II, Brooklyn 61<br />
4.1 The Virg<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> Lourdes <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn 88<br />
4.2 Ocumicho pottery (Ethnographical Collection, Philipps-University<br />
<strong>of</strong> Marburg, 2001) 99<br />
4.3 Drums <strong>in</strong> a restaurant, Brooklyn (1998) 142<br />
6.1 Participants at <strong>the</strong> J’ouvert (1999) 170<br />
With <strong>the</strong> exception <strong>of</strong> Figure 4.2, all photographs were taken by <strong>the</strong> author.
This page <strong>in</strong>tentionally left blank
Acknowledgements<br />
My <strong>in</strong>terest <strong>in</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants arose from my own family history: one <strong>of</strong> my<br />
ancestors was a wanderer too. He left his home and travelled to <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> World. Like<br />
so many migrants before and after him, he could not fulfil his dreams and so returned<br />
home. Decades later his descendants and <strong>the</strong>ir neighbours had to leave <strong>the</strong>ir homes<br />
for good. A farmer became a build<strong>in</strong>g worker beh<strong>in</strong>d a tar mach<strong>in</strong>e and a family <strong>of</strong><br />
eight lived <strong>in</strong> a small flat. Despite all odds, <strong>the</strong>ir migration has come to a successful<br />
end; <strong>the</strong>ir stories symbolize <strong>the</strong> successful <strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> a generation <strong>of</strong> refugees.<br />
With my book I want to honour <strong>the</strong>m.<br />
But before I start tell<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> stories <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>s <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> I want to thank<br />
those who have helped me on my own journeys. I am deeply <strong>in</strong>debted to Lois Wilcken<br />
who not only opened up <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> world <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> to me, but also became a<br />
friend. My warm thanks go to Hector Carrasquillo, Carolle Charles, Lynda Day, Karen<br />
Brown, Felix Sanabria, Virg<strong>in</strong>ia Sánchez Korrol and my colleagues <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Department<br />
<strong>of</strong> Puerto Rican Studies <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn who supported me <strong>in</strong> various ways dur<strong>in</strong>g my<br />
time <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn. I am very grateful to Selwyn Wilk<strong>in</strong>son, Edel<strong>in</strong>e Sa<strong>in</strong>t Armand,<br />
Awílda Sterl<strong>in</strong>g and Susan Richardson who <strong>of</strong>fered me <strong>the</strong>ir time and hospitality. Back<br />
<strong>in</strong> Europe I want to thank Gisela Welz and Sylvia Schomburg-Scherff for <strong>the</strong>ir help<br />
and Karl Wernhart and Mark Münzel for <strong>the</strong>ir support. I also am grateful to Graham<br />
Harvey and Ashgate who <strong>of</strong>fered me this opportunity to publish my book <strong>in</strong> English.<br />
My research outcome was orig<strong>in</strong>ally published under <strong>the</strong> title Karibische <strong>Diaspora</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Vom »Wilden Denken« zur »Polyphonen Kultur« (2002) though this<br />
English publication is not simply a translated but an updated edition.<br />
This book would have been not published without <strong>the</strong> support <strong>of</strong> Peggy Morgan.<br />
Thank you, Peggy. You opened your home to a stranger and guided me through my<br />
first steps <strong>in</strong> Brita<strong>in</strong>.<br />
F<strong>in</strong>ally, I would like to dedicate this book to my late fa<strong>the</strong>r, who told me <strong>the</strong> story<br />
<strong>of</strong> his grandfa<strong>the</strong>r leav<strong>in</strong>g his village (for a while) to reach a land beyond <strong>the</strong> borders.
This page <strong>in</strong>tentionally left blank
Chapter 1<br />
The Multiple Dimensions<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture<br />
What is a <strong>Caribbean</strong> person, and consequently what is a <strong>Caribbean</strong> writer? Are <strong>the</strong>y<br />
always Creole? Where are <strong>the</strong>y born, and where do <strong>the</strong>y live? Cannot <strong>the</strong> Creole<br />
culture – I mean <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands – be transplanted and survive just as<br />
well through <strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> memory? In o<strong>the</strong>r words, aren’t <strong>the</strong>re new and multiple versions<br />
<strong>of</strong> créolité? (Condé 1998: 109)<br />
Maryse Condé’s questions draw our attention to <strong>the</strong> ongo<strong>in</strong>g debate about <strong>the</strong><br />
mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> Creole identity and Creole culture. Thousands <strong>of</strong> emigrants from<br />
islands <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> – even ra<strong>the</strong>r removed ones – have to face <strong>the</strong> problem <strong>of</strong><br />
identification and demarcation every day. Does <strong>the</strong> young novelist Edwidge Danticat,<br />
who left <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, grew up <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> and publishes <strong>in</strong> English, still represent<br />
Haiti? She tells stories about Haitians, about a Haitian girl <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and also<br />
about <strong>the</strong> Haitian massacre <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Dom<strong>in</strong>ican Republic. Her decision to write <strong>in</strong><br />
English <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> French or Kreyòl separates her from o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>Caribbean</strong> authors.<br />
Never<strong>the</strong>less, she is still a <strong>Caribbean</strong> – though one with a new perspective, as she is<br />
able to identify problems with <strong>the</strong> objectivity <strong>of</strong> a distant view, problems which are<br />
<strong>of</strong>ten unchallenged by people on <strong>the</strong> islands. Both perspectives represent <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
culture, each be<strong>in</strong>g one <strong>of</strong> multiple versions.<br />
S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1990s, when I started my fieldwork <strong>in</strong> Puerto Rico, <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
islands and <strong>the</strong>ir peoples have fasc<strong>in</strong>ated me. The cultures <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> do<br />
not fit <strong>in</strong>to a pigeonhole; <strong>the</strong>y exhibit all k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> demands and assumptions. At<br />
one moment people def<strong>in</strong>e <strong>the</strong>mselves on <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> national language, and <strong>the</strong>n<br />
<strong>the</strong>y praise <strong>the</strong> common history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir own and o<strong>the</strong>r islands. Sometimes <strong>the</strong>y<br />
agree to a common def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> identity, sometimes <strong>the</strong>y argue aga<strong>in</strong>st<br />
it. The representatives <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> cultures seem to be too diverse to agree<br />
<strong>in</strong> even one aspect. And <strong>the</strong> picture gets worse when we <strong>in</strong>clude <strong>the</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong>.<br />
Many <strong>Caribbean</strong>s migrated to Panama <strong>in</strong> order to f<strong>in</strong>d jobs dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
construction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Panama canal. Consequently, today most Panamanians feel a<br />
sense <strong>of</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, where most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir ancestors came from.<br />
Some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir descendents live now <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, where <strong>the</strong>y have become part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> community. The poetry <strong>of</strong> Carlos Guillermo Wilson illustrates <strong>the</strong> sense<br />
<strong>of</strong> disruption which many feel today. His great grandparents came from St Lucia,<br />
Barbados, Granada and Jamaica to Panama. Today he lives <strong>in</strong> California though<br />
he is <strong>in</strong>deed a <strong>Caribbean</strong> person. In his works he argues aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> rejection <strong>of</strong><br />
African heritage <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> creolization (see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, his poem Uprooted;<br />
Wilson 1998: 42–3). Wilson def<strong>in</strong>es <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture as <strong>the</strong> result <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> violent
2<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
mixture <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous people from Quisqueya, Xaymaca, Bor<strong>in</strong>quén and Cuba,<br />
European immigrants who <strong>in</strong>vaded <strong>the</strong>se territories and African slaves brought to<br />
work <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> gold m<strong>in</strong>es, sugar plantations and sugar mills (1998: 43). Despite his<br />
reduced perspective – he ignores, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> Panamanian history as well as all<br />
new <strong>in</strong>fluences – he illustrates one central aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture: <strong>the</strong> ambivalent<br />
relationship to <strong>the</strong> African heritage. While some – such as Wilson – stress <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
African heritage, o<strong>the</strong>rs expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir dark sk<strong>in</strong> colour with reference to Moorish<br />
or Indigenous ancestors and even react <strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong>fence when addressed as from an Afro-<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> background. The same can be said <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Asian <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>,<br />
which is ignored by some and praised by o<strong>the</strong>rs. However, while search<strong>in</strong>g <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> for a <strong>Caribbean</strong> restaurant, I was <strong>in</strong>vited to a Ch<strong>in</strong>ese-Cuban one where<br />
all <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> servers – with Ch<strong>in</strong>ese faces – spoke Spanish.<br />
Particularly <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>the</strong>re is an ongo<strong>in</strong>g debate about <strong>the</strong> ontological<br />
essence <strong>of</strong> ‘<strong>Caribbean</strong> culture’. The Carib <strong>New</strong>s, a well-known <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>-based<br />
weekly magaz<strong>in</strong>e, reports on social, cultural and political events on <strong>the</strong> islands but<br />
Puerto Rico is rarely mentioned. And at <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, <strong>the</strong><br />
largest to take place outside <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, Haitian migrants are not well received.<br />
Never<strong>the</strong>less, all <strong>the</strong>se groups belong to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> and represent <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>.<br />
The <strong>Caribbean</strong> cultures illustrate new demands on cultural <strong>the</strong>ory. With regard to<br />
<strong>the</strong> multiple dimensions <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture(s) one has to accept that culture can no<br />
longer be def<strong>in</strong>ed as a self-conta<strong>in</strong>ed entity but as someth<strong>in</strong>g full <strong>of</strong> discont<strong>in</strong>uities,<br />
repetitions and contradictions. Not only is Creole def<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> a different way on every<br />
island, but <strong>the</strong> reflexive <strong>in</strong>terpretations <strong>of</strong> Creole are dist<strong>in</strong>guishable accord<strong>in</strong>g to age,<br />
social belong<strong>in</strong>g, gender, liv<strong>in</strong>g conditions, social situation, time and location. And<br />
let us not forget all <strong>the</strong> new <strong>in</strong>fluences. These processes, which are <strong>of</strong>ten described<br />
as creat<strong>in</strong>g impurities, do not fit <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> a homogeneous culture but rem<strong>in</strong>d<br />
me <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘Savage M<strong>in</strong>d’ <strong>of</strong> Claude Lévi-Strauss.<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America had similar problems approach<strong>in</strong>g cultural categories. The def<strong>in</strong>ition<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Indigenous is as difficult as that <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Mestize because both categories represent<br />
more social than ethnic characteristics and social characteristics change cont<strong>in</strong>uously.<br />
Hence previous debate about cultural <strong>the</strong>ories <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America left <strong>the</strong> notion <strong>of</strong><br />
homogeneous entities beh<strong>in</strong>d some time ago and began to focus more and more on<br />
mixtures. The European schema <strong>of</strong> pure culture does not exist <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America, and<br />
nei<strong>the</strong>r does <strong>the</strong> North American dream <strong>of</strong> a melt<strong>in</strong>g pot. Lat<strong>in</strong> America as well as<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> needs categories that break with established def<strong>in</strong>itions. The cultural<br />
<strong>the</strong>oretical debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, which has been a multidiscipl<strong>in</strong>ary<br />
field from <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g, has taught me as an anthropologist that we<br />
should not only look beyond <strong>the</strong> border but also <strong>in</strong>clude <strong>the</strong> borderl<strong>in</strong>e <strong>in</strong> our way <strong>of</strong><br />
th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. Literature studies, for <strong>in</strong>stance, started to <strong>in</strong>vestigate new media and o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
communication technologies <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America much earlier than o<strong>the</strong>r discipl<strong>in</strong>es<br />
began to conduct research. Their reflections about literature represent an <strong>in</strong>terior view<br />
<strong>of</strong> societies which is similar to <strong>the</strong> anthropological effort <strong>of</strong> an emic understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>r cultures. Hence we should not ignore <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>the</strong>oretical studies.<br />
Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong>se studies lack an ethnographical view that enriches our<br />
discipl<strong>in</strong>e. Ethnographical description should imply snapshots <strong>of</strong> social lives,<br />
present<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>dividuality <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> abstract concepts, and general assumptions should
The Multiple Dimensions <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture 3<br />
always be construed on <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> ethnographical data. O<strong>the</strong>rwise <strong>the</strong> distance<br />
between <strong>the</strong> two central positions <strong>of</strong> every anthropological study, <strong>the</strong> participant’s<br />
observer and <strong>the</strong> act<strong>in</strong>g subject, would be too large. We need, <strong>of</strong> course, a certa<strong>in</strong><br />
k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> distance if we do not want to reduce anthropology to ventriloquism (see<br />
Geertz 1993b). None<strong>the</strong>less, ethnographical research should not create mute objects;<br />
human be<strong>in</strong>gs are <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> all ethnographical research, not objects.<br />
The <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual data <strong>of</strong>ten creates problems. Because anthropology<br />
is frequently focused on groups, whe<strong>the</strong>r ethnic or social, it is <strong>in</strong> danger <strong>of</strong> los<strong>in</strong>g<br />
sight <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual or generaliz<strong>in</strong>g too quickly. The broad expressions ‘Haitians’,<br />
‘Cubans’ and so on are <strong>of</strong>ten spoken while forgett<strong>in</strong>g that <strong>in</strong>dividuals gave us <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
time <strong>in</strong> order to expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir world to us; <strong>in</strong>dividuals allowed us to <strong>in</strong>trude <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
private worlds; <strong>in</strong>dividuals <strong>in</strong>vited us <strong>in</strong> to be with <strong>the</strong>ir families. Literature studies,<br />
on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, concentrate on authors, novels or poems, and hence on s<strong>in</strong>gular<br />
works or persons. Literature studies could <strong>the</strong>refore teach anthropology someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
about <strong>the</strong> conservation <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuality, if we allowed <strong>the</strong>m <strong>in</strong>to our field.<br />
On <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se considerations, when I describe <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious<br />
communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> I will present only <strong>in</strong>dividual versions, never those<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> whole religion or <strong>the</strong> whole <strong>Caribbean</strong> community. I allow myself <strong>the</strong> luxury<br />
<strong>of</strong> present<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> particular, on which I will base my <strong>the</strong>oretical debate. Thus <strong>the</strong><br />
ethnographical research does not present a contextualization <strong>of</strong> a <strong>the</strong>ory but ra<strong>the</strong>r<br />
<strong>the</strong> ethnographical data <strong>in</strong>spires <strong>the</strong>oretical debate. Any ethnographical research<br />
presents a multiple read<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> reality (da Matta 1991: 241), and should preserve<br />
<strong>the</strong> ‘voice’ <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> actors (even <strong>in</strong> a non-verbatim way). The responsibility <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
anthropologist is to extract <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> partners and hence to present <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
story, <strong>the</strong>ir reality and <strong>the</strong>ir cultural context (Geertz 1993b: 140). In do<strong>in</strong>g so <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
reality loses <strong>the</strong> exotic image and becomes familiar. Deal<strong>in</strong>g with foreign realities<br />
<strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> danger <strong>of</strong> constru<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>m with smoo<strong>the</strong>d out contradictions and breaks.<br />
However, <strong>the</strong> particularity <strong>of</strong> ethnographic research is to show <strong>the</strong> contradictions<br />
and not to palliate <strong>the</strong>m <strong>in</strong> spite <strong>of</strong> all <strong>the</strong> pressure. 1 Hence throughout this book I<br />
will h<strong>in</strong>t at problems <strong>in</strong> f<strong>in</strong>d<strong>in</strong>g common categories, for <strong>in</strong>stance common names or<br />
common ways <strong>of</strong> self-representation. As illustration I will <strong>in</strong>clude some snapshots<br />
which allow some <strong>in</strong>sights <strong>in</strong>to <strong>Caribbean</strong> diversity. These snapshots are, <strong>of</strong> course,<br />
subjective impressions which I got dur<strong>in</strong>g my ‘observant participation’ and which<br />
reflect <strong>the</strong> debate with O<strong>the</strong>rness. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Michael Pye, observant participation<br />
is a particularly necessary supplement <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> religions (2000: 78–9). Small<br />
contradictions and ambivalent moments are visible only dur<strong>in</strong>g daily situations,<br />
observable only through participation. Small gestures and <strong>in</strong>terpersonal <strong>in</strong>teraction<br />
sometimes allow us better <strong>in</strong>sight than long <strong>in</strong>terviews. For example, people <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
cannot suppress a harsh word or a rude gesture – though <strong>the</strong>y are <strong>of</strong>ten more reluctant<br />
to verbalize <strong>the</strong>ir disapproval towards strangers. These small and very human<br />
situations show how cultures are lived. Hence I will ‘illustrate’ my <strong>the</strong>oretical debate<br />
with such situations. However, <strong>the</strong>se ‘pictures’, <strong>the</strong> descriptions <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> situations, are<br />
not only illustrations but also characterizations <strong>of</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> aspects which contradict<br />
1 See, for example, Kohl 2000: 80–81 about <strong>the</strong> problematic position <strong>of</strong> anthropologists<br />
<strong>in</strong> legal cases.
4<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>oretical discourses. I use <strong>the</strong>m as metaphors to clarify <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical discussion:<br />
<strong>the</strong>y po<strong>in</strong>t to <strong>the</strong>oretical standpo<strong>in</strong>ts and demonstrate <strong>the</strong> processual dimension <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> debate. I understand <strong>the</strong> different concepts <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural <strong>the</strong>oretical debate as<br />
be<strong>in</strong>g part <strong>of</strong> an ongo<strong>in</strong>g dispute. They <strong>of</strong>ten contradict <strong>the</strong>mselves, dispute on m<strong>in</strong>or<br />
or major po<strong>in</strong>ts, or <strong>the</strong>y add important aspects to each o<strong>the</strong>r. The described situations<br />
illustrate with <strong>the</strong>ir multiple read<strong>in</strong>gs that no <strong>the</strong>ory is unimpeachable because <strong>the</strong>re<br />
is not only one read<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> reality.<br />
The metaphors have ano<strong>the</strong>r use, namely that <strong>the</strong>y connect <strong>the</strong> ethnographic part<br />
with <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical, prepar<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> reader for <strong>the</strong> last chapter where I will present a<br />
new <strong>the</strong>oretical contribution to <strong>the</strong> debate. These scenes add a fur<strong>the</strong>r dimension to<br />
<strong>the</strong> descriptions, as <strong>the</strong>y conta<strong>in</strong> additional ethnographical data. As Aleida Assmann<br />
writes, culture can be separated <strong>in</strong>to two categories: <strong>the</strong> everyday life and <strong>the</strong> festival<br />
life, <strong>the</strong> fluent and <strong>the</strong> static. The scenes demonstrate <strong>the</strong> ‘fluent’, <strong>the</strong> part which<br />
<strong>the</strong> day produces and consumes, while <strong>the</strong> ethnographic descriptions focus on <strong>the</strong><br />
‘festival’, that part <strong>of</strong> life which generations conserve as <strong>the</strong>ir common property<br />
(Assmann 1991: 11). Both parts belong to one culture toge<strong>the</strong>r, hence <strong>the</strong> fluent adds<br />
to <strong>the</strong> static which never<strong>the</strong>less is <strong>in</strong> a dynamic process <strong>of</strong> change.<br />
To come back to <strong>the</strong> quote at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>troduction: Maryse Condé’s<br />
question ‘Where are <strong>the</strong>y born, and where do <strong>the</strong>y live?’ already h<strong>in</strong>ts at <strong>the</strong> central<br />
aspect <strong>of</strong> this book. Instead <strong>of</strong> study<strong>in</strong>g <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> I will<br />
<strong>in</strong>vestigate <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture among migrants from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>.<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is still <strong>the</strong> most preferred migration target and hence meet<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong><br />
various migrant groups. The <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> I will focus on is located ma<strong>in</strong>ly<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, though some part <strong>of</strong> my fieldwork was conducted <strong>in</strong> Manhattan. My<br />
research was divided <strong>in</strong>to three parts: a small preparation phase, a ma<strong>in</strong> research<br />
period and a smaller follow-up phase. Dur<strong>in</strong>g my ma<strong>in</strong> research period I lived <strong>in</strong><br />
Brooklyn, where most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants live. I was teach<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> Brooklyn<br />
College <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>City</strong> University <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and learnt about <strong>the</strong> cultural diversity<br />
<strong>of</strong> Brooklyn from various perspectives from my students and colleagues <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
department <strong>of</strong> Puerto Rican and Lat<strong>in</strong>o Studies. In Chapter 2 I will present <strong>the</strong><br />
background <strong>of</strong> my fieldwork and expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> methodological framework.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g my <strong>in</strong>vestigation I focused on travell<strong>in</strong>g people whose cultural repertoire<br />
changes dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> migration movement. In this process religion develops important<br />
functions, <strong>in</strong>tegrative as well as demarcat<strong>in</strong>g. Religious communities <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
migrants were at <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> my research. They demonstrate <strong>the</strong> flexibility<br />
<strong>of</strong> cultural phenomena; <strong>the</strong>y are not compasses but sextants that measure <strong>the</strong><br />
position <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> navigator <strong>in</strong> every situation and refer every measure to <strong>the</strong> position<br />
(see Baumann 2000: 163). In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong> borderl<strong>in</strong>e between <strong>the</strong> various<br />
religious communities seems to dim<strong>in</strong>ish and develop new syncretism out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
contact <strong>of</strong> religious traditions. In <strong>the</strong> Chapter 3 I will present <strong>the</strong>se new religious<br />
creations. With reference to Vodou, Santería and <strong>the</strong> Spiritual Baptists, as well as <strong>the</strong><br />
Iglesia Universal (which fights harshly aga<strong>in</strong>st African spirits), I will demonstrate<br />
<strong>the</strong> dynamic changes that can be transferred to cultural designs. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
seems to be more open to creat<strong>in</strong>g new religious systems than <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, while<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America is more open to <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g new <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical debate.<br />
Chapter 4 gives an overview <strong>of</strong> various debates <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>
The Multiple Dimensions <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture 5<br />
about cultural <strong>the</strong>ories. Start<strong>in</strong>g with mestizaje and hybridization I will present<br />
<strong>the</strong> Brazilian debate before expla<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> different positions <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> debate about<br />
creolization. My focus <strong>in</strong> this chapter will be on contributions from Lat<strong>in</strong> America<br />
and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, hence I will touch North American and European contributions<br />
only on <strong>the</strong> surface.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> last few decades a new metaphor has permeated debate about cultural and<br />
religious mixtures, which was <strong>in</strong>troduced by Claude Lévi-Strauss <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1960s: <strong>the</strong><br />
bricolage. Inspired by his elaborations I have developed my own contribution to <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>oretical debate which I will expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> Chapter 5.<br />
Throughout <strong>the</strong> book I will never touch <strong>the</strong> question that has concerned Afro-<br />
American studies s<strong>in</strong>ce Melville Herskovits: <strong>the</strong> question <strong>of</strong> au<strong>the</strong>nticity. I regard<br />
every element <strong>of</strong> a culture or a religion au<strong>the</strong>ntic when its creators, <strong>the</strong> believers<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion or <strong>the</strong> person liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> culture, believe <strong>in</strong> its validity. The novelist<br />
Lourdes Vázquez describes, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> Creole culture as follows:<br />
We began to <strong>in</strong>vent a homemade Creole manner <strong>of</strong> expression when <strong>the</strong> Ta<strong>in</strong>os left us an<br />
island with a few gods perched atop <strong>the</strong> tallest mounta<strong>in</strong>, a list <strong>of</strong> words that cont<strong>in</strong>ue to<br />
form an active part <strong>of</strong> our vocabulary, and a territory organized by regions and towns with<br />
clearly and fully identified names. (1998: 76)<br />
As she declares, creolization is only <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> process that started with<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>vasion <strong>of</strong> new cultures <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. Inventions are <strong>the</strong>refore not secondary<br />
processes but necessary ones, as she illustrates with reference to her own family story.<br />
Her great-grandfa<strong>the</strong>r migrated from Eastern Europe to Venezuela where he met his<br />
Puerto Rican wife-to-be. Toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y moved to Puerto Rico. Two generations later<br />
Vázquez’s fa<strong>the</strong>r moved to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> but his wife could not stand <strong>the</strong> cold and moved<br />
back to <strong>the</strong> island. Today, <strong>the</strong> novelist lives <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, a city which is <strong>of</strong> more<br />
importance for Puerto Ricans than San Juan, <strong>the</strong> capital <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> island. In <strong>the</strong> Puerto<br />
Rican parts <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> people have created an idealized image <strong>of</strong> Puerto Rico and<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, which is not based <strong>in</strong> reality but which is important for <strong>the</strong> selfconfidence<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> society. Vázquez <strong>the</strong>refore identifies herself proudly as Puerto Rican<br />
as well as representative <strong>of</strong> Creole culture, because <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> is part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>.<br />
I started this chapter with <strong>the</strong> question <strong>of</strong> what a <strong>Caribbean</strong> person is. I have<br />
mentioned three different novelists who all represent different types <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
people: A Haitian American, who was born <strong>in</strong> Haiti but grew up <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, a<br />
Panamanian with <strong>Caribbean</strong> ancestors, and a Nuyorican, that is a Puerto Rican<br />
liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. The list could be cont<strong>in</strong>ued forever. A <strong>Caribbean</strong> person can live<br />
anywhere <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> world, can speak various languages and hence cannot be described<br />
with one characteristic <strong>in</strong> an essentialist manner. Apart from a (sometimes very<br />
distant) <strong>Caribbean</strong> ancestor <strong>the</strong>y have <strong>in</strong> common only one aspect: <strong>the</strong>ir own image<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> and a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> relationship to a place with<strong>in</strong> it.
This page <strong>in</strong>tentionally left blank
Chapter 2<br />
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
A journey on <strong>the</strong> subway <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> resembles a journey through <strong>the</strong> ethnic<br />
structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> metropolis. The change from one neighbourhood to ano<strong>the</strong>r is<br />
reflected <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> composition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> passengers <strong>in</strong> a compartment. The journey from<br />
Manhattan to Brooklyn is <strong>the</strong>refore a journey <strong>in</strong>to a different world. As <strong>the</strong> tra<strong>in</strong><br />
clatters over <strong>the</strong> bridge, we are leav<strong>in</strong>g Manhattan, <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city and <strong>the</strong><br />
symbol <strong>of</strong> power, wealth and success. Slowly <strong>the</strong> tra<strong>in</strong> reaches <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
bridge and we are <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, <strong>the</strong> largest part <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. The passengers are<br />
as ethnically diverse as <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>habitants.<br />
After <strong>the</strong> bridge <strong>the</strong> subway passes underground aga<strong>in</strong>. At <strong>the</strong> first stop many<br />
Ch<strong>in</strong>atown workers – from Manhattan’s Ch<strong>in</strong>atown, that is – leave <strong>the</strong> tra<strong>in</strong> because<br />
we have reached Brooklyn’s Ch<strong>in</strong>atown. Some stops later we are <strong>in</strong> Prospect Park, <strong>the</strong><br />
favourite place for those who cannot afford to live <strong>in</strong> Manhattan. The area became quite<br />
fashionable after <strong>the</strong> rents <strong>in</strong> Manhattan became far too expensive for people work<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> Manhattan. After Prospect Park most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> passengers have a darker complexion.<br />
We reach Flatbush, <strong>the</strong> primary liv<strong>in</strong>g area for migrants from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>.<br />
*<br />
In his description <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> fragmentation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> world at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century<br />
Clifford Geertz concludes that <strong>the</strong> more th<strong>in</strong>gs move toge<strong>the</strong>r, <strong>the</strong> more <strong>the</strong>y rema<strong>in</strong><br />
separate (1996: 71). The relevance <strong>of</strong> this superficial statement becomes significant as<br />
soon as one challenges <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant assumption <strong>of</strong> a homogeneous concept <strong>of</strong> culture.<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is a meet<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t for migrant groups but not a melt<strong>in</strong>g pot: every<br />
group arrives with its own heritage. Hence, one can notice an <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g tendency to<br />
diversification, for <strong>in</strong>stance with regard to <strong>the</strong> labels Lat<strong>in</strong>o and Hispanic. Migrants<br />
from Lat<strong>in</strong> American and <strong>the</strong>ir descendants refused to be identified with <strong>the</strong>se labels<br />
because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> negative connotation. ‘Lat<strong>in</strong>o’ <strong>in</strong>dicates that someone’s ancestors came<br />
from Lat<strong>in</strong> America, whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y arrived last week or a hundred years ago. The label<br />
‘Hispanic’ even <strong>in</strong>cludes people from Spa<strong>in</strong> just because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> language, ignor<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> local variations <strong>of</strong> Spanish <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America as well as <strong>the</strong> fact that migrants from<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America sometimes speak an <strong>in</strong>digenous language as <strong>the</strong>ir first language and not<br />
Spanish. <strong>New</strong> migrants from Lat<strong>in</strong> America <strong>the</strong>refore prefer to be identified as Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
Americans or with reference to <strong>the</strong>ir home country or ethnic identity. 1<br />
1 Puerto Ricans sometimes stress <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>in</strong>digenous heritage by present<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>mselves as<br />
Boricua, while Mexicans <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> regard Aztlán as home. See Klor de Alva 1995: 251–2.
8<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
A similar problem is <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> creat<strong>in</strong>g a def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. In<br />
English literature we can see a dist<strong>in</strong>ction between <strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> terms ‘West Indies’<br />
and ‘<strong>Caribbean</strong>’; <strong>the</strong> first refers to <strong>the</strong> Anglophone islands and <strong>the</strong> latter to a more<br />
diffuse geographical area. Some authors even use <strong>the</strong> term ‘Afro Creole <strong>Caribbean</strong>’<br />
to describe ‘non-Hispanic <strong>Caribbean</strong> bas<strong>in</strong> societies <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong> descendants <strong>of</strong><br />
enslaved Africans have generally been demographically and culturally dom<strong>in</strong>ant’<br />
(Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 3). However, even Philip Kas<strong>in</strong>itz, <strong>the</strong> author <strong>of</strong> this def<strong>in</strong>ition,<br />
stresses a strong African <strong>in</strong>fluence on <strong>the</strong> Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>Caribbean</strong>. Because <strong>of</strong><br />
fundamental differences between Spanish and non-Spanish colonies dur<strong>in</strong>g colonial<br />
times, scholars sometimes ignore <strong>the</strong> common characteristics <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
societies. I <strong>the</strong>refore use <strong>the</strong> term ‘<strong>Caribbean</strong>’ for people from all <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands,<br />
whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y belonged to <strong>the</strong> Spanish Empire, <strong>the</strong> British, <strong>the</strong> French or <strong>the</strong> Dutch.<br />
In this chapter I will <strong>in</strong>troduce <strong>the</strong> ethnographic sett<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>.<br />
I will beg<strong>in</strong> with some figures which expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Immigration and<br />
Nationality Act (1965) on <strong>the</strong> ethnic composition <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> before<br />
expla<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> methodological framework. The next section concentrates on <strong>the</strong> concept<br />
<strong>of</strong> urban culture and describes <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival as an important phenomenon <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. In <strong>the</strong> last part <strong>of</strong> this chapter I discuss some representations <strong>of</strong><br />
Francophone and Hispano-phone <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> with reference to <strong>the</strong> French<br />
school <strong>of</strong> ethnoscénologie and expla<strong>in</strong> my own approach to <strong>the</strong> field.<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> as Liv<strong>in</strong>g Space for <strong>Caribbean</strong> Migrants<br />
Ethnographic Sett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Urban areas are predest<strong>in</strong>ed locations for cultural cross-cutt<strong>in</strong>gs and disruptions.<br />
The complexity and dynamics <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> lifestyle are part <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>,<br />
but <strong>in</strong> a permanent process <strong>of</strong> change. In 1998 <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> celebrated <strong>the</strong> 100th<br />
anniversary <strong>of</strong> various events which have affected <strong>the</strong> structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city to <strong>the</strong><br />
present day: <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spanish-American war, <strong>the</strong> conquest <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> last Spanish<br />
colonies <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> and <strong>the</strong> Pacific, which brought about <strong>the</strong> occupation <strong>of</strong><br />
Puerto Rico, and also <strong>the</strong> fusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> five boroughs <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> former <strong>in</strong>dependent town Brooklyn <strong>in</strong>to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Though some people<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brooklyn still regret that Brooklyn is not an <strong>in</strong>dependent town despite its 2.5<br />
million <strong>in</strong>habitants, Brooklyn is very popular among migrants from Asia, Russia,<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. Brooklyn, toge<strong>the</strong>r with Queens, is <strong>the</strong> target <strong>of</strong><br />
most migrants arriv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> city. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>ers still consider Manhattan <strong>the</strong> most<br />
prom<strong>in</strong>ent part; never<strong>the</strong>less 35 per cent <strong>of</strong> migrants prefer to live <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
(<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> Department <strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g 1996: 51). Brooklyn is <strong>the</strong>refore<br />
<strong>the</strong> most ethnically diverse part <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, and I will speak ma<strong>in</strong>ly about<br />
Brooklyn though I will <strong>in</strong>clude later some observations made <strong>in</strong> Manhattan about<br />
different aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>.<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is, with its airports and harbour, <strong>the</strong> most important po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong><br />
entrance <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>: 15 per cent <strong>of</strong> all immigrants <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> enter <strong>the</strong> country<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> (<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> Department <strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g 1996: xi). However,
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 9<br />
<strong>the</strong> composition <strong>of</strong> migrant groups has changed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last decades, as has <strong>the</strong> ethnic<br />
composition <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. In former times Italians topped <strong>the</strong> list <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> largest<br />
immigrant groups <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>er statistics; s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1970s Dom<strong>in</strong>icans have been at<br />
<strong>the</strong> top <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> local list (though Mexicans are ahead <strong>in</strong> national statistics). Emigrants<br />
arrive <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> from o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands too. In sum, 33 per cent <strong>of</strong> all<br />
immigrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1990s have been from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> (though <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> national statistics<br />
immigrants from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> amount to only 12 per cent; <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> Department<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g 1996: 7), and most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m f<strong>in</strong>d a place to live <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn. 2<br />
The change is a result <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Immigration and Nationality Act (1965), which<br />
reconsidered <strong>the</strong> quota for immigration visas (Kraly 1987: 41ff.). The <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>in</strong><br />
particular, with its high number <strong>of</strong> small but <strong>in</strong>dependent countries, ga<strong>in</strong>ed from <strong>the</strong><br />
new Act. Before 1965, <strong>the</strong> immigrants were overwhelm<strong>in</strong>gly European and male, <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
without any tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g. After 1965, <strong>the</strong> majority arrived from new countries, especially<br />
from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, Lat<strong>in</strong> America and Asia, consist<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> more women and a higher<br />
percentage <strong>of</strong> educated and tra<strong>in</strong>ed people than before (Foner 1987: 2–3). However,<br />
we have to consider that <strong>the</strong>se statistics only refer to people gett<strong>in</strong>g immigration visas,<br />
exclud<strong>in</strong>g, for <strong>in</strong>stance, people arriv<strong>in</strong>g with tourist or student visas as well as Puerto<br />
Ricans who are US citizens and do not count as immigrants.<br />
Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong>re are important characteristics <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
community that we can learn about from <strong>the</strong> statistics. One relates <strong>in</strong>directly to <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>s, referr<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> changed racial composition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> population<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>: because <strong>the</strong> number <strong>of</strong> people belong<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> group <strong>of</strong> non-<br />
Hispanic Whites fell from 63 per cent <strong>in</strong> 1970 to 35 per cent <strong>in</strong> 2000 (<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
Department <strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g 1996: 3), 3 <strong>Caribbean</strong> people who are generally counted<br />
as Black or Hispanic already belong to <strong>the</strong> majority <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Ano<strong>the</strong>r aspect<br />
refers to <strong>the</strong> place <strong>of</strong> birth: <strong>the</strong> majority <strong>of</strong> people <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> community <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> were born outside <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, which <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>the</strong> stratification <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> which becomes (aga<strong>in</strong>) a city <strong>of</strong> immigrants. In 1990 30 per cent<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>habitants <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> were born outside <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, and this statistical<br />
tendency is <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g. 4 The only group that represents a different development is <strong>the</strong><br />
group <strong>of</strong> Puerto Ricans. In 1990 <strong>the</strong> majority <strong>of</strong> Puerto Ricans <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> were born<br />
<strong>in</strong> one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> US states and not on <strong>the</strong> island as before (Department <strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g<br />
1994: 21). Ano<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se statistics refers to <strong>the</strong> next generation:<br />
every second child <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants is born <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, and <strong>the</strong>refore has US<br />
2 While <strong>the</strong> first groups <strong>of</strong> immigrants from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> settled <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> neighbourhood<br />
<strong>of</strong> African-Americans <strong>in</strong> Harlem and Bedford-Stuyvesant, s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1970s <strong>the</strong>y have looked<br />
to Crown Heights, East Flatbush and Flatbush for a place to live, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> Brooklyn<br />
(Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 55).<br />
3 Accord<strong>in</strong>g to ano<strong>the</strong>r statistic <strong>the</strong>se numbers had already been reached. Before 1965<br />
non-Hispanic Whites accounted for 73.1 per cent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> population <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, <strong>in</strong> 1980 <strong>the</strong><br />
figure was only 25.7 per cent; meanwhile <strong>the</strong> number <strong>of</strong> non-Hispanic Blacks <strong>in</strong>creased from<br />
8.4 per cent before 1965 to 23.4 per cent <strong>in</strong> 1980, while <strong>the</strong> group <strong>of</strong> Asians <strong>in</strong>creased from<br />
4.3 per cent to 22.7 per cent and <strong>the</strong> group <strong>of</strong> Hispanics from 13.9 per cent to 27.4 per cent<br />
(see Bogen 1987: 40).<br />
4 For <strong>in</strong>stance, 82 per cent <strong>of</strong> people with Jamaican descent and 88 per cent <strong>of</strong> people<br />
with Tr<strong>in</strong>idadian descent were born outside <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s (Youssef 1992: 6, 62).
10<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
citizenship (Bogen 1987: 6; exclud<strong>in</strong>g Puerto Ricans). This number is particularly<br />
important because it <strong>in</strong>dicates that <strong>the</strong> second generation is relatively highly socialized<br />
and part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, a po<strong>in</strong>t which is <strong>of</strong>ten ignored. <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> exists.<br />
Methodological Frame<br />
The ethnographic sett<strong>in</strong>g leads me to <strong>the</strong> methodological framework <strong>of</strong> my research.<br />
Though I write about <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants <strong>in</strong> an urban area my work is not a typical<br />
contribution to migration studies or to urban studies. I do not discuss, for <strong>in</strong>stance, pulland-push<br />
factors lead<strong>in</strong>g to migration, nor do I present a community study <strong>in</strong> an urban<br />
context. I ignore most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> typical elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se studies and focus <strong>in</strong>stead on <strong>the</strong><br />
urban area as liv<strong>in</strong>g space for migrants. I argue that migration is much too complex<br />
to be <strong>in</strong>vestigated from one perspective only. An <strong>in</strong>vestigation about <strong>the</strong> reasons for<br />
migration says noth<strong>in</strong>g about <strong>the</strong> lives <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants; an ethnographic description <strong>of</strong><br />
a migrant community says noth<strong>in</strong>g about <strong>the</strong>ir home; a study about social problems<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants says noth<strong>in</strong>g about <strong>the</strong>ir culture. There are, <strong>of</strong> course, already some<br />
excellent studies about <strong>Caribbean</strong> immigrants focus<strong>in</strong>g on important aspects such as<br />
language (for example <strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> Spanish, or Kreyòl), social conflicts (for example<br />
racism) or performative aspects (for example carnival or music). 5 Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong>y<br />
<strong>of</strong>ten fail <strong>in</strong> present<strong>in</strong>g migration as a collective process <strong>of</strong> multiple factors. Migration<br />
is not a ‘tidy’ story; it is not possible to structure and present migration consistently<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same way as o<strong>the</strong>r cultural <strong>in</strong>stitutions, even if scholars would like to do it (see<br />
Welz 1996: 223–30). Hence my research focuses on <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> change. Instead <strong>of</strong><br />
study<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> complex <strong>Caribbean</strong> migration and constru<strong>in</strong>g artificial structures, I will<br />
describe <strong>the</strong> diverse phenomenon <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. My focus will be on <strong>the</strong><br />
religious communities <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants and <strong>the</strong> way <strong>the</strong>y <strong>in</strong>teract with members<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> group as well as with outsiders. Though I will <strong>in</strong>clude data about orig<strong>in</strong>s, history<br />
and religious content, I will ma<strong>in</strong>ly demonstrate that liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> 6 follows<br />
its own rules and cannot be expla<strong>in</strong>ed by static structures. Hence I will not present<br />
a community study <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> or a community at all.<br />
Though most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> participants <strong>of</strong> my study live <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, <strong>the</strong>y do not constitute<br />
a community because <strong>the</strong>y live <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city, but because <strong>the</strong>y practise<br />
<strong>the</strong> same religion and attend ceremonies <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> same religious community. Religion<br />
is one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most important aspects that enables <strong>the</strong> re-arrangement <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>stitutions<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> (see Kremser 1992: 51). While Kremser po<strong>in</strong>ts to <strong>the</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>uity <strong>of</strong><br />
religious cultures <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> African <strong>Diaspora</strong>, my aim is not <strong>the</strong> presentation <strong>of</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>uity<br />
5 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Allen and Wilcken 1998 and McAlister 2002 about music; Kas<strong>in</strong>itz<br />
1995 about carnival and racism; Henze 2000 about code-switch<strong>in</strong>g; Buchanan 1980 about<br />
Kreyòl; and Welz 1991 and Bourgois 1997 about social problems.<br />
6 I use <strong>the</strong> term <strong>Diaspora</strong> accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> cultural diasporas <strong>of</strong>fered by Rob<strong>in</strong><br />
Cohen <strong>in</strong> his book Global <strong>Diaspora</strong>s (1997), though I extend it by <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants. Hence <strong>the</strong> term ‘<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong>’ characterizes <strong>in</strong> my book people from<br />
all <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands and <strong>the</strong>ir descendants, whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y speak French, Spanish or English. For<br />
practical reasons I excluded one group from my fieldwork – Asian <strong>Caribbean</strong>s – though <strong>the</strong>y are<br />
also part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> diasporas.
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 11<br />
or <strong>of</strong> a structural system. 7 After describ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> religious communities I will leave <strong>the</strong><br />
ethnographic level and move on to <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical debate. In do<strong>in</strong>g so, I follow Ulf<br />
Hannerz <strong>in</strong> us<strong>in</strong>g research <strong>in</strong> an urban area to <strong>in</strong>spire cultural-<strong>the</strong>oretical debate.<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>’s Urban Culture<br />
The cornerstone for my portrayal <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> as liv<strong>in</strong>g space for migrants from <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> is Werner Schiffauer’s concept <strong>of</strong> urban culture which he elaborates <strong>in</strong> a<br />
small collection <strong>of</strong> essays based ma<strong>in</strong>ly on his <strong>in</strong>vestigations <strong>in</strong> Berl<strong>in</strong> and Turkey. He<br />
describes <strong>the</strong> dynamic, fluid culture <strong>of</strong> a metropolis <strong>in</strong> a particular way. Search<strong>in</strong>g for <strong>the</strong><br />
social logic beh<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong> vibrancy <strong>of</strong> urban culture and <strong>the</strong> factors <strong>in</strong>fluenc<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> cultural<br />
current, creat<strong>in</strong>g complex fluid patterns, he turns to Explor<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>City</strong> by Ulf Hannerz<br />
(1980) and La Dist<strong>in</strong>ction: Critique social de jugement by Pierre Bourdieu (1979,<br />
English translation 1984). Though Hannerz focuses on communication modes and<br />
Bourdieu on social stratification and power structures <strong>in</strong> urban areas, Schiffauer regards<br />
<strong>the</strong> two ideas as complementary. Toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y describe – accord<strong>in</strong>g to Schiffauer’s<br />
<strong>in</strong>terpretation – a complex process: Hannerz <strong>the</strong> horizontal movements and <strong>the</strong> whirls<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>teraction and Bourdieu <strong>the</strong> vertical movements <strong>of</strong> hierarchy creation. Though this<br />
process does not only exist <strong>in</strong> urban areas, it develops more easily when <strong>the</strong> environment<br />
is larger, more complex and more anonymous. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Schiffauer <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong><br />
a metropolis is <strong>the</strong>refore a radically well-timed culture, a culture where everyth<strong>in</strong>g is<br />
fluid and where any <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>in</strong> fluency creates opposite currents, whirls, variations and<br />
even turbulences (Schiffauer 1997: 99). This process does not take place <strong>in</strong> an empty<br />
environment but relates to people connected to a social area and divided <strong>in</strong>to social<br />
groups. In his characterization <strong>of</strong> urban culture Schiffauer refers to three aspects: <strong>the</strong><br />
mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>terurban network<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> division <strong>of</strong> labour and <strong>the</strong><br />
conception <strong>of</strong> urban law and order. Schiffauer argues that <strong>the</strong> third aspect <strong>in</strong> particular<br />
characterizes different cities. While French cities, for <strong>in</strong>stance, locate problematic<br />
zones <strong>in</strong> suburban areas, British cities associate <strong>the</strong>se areas with <strong>the</strong> city centre. While<br />
European cities developed <strong>in</strong> a circular, organic process and are structured accord<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
class division, American cities are constructed on <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> a grid which <strong>in</strong>corporates<br />
<strong>the</strong> vision <strong>of</strong> controll<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> natural and social environment. Schiffauer <strong>in</strong>terprets this<br />
grid as a Calv<strong>in</strong>istic counter-concept to <strong>the</strong> (European) circle and connects it to a high<br />
degree <strong>of</strong> mobility where a citizen prefers to move to a new location <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>vest<strong>in</strong>g<br />
time and power <strong>in</strong> chang<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> old one (Schiffauer 1997: 116–18).<br />
This system describes <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, too, though I have observed a higher degree<br />
<strong>of</strong> identification with <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> than with any o<strong>the</strong>r city. Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> ethnic<br />
stratification <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> is always chang<strong>in</strong>g. Neighbourhoods occupied by Puerto<br />
Ricans dur<strong>in</strong>g my first visit to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>in</strong> 1991 are now dom<strong>in</strong>ated by Mexicans,<br />
who <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir turn replaced Dom<strong>in</strong>icans. But, as will be expla<strong>in</strong>ed later, <strong>the</strong> sense <strong>of</strong><br />
belong<strong>in</strong>g to a religious community lives on.<br />
The urban culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is characterized by two different but <strong>in</strong>terconnected<br />
systems. On <strong>the</strong> one hand <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> is – <strong>in</strong> Schiffauer’s view quite similar to Berl<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong><br />
7 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> crack house as structural system presented by Bourgois (1997).
12<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
this respect – boundless (place-less), without reference to its surround<strong>in</strong>gs. In particular,<br />
Manhattan, <strong>the</strong> central part <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, lacks a sense <strong>of</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r parts<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city. Its neighbour Brooklyn already represents ano<strong>the</strong>r town, ‘on <strong>the</strong> moon’ for<br />
people liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Manhattan. Several people compla<strong>in</strong>ed to me about hav<strong>in</strong>g to move to<br />
Brooklyn, which to <strong>the</strong>m is only worse than leav<strong>in</strong>g <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> altoge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> order<br />
to move to <strong>New</strong> Jersey. For people liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir town is someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
special. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> is not <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> United States but <strong>the</strong> exception, <strong>the</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g<br />
space for dropouts, marg<strong>in</strong>alized groups and alternative movements.<br />
On <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is also a symbol <strong>of</strong> mobility. Social upris<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
acculturation and f<strong>in</strong>al <strong>in</strong>tegration are <strong>of</strong>ten connected to a change <strong>of</strong> residence; migrants,<br />
for <strong>in</strong>stance, move to Long Island or even upstate as soon as <strong>the</strong>y become successful.<br />
This double system even <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>the</strong> traffic system as one can see by look<strong>in</strong>g at<br />
a subway map. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> has one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> world’s best public transport systems;<br />
mobility is possible without a private car. In <strong>the</strong> centre is Manhattan, almost completely<br />
without any park<strong>in</strong>g space for private cars. Most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> subway l<strong>in</strong>es lead through<br />
Manhattan; hence it is nearly impossible to move from one part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city to ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
without go<strong>in</strong>g first to Manhattan, even though Queens and Brooklyn are on <strong>the</strong> same<br />
side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> river. And <strong>in</strong> some areas, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> suburbs, people have to buy<br />
a private car. Some communities even organize a local transport system (with small<br />
buses) <strong>in</strong> order to reach <strong>the</strong> public transport system <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city. In sum, this (sometimes<br />
quite chaotic) <strong>in</strong>teraction <strong>of</strong> two contradictory systems – one <strong>in</strong>clusive and <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
exclusive – characterizes <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> system <strong>of</strong> two opposite<br />
movements creates tension, which <strong>in</strong>creased after <strong>the</strong> election <strong>of</strong> Rudolph Giuliani <strong>in</strong><br />
1992. His zero-tolerance policy appeased <strong>the</strong> demand for more security but ignored <strong>the</strong><br />
need for prevention, <strong>in</strong>vestigation and <strong>the</strong> social <strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong>fenders. As a result<br />
prisons are predom<strong>in</strong>antly filled with non-White people, African-Americans, Lat<strong>in</strong>os<br />
and <strong>Caribbean</strong> Americans – and nearly noth<strong>in</strong>g was done to prevent it. When he left<br />
<strong>of</strong>fice, non-European immigrants were viewed as threats ra<strong>the</strong>r than as enrich<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
diversity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city. The paradise <strong>of</strong> migrants became a safe paradise for tourists but<br />
<strong>the</strong> economic success that ensued did not affect most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants.<br />
However, to describe <strong>the</strong> urban culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> one needs to look<br />
beyond its structure. Schiffauer lists three characteristics <strong>of</strong> urban culture: an<br />
<strong>in</strong>ternal heterogeneity, openness towards <strong>the</strong> outside and <strong>the</strong> phenomenon <strong>of</strong> what<br />
he calls critical masses (Schiffauer 1997: 128–9). Hence one should <strong>in</strong>vestigate<br />
heterogeneity with<strong>in</strong> an urban culture, <strong>the</strong> means through which groups <strong>in</strong>tegrate<br />
and exclude cultural elements, and <strong>the</strong> framework with<strong>in</strong> which subcultures emerge.<br />
Based on <strong>the</strong>se characteristics Schiffauer discusses <strong>the</strong> dist<strong>in</strong>ction between European<br />
and Turkish cities, while I will use <strong>the</strong>m to characterize <strong>the</strong> urban culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Schiffauer dist<strong>in</strong>guishes, for <strong>in</strong>stance, between urban culture performed <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> public sphere <strong>in</strong> European cities and <strong>the</strong> urban culture po<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>side, <strong>the</strong><br />
private part <strong>of</strong> society, <strong>in</strong> Turkish cities (Schiffauer 1997: 134ff.). . In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
one can observe how both types exist at <strong>the</strong> same time. Public parks are, for <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
very important for all <strong>in</strong>habitants <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Central Park <strong>in</strong> Manhattan and<br />
Prospect Park <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn are arenas for sport, social and cultural events, social<br />
meet<strong>in</strong>gs and so on. And even streets and squares are used for cultural events, sport<br />
and o<strong>the</strong>r activities, beyond any ethnic, social, age and gender barriers.
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 13<br />
Apart from <strong>the</strong>se public stages <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong>re is also a private dimension<br />
<strong>of</strong> public social life. Access to this is granted only to those who are <strong>in</strong>vited, to relatives<br />
or friends <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> host. In particular religious communities observe <strong>the</strong> strict rule <strong>of</strong><br />
‘controlled o<strong>the</strong>rness’, but o<strong>the</strong>r groups also follow this rule. Whoever behaves badly<br />
or prefers <strong>in</strong>dividuality and freedom to community and bond is excluded from this<br />
k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> urban culture. This observation seems to be <strong>in</strong> opposition to <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> as a symbol <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividualism. However, <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is more than a city for <strong>the</strong><br />
marg<strong>in</strong>alized. A characteristic <strong>of</strong> many if not all migrant communities is <strong>the</strong> high number<br />
<strong>of</strong> social activities, <strong>of</strong> social and cultural groups and organizations. Some <strong>in</strong>stitutions<br />
are identical to those <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> home country, o<strong>the</strong>r are founded <strong>in</strong> particular for migrants <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong>. As a consequence, leisure time activities rema<strong>in</strong> ethnically divided.<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> I: Carnival<br />
At this po<strong>in</strong>t I will turn to <strong>the</strong> most strik<strong>in</strong>g public performance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
community directed to <strong>the</strong> outside world: <strong>the</strong> West Indian American Day Carnival <strong>in</strong><br />
Brooklyn. Similar to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> London and Toronto, <strong>the</strong> Labor Day<br />
Parade <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn is based on <strong>the</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idadian version <strong>of</strong> carnival which has led<br />
to <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> a pan-<strong>Caribbean</strong> identity, with <strong>the</strong> exception <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spanishspeak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong>. For this reason <strong>the</strong> carnival cannot be seen as representative<br />
<strong>of</strong> all <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants, as Anglophone migrants rema<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant part.<br />
Never<strong>the</strong>less, it has <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> immigrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> (<strong>the</strong>ir public image, that is), and cont<strong>in</strong>ues to do so today.<br />
The first <strong>Caribbean</strong> festivals were celebrated <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1920s,<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> first major phase <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> immigration. Though <strong>the</strong> first migrants<br />
from <strong>the</strong> West Indies arrived <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> shortly after <strong>the</strong> abolishment <strong>of</strong> slavery,<br />
immigration <strong>in</strong>creased at <strong>the</strong> turn <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> century: <strong>in</strong> 1899 only 832 migrants lived <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, <strong>in</strong> 1924 this number had already grown to 12,243 (Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 24).<br />
The relatively large number <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> immigrants arriv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
first decades <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century <strong>in</strong>tegrated with African-Americans <strong>in</strong> an almost<br />
problem-free manner, settl<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir neighbourhoods, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>in</strong> Harlem where<br />
<strong>the</strong> first carnival festivals were celebrated (celebrations took place <strong>in</strong>doors due to<br />
<strong>the</strong> wea<strong>the</strong>r conditions; Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 140). Because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> outstand<strong>in</strong>g economic<br />
success <strong>of</strong> migrants <strong>in</strong> this first phase, people <strong>of</strong>ten stereotypically consider migrants<br />
from <strong>the</strong> West Indies as very good at bus<strong>in</strong>ess.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> second phase <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> immigration (from <strong>the</strong> depression until <strong>the</strong><br />
change <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> immigration act <strong>in</strong> 1965), only a few migrants from <strong>the</strong> Anglophone<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> arrived <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. They were predom<strong>in</strong>ately educated middle-class<br />
people, speak<strong>in</strong>g better English than o<strong>the</strong>r immigrants. Like o<strong>the</strong>r migrant groups<br />
(see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Figure 2.1) <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants organized an ethnic parade to<br />
celebrate <strong>the</strong>ir identity, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants a carnival parade. The<br />
first one took place on Labor Day <strong>in</strong> 1947 <strong>in</strong> Harlem. These <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants<br />
<strong>in</strong>sisted on keep<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir British passports <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> apply<strong>in</strong>g for US citizenship.
14<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Figure 2.1 The Columbus Day Parade (1998)<br />
The start <strong>of</strong> mass migration from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> to <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> after 1965 changed <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> community <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Large <strong>Caribbean</strong> communities developed<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> 1970s and 1980s, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, where <strong>the</strong> carnival parade<br />
has been celebrated dur<strong>in</strong>g Labor Day weekend s<strong>in</strong>ce 1969. Affirmative Action<br />
programmes at public schools and <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong> effort <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>City</strong> University <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> – which founded its own college for <strong>the</strong> economically weaker population <strong>in</strong><br />
every district – supported higher education for migrants. Hence, work opportunities<br />
for migrants dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> third phase <strong>in</strong>creased, especially <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> service <strong>in</strong>dustry<br />
(Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 93ff.). . Brooklyn College <strong>in</strong> Flatbush is particularly important for<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> community, not only to Anglophones but also to <strong>the</strong> Hispano-phone<br />
migrants. Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> latter have not participated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival<br />
from <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g. Kas<strong>in</strong>itz’s study demonstrates that <strong>the</strong> Labor Day Parade is not<br />
a typical ethnic parade, which would normally be celebrated <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> on<br />
Fifth Avenue. The attempt to move <strong>the</strong> parade to Manhattan failed at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s. Kas<strong>in</strong>itz expla<strong>in</strong>s this by compar<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> carnival with o<strong>the</strong>r ethnic<br />
parades <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> such as <strong>the</strong> Puerto Rican Parade or <strong>the</strong> St Patrick’s Day<br />
Parade, which are events based on military metaphors and leadership. ‘The dramatic<br />
structure <strong>of</strong> [such] celebrations … serves to <strong>in</strong>terweave <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terests <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> group<br />
with <strong>the</strong> careers <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual politicians.’ He fur<strong>the</strong>r argues that ‘<strong>the</strong> Parade presents<br />
<strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> a unified people march<strong>in</strong>g beh<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong>ir leaders’ (Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 147).<br />
The carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn is totally different. Remco van Capelleveen even describes<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival as a big chaos (1993: 139). With more than 3.5 million<br />
spectators (<strong>in</strong> 1999) arriv<strong>in</strong>g from all over <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> and Canada, <strong>the</strong> carnival parade<br />
is <strong>the</strong> largest ga<strong>the</strong>r<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants <strong>in</strong> North America (<strong>the</strong> audience is<br />
predom<strong>in</strong>ately <strong>Caribbean</strong>).
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 15<br />
Figure 2.2 A typical crowd at <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn (1999)<br />
Like o<strong>the</strong>r ethnic parades <strong>the</strong> carnival parade is led by <strong>the</strong> elected beauty queen <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> parade toge<strong>the</strong>r with political representatives and, <strong>in</strong> election years, by candidates<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> political parties. Despite <strong>the</strong>ir popularity <strong>the</strong> audience rema<strong>in</strong>s quiet until <strong>the</strong><br />
arrival <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> first music groups. They mark <strong>the</strong> real start <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival. Until <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
arrival <strong>the</strong> spectators stand and chat with each o<strong>the</strong>r and eat <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> delicacies<br />
that can be bought at several stalls nearby but pay little attention to <strong>the</strong> parade. When<br />
<strong>the</strong> music starts, <strong>the</strong> audience beg<strong>in</strong>s danc<strong>in</strong>g. The parade <strong>of</strong>ten has to stop because<br />
spectators break through <strong>the</strong> barricades and dance round <strong>the</strong> music trucks (see Figure<br />
2.2). When <strong>the</strong> parade reaches <strong>the</strong> VIP lounge host<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> judges <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> competition at<br />
<strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Eastern Parkway, <strong>the</strong> march has already had several breaks. Some trucks<br />
never even reach <strong>the</strong> end but get lost toge<strong>the</strong>r with danc<strong>in</strong>g spectators <strong>in</strong> some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> side<br />
streets. The music (nowadays usually recorded music) delights everyone <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> audience<br />
regardless <strong>of</strong> social, ethnic, age and gender barriers. The grandmo<strong>the</strong>r dances with her<br />
grandchildren and cheers <strong>the</strong> DJs whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y play calypso, reggae or <strong>the</strong> latest chart<br />
music. Apart from <strong>the</strong> music <strong>the</strong> spectators discuss <strong>the</strong> colourful costumes and cheer<br />
loudly. They recognize every detail <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> costumes and criticize, for <strong>in</strong>stance, someone<br />
hav<strong>in</strong>g problems with his or her costume <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> w<strong>in</strong>d (see Figure 2.3).<br />
Most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> trucks are sponsored by large companies and some distribute<br />
presents to <strong>the</strong> spectators, from sweets to cups, t-shirts and even CDs. The push<strong>in</strong>g<br />
and shov<strong>in</strong>g is <strong>in</strong>credible. The parade lasts for hours and ends with several parties,<br />
outside and <strong>in</strong>side. In addition to <strong>the</strong> parade <strong>the</strong> West Indian American Day Carnival<br />
<strong>in</strong>cludes several o<strong>the</strong>r events, for <strong>in</strong>stance competitions for <strong>the</strong> best costume, <strong>the</strong> best<br />
performance and <strong>the</strong> best music, as well as a children’s carnival parade (Figure 2.4),<br />
but <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> event is <strong>the</strong> parade on Labor Day.
16<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Figure 2.3<br />
Struggl<strong>in</strong>g with <strong>the</strong> w<strong>in</strong>d at <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
(1999)<br />
There is a certa<strong>in</strong> degree <strong>of</strong> order <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> course <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> parade, but <strong>in</strong> practice this<br />
order breaks nearly immediately (see Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 147). But, while Kas<strong>in</strong>itz <strong>in</strong>terprets<br />
<strong>the</strong> carnival positively, van Cappelleveen’s description implies a negative impression<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival. He notes, for <strong>in</strong>stance, an enormous police presence creat<strong>in</strong>g an<br />
explosive tension which can engender a non-ritualistic, anarchic, rebellious mood (van<br />
Cappelleveen 1993: 141). His impression is probably <strong>in</strong>fluenced by <strong>the</strong> social unrest<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s, and I do not share his <strong>in</strong>terpretation. In 1999 I observed a very joyful<br />
crowd, not rebellious at all though <strong>the</strong> situation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s had repercussions on <strong>the</strong><br />
carnival and fostered negative stereotypes. Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> harsh <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong><br />
van Cappelleveen is a surprise. Look<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> Barbados, Josep R. Llobera<br />
argues that <strong>the</strong> researcher dur<strong>in</strong>g fieldwork sometimes reacts <strong>in</strong> an emotionally negative<br />
way without consciously know<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> reasons for this reaction. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> 1970s two<br />
images <strong>of</strong> African-Americans conspicuously circulated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> US media: <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> an<br />
obedient servant and <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> a violent aggressor. While reason can control emotion<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g a superficial <strong>in</strong>teraction, div<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a crowd as large as <strong>the</strong> carnival spectators can<br />
rouse stereotypes and fears dat<strong>in</strong>g back to childhood (Llobera 1990: 66–76).<br />
Today, <strong>the</strong> carnival is not rebellious; on <strong>the</strong> contrary, it contributes to <strong>the</strong><br />
establishment <strong>of</strong> a pan-<strong>Caribbean</strong> identity. At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g migrants from Tr<strong>in</strong>idad<br />
and Tobago – who are not even <strong>the</strong> largest group from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> but <strong>the</strong> one<br />
with a long carnival tradition – dom<strong>in</strong>ated <strong>the</strong> carnival organization. 8 Toge<strong>the</strong>r with<br />
migrants from Grenada, <strong>the</strong>y still control <strong>the</strong> West Indian American Day Carnival<br />
Association (WIADCA) as well as music groups and costume production (Kas<strong>in</strong>itz<br />
8 See Wüst 1991 on <strong>the</strong> social mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad.
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 17<br />
1995: 150). Though migrants from Jamaica represent <strong>the</strong> fastest-grow<strong>in</strong>g migrant<br />
group from <strong>the</strong> Anglophone <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, <strong>the</strong>y are still under-represented at<br />
<strong>the</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Kas<strong>in</strong>itz this is because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> different<br />
music style – though I observed several Jamaican reggae groups dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> parade <strong>in</strong><br />
1999. 9 Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>in</strong> spite <strong>of</strong> all <strong>the</strong> arguments between Jamaicans and Tr<strong>in</strong>idadians,<br />
both groups identify with <strong>the</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Even <strong>the</strong> Haitian community<br />
manages to use <strong>the</strong> carnival as a forum to present its problems to a wider audience.<br />
In 1998, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Haitian participants made <strong>the</strong> brutal mistreatment <strong>of</strong> a Haitian<br />
migrant <strong>in</strong> a police station <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn a topic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival parade. 10 On <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
hand, Tr<strong>in</strong>idadians reacted <strong>in</strong> an <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly negative fashion to <strong>the</strong> possibility <strong>of</strong><br />
open<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> carnival to o<strong>the</strong>r groups (though I was told that <strong>the</strong>ir exclusive attitude<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>Caribbean</strong> groups has changed recently), and <strong>in</strong> particular towards <strong>the</strong><br />
commercialization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> parade. The result was <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>troduction <strong>of</strong> j’ouvert, ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> tradition. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1980s this has been a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> counter-event <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> early<br />
morn<strong>in</strong>g before <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> parade (j’ouvert is derived from <strong>the</strong> French ‘jour ouvert’,<br />
welcome <strong>the</strong> day; traditionally it is celebrated as <strong>the</strong> farewell <strong>of</strong> carnival at dawn on<br />
<strong>the</strong> last day <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival, not <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> middle, before <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> event). In contrast to<br />
Figure 2.4 The Children’s Carnival Parade <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn (1999)<br />
9 Abner Cohen describes <strong>in</strong> his studies <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> London a separation<br />
between calypso and reggae, though he does not expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> division with ethnic stratification<br />
but with different generations <strong>of</strong> migrants (1980, 1982).<br />
10 Paper by Karen McCarthy Brown <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> American Museum <strong>of</strong> Natural History 15<br />
October 1998. See also Brown 1995.
18<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Figure 2.5 J’ouvert <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn (1999)<br />
<strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> parade, only steel bands are allowed to play dur<strong>in</strong>g j’ouvert. The participants<br />
do not wear colourful costumes, and <strong>the</strong> spectators are not separated by barriers from<br />
<strong>the</strong> musicians (see Figure 2.5). The organizers try to br<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>er carnival<br />
back to its orig<strong>in</strong>al Tr<strong>in</strong>idadian features. Hence, <strong>the</strong>y seem to overlook <strong>the</strong> fact<br />
that <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants are not only from Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago, but from various<br />
islands. Even though j’ouvert is also traditionally celebrated <strong>in</strong> Haiti, <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>er<br />
organizers <strong>in</strong>sist on its Tr<strong>in</strong>idad/Tobago roots and prevent o<strong>the</strong>r music groups from<br />
participat<strong>in</strong>g, not because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> quality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir performance but because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
nationality – as I was told by <strong>the</strong> manager <strong>of</strong> a well-known Haitian band <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> (though this aga<strong>in</strong> has changed: <strong>in</strong> 2004 a Haitian group was allowed for <strong>the</strong><br />
first time to perform at j’ouvert). Despite <strong>the</strong> exclusive attitude <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> organizers,<br />
many Haitians go to <strong>the</strong> morn<strong>in</strong>g event and participate as it is also <strong>the</strong> custom <strong>in</strong><br />
Haiti. Someth<strong>in</strong>g that is prohibited by <strong>the</strong> organizers is cheered by <strong>the</strong> participants.<br />
In sum, one can argue that despite all divisions and tensions <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival is <strong>in</strong>deed <strong>the</strong> performance <strong>of</strong> a pan-<strong>Caribbean</strong> culture.<br />
At this po<strong>in</strong>t I will turn back to Schiffauer’s remarks about urban culture. Because<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival can be characterized as a nearly ‘headless’ event that ends<br />
<strong>in</strong> a chaotic party, people tend to ignore <strong>the</strong> structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> community<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, and hence <strong>the</strong> dynamics <strong>of</strong> subgroups. But, on <strong>the</strong> contrary, <strong>the</strong><br />
non-existence <strong>of</strong> a leadership does not imply anarchy. While <strong>the</strong> public impression<br />
is one <strong>of</strong> chaos, <strong>the</strong>re is strong control <strong>in</strong>side <strong>the</strong> carnival though it does not become<br />
visible to <strong>the</strong> public. One example will serve to demonstrate this: <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g<br />
politicization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival which is one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> aspects discussed by Kas<strong>in</strong>itz<br />
<strong>in</strong> his studies on <strong>the</strong> carnival. He argues with reference to <strong>the</strong> political fight <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
1980s that <strong>the</strong> central function <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival was at that time <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> a<br />
borderl<strong>in</strong>e between <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> community and <strong>the</strong> African-Americans. In 1984<br />
Jesse Jackson participated for <strong>the</strong> first time <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival parade <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, but
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 19<br />
despite his popularity it was not a success. He was accused <strong>of</strong> neglect<strong>in</strong>g several<br />
conventions and <strong>of</strong> snubb<strong>in</strong>g his audience. Kas<strong>in</strong>itz cites a journalist’s reaction:<br />
It was an abortion. I mean here was Jackson speak<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> largest crowd he had ever<br />
addressed, and if ever <strong>the</strong>y wanted an opportunity to do someth<strong>in</strong>g for black unity, this<br />
was it. Instead <strong>the</strong>y <strong>in</strong>sulted people … If <strong>the</strong>y wanted to demonstrate unity, Ra<strong>in</strong>bow<br />
Coalition or whatever, he would have had a <strong>Caribbean</strong> person <strong>in</strong>troduce him, he would<br />
have a sense <strong>of</strong> recognition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community … I mean, Jesse goes to Moscow, he is<br />
briefed, right? He knows who he is go<strong>in</strong>g to speak to and what to speak about! But with us<br />
no one saw <strong>the</strong> need to brief him at all … It was a real <strong>in</strong>sult. (Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 155)<br />
Ano<strong>the</strong>r politician, <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>’s Mayor Edward Koch, participated at <strong>the</strong> carnival<br />
<strong>in</strong> 1985 but with a different strategy. In order to ga<strong>in</strong> support for his re-election he<br />
made an effort to court all <strong>the</strong> leaders <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> community. The result was<br />
his re-election. A Haitian priest’s reply to <strong>the</strong> question <strong>of</strong> why he had supported<br />
Koch <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> African-American candidate was <strong>the</strong> simple phrase ‘he asked us’<br />
(Kas<strong>in</strong>itz 1995: 233). Koch managed to b<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong> diverse <strong>Caribbean</strong> leaders toge<strong>the</strong>r,<br />
while Jackson presented himself as leader without tak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> leaders <strong>in</strong>to<br />
consideration. The follow<strong>in</strong>g time, when Jackson needed support for his national<br />
campaign, he acted more carefully and (though <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end he was unsuccessful) he<br />
ga<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> votes <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> community. Hence, despite <strong>the</strong> public appearance<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival which is openly structured and can <strong>in</strong>tegrate new elements,<br />
<strong>the</strong> private spheres contribute largely to <strong>the</strong> urban culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>.<br />
Ethnoscénologie as <strong>in</strong>terpretative method<br />
Cultural events such as carnival <strong>of</strong>ten do not fit <strong>in</strong>to categories. In his study about<br />
hybrid cultures Néstor García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i exam<strong>in</strong>es similar manifestations which<br />
cannot be described as ‘popular’ or ‘cultural’ because <strong>the</strong>y represent a mixture <strong>of</strong><br />
both (1990: 263–4). But how can we <strong>in</strong>terpret <strong>the</strong>se ‘bulky’ events? Or how can we<br />
<strong>in</strong>terpret religious and cultural mixtures which cont<strong>in</strong>uously develop and change?<br />
In order to expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> cultures <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> I will now<br />
turn to o<strong>the</strong>r aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> urban culture which are perhaps not as visible as <strong>the</strong><br />
carnival, but are none<strong>the</strong>less important for <strong>the</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community. One<br />
can f<strong>in</strong>d performances <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> cultural centres, <strong>in</strong> museums, on stage,<br />
<strong>in</strong> dance schools as well as <strong>in</strong> music workshops. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> urban culture is nowadays<br />
highly <strong>in</strong>fluenced by <strong>Caribbean</strong> music and dance styles as I will demonstrate with<br />
reference to migrants from <strong>the</strong> French (Kreyòl) and Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>Caribbean</strong>.<br />
Similar to my presentation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> (Anglophone) <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival my focus will<br />
not be on cultural centres <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> immigrant groups but on public performances <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> public arena and on <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> relationship between participants<br />
and spectators. The events which I will present have a connection to <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
religions whose belief system and communities I will present <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> next chapter.<br />
While <strong>the</strong> performative events are part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> public sphere <strong>of</strong> religions as well as<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture, <strong>the</strong> descriptions <strong>of</strong> religious communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> next chapter<br />
represent <strong>the</strong> private sphere <strong>of</strong> urban <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture. As already mentioned,
20<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> urban culture <strong>in</strong>cludes both a private, controlled place and an open,<br />
free one – and both are <strong>in</strong>tertw<strong>in</strong>ed. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> cultural events<br />
presents a methodological problem. While I will portray <strong>the</strong> religious communities<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> anthropology <strong>of</strong> religion, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> cultural events as an<br />
exhibition or a performance on stage is unusual <strong>in</strong> anthropology <strong>of</strong> religion. Hence,<br />
I had to look for a different perspective <strong>in</strong> order to <strong>in</strong>clude this important aspect <strong>of</strong><br />
urban <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>.<br />
Performances are, <strong>of</strong> course, part <strong>of</strong> anthropological research. Most scholars who<br />
study such events refer to Richard Bauman, who def<strong>in</strong>es performance as a mode<br />
<strong>of</strong> communication (1986: 3). 11 As I did not want to limit my research to cultural<br />
events such as <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival parade, while I was liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
and participat<strong>in</strong>g as much as possible <strong>in</strong> urban <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> I realized that I<br />
needed a broader frame for my research without resort<strong>in</strong>g to an ethnocentric concept<br />
<strong>of</strong> ‘<strong>the</strong>atre’. The collaboration <strong>of</strong>, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Richard Schechner and Eugenio<br />
Barba with anthropologists such as Victor Turner opened <strong>the</strong> way for understand<strong>in</strong>g<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r cultures and <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>the</strong>atrical performances, but also limited such understand<strong>in</strong>g<br />
(Mandressi 1996: 91–3). Visit<strong>in</strong>g exhibitions and participat<strong>in</strong>g at dance and drum<br />
workshops allowed me valuable <strong>in</strong>sights <strong>in</strong>to <strong>Caribbean</strong> urban culture, but <strong>the</strong>se<br />
events are not performances accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> European def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>atre.<br />
Christopher Balme draw my attention <strong>the</strong>n to <strong>the</strong> French school <strong>of</strong> ethnoscénologie<br />
which – similar to <strong>the</strong> North American school <strong>of</strong> performance studies – was born<br />
out <strong>of</strong> collaboration between anthropologists and <strong>the</strong>atre scholars with people <strong>of</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>r discipl<strong>in</strong>es (Balme 1998: 34–6). 12 But unlike <strong>the</strong> North American school<br />
ethnoscénologie is concerned with all body movements, whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y are connected<br />
to <strong>the</strong>atre, ritual or dance. In his def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> spectaculaire (perform<strong>in</strong>g), which is at<br />
<strong>the</strong> core <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> new field <strong>of</strong> ethnoscénologie, Jean-Marie Pradier <strong>in</strong>sists<br />
1) that one should not reduce it only to visual items; 2) that it does not only refer to ensembles<br />
<strong>of</strong> modalities <strong>of</strong> human perspective; 3) that it embraces all different human manifestations,<br />
<strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g somatic, physical, cognitive, emotional, and spiritual dimensions.<br />
[1) ne se réduit pas au visuel; 2) se réfère à l’ensemble des modalités perceptives<br />
humanes; 3) souligne l’aspect global des manifestations émergentes huma<strong>in</strong>es, <strong>in</strong>cluant<br />
les dimensions somatiques, physiques, cognitives, émotionnelles et spirituelles.]<br />
(1996: 17, my translation)<br />
Pradier’s def<strong>in</strong>ition allows me <strong>the</strong>refore to <strong>in</strong>clude my observations <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> American<br />
Museum <strong>of</strong> Natural History or at workshops organized by <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural<br />
Center <strong>in</strong> my <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> urban <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture. Ra<strong>the</strong>r than limit<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
research to <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> Western forms <strong>of</strong> enterta<strong>in</strong>ment such as carnival and o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
11 ‘Performance thus calls forth special attention to and heightened awareness <strong>of</strong> both <strong>the</strong><br />
act <strong>of</strong> expression and <strong>the</strong> performer. Viewed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>se terms, performance may be understood as<br />
<strong>the</strong> enactment <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> poetic function, <strong>the</strong> essence <strong>of</strong> spoken artistry. Accord<strong>in</strong>gly, performance<br />
may be dom<strong>in</strong>ant <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> hierarchy <strong>of</strong> multiple functions served by speech … or it may be<br />
subord<strong>in</strong>ate to o<strong>the</strong>r functions – referential, rhetorical, or any o<strong>the</strong>r’ (Bauman 1986: 3).<br />
12 The foundation <strong>of</strong> ethnoscénologie was <strong>the</strong> publication <strong>of</strong> a symposium where scholars<br />
from various discipl<strong>in</strong>es discussed <strong>the</strong>ir approach (Maison des Cultures du Monde 1996).
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 21<br />
parades, Pradier argues for <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> dance movements, art, street dance, rituals,<br />
shamanism, ceremonies, music and so on (1996: 37). Hence, even spirit manifestations<br />
can become part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> research, though scholars <strong>in</strong> ethnoscénologie have different<br />
op<strong>in</strong>ions when it comes to <strong>the</strong> question <strong>of</strong> ‘au<strong>the</strong>nticity’. Gilbert Rouget, for <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
dist<strong>in</strong>guishes between different degrees <strong>of</strong> trance and regards <strong>the</strong> spirit manifestation<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Afro-Brazilian Candomblé as m<strong>in</strong>or <strong>in</strong> comparison to <strong>the</strong> Yoruba spirit<br />
manifestations <strong>in</strong> Nigeria, Ben<strong>in</strong> and Togo because he disqualifies <strong>the</strong> Brazilian form<br />
as mixed (hence, impure) and as a tourist attraction (1996: 52–3). In contrast Arm<strong>in</strong>do<br />
Bião <strong>in</strong>sists on <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>of</strong> Candomblé and trance as central cultural elements<br />
<strong>in</strong> Salvador da Bahia (1996: 149–51). He argues that ethnoscénologie arises out <strong>of</strong> a<br />
critique <strong>of</strong> ethnocentrism by European <strong>in</strong>tellectuals, and hence is a confrontation to<br />
ongo<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>tercultural conflicts (Bião 1996: 145). Ethnoscénologie should <strong>the</strong>refore<br />
distance its research from <strong>the</strong> European idea <strong>of</strong> enterta<strong>in</strong>ment and consider all forms<br />
<strong>of</strong> performance. Follow<strong>in</strong>g this argument I <strong>in</strong>clude performances <strong>in</strong> my presentation <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> public sphere <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> without dist<strong>in</strong>guish<strong>in</strong>g between ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntic’<br />
and ‘tourist’ events because this dist<strong>in</strong>ction is to be made only by <strong>the</strong> performers<br />
and not by <strong>the</strong> scholar. An <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> relationship between performer and<br />
spectator grants us <strong>in</strong> every case a valuable <strong>in</strong>sight <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>siders’ view. 13<br />
In sum, <strong>the</strong> aim <strong>of</strong> ethnoscénologie is to look at activities which are usually<br />
ignored by anthropologists but could <strong>of</strong>fer new <strong>in</strong>sights <strong>in</strong>to a culture. Central to<br />
<strong>the</strong> method is <strong>the</strong> observation <strong>of</strong> behaviours <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir cultural context. 14 Based on<br />
<strong>the</strong> French school I argue that an <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> behaviours <strong>in</strong> daily situations,<br />
ord<strong>in</strong>ary ones without self-evident relevance, extracts <strong>in</strong>formation about cultural<br />
mean<strong>in</strong>g. Even ‘unimportant’ actions can be regarded as ‘comments’ on <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant<br />
culture or as political self-manifestations. 15 I want to demonstrate with <strong>the</strong> selection<br />
<strong>of</strong> events that <strong>the</strong>y are a good source <strong>of</strong> non-verbal <strong>in</strong>formation. Body language<br />
<strong>in</strong>forms us about a hidden attitude similar to <strong>in</strong>formation obta<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> an <strong>in</strong>terview.<br />
The problems are that it is difficult to record, and we cannot quote <strong>in</strong>formation based<br />
on an attitude expressed through body language <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same way as we can quote<br />
<strong>in</strong>formation given <strong>in</strong> an <strong>in</strong>terview. Never<strong>the</strong>less body language can carry important<br />
<strong>in</strong>formation that is o<strong>the</strong>rwise difficult to get. It is possible to hide one’s op<strong>in</strong>ion <strong>in</strong><br />
an <strong>in</strong>terview but <strong>of</strong>ten impossible <strong>in</strong> body language. We should <strong>the</strong>refore observe<br />
physical reactions and movements dur<strong>in</strong>g an <strong>in</strong>terview as well as dur<strong>in</strong>g an observed<br />
situation. In any case, all k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>formation have to be contextualized dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
13 See also <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> various performances <strong>of</strong> Berber music <strong>in</strong> Morocco by<br />
Philip D. Schuyler 1984.<br />
14 Ethnoscénologie has <strong>the</strong>refore more <strong>in</strong> common with cultural studies which draw our<br />
attention to parades, competitions and sport activities <strong>in</strong> North American cities, than with <strong>the</strong><br />
anthropology <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>atre <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> tradition <strong>of</strong> Richard Schechner, for example. Frank E. Mann<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
a representative <strong>of</strong> cultural studies, def<strong>in</strong>es celebration, for <strong>in</strong>stance, as ‘a vivid aes<strong>the</strong>tic<br />
creation that reflexively depicts, <strong>in</strong>terprets and <strong>in</strong>forms its social context’ (1983: 4). His edited<br />
collection demonstrates quite clearly that Mann<strong>in</strong>g and <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r contributors <strong>in</strong>vestigate<br />
similar phenomena to Pradier and his colleagues. Look, for <strong>in</strong>stance, at Mann<strong>in</strong>g’s description<br />
<strong>of</strong> celebrations which starts with ‘First, celebration is performance; it is, or entails, <strong>the</strong> dramatic<br />
presentation <strong>of</strong> cultural symbols’ (1983: 4).<br />
15 See Fuchs and Berg 1995: 47, with reference to Geertz 1993b.
22<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation process. This aspect is central particularly for <strong>the</strong> debate about<br />
au<strong>the</strong>nticity, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> trance and spirit manifestations, which I will<br />
approach <strong>in</strong> a different way. Instead <strong>of</strong> decid<strong>in</strong>g whe<strong>the</strong>r some th<strong>in</strong>gs are au<strong>the</strong>ntic<br />
or not, I will <strong>in</strong>terpret <strong>the</strong>m as self-representations.<br />
Self-representations are always ambiguous; <strong>the</strong>y make sense only when <strong>the</strong>y can<br />
evoke a certa<strong>in</strong> reaction from <strong>the</strong> spectators. Successful self-representations manage to<br />
produce a polyphony <strong>of</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>gs through creative means; repetition would <strong>in</strong>troduce<br />
stylization, typification and <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end formalization (see Reizakis 2002). In performative<br />
representation actors negotiate <strong>the</strong>ir identity with <strong>the</strong> community, though <strong>the</strong> community<br />
can always deny its support. Hence, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> relationship between<br />
spectators and performers allows us valuable <strong>in</strong>sights <strong>in</strong>to <strong>Caribbean</strong> urban culture. The<br />
study <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> participation <strong>of</strong> spectators supports, for <strong>in</strong>stance, an understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
cultural mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a performance (see Wade 1984: 16). By observ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> relationship<br />
between spectators and performers one can <strong>of</strong>ten notice cultural misunderstand<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
which enables a scholar to understand <strong>the</strong> cultural mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a performance. Every<br />
performance is culturally and community bound; hence, scholars such as Béhague <strong>in</strong>sist<br />
that <strong>in</strong> order to assess a performance one should f<strong>in</strong>d first <strong>the</strong> emic concepts (hence, <strong>the</strong><br />
native perspective) and secondly refer to etic categories (<strong>the</strong> external view) (Béhague<br />
1984a: 5, with reference to Bauman 1977). 16<br />
Apart from ga<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g valuable <strong>in</strong>sights about <strong>Caribbean</strong> urban culture, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se events relates to <strong>the</strong> possibility <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g my own perspective. My former<br />
research, <strong>in</strong> particular my research about spirit manifestations <strong>in</strong> Puerto Rico, drew<br />
my attention to <strong>the</strong> difficulties <strong>of</strong> handl<strong>in</strong>g religious phenomena such as trance, spirit<br />
possession and re<strong>in</strong>carnation. Because <strong>the</strong>y have no traditional place <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> European<br />
imag<strong>in</strong>ation, <strong>in</strong>terpretation is <strong>of</strong>ten difficult, if not impossible. How can I <strong>in</strong>terpret<br />
someth<strong>in</strong>g I have not observed nor shared? While I describe <strong>the</strong> phenomenon as<br />
I have seen it and <strong>in</strong>clude my own perspective, like a drama critic, I avoid any<br />
decision about truth or au<strong>the</strong>nticity but never<strong>the</strong>less <strong>in</strong>clude <strong>the</strong> emic perspective.<br />
Understand<strong>in</strong>g implies a process <strong>of</strong> creative and <strong>in</strong>ter-subjective observation,<br />
while it helps to <strong>in</strong>clude my own experiences as well as new approaches such as<br />
ethnoscénologie. Instead <strong>of</strong> struggl<strong>in</strong>g with my fasc<strong>in</strong>ation for <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions,<br />
I allowed <strong>the</strong>m to overwhelm me. Understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions leads me to<br />
an understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> world. In a similar way to Vernon Boggs (1989),<br />
who describes how Afro-Hispanic music has opened up for him an approach to<br />
cultural mixtures, I have found that my fasc<strong>in</strong>ation for <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions is my<br />
own way <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> creativity <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and cultural mixtures. As Jensen<br />
wrote, academic knowledge arises from a creative act itself; one has to become<br />
overwhelmed (ergriffen) to create someth<strong>in</strong>g new, even academic understand<strong>in</strong>g<br />
(1992: 23). Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> my own impressions should not lead to a<br />
mere self-centred account. This book is not about me but about <strong>Caribbean</strong> people<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation can start from my observations,<br />
my experience <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> Shango and Erzulie whose mean<strong>in</strong>g arises where<br />
questionnaires and <strong>in</strong>terviews end.<br />
16 The categories emic and etic refer to a dist<strong>in</strong>ction co<strong>in</strong>ed by Kenneth Pike analogous<br />
to <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>guistic terms ‘phonemic’ and ‘phonetic’ (1954: 8–28); see also McCutcheon 1999.
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 23<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> II: On Stage and <strong>in</strong> Exhibition<br />
The cultural events that I will describe <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g pages took place <strong>in</strong><br />
Manhattan. Though most <strong>Caribbean</strong> people live <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r parts <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>,<br />
predom<strong>in</strong>ately <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> public performances <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> urban<br />
culture are celebrated <strong>in</strong> Manhattan where <strong>the</strong>y reach a much larger audience. These<br />
public events are directed, as already mentioned, to <strong>the</strong> outside world, hence to<br />
non-<strong>Caribbean</strong> people.<br />
Apart from be<strong>in</strong>g a symbol for <strong>the</strong> fasc<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, Manhattan is also<br />
<strong>the</strong> perfect meet<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t for different cultural and social groups that like to present<br />
<strong>the</strong>mselves to <strong>the</strong>mselves and to o<strong>the</strong>rs <strong>in</strong> Manhattan. Every social group can f<strong>in</strong>d a<br />
certa<strong>in</strong> space <strong>in</strong> Manhattan and can benefit from it (see Raul<strong>in</strong> 1997: 11). The <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
community is not <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant group <strong>in</strong> this part <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>; <strong>Caribbean</strong>s are<br />
nearly <strong>in</strong>visible <strong>in</strong> public, especially <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> political arena. Ano<strong>the</strong>r characteristic<br />
<strong>of</strong> Manhattan is <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuality and <strong>the</strong> strong sense <strong>of</strong> dépersonnalisation<br />
(Raul<strong>in</strong> 1997: 13) that stands <strong>in</strong> remarkable contrast to <strong>the</strong> collective foundation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
religious communities <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants.<br />
An Exhibition: Sacred Arts <strong>of</strong> Haitian Vodou On 10 October 1998, <strong>the</strong> American<br />
Museum <strong>of</strong> Natural History hosted an unusual exhibition, just two floors above <strong>the</strong><br />
collection <strong>of</strong> artefacts from <strong>the</strong> Northwest Coast collected by Franz Boas nearly a<br />
century ago. The exhibition ‘Sacred Arts <strong>of</strong> Haitian Vodou’ was organized by <strong>the</strong> Fowler<br />
Museum <strong>of</strong> Cultural History (Cosent<strong>in</strong>o 1995) at <strong>the</strong> University <strong>of</strong> California <strong>in</strong> Los<br />
Angeles <strong>in</strong> 1995 and s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong>n has been displayed <strong>in</strong> several cities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. The<br />
aim was to present a little known aspect <strong>of</strong> Haitian culture, Vodou. Most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> objects,<br />
particularly <strong>the</strong> collection <strong>of</strong> Haitian art, belong to <strong>the</strong> Fowler Museum.<br />
As shown by García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i with reference to <strong>the</strong> Museo Nacional de<br />
Antropología <strong>in</strong> Mexico <strong>City</strong>, a museum can be regarded as sign as well as constructor<br />
<strong>of</strong> signs, depend<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> material culture, because objects are both<br />
products <strong>of</strong> a specific culture and material sources from which to learn someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
about this culture (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 117–32; see also Feest 1993: 143).<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, one should not ignore <strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> a variety <strong>of</strong> semantic layers as<br />
well as <strong>the</strong>ir flexibility. A museum <strong>of</strong>ten presents its collection as representative <strong>of</strong><br />
a specific culture by contextualiz<strong>in</strong>g its objects without expla<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> visitors<br />
that a collection projects only a distorted image <strong>of</strong> reality, not reality itself. Visitors<br />
are unaware that an exhibition presents only one possible presentation <strong>of</strong> a culture<br />
and not its polyphonic layers. The Museo Nacional de Antropología, for <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
shows <strong>in</strong> its exhibition <strong>the</strong> politically dom<strong>in</strong>ant <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> national history<br />
and contemporary cultures, <strong>the</strong> staff focus <strong>the</strong>refore on present<strong>in</strong>g only <strong>the</strong> part<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultures that are regarded as important for national society – <strong>of</strong>ten without<br />
<strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g representatives <strong>of</strong> ethnic m<strong>in</strong>orities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> process. Ano<strong>the</strong>r problem is<br />
that exhibitions and museums tend to present objects as unchangeable witnesses <strong>of</strong><br />
a culture, ignor<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> transformation <strong>of</strong> such a culture. The two ma<strong>in</strong> limitations <strong>of</strong><br />
museum exhibitions are <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>the</strong> ethnocentric representation <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r cultures<br />
and <strong>the</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> cultures as static.
24<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, I will not discuss <strong>the</strong> various levels <strong>of</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> material culture that<br />
are presented <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> exhibition but <strong>the</strong> visitors’ <strong>in</strong>terpretations <strong>of</strong> and reactions to it.<br />
The exhibition ‘Sacred Arts <strong>of</strong> Haitian Vodou’ welcomed its visitors with <strong>the</strong>se<br />
words: ‘Vodou is Haiti’s mirror. Its arts and rituals reflect <strong>the</strong> difficult, brilliant history<br />
<strong>of</strong> seven million people, whose ancestors were brought from Africa to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>in</strong><br />
bondage’ (Room 1). This text illustrates <strong>the</strong> concept underly<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> exhibition. Start<strong>in</strong>g<br />
with several pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>gs as an <strong>in</strong>troduction to Haitian history, <strong>the</strong> exhibition presented<br />
<strong>the</strong> multiple features <strong>of</strong> Vodou, <strong>the</strong> Haitian religion derived from African traditions,<br />
elements <strong>of</strong> Indigenous belief and its European aspects such as Catholicism and<br />
freemasonry. Certa<strong>in</strong> aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion were presented <strong>in</strong> colourful ensembles,<br />
<strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong> impressive altars <strong>of</strong> various ‘nations <strong>of</strong> lwa’ (categories <strong>of</strong> Haitian<br />
spirits) <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> exhibition attracted much attention, as well as <strong>the</strong> colourful<br />
Vodou flags and <strong>the</strong> examples <strong>of</strong> Haitian art at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> exhibition.<br />
Two sections <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> exhibition that impressed me <strong>in</strong> particular aroused different<br />
reactions from <strong>the</strong> visitors. Go<strong>in</strong>g from <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>troduction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> exhibition to <strong>the</strong> room<br />
with <strong>the</strong> presentation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> spirits <strong>the</strong> visitors had to pass through a small tunnel <strong>of</strong><br />
mirrors which surprised but did not overwhelm <strong>the</strong>m. When I asked one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> guides<br />
about <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> it, I was told that <strong>the</strong> visitors should dive <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> world <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
spirits; by go<strong>in</strong>g slowly through <strong>the</strong> tunnel <strong>the</strong> visitor should feel <strong>the</strong> cool atmosphere<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> world under water and <strong>the</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g warmth <strong>of</strong> rebirth. I was <strong>the</strong> only person<br />
who asked. The majority just passed without any reaction to <strong>the</strong> next room.<br />
The last room, however, aroused stronger reactions. The exhibition ended with a<br />
(reconstructed) Vodou temple from Port-au-Pr<strong>in</strong>ce, <strong>the</strong> walls <strong>of</strong> which reflected a video<br />
record<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a Vodou ceremony. While <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r rooms presented written <strong>in</strong>formation<br />
and visual effects, this room addressed o<strong>the</strong>r senses with <strong>the</strong> loud music and songs;<br />
<strong>the</strong> dim lights, and even smells, as well as <strong>the</strong> film suggested <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> colourful<br />
people. Some visitors sat on small stools typical <strong>of</strong> a Vodou temple; o<strong>the</strong>rs went to <strong>the</strong><br />
small stall and asked <strong>the</strong> guides to expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> paraphernalia.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g my various visits I got <strong>the</strong> impression <strong>of</strong> enter<strong>in</strong>g a different world, certa<strong>in</strong>ly<br />
not a traditional museum <strong>of</strong> natural history. The extraord<strong>in</strong>ary large audience was too<br />
much for <strong>the</strong> employees <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> museum, who were used to d<strong>in</strong>osaurs and stuffed<br />
animals. Not only Haitians came to visit <strong>the</strong> exhibition but also people <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong><br />
Haitian music and dance and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>in</strong> general. The American Museum <strong>of</strong><br />
Natural History organized a diverse support<strong>in</strong>g programme with performances by<br />
Haitian groups such as <strong>the</strong> famous Jean-Léone Dest<strong>in</strong>é and his Afro Haitian Dance<br />
Company and o<strong>the</strong>r events. The open<strong>in</strong>g even <strong>in</strong>cluded a ceremony for <strong>the</strong> well-be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> exhibition. When Mama Lola, <strong>the</strong> most famous priestess liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn,<br />
decl<strong>in</strong>ed, <strong>the</strong> organizers discussed <strong>in</strong>vit<strong>in</strong>g someone from Haiti to come to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> to perform <strong>the</strong> bless<strong>in</strong>g; <strong>the</strong>y ignored <strong>the</strong> fact that <strong>the</strong>re are several Vodou priests<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> boroughs. Scholars, especially those work<strong>in</strong>g among Haitian immigrants<br />
and Vodou, voiced <strong>the</strong>ir criticism; <strong>the</strong>y regarded <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>vitation <strong>of</strong> a Haitian priest<br />
from outside <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> as an exclusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> large community <strong>of</strong> Haitians <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>: ‘As if only Mama Lola was famous and important enough to be <strong>in</strong>vited<br />
by <strong>the</strong> Museum.’ The ma<strong>in</strong> target <strong>of</strong> this debate, <strong>the</strong> Haitian vodouisants (Vodou<br />
practitioners), ignored <strong>the</strong> discussion and made jokes about it. They just laughed<br />
and regarded it as typical <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>er attitude. They know <strong>the</strong>mselves that Haitians
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 25<br />
liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> practise Vodou as ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntically’ as <strong>in</strong> Haiti, although <strong>the</strong>y<br />
dist<strong>in</strong>guish between life <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> and <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> metropolis. Only non-Haitian<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>ers are unaware <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> Haitians <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir own city. In <strong>the</strong> end,<br />
ano<strong>the</strong>r priestess liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> performed <strong>the</strong> ceremony.<br />
Mama Lola came one week later toge<strong>the</strong>r with Karen McCarthy Brown, whose<br />
research made <strong>the</strong> priestess famous. Brown started her research on Vodou at <strong>the</strong> end<br />
<strong>of</strong> 1970s and presented <strong>the</strong> first results <strong>in</strong> 1979. Dur<strong>in</strong>g this <strong>in</strong>vestigation she met<br />
<strong>the</strong> Vodou priestess for <strong>the</strong> first time and she later gave her <strong>the</strong> fictitious name <strong>of</strong><br />
Mama Lola. Brown, a European American with a Protestant background, developed<br />
an <strong>in</strong>tense relationship with Mama Lola over time, which became almost a mo<strong>the</strong>r–<br />
daughter relationship. Brown published (and still publishes) several articles <strong>in</strong> academic<br />
journals and books about Vodou (with special reference to Mama Lola), <strong>in</strong> 1991 she<br />
even published a portrayal <strong>of</strong> Mama Lola <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> form <strong>of</strong> an academic monograph.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> exhibition she gave a lecture on Vodou which was announced <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
leaflet as ‘Mama Lola, a Vodou priestess who ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong>s her temple <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn,<br />
and Karen Brown, Pr<strong>of</strong>essor <strong>of</strong> Sociology and Anthropology <strong>of</strong> Religion, Drew<br />
University’. Hence <strong>the</strong> aspiration for <strong>the</strong> even<strong>in</strong>g was set: <strong>the</strong> majority <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> visitors<br />
came (and paid <strong>the</strong> additional entrance fee) to see Mama Lola. The <strong>the</strong>atre <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
museum was absolutely crowded. Brown’s excellent lecture about ‘Ties that B<strong>in</strong>d:<br />
Race, Memory, and Historical Consciousness <strong>in</strong> Vodou and Beyond’ <strong>in</strong>terested only<br />
a small part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> audience.<br />
Brown spoke about her journey with Mama Lola and her daughter to a Vodou<br />
festival <strong>in</strong> Ben<strong>in</strong> where Mama Lola was guest <strong>of</strong> honour. Brown discussed <strong>the</strong><br />
experiences <strong>in</strong> Ben<strong>in</strong> with reference to <strong>the</strong> Vodou concept <strong>of</strong> memory, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong><br />
memory <strong>of</strong> slavery, and presented fasc<strong>in</strong>at<strong>in</strong>g ideas and <strong>in</strong>spirations throughout her<br />
paper. None<strong>the</strong>less, I will not discuss her lecture but <strong>the</strong> reaction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> audience.<br />
The <strong>the</strong>atre was occupied by people from different ethnic backgrounds wait<strong>in</strong>g<br />
patiently for <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lecture. When Brown entered <strong>the</strong> stage, a White<br />
middle-aged woman with blond hair, it became obvious that she would not be <strong>the</strong><br />
ma<strong>in</strong> attraction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> even<strong>in</strong>g. Never<strong>the</strong>less, she was <strong>the</strong> speaker. At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>of</strong> her talk Brown announced <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> Mama Lola among <strong>the</strong> audience and<br />
expla<strong>in</strong>ed her relationship with her: Mama Lola was <strong>the</strong> teacher and Brown <strong>the</strong><br />
student. Brown’s short presentation was followed by questions from <strong>the</strong> audience.<br />
Though some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> questions were related to issues discussed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> paper, most <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>m were for Mama Lola. Hence Brown asked her to jo<strong>in</strong> her on stage, and later<br />
she was jo<strong>in</strong>ed by some <strong>of</strong> her children. The discussion focused on <strong>the</strong> exotic side<br />
<strong>of</strong> Vodou. People asked about zombies, Vodou dolls and black magic (<strong>the</strong> dangerous<br />
aspects <strong>of</strong> Vodou). At <strong>the</strong> end some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Haitians <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> audience thanked Mama<br />
Lola for her contribution to <strong>the</strong> establishment <strong>of</strong> Vodou as an important religion. The<br />
even<strong>in</strong>g ended as an event with Mama Lola.<br />
While <strong>the</strong> exhibition was runn<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, I participated <strong>in</strong> several<br />
events and noticed <strong>in</strong> particular a great <strong>in</strong>terest <strong>in</strong> Vodou among non-<strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
spectators. However, such <strong>in</strong>terest was flawed by a number <strong>of</strong> misconceptions about<br />
Vodou and Haiti. Such mis<strong>in</strong>formation persisted despite <strong>the</strong> large attendance at <strong>the</strong><br />
Vodou exhibition.
26<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
In addition to <strong>the</strong> activities organized by <strong>the</strong> Exhibition Board, <strong>the</strong> Margaret Mead<br />
Film & Video Festival which is regularly organized <strong>in</strong> collaboration with <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
University also focused on Haitian culture and religion <strong>in</strong> 1998. The programme<br />
<strong>in</strong>cluded, for <strong>in</strong>stance, a classical ethnographic documentary by Melville Herskovits<br />
from <strong>the</strong> 1930s, <strong>the</strong> legendary film Div<strong>in</strong>e Horsemen by Maya Deren and Cherel<br />
Ito (first publicly presented <strong>in</strong> 1977), two documentaries about Vodou <strong>in</strong> Haiti by<br />
Elsie Haas and <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> by Karen Kramer (from <strong>the</strong> 1980s), and an overview<br />
<strong>of</strong> productions by <strong>the</strong> Haitian filmmaker and former M<strong>in</strong>ister Raoul Peck. The film<br />
Div<strong>in</strong>e Horsemen – announced as an avant-garde film – attracted <strong>the</strong> largest number <strong>of</strong><br />
spectators, perhaps because it presented <strong>the</strong> dimension <strong>of</strong> religious praxis ra<strong>the</strong>r than<br />
that <strong>of</strong> daily life (Herskovits). The fasc<strong>in</strong>ation for <strong>the</strong> exotic representation <strong>of</strong> Vodou<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>ued dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> exhibition; it was not possible to refer <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terest to<br />
<strong>the</strong> ord<strong>in</strong>ary aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion (presented, for <strong>in</strong>stance, by Haas and Kramer).<br />
Ano<strong>the</strong>r aspect that was reflected by <strong>the</strong> exhibition programme tells us more about<br />
<strong>the</strong> attitude <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> organizers than that <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> spectators. The ma<strong>in</strong> focus <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> organizers<br />
was <strong>the</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> Haitian Vodou (<strong>in</strong> Haiti), not Vodou <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. The Vodou<br />
communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> were largely ignored though <strong>the</strong>y, too, represent Haitian<br />
Vodou. Even <strong>the</strong> programme leaflet made this attitude visible. While it conta<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
<strong>in</strong>formation about all <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> events dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> exhibition – lecture series, educational<br />
panels and performances – <strong>the</strong> performances <strong>of</strong> a <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> Vodou band organized by<br />
<strong>the</strong> museum’s Education Board <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Exhibition Board was left out. I got <strong>the</strong><br />
impression that it was easier for <strong>the</strong> organizers to present a foreign worldview outside <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
own neighbourhood than one at home, <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Hence, <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>al aim <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
exhibition, <strong>the</strong> approach to Vodou as a normal religion and <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>in</strong> understand<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
failed. The exhibition did not contextualize Vodou flags as religious objects but as art.<br />
The programme organized by <strong>the</strong> Exhibition Board as well as by <strong>the</strong> Education Board <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> museum accentuated <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic side <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture, particularly music and<br />
dance performances. The museum became <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> arena for cultural mixture. On <strong>the</strong> one<br />
hand, it granted access to <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture to non-<strong>Caribbean</strong> people and, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r,<br />
it allowed people <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture to experience its different sides without<br />
develop<strong>in</strong>g a sense <strong>of</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g to a community. Gloria D., an African-American high<br />
school teacher, whom I first met at a dance workshop organized by <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural<br />
Center <strong>in</strong> Manhattan, 17 also attended one lecture where she told me about her various trips<br />
<strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> world <strong>of</strong> African-American religions, some even to Cuba and Tr<strong>in</strong>idad.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> exhibition <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> attitude towards <strong>the</strong> Haitian community<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> which is associated with <strong>the</strong>se exotic (and wrong) aspects. The open<br />
discussion about zombies and Vodou dolls and <strong>the</strong> presentation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion <strong>in</strong> such<br />
an important museum improved <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> Haiti, hence <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> Haitians <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Even <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> Times published an article about Vodou, though <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> section House & Home. Vodou had become part <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> folklore.<br />
Music and Dance as Cultural Expressions The <strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural Center (CCC)<br />
<strong>in</strong> Manhattan is a small Puerto Rican non-pr<strong>of</strong>it <strong>in</strong>stitution founded by Marta<br />
17 The workshop taught dance movements connected to Cuban orichas (gods <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Cuban religion Santería).
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 27<br />
M. Vega <strong>in</strong> 1976. Its aim is to present ‘<strong>the</strong> best <strong>of</strong> African world culture <strong>in</strong><br />
excit<strong>in</strong>g, enterta<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g and enrich<strong>in</strong>g programs’ and to ‘Celebrate <strong>the</strong> vibrant<br />
culture and rich creative and spiritual expressions <strong>of</strong> people <strong>of</strong> African descent<br />
worldwide – from Brooklyn to Bahia, Haiti to Harlem, Ben<strong>in</strong> to Brita<strong>in</strong>, <strong>New</strong><br />
Orleans to Nigeria – through The Frankl<strong>in</strong> H. Williams <strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural Center<br />
African <strong>Diaspora</strong> Institute’ (CCC leaflet). Vega, a Puerto Rican woman who grew up<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, argues that ‘an African-based aes<strong>the</strong>tic … could serve as a unify<strong>in</strong>g<br />
l<strong>in</strong>k for Africans <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong>’ (CCC leaflet). Hence she devotes her academic<br />
publications and her non-academic work to promot<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic side <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
culture. The CCC organizes talks, exhibitions, concerts and workshops to <strong>in</strong>form people<br />
about <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture. The <strong>in</strong>tended audience are people <strong>of</strong> African descent, though<br />
<strong>the</strong> majority <strong>of</strong> visitors are Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g people, <strong>in</strong> particular Puerto Ricans,<br />
Cubans and Dom<strong>in</strong>icans (as demonstrated by <strong>the</strong> fact that most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir events are <strong>in</strong><br />
Spanish – though <strong>the</strong> bookshop <strong>of</strong>fers publications both <strong>in</strong> Spanish and <strong>in</strong> English).<br />
The centre displays religious paraphernalia (much more expensive than <strong>in</strong> a<br />
botánica), 18 art objects and jewellery. Sometimes, <strong>the</strong> centre organizes <strong>in</strong>ternational<br />
conferences with <strong>in</strong>vited participants from various <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands, Brazil and<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r Lat<strong>in</strong> American countries, sometimes even from Africa. Vega, who became<br />
president <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre, treats visitors with non-African background a bit reluctantly<br />
though o<strong>the</strong>r members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre are more open to outsiders. 19<br />
The workshops organized by <strong>the</strong> centre – as well as by o<strong>the</strong>r dance schools<br />
<strong>in</strong> Manhattan – are <strong>of</strong>ten taught by Cuban dancers accompanied by <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>er<br />
(Lat<strong>in</strong>o) musicians who also play at religious ceremonies at weekends. Sometimes<br />
<strong>the</strong>y have to translate <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>structions from Spanish <strong>in</strong>to English. The dance teachers<br />
expla<strong>in</strong> some movements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas toge<strong>the</strong>r with <strong>the</strong> symbolic mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se<br />
movements so that <strong>the</strong> students can understand <strong>the</strong> religious context <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dances –<br />
<strong>the</strong> movements <strong>of</strong> Ogún represent, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> powerful warrior while those <strong>of</strong><br />
Ochún represent <strong>the</strong> seductive goddess <strong>of</strong> love. Participants <strong>in</strong> workshops organized<br />
by ballet schools <strong>of</strong>ten prefer <strong>the</strong> physical movements, ignor<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> symbolic<br />
mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> gestures. Ano<strong>the</strong>r dist<strong>in</strong>ction between <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural Center<br />
and <strong>the</strong> dance schools is <strong>the</strong> gender relation; while <strong>the</strong> CCC workshops attract men<br />
and women, workshops <strong>of</strong> dance schools rarely attract men (see Figure 2.6). 20<br />
One dance workshop reflected a different <strong>in</strong>tention. The Department <strong>of</strong> Puerto<br />
Rican and Lat<strong>in</strong>o Studies <strong>of</strong> Brooklyn College <strong>of</strong>fered students a small workshop <strong>in</strong><br />
connection with a class <strong>in</strong> Afro-<strong>Caribbean</strong> religions entitled ‘Santos en Salsa’. The<br />
workshop focused on <strong>the</strong> symbolic mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> dance movements rang<strong>in</strong>g from <strong>the</strong><br />
orichas to Lat<strong>in</strong> American rhythms such as salsa. The teacher, Marta S. – a pr<strong>of</strong>essional<br />
and very talented Puerto Rican dancer – was able to demonstrate <strong>the</strong> choreographic<br />
<strong>in</strong>teraction between religious movements and pr<strong>of</strong>ane music style. The <strong>in</strong>teraction<br />
18 A special shop for religious objects used <strong>in</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions.<br />
19 Vega is, <strong>of</strong> course, not alone <strong>in</strong> her behaviour towards people <strong>of</strong> non-African descent.<br />
Rex Nettleford is <strong>the</strong> most prom<strong>in</strong>ent scholar openly express<strong>in</strong>g such an attitude; see for<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance Hyatt and Nettleford 1995.<br />
20 The participants are ma<strong>in</strong>ly (but not exclusively) agedbetween 20 and 50 years old,<br />
with diverse ethnic backgrounds.
28<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Figure 2.6<br />
Participants at a dance school <strong>in</strong> Manhattan<br />
between different orichas <strong>in</strong> pr<strong>of</strong>ane dance movements was also expla<strong>in</strong>ed – <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>teraction between two dancers, for <strong>in</strong>stance, represents <strong>the</strong> story <strong>of</strong> Ochún and Ogún.<br />
In contrast with o<strong>the</strong>r workshops, Marta’s <strong>in</strong>cluded references to Puerto Rican culture.<br />
Hence, her <strong>in</strong>tention was not <strong>the</strong> promotion <strong>of</strong> African aes<strong>the</strong>tics but an understand<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>of</strong> Puerto Rican heritage which, <strong>of</strong> course, <strong>in</strong>cludes African elements.<br />
In sum, all dance workshops differ <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir ethnic and gender stratification<br />
and <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> preparation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> participants concern<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> cultural background<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> movements. There is a close l<strong>in</strong>k between <strong>the</strong> background knowledge <strong>of</strong><br />
workshop participants and <strong>the</strong> relation between performers and spectators at a<br />
drama performance. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Schuyler (1984: 137), lack <strong>of</strong> cultural background<br />
destroys <strong>the</strong> relation which normally develops between a teacher and <strong>the</strong> students<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g a workshop. Even a little or flawed <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> (presumed) cultural<br />
context may constitute a ‘bridge’ between <strong>the</strong> two and facilitate <strong>the</strong> contextualization<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> movements. Even when students <strong>in</strong>itially have no <strong>in</strong>terest <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> symbolic<br />
mean<strong>in</strong>g, after a while <strong>the</strong>y start to observe some conventions such as <strong>the</strong> dress code<br />
for <strong>the</strong> dances <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas. Even a limited <strong>in</strong>terest <strong>in</strong> physical experience can<br />
<strong>the</strong>refore open <strong>the</strong> door to a world <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r experiences.<br />
The same observations can be made with reference to music workshops and drum<br />
classes, such as those <strong>of</strong>fered, for <strong>in</strong>stance, by some colleges at <strong>City</strong> University <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, or those organized by <strong>the</strong> Department <strong>of</strong> Music <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> University.<br />
The teachers are exclusively <strong>Caribbean</strong> drummers, usually pr<strong>of</strong>essional musicians<br />
who are also ritual specialists and perform at ceremonies. Sometimes <strong>the</strong>y <strong>in</strong>vite<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir students to accompany <strong>the</strong>m to religious ceremonies where students <strong>of</strong>ten focus<br />
more on <strong>the</strong> music than on <strong>the</strong> ritual. Depend<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong>ir background it is possible
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 29<br />
to dist<strong>in</strong>guish music students <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same way as dance students. If <strong>the</strong>y have some<br />
previous knowledge about <strong>the</strong> cultural context <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rhythms, <strong>the</strong> relationship with<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir master drummer is likely to become much stronger. This <strong>in</strong> turn affects also<br />
<strong>the</strong> degree <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>volvement <strong>of</strong> students <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir religious communities. While some<br />
are <strong>in</strong>terested only <strong>in</strong> music styles (and jo<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> music group <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir teacher after a<br />
while), o<strong>the</strong>rs start to learn more and more about <strong>the</strong> religious background and some<br />
even convert. The ethnic affiliation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> participants <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> drum workshops were,<br />
as <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> dance workshops, quite diverse. <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants already know<br />
<strong>the</strong> music and do not need to participate at <strong>the</strong>se workshops. Participants were mostly<br />
second generation <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> learn<strong>in</strong>g more about <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
music through <strong>the</strong>se classes. Music classes are crucial to those migrants.<br />
The story with <strong>the</strong> diaspora is that a guy is liv<strong>in</strong>g far from his country, far from all his<br />
habits, his family, his music, his foods, all those th<strong>in</strong>gs that he’s used to. He’s liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a<br />
place where th<strong>in</strong>gs are totally different. The way <strong>of</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g is completely upside down for<br />
him. He’s not used to <strong>the</strong> w<strong>in</strong>ter or liv<strong>in</strong>g like a number. He’s used to a very warm way<br />
<strong>of</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g. He’s com<strong>in</strong>g from a small town where everybody knows everybody, go<strong>in</strong>g to a<br />
subway <strong>in</strong> a big city where nobody knows anybody. That’s very hard for him. That’s why<br />
<strong>the</strong> music <strong>of</strong> groups like Tabou has such an appeal for him. (Averill 1998: 138, quot<strong>in</strong>g<br />
from his <strong>in</strong>terview with Bobby Dennis <strong>in</strong> 1988)<br />
In contrast to this Haitian musician, Toni S., a Puerto Rican drummer who grew up<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, does not search for home through music because his home is <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. The rhythms fasc<strong>in</strong>ate him; he regards <strong>the</strong>m as his roots <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong>o-<strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong>. And <strong>the</strong>y led him to <strong>the</strong> discovery <strong>of</strong> Cuban Santería as part <strong>of</strong> his cultural<br />
identity. He became <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> rhythms as an adolescent liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a Puerto<br />
Rican neighbourhood <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong>n he has wanted to become a<br />
pr<strong>of</strong>essional musician though this was still not possible at <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> my <strong>in</strong>terviews.<br />
He worked dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> day <strong>in</strong> an <strong>of</strong>fice but performed regularly with different groups,<br />
from Lat<strong>in</strong> Jazz <strong>in</strong> some clubs <strong>in</strong> Manhattan, to <strong>Caribbean</strong> rhythms <strong>in</strong> pubs and <strong>in</strong><br />
cultural centres, and ritual music at Santería ceremonies. Be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>itiated <strong>in</strong>to Santería<br />
Toni takes <strong>the</strong> religious commitment very seriously.<br />
John A., a European-American drummer, also became <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> music.<br />
He began to study drums <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> late 1950s. Soon he became <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>n<br />
small Santería communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Although his ma<strong>in</strong> attraction rema<strong>in</strong>s<br />
music and not religion, he became <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly fasc<strong>in</strong>ated with religion to <strong>the</strong> po<strong>in</strong>t<br />
where he took one step after ano<strong>the</strong>r towards <strong>in</strong>itiation <strong>in</strong>to Santería. Despite his<br />
<strong>in</strong>itiation he began to take drum classes with a Haitian drummer and started to<br />
accompany his teacher to Vodou ceremonies <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> late 1970s. He <strong>the</strong>n began to play<br />
at ceremonies and performed on stage where he met his wife, a Haitian dancer. He<br />
has now forty years <strong>of</strong> experience <strong>in</strong> different drum styles. Apart from performances<br />
he teaches drums <strong>in</strong> both <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> and <strong>the</strong> Haitian style because he wants to broaden<br />
<strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> his students. He states that Haitian rhythms are more difficult to<br />
play than Lat<strong>in</strong> rhythms, especially because <strong>the</strong> latter are much more accessible<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. John describes Haitian rhythms as be<strong>in</strong>g full <strong>of</strong> ‘energy’ and<br />
‘power’. Consequently, he participates nowadays only <strong>in</strong> Vodou ceremonies and no<br />
longer <strong>in</strong> Santería ceremonies.
30<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Figure 2.7<br />
Báta<br />
drums <strong>in</strong> Spanish Harlem<br />
Both musicians, John and Toni, demonstrate how music opens a path to <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
religion, for people <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> as well as non-<strong>Caribbean</strong> descent. Workshops and<br />
classes have great significance for <strong>the</strong> expansion <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions but <strong>the</strong>y also<br />
enrich <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>’s cultural scene. However, performances lose <strong>the</strong>ir mean<strong>in</strong>g when <strong>the</strong><br />
gap between performers and spectators is too large, as I observed at <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>auguration<br />
ceremony <strong>of</strong> a small community centre <strong>in</strong> Spanish Harlem. The organizers had hired<br />
Puerto Rican and Cuban musicians to perform a ceremony <strong>in</strong> order to bless <strong>the</strong> new<br />
centre. However, <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> perform<strong>in</strong>g on sacred báta drums <strong>the</strong> musicians came<br />
with large conga drums (see Figure 2.7). The organizers <strong>in</strong>tended that this ceremony<br />
revitalize and celebrate a Puerto Rican-Cuban community <strong>in</strong> this part <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong>. But <strong>the</strong> majority <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> spectators came especially for <strong>the</strong> presentation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g and did not live <strong>in</strong> this part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city. Their reaction to <strong>the</strong> songs <strong>in</strong> honour<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas demonstrated that <strong>the</strong>y had no idea <strong>of</strong> what <strong>the</strong>y had been listen<strong>in</strong>g to.<br />
Only <strong>the</strong> second part, <strong>the</strong> performance <strong>of</strong> son and salsa rhythms, was greeted with<br />
applause, some even jo<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g. It seems that <strong>the</strong> organizers totally ignored<br />
<strong>the</strong> fact that Puerto Ricans and Cubans no longer live <strong>in</strong> this neighbourhood that is<br />
now occupied by Mexicans. And <strong>the</strong>y stayed away from this event. While <strong>the</strong> Museo<br />
del Barrio, a large Puerto Rican museum <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> neighbourhood <strong>of</strong> this centre, has<br />
acknowledged this demographic change and has tried to <strong>in</strong>clude people liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
area <strong>in</strong> its activities, toge<strong>the</strong>r with Puerto Ricans liv<strong>in</strong>g all over <strong>the</strong> city, this centre<br />
presents itself as a Puerto Rican <strong>in</strong>stitution that wants to <strong>of</strong>fer a meet<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t for a<br />
Puerto Rican-Cuban community. However, <strong>the</strong> establishment <strong>of</strong> a community needs
Variations <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Culture(s) <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 31<br />
more than one ceremony. A performance is def<strong>in</strong>ed very generally as a situation with<br />
a performer and a spectator; it only receives symbolic mean<strong>in</strong>g when <strong>the</strong> relationship<br />
between <strong>the</strong> two poles has cultural substance, when <strong>the</strong>re is communication between<br />
<strong>the</strong>m. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>auguration ceremony <strong>the</strong> groups had no common cultural basis,<br />
hence <strong>the</strong>re was no communication. 21<br />
21 See Wade and Schuyler’s notions <strong>of</strong> ‘disturbed relations’ between audience and<br />
performer, <strong>in</strong> Wade 1984: 16, and Schuyler 1984: 137.
This page <strong>in</strong>tentionally left blank
Chapter 3<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
L<strong>in</strong>e 2 <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> subway ends <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> Brooklyn, at <strong>the</strong> junction between<br />
Flatbush Avenue and Nostrand. While dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> week students from Brooklyn<br />
College dom<strong>in</strong>ate <strong>the</strong> street, <strong>the</strong> weekend <strong>of</strong>fers a different impression. The exits <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> subway station lead directly to a site where both avenues meet smaller streets.<br />
Passengers emerg<strong>in</strong>g through <strong>the</strong> exits are welcomed by loud calls from shops and<br />
street sellers, each <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m try<strong>in</strong>g to shout louder than <strong>the</strong>ir neighbour to <strong>of</strong>fer <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
product as <strong>the</strong> best and <strong>the</strong> cheapest.<br />
One group is <strong>the</strong> loudest <strong>of</strong> all. On a small island between <strong>the</strong> two avenues a<br />
number <strong>of</strong> young men preach God’s Word every Saturday. They shout that God is<br />
not only <strong>the</strong>re for <strong>the</strong> wealthy, for <strong>the</strong> Whites; he speaks to <strong>the</strong> Blacks, too, but <strong>in</strong> a<br />
different way. Supported by loud music, <strong>the</strong>y attract a lot <strong>of</strong> attention from people<br />
liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> this area, predom<strong>in</strong>antly migrants from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. In some build<strong>in</strong>gs<br />
it is possible to rent rooms for wedd<strong>in</strong>gs, birthdays and o<strong>the</strong>r celebrations such as<br />
<strong>the</strong> festivals <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions. Hence, one can listen dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> weekend to<br />
drums call<strong>in</strong>g down <strong>Caribbean</strong> spirits and gods to celebrate with <strong>the</strong> community on<br />
earth. Several small shops <strong>in</strong> this area <strong>of</strong>fer everyth<strong>in</strong>g one would need for such a<br />
celebration: aromatic water, candles, oil, even religious objects and pictures.<br />
This was <strong>the</strong> area where I lived. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> day I was teach<strong>in</strong>g at Brooklyn<br />
College, and at <strong>the</strong> weekend I went to religious festivals and o<strong>the</strong>r events, visited<br />
priests and priestesses <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions and spent most <strong>of</strong> my time speak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
with <strong>the</strong> participants about <strong>the</strong>ir religions.<br />
*<br />
Religion was important from <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> European colonization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
American cont<strong>in</strong>ent. America – <strong>the</strong> European America – was conquered and occupied<br />
by religious fanatics: from Columbus – who arrived with <strong>the</strong> Bible <strong>in</strong> hand – and <strong>the</strong><br />
pilgrims – who had to leave England for religious reasons – to <strong>the</strong> Summer School<br />
<strong>of</strong> L<strong>in</strong>guistics, whose members study <strong>in</strong>digenous languages <strong>in</strong> order to translate <strong>the</strong><br />
Bible <strong>in</strong>to more languages. Everyone arrived with <strong>the</strong>ir own <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Bible that became not only <strong>the</strong> rule for <strong>the</strong>mselves but also <strong>the</strong> rule accord<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
which o<strong>the</strong>rs had to live.<br />
To understand <strong>the</strong> current situation it is important to grasp <strong>the</strong> differences between<br />
<strong>the</strong> Christian traditions that have <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> religious structures <strong>in</strong> America up to<br />
now. Virgilio Elizondo, for <strong>in</strong>stance, a Mexican-American <strong>the</strong>ologian, describes <strong>the</strong><br />
situation as follows:
34<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
The United States was born as a secular enterprise with a deep sense <strong>of</strong> religious mission.<br />
The native religions were elim<strong>in</strong>ated and supported by a new type <strong>of</strong> religion. Puritan<br />
moralism, Presbyterian righteousness and Methodist social consciousness coupled<br />
with deism and <strong>the</strong> spirit <strong>of</strong> rugged <strong>in</strong>dividualism to provide a sound basis for <strong>the</strong> new<br />
nationalism which would function as <strong>the</strong> core religion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> land. (1994: 119)<br />
About Lat<strong>in</strong> America he cont<strong>in</strong>ues:<br />
It was quite different <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America where <strong>the</strong> religion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> old European world<br />
clashed with native religious traditions. In <strong>the</strong>ir efforts to uproot <strong>the</strong> native religions, <strong>the</strong><br />
conquerors found <strong>the</strong>mselves assumed <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong>m. Iberian Catholicism with its emphasis on<br />
orthodoxy, rituals and <strong>the</strong> div<strong>in</strong>ely established monarchical nature <strong>of</strong> all society conquered<br />
physically. But it was absorbed by <strong>the</strong> pre-Colombian spirituality with its emphasis on <strong>the</strong><br />
cosmic rituals express<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> harmonious unity <strong>of</strong> oppos<strong>in</strong>g tensions: male and female,<br />
suffer<strong>in</strong>g and happ<strong>in</strong>ess, self-immanence and transcendence, <strong>in</strong>dividual and group, sacred<br />
and pr<strong>of</strong>ane, life and death. (1994: 119)<br />
This simplistic comparison from <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> a Catholic priest <strong>in</strong>dicates <strong>the</strong><br />
importance <strong>of</strong> religion from <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>ent, but<br />
also <strong>the</strong> tensions between <strong>the</strong> different Christian traditions. Though no country <strong>in</strong><br />
any part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Americas is so homogeneous <strong>in</strong> its religious structure as Elizondo<br />
assumes (he ignores, for <strong>in</strong>stance, conversion to Pentecostalism <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America),<br />
<strong>the</strong> migration process even <strong>in</strong>creases <strong>the</strong> diversity because it br<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>the</strong> various<br />
<strong>in</strong>terpretations <strong>of</strong> Christianity toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> new environments. Ano<strong>the</strong>r development<br />
that adds to <strong>the</strong> tension between <strong>the</strong> religious traditions is <strong>the</strong> arrival <strong>of</strong> new versions<br />
<strong>of</strong> Christianity that not everyone accepts as Christian traditions. In particular<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g presence <strong>of</strong> Creole religions which were created <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> slavery and have now reached <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> are <strong>of</strong>ten regarded with<br />
suspicion. The systematic suppression <strong>of</strong> differentiated African identities which are<br />
<strong>of</strong>ten expressed <strong>in</strong> religious contexts has led to <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> new religious<br />
traditions <strong>in</strong> various <strong>Caribbean</strong> societies. Below <strong>the</strong> cover <strong>of</strong> Christianity (ma<strong>in</strong>ly<br />
Catholicism, but also Protestantism) suppressed and enslaved people managed to<br />
create new African religions. Decades after <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> slavery and <strong>in</strong>fluenced by <strong>the</strong><br />
Civil Rights movements, some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se religions have started to abolish <strong>the</strong> Christian<br />
frame as a symbol <strong>of</strong> oppression <strong>in</strong> order to re-establish <strong>the</strong>ir African heritage.<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants belong to a Christian tradition which is nei<strong>the</strong>r purely<br />
Catholic nor purely Protestant, and also to a new African tradition which is (aga<strong>in</strong>)<br />
not purely African but has <strong>in</strong>corporated o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong>fluences. The prayers after arrival<br />
are still addressed to God but to a god with a poly<strong>the</strong>istic image. This ambiguous<br />
situation is difficult to grasp. Scholars <strong>in</strong> anthropology <strong>of</strong> religions <strong>of</strong>ten start <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
books with <strong>the</strong> question <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> nature <strong>of</strong> religion but only to conclude that religion is<br />
<strong>in</strong>def<strong>in</strong>able. I regard religions not only as part <strong>of</strong> culture but as a prism <strong>of</strong> culture. I am<br />
not <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> search for ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntic’ religions or <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> debate about syncretism<br />
but <strong>in</strong> religions which are liv<strong>in</strong>g, dynamic and cont<strong>in</strong>uously be<strong>in</strong>g created anew.<br />
At <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> my study are <strong>the</strong>refore religious communities that demonstrate <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>dividuality as well as <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> religious traditions experienced by migrants.<br />
I agree with Stephen Warner who argues that ‘our task was to discover what new
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 35<br />
ethnic and immigrant groups were do<strong>in</strong>g toge<strong>the</strong>r religiously <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> United States,<br />
and what manners <strong>of</strong> religious <strong>in</strong>stitutions <strong>the</strong>y were develop<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong>, by, and for<br />
<strong>the</strong>mselves’ (1998: 9). In consequence, I will not limit my observation by present<strong>in</strong>g<br />
only <strong>the</strong> history and phenomena <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious traditions; I will describe <strong>the</strong> life<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions by <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g short descriptions <strong>of</strong> some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> events I observed<br />
and look at <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions for <strong>the</strong> practitioners. The focus will be on<br />
specific religious communities and <strong>the</strong>ir meet<strong>in</strong>gs. There will probably be hundreds<br />
<strong>of</strong> examples that contradict <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>formation I ga<strong>the</strong>red from <strong>the</strong>se communities.<br />
A case study can never have representative character. Never<strong>the</strong>less, it shows a way<br />
(out <strong>of</strong> many) <strong>of</strong> how migrants deal with <strong>the</strong>ir situation <strong>in</strong> a new environment: <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. In order to show different strategies I will present three religious ways <strong>in</strong><br />
this chapter, each connected to <strong>the</strong> three major languages <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>: Santería<br />
(la regla de ocha and la regla de ifá) for <strong>the</strong> Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g communities, Vodou for<br />
<strong>the</strong> French- and Kreyòl-speak<strong>in</strong>g communities, and Orisha Baptist (Shango) for <strong>the</strong><br />
English-speak<strong>in</strong>g communities. 1 My focus is on migrants and <strong>the</strong> next generations,<br />
hence on ‘ethnic’ religions (Greschat 1996) though I will <strong>in</strong>clude practitioners<br />
with o<strong>the</strong>r ethnic backgrounds and <strong>the</strong>ir relationship to <strong>the</strong> migrants. Migration<br />
marks an exceptional moment <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> biography <strong>of</strong> a person. Religious identity<br />
abroad is <strong>of</strong>ten more important than at home where belong<strong>in</strong>g to a religion is <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
regarded as normal, without <strong>the</strong> need to reflect upon it. Liv<strong>in</strong>g abroad creates new<br />
demands which sometimes cannot be satisfied by <strong>in</strong>stitutionalized religions. Hence,<br />
non-<strong>in</strong>stitutionalized religious practices that deal <strong>in</strong> particular with <strong>the</strong> wishes and<br />
needs <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants and that can easily adapt to <strong>the</strong>ir wishes start to grow. 2 These<br />
new customs do not represent a total change <strong>of</strong> cultural patterns for <strong>the</strong> migrants but a<br />
re<strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> established religious practices <strong>in</strong> a way that matches <strong>the</strong> demands<br />
and experiences <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants. 3 Even established religions can change as Elizabeth<br />
McAlister (1998) for a Haitian community and Ana María Díaz-Stevens (1993) for a<br />
Puerto Rican community <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> have shown. Both communities succeeded<br />
<strong>in</strong> express<strong>in</strong>g conflict with society by present<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir perspective dur<strong>in</strong>g a religious<br />
procession for a Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>t on <strong>the</strong> streets <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. The believers voiced<br />
<strong>in</strong> a performative way <strong>the</strong>ir own <strong>in</strong>dividual opposition to <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant will <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Roman Catholic Church. 4 Given <strong>the</strong> discrepancy between <strong>the</strong> religious <strong>in</strong>stitutions<br />
1 Unfortunately, this limitation implies <strong>the</strong> exclusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Dutch-speak<strong>in</strong>g communities<br />
which are also present <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> but not yet <strong>in</strong> large numbers.<br />
2 For <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> connection between biography and religion, see Wohlrab-<br />
Sahr who dist<strong>in</strong>guishes between two ma<strong>in</strong> functions <strong>of</strong> religion with reference to biography: a<br />
biographical-structural function and a reflexive function (1995: 9–13). I will focus on <strong>the</strong> latter,<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual-biographical, which is particularly important for conversion but also for migration.<br />
Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Wohlrab-Sahr, conversion <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>in</strong>dividual processes <strong>of</strong> metamorphosis, ei<strong>the</strong>r<br />
<strong>the</strong> radical metamorphosis <strong>of</strong> a person or <strong>of</strong> her or his cognitive pattern.<br />
3 This process is similar to <strong>the</strong> one dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> conquest <strong>of</strong> America, <strong>in</strong> particular to <strong>the</strong><br />
experiences <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> people <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America where <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant religion, Catholicism, was<br />
also re<strong>in</strong>terpreted accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> local experiences <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> people.<br />
4 Leo Frobenius recognizes while observ<strong>in</strong>g children play<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>al source <strong>of</strong><br />
creativity and culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> games <strong>of</strong> children. He concludes that <strong>in</strong> a game one gets access<br />
to ano<strong>the</strong>r ‘reality’ by becom<strong>in</strong>g overwhelmed by a phenomenon outside its natural context
36<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
and <strong>the</strong> religious feel<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants <strong>the</strong> question arises why certa<strong>in</strong> religious<br />
communities <strong>of</strong> migrants rema<strong>in</strong> while o<strong>the</strong>rs decl<strong>in</strong>e, why certa<strong>in</strong> churches<br />
successfully <strong>in</strong>clude migrants while o<strong>the</strong>rs fail, and why some religious communities<br />
have no problems f<strong>in</strong>d<strong>in</strong>g religious leaders while o<strong>the</strong>rs decl<strong>in</strong>e after <strong>the</strong> death <strong>of</strong> a<br />
leader. In order to answer <strong>the</strong>se questions I will beg<strong>in</strong> by expla<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> attitude <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>stitutional religions such as <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church with its Hispanic M<strong>in</strong>istry<br />
Office <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn and <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal, a Pentecostal Church with centres<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brooklyn and Queens. The focus is on <strong>the</strong> Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g migrants from <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> who represent <strong>the</strong> largest community <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>.<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong>o Christianities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
When one considers <strong>the</strong> numerous Catholic settlements <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Sou<strong>the</strong>rn part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spanish colonial empire, <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic presence <strong>in</strong> North<br />
America is older than that <strong>of</strong> Protestant churches. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> foundation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>USA</strong> was a Protestant enterprise with just 35,000 Catholics out <strong>of</strong> a total population <strong>of</strong><br />
3,172,000 5 (Shaughnessy 1925: 73). Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> next centuries <strong>the</strong> numbers <strong>of</strong> Catholics<br />
rose dramatically and today <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church is <strong>the</strong> church with <strong>the</strong> highest<br />
number <strong>of</strong> members <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> (Hargrove, Schmidt and Davaney 1985: 121). In spite<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ongo<strong>in</strong>g impression <strong>of</strong> it be<strong>in</strong>g a European church <strong>the</strong> radical <strong>in</strong>crease is based on<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> territory which was occupied predom<strong>in</strong>antly by Catholic people such as<br />
<strong>New</strong> Mexico and California. Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> was connected to <strong>the</strong> European migrants while <strong>the</strong> so-called Hispanics<br />
were excluded. Until <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century <strong>the</strong> experiences <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
African-Americans and <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong>os with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church were very pa<strong>in</strong>ful<br />
(see Liptak 1989: 171). The first changes occurred only after <strong>the</strong> Second World War as<br />
<strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> archdiocese <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> shows. The Catholic Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> was relatively unimportant until, at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> eighteenth and <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century, a large number <strong>of</strong> Irish migrants arrived <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> city. At this time<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> was a missionary area under <strong>the</strong> European leadership <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic<br />
Church, which sent priests to take care <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> European settlers and <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous<br />
population (Ciesluk 1944: 28). Characteristic <strong>of</strong> this period was <strong>the</strong> foundation <strong>of</strong><br />
National Parishes, ethnically homogeneous communities with a priest from <strong>the</strong>ir own<br />
country (Stern 1989: 312ff.). One hundred years later <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> experienced <strong>the</strong> arrival<br />
<strong>of</strong> more and more Catholic migrants from Mexico and o<strong>the</strong>r Lat<strong>in</strong> American countries.<br />
As a result, <strong>the</strong> first parish for Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g migrants was founded <strong>in</strong> 1902<br />
(<strong>the</strong> chapel Our Lady <strong>of</strong> Guadalupe on 14th Street <strong>in</strong> Manhattan).<br />
The arrival <strong>of</strong> large numbers <strong>of</strong> Puerto Ricans created problems for <strong>the</strong> Catholic<br />
Church because <strong>the</strong>y arrived without <strong>the</strong>ir own priests, which was not <strong>the</strong> case with<br />
(1993: 24). Applied to <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> processions this means that <strong>the</strong> believers who became<br />
overwhelmed by <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sa<strong>in</strong>t suddenly started to recognize someth<strong>in</strong>g that was<br />
hidden before, such as cultural modes <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>dividual but also <strong>the</strong>ir own opposition to<br />
<strong>in</strong>stitutionalized regulations.<br />
5 The numbers refer to just part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> real population because only white settlers were<br />
counted.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 37<br />
earlier European migrants. The church reacted by support<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>tegrated parishes that<br />
<strong>of</strong>fered <strong>the</strong> congregation a service <strong>in</strong> Spanish after <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> one <strong>in</strong> English, <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> basement as Reverend John Brogan, <strong>the</strong> director <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Hispanic M<strong>in</strong>istry Office<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> diocese <strong>of</strong> Brooklyn, expla<strong>in</strong>ed to me. Instead <strong>of</strong> ethnically homogeneous<br />
congregations more and more mixed-ethnic ones appeared. At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
1970s most national parishes that were accused <strong>of</strong> racial segregation by <strong>the</strong> Black<br />
Power movement (Liptak 1989: 193) were transformed <strong>in</strong>to <strong>in</strong>tegrated parishes<br />
(Greeley 1972: 7). At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s 25 per cent <strong>of</strong> all parishes <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>of</strong>fered mass <strong>in</strong> English and Spanish, and half <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se congregations had<br />
Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g priests (Stern 1989: 378). None<strong>the</strong>less, despite all <strong>the</strong>se efforts<br />
<strong>the</strong> Catholic Church was not prepared for <strong>the</strong> structural changes <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> migration<br />
process follow<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>troduction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> new immigration act <strong>in</strong> 1965. At <strong>the</strong> time,<br />
when more and more migrants were arriv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
congregations were mov<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> suburbs, and hence many <strong>in</strong>tegrated parishes<br />
became Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g congregations. But <strong>the</strong>y did not develop a strong sense <strong>of</strong><br />
belong<strong>in</strong>g. One reason might be <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir own priests who could have helped<br />
members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation to <strong>in</strong>tegrate <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> community. The o<strong>the</strong>r reason<br />
is probably f<strong>in</strong>ancial poverty, because earlier communities developed a sense <strong>of</strong><br />
belong<strong>in</strong>g through <strong>the</strong> organization <strong>of</strong> fund-rais<strong>in</strong>g projects, but this was impossible<br />
for <strong>the</strong> poor new arrivals. The failure to build a community structure led Puerto<br />
Ricans <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> arms <strong>of</strong> Protestant churches (see Torres 1995: 71–2), though Puerto<br />
Ricans have been <strong>the</strong> focus <strong>of</strong> attention <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> s<strong>in</strong>ce<br />
1955. 6 Some years later, <strong>in</strong> 1971, Joseph Fitzpatrick concluded that<br />
Hispanics still cl<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> basic beliefs <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church, but do not practice as<br />
Americans do. Regular attendance at mass and sacraments is not <strong>the</strong> sign <strong>of</strong> a ‘good<br />
catholic’ as it is among Americans. Folk practices are still strong and important even<br />
among youth. (1987: 133)<br />
As a result <strong>of</strong> his f<strong>in</strong>d<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>the</strong> church founded a Secretariat for Hispanic Affairs <strong>in</strong> 1974<br />
and <strong>in</strong> 1983 <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fice <strong>of</strong> Pastoral Care <strong>of</strong> Migrants and Refugees. Brooklyn, declared<br />
by its bishop as <strong>the</strong> diocese <strong>of</strong> immigrants (Liptak 1989: 197), belonged to <strong>the</strong> central<br />
<strong>of</strong>fice until 1991, when <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dependent Hispanic M<strong>in</strong>istry Office was founded. The<br />
ma<strong>in</strong> function <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fice, accord<strong>in</strong>g to its director, was <strong>the</strong> coord<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
various activities <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> separate parishes <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, hence not <strong>the</strong> help <strong>of</strong> migrants.<br />
This focus is contrary to <strong>the</strong> wishes and demands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants who <strong>of</strong>ten approach<br />
<strong>the</strong> staff <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fice <strong>in</strong> order to get help. However, <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fice can look proudly<br />
on ano<strong>the</strong>r development. After labell<strong>in</strong>g immigrants from Lat<strong>in</strong> America Lat<strong>in</strong>o or<br />
Hispanic, <strong>the</strong>y are now treated accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir national identity. The Catholic<br />
Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>of</strong>fers mass <strong>in</strong> twenty-one languages, and dist<strong>in</strong>guishes<br />
between <strong>the</strong> various Catholic traditions <strong>of</strong> Mexicans, Dom<strong>in</strong>icans, Cubans, Puerto<br />
Ricans and so on, with <strong>the</strong> celebration <strong>of</strong> national religious festivals and processions.<br />
Brogan stated dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terview: ‘We have [organized] various national festivals …<br />
that allow people to be <strong>the</strong>mselves. And for <strong>the</strong>mselves, it is ra<strong>the</strong>r important to share<br />
6 In 1955 <strong>the</strong> first ‘Conference on <strong>the</strong> Spiritual Care <strong>of</strong> Puerto Rican Migrants’ was held<br />
<strong>in</strong> San Juan, Puerto Rico (Liptak 1989: 196).
38<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
with o<strong>the</strong>rs what <strong>the</strong>y are … Ecuadorians [for example] do not know anyth<strong>in</strong>g about<br />
Dom<strong>in</strong>icans.’ 7 Through <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> diverse national faith elements <strong>the</strong> church<br />
tries to <strong>in</strong>tegrate people liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> neighbourhood <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church build<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong><br />
congregation. Apart from identify<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> diverse national heritages <strong>the</strong> church has<br />
to understand <strong>the</strong> different demands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> generations. While <strong>the</strong> first generation <strong>of</strong><br />
migrants needs help with <strong>the</strong>ir first steps and <strong>of</strong>ten came search<strong>in</strong>g for legal advice,<br />
Puerto Ricans who are now third and fourth generation <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>ers are worried, for<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance, about <strong>the</strong> disruption <strong>of</strong> family ties to <strong>the</strong> island. Therefore <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fice has<br />
to adapt cont<strong>in</strong>uously to <strong>the</strong> new demands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants who approach <strong>the</strong> staff,<br />
as Brogan expla<strong>in</strong>s. In order to respond to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g requests, <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fice now<br />
hires Lat<strong>in</strong> American priests for <strong>the</strong> care <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants. After a period <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>tegrated<br />
parishes <strong>the</strong> diocese seems to have returned to <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> homogeneous congregations<br />
separated by languages <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> nationality or ethnicity. After <strong>the</strong> dissolution <strong>of</strong><br />
national borders <strong>the</strong> new congregations became Spanish parishes. Under <strong>the</strong> ro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong><br />
one church build<strong>in</strong>g priests <strong>of</strong>ten have to care for various ethnic communities whose<br />
members speak Spanish. While <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>tegrated parishes English dom<strong>in</strong>ated, <strong>the</strong> new<br />
Spanish congregations have adapted to <strong>the</strong> local environment and its <strong>in</strong>habitants. 8<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, one problem rema<strong>in</strong>s as Brogan discusses. It is still difficult to <strong>in</strong>clude<br />
<strong>the</strong> migrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> community. Brogan expla<strong>in</strong>s this lack <strong>of</strong> cooperation with reference<br />
to <strong>the</strong> situation <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America where <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church still dom<strong>in</strong>ates society.<br />
It is <strong>the</strong>refore not necessary for <strong>the</strong> practitioners to support <strong>the</strong>ir own congregation.<br />
They can attend mass wherever <strong>the</strong>y are and whenever <strong>the</strong>y want without feel<strong>in</strong>g<br />
responsible to a community. In <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g to a religion is connected to a<br />
specific community which <strong>the</strong> members have to support f<strong>in</strong>ancially and actively. The<br />
migrants are not aware <strong>of</strong> this commitment and ignore <strong>the</strong>refore this part <strong>of</strong> religious<br />
practice. They feel a strong sense <strong>of</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir community at home but not to<br />
<strong>the</strong> community <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Only after years can a relationship grow.<br />
I ga<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> impression that <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church has tried to learn from<br />
its mistakes but still ignores <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>in</strong> popularity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Pentecostal movements<br />
among Lat<strong>in</strong> American migrants. In particular <strong>the</strong> Brazilian Igreja Universal, known <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> under <strong>the</strong> Spanish name Iglesia Universal, is grow<strong>in</strong>g larger and larger.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, Brogan says calmly: ‘You have one church <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, one <strong>in</strong> Manhattan,<br />
but you have 110 Catholic churches.’ 9 He ignores <strong>the</strong> fact that <strong>the</strong> few churches <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal collect more money than a hundred Catholic churches and each<br />
attracts more people than St Patrick’s ca<strong>the</strong>dral. As Brogan himself says, migrants<br />
need help <strong>in</strong> more than one way: ‘Many immigrants are <strong>in</strong> great need. You <strong>of</strong>fer <strong>the</strong>m<br />
7 Brogan, personal communication, 5.1.1999.<br />
8 Dur<strong>in</strong>g my time as visit<strong>in</strong>g pr<strong>of</strong>essor at Brooklyn College I was twice <strong>in</strong>vited to<br />
speak to members <strong>of</strong> a Lu<strong>the</strong>ran congregation about my German perspective. The church<br />
was orig<strong>in</strong>ally founded by Norwegian migrants who moved out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> neighbourhood some<br />
time ago. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong>y still dom<strong>in</strong>ate <strong>the</strong> congregation though <strong>the</strong> people liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> this<br />
neighbourhood today are Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g. Apply<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> model <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>tegrated parish <strong>the</strong><br />
church <strong>of</strong>fers services <strong>in</strong> English, Norwegian and – <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement – <strong>in</strong> Spanish. Even <strong>the</strong><br />
hierarchy <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pastors is structured accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> language barriers though most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
members are Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
9 Brogan, personal communication, 5.1.1999.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 39<br />
a sure solution <strong>of</strong> problems that <strong>the</strong>y have – separation from <strong>the</strong> family, immigration,<br />
sickness – and money … They don’t have a social network.’ 10 None<strong>the</strong>less, while some<br />
churches such as <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal advertise that <strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>fer support, <strong>the</strong> Catholic<br />
Church does not change its attitude and still refers to spiritual care as its first duty. On<br />
<strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, <strong>the</strong> church has <strong>in</strong>creased its importance for <strong>the</strong> migrants by address<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> emotional dimension. The worship <strong>of</strong> sa<strong>in</strong>ts is <strong>the</strong> central religious practice <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America; hence <strong>the</strong> decision to import it to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> has augmented <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> church. At <strong>the</strong> moment <strong>the</strong> cult <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Virgen de Guadalupe from Mexico is gett<strong>in</strong>g<br />
more and more attention <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, even<br />
outside <strong>the</strong> Mexican neighbourhoods. 11 Ano<strong>the</strong>r change is <strong>the</strong> charismatic movement<br />
that has affected <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Brogan categorizes it as a<br />
style and not as a movement because it manifests itself <strong>in</strong> a certa<strong>in</strong> style <strong>of</strong> preach<strong>in</strong>g<br />
and s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> evangelical churches. Start<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Pittsburgh, it has s<strong>in</strong>ce created a<br />
revival <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Brogan it also facilitated <strong>the</strong><br />
movement <strong>of</strong> believers between <strong>the</strong> charismatic churches, <strong>the</strong> Pentecostal churches,<br />
Jehovah’s witnesses, Seventh-Day Adventists and Mormons, though <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end, after<br />
a period <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>stability caused by migration, believers will come back to <strong>the</strong> Catholic<br />
Church. Brogan expla<strong>in</strong>s it by referr<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> Catholic identity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants, which<br />
<strong>the</strong>y will keep <strong>in</strong> spite <strong>of</strong> all <strong>the</strong>ir movements between churches. Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
migrants are not so attracted to <strong>the</strong> charismatic churches as <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants because<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir lack <strong>of</strong> African roots (all accord<strong>in</strong>g to Brogan). 12<br />
On <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, Brogan says, Lat<strong>in</strong> American and <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants help<br />
‘Americans’ (Brogan refers here to US Americans) to return to <strong>the</strong> Catholic religion<br />
or to re-f<strong>in</strong>d it. Corpus Christi, for <strong>in</strong>stance, is a totally unimportant event <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>USA</strong> but is now ga<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g attention. The faith that was limited to attendance at mass is<br />
<strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly newly experienced and lived.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, Brogan himself acknowledges a threat to <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church<br />
from ano<strong>the</strong>r corner: from <strong>the</strong> Mormons, who attract more and more migrants. With<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir middle-class appearances (suit, white shirt and tie) <strong>the</strong>y address <strong>the</strong> hopes <strong>of</strong><br />
economic and social success held by migrants <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, Queens and <strong>the</strong> Bronx. 13<br />
Brogan predicts that <strong>in</strong> few years a third <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> US population will be Mormon.<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong>os <strong>the</strong>mselves <strong>of</strong>ten stress <strong>the</strong>ir own k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong>o religiosity which,<br />
for <strong>in</strong>stance, Luis Rivera Pagán describes as represent<strong>in</strong>g ‘an alternative form <strong>of</strong><br />
Christian belief and practice that responds to our particular circumstances as peoples<br />
still search<strong>in</strong>g for self-determ<strong>in</strong>ation’ (1994: 97). Similar to Douglas’<strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Bog Irishmen (1970), Elizondo dist<strong>in</strong>guished two different ways <strong>of</strong> Catholicism:<br />
while US Catholicism focuses on <strong>the</strong> Word, Lat<strong>in</strong>o Catholicism focuses on ritual and<br />
<strong>the</strong> worship <strong>of</strong> sa<strong>in</strong>ts (1994: 120). The Lat<strong>in</strong>o Religious Resurgence brought an end<br />
10 Brogan, personal communication, 5.1.1999.<br />
11 See also Zires for <strong>the</strong> symbolic mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> virg<strong>in</strong> as a pan-hispanic figure <strong>of</strong><br />
identification (1994: 90–91).<br />
12 Brogan, personal communication, 5.1.1999.<br />
13 On <strong>the</strong> west coast a similar development has been reported, but among Asian<br />
immigrants (see A. Ong 1996).
40<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
to <strong>the</strong> external position <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong>os <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> and<br />
helped to def<strong>in</strong>e Lat<strong>in</strong>os as different but American. 14<br />
The Iglesia Universal is develop<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a different way. Instead <strong>of</strong> try<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
<strong>in</strong>clude migrants <strong>in</strong> established communities, <strong>the</strong> neo-pentecostal Church is<br />
address<strong>in</strong>g people separated by language and culture. In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong> church<br />
owns three centres: <strong>the</strong> one <strong>in</strong> Manhattan preaches <strong>in</strong> English while <strong>the</strong> two larger<br />
ones <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn and Queens use only Spanish. I visited both Spanish centres<br />
and will shortly describe my impressions. Founded <strong>in</strong> Rio de Janeiro <strong>in</strong> 1977 by<br />
Edir Macedo, today <strong>the</strong> Igreja Universal belongs to <strong>the</strong> most important and fastest<br />
grow<strong>in</strong>g neo-pentecostal church <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> world. Though its roots go back to a US<br />
American Pentecostal movement which reached Brazil <strong>in</strong> 1911, 15 <strong>the</strong> Brazilian<br />
church is not an <strong>of</strong>fshoot <strong>of</strong> but <strong>in</strong>dependent from <strong>the</strong> US American movement.<br />
Shortly after foundation <strong>the</strong> church spread through urban Brazil, and <strong>the</strong>n dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
1980s Macedo started to send his missionaries <strong>in</strong>to o<strong>the</strong>r South American countries,<br />
and, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> mid-1990s, to Europe and North America. Macedo leads <strong>the</strong> church from<br />
São Paulo <strong>in</strong> an authoritarian manner. Unlike most Protestant churches <strong>the</strong> Igreja<br />
Universal is not based on strong communities but on a hierarchical structure. Able<br />
members are encouraged to participate at sem<strong>in</strong>ars <strong>in</strong> order to move up <strong>the</strong> hierarchy.<br />
All important positions are filled by Brazilians and only rarely bypeople from o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
South American countries, though tra<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> Brazil. Though <strong>the</strong> lesser positions such<br />
as musicians, assistants and teachers are filled bylocal residents, <strong>the</strong> leadership comes<br />
from <strong>the</strong> outside and normally circulates from community to community, and from<br />
country to country. 16 Hence it is not possible to build a strong relationship between<br />
a pastor and his community (<strong>the</strong> pastors are normally men). When I asked about<br />
<strong>the</strong> reasons for this, I was told that <strong>the</strong> Word (hence <strong>the</strong> sermon) is important, not<br />
<strong>the</strong> men. In Brazil sermons are broadcast on TV; <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong>y broadcast<br />
short announcements and advertisements accompanied by popular Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
songs on <strong>the</strong> Spanish TV channels. These attracted attention <strong>in</strong> Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
communities even from <strong>New</strong> Jersey and o<strong>the</strong>r states. Pastor Oliveira told me that <strong>the</strong><br />
Igreja Universal started <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> with a small church <strong>in</strong> Manhattan, founded by<br />
a US American after his return from Brazil at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s. As <strong>the</strong> numbers<br />
<strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American migrants cont<strong>in</strong>ued to grow <strong>the</strong> Brazilian church decided to found<br />
a church <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn with services only <strong>in</strong> Spanish. Hence, <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>tegration it<br />
14 See Díaz-Stevens and Stevens-Arroyo 1998.<br />
15 See Seeber-Tegeth<strong>of</strong>f 1998 for <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church <strong>in</strong> Brazil;<br />
for <strong>the</strong> spread <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church <strong>in</strong> South America, see Pollak-Eltz 1998. For <strong>in</strong>formation about<br />
Pentecostalism <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America <strong>in</strong> general, see Stoll 1993.<br />
16 Dur<strong>in</strong>g my <strong>in</strong>itial visit I <strong>in</strong>troduced myself to Pastor Oliveira who had been <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
for two years. He was <strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> all three centres and I needed his permission for my research.<br />
When I returned a few months later, he had moved and his colleague <strong>in</strong> Queens, Pastor Henrique,<br />
had been moved up <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> hierarchy; hence, I had to get his permission, too. The hierarchical<br />
structure aggravated my research. Even with permission it was difficult to speak with members<br />
without <strong>in</strong>terruption from some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> assistants who tried to stop me ask<strong>in</strong>g questions. Even<br />
after I was f<strong>in</strong>ally allowed to speak to <strong>the</strong> chief pastor (<strong>the</strong>ir normal excuse was that <strong>the</strong> reverend<br />
does not speak English though this was made obsolete by my Spanish reply) <strong>the</strong>y still tried to<br />
put me <strong>of</strong>f by giv<strong>in</strong>g me <strong>the</strong> telephone number <strong>of</strong> a German outlet <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 41<br />
decided to establish segregated churches for Lat<strong>in</strong>os and non-Lat<strong>in</strong>os. In 1990 <strong>the</strong><br />
church bought a former <strong>the</strong>atre <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn for <strong>the</strong> first Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g community<br />
(see Figure 3.1), and <strong>in</strong> 1997 it built a large church <strong>in</strong> Queens, also for Spanish<br />
services. In every centre <strong>the</strong>re are three services a day with special functions. Apart<br />
from <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> service on Sunday <strong>the</strong> Friday services are <strong>the</strong> most popular because<br />
<strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>fer exorcism <strong>of</strong> bad demons. No pastor was able to tell me <strong>the</strong> size <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
community because <strong>of</strong> chang<strong>in</strong>g levels <strong>of</strong> attendance. ‘The church is open for anyone’<br />
said Pastor Henrique <strong>in</strong> reply to my question about <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong> and domicile <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
members <strong>of</strong> his congregation. He also evaded my question about <strong>the</strong> relationship<br />
to o<strong>the</strong>r religions with <strong>the</strong> short reply ‘All are welcome’, even when I mentioned<br />
Afro-American religions such as <strong>the</strong> Brazilian Candomblé. 17 Accord<strong>in</strong>g to David<br />
Stoll, denial <strong>of</strong> conflicts with o<strong>the</strong>r religions is a common strategy <strong>of</strong> leaders <strong>of</strong> new<br />
churches because <strong>the</strong>y want to reduce <strong>the</strong> antagonism <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir members who are torn<br />
between loyalty to <strong>the</strong> new and old faiths (1993: 9).<br />
From my observations and <strong>the</strong> short conversations I was allowed to have with<br />
members I estimate that approximately 600 to 700 people attended each daily service,<br />
most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m well dressed – <strong>in</strong> particular at <strong>the</strong> Sunday services. Among <strong>the</strong>m I<br />
could dist<strong>in</strong>guish two groups. The majority come to <strong>the</strong> service <strong>in</strong> order to get help<br />
<strong>in</strong> specific situations. As soon as <strong>the</strong> problem is solved (by <strong>the</strong> church or by o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
means) <strong>the</strong>y stay away. These people come to certa<strong>in</strong> church services accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong><br />
problem <strong>the</strong>y have, and <strong>of</strong>ten also consult one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pastors after <strong>the</strong> service. They<br />
pay for <strong>the</strong> services <strong>the</strong>y expect to receive. In return <strong>the</strong>y get a symbolic pledge for<br />
<strong>the</strong> service such as <strong>the</strong> small red handkerchief I was once <strong>of</strong>fered. In exchange for a<br />
certa<strong>in</strong> amount <strong>of</strong> money all participants at a Friday service were urged to come to<br />
<strong>the</strong> front, and put <strong>the</strong> handkerchief <strong>in</strong> a bowl <strong>of</strong> oily water which <strong>the</strong>y would receive<br />
back <strong>in</strong> one week’s time <strong>in</strong> return for a f<strong>in</strong>ancial tribute. This handkerchief would <strong>the</strong>n<br />
spiritually cleanse <strong>the</strong> house and <strong>the</strong> family, hence solv<strong>in</strong>g any problems at home.<br />
The m<strong>in</strong>ority <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> participants at <strong>the</strong> service are <strong>the</strong> group <strong>of</strong> believers who stay<br />
with <strong>the</strong> church and become <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> community. Though <strong>the</strong>y also <strong>in</strong>itially<br />
came <strong>in</strong> search <strong>of</strong> help, <strong>the</strong>y now participate regularly at <strong>the</strong> Sunday service, with some<br />
even becom<strong>in</strong>g assistants or go<strong>in</strong>g to sem<strong>in</strong>ars <strong>in</strong> order to get a post <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> community<br />
(though to my knowledge ma<strong>in</strong>ly men occupy <strong>the</strong>se positions). Sometimes <strong>the</strong>y<br />
develop a relationship with <strong>the</strong> charismatic pastor despite <strong>the</strong> strategy <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian<br />
leadership to move pastors from one community to ano<strong>the</strong>r. Perhaps even more<br />
important is <strong>the</strong> relationship with o<strong>the</strong>r members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community. One Ecuadorian<br />
migrant told me how an Ecuadorian woman had helped him with his problems by<br />
show<strong>in</strong>g him <strong>the</strong> way to <strong>the</strong> ‘true faith’. Though <strong>the</strong> relationship among <strong>the</strong> members<br />
is not <strong>in</strong>tense, José’s short description <strong>of</strong> his experiences after his arrival <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> made it clear that even <strong>the</strong> superficial support <strong>of</strong> ano<strong>the</strong>r migrant from his own<br />
country kept him grounded <strong>in</strong> a problematic situation. Because <strong>of</strong> her help he felt at<br />
home <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> community. It empowered him to cope with his problems.<br />
17 Studies have shown that one ma<strong>in</strong> goal <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Igreja Universal <strong>in</strong> Brazil is <strong>the</strong> exorcism<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> African deities, <strong>the</strong> orixás which are at <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> Candomblé, see, for <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
Seeber-Tegeth<strong>of</strong>f 1998: 92.
42<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Figure 3.1<br />
The Iglesia Universal <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
This opportunity for network<strong>in</strong>g is one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> reasons why <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal is<br />
so successful among Lat<strong>in</strong> American migrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>; ano<strong>the</strong>r is probably<br />
<strong>the</strong> similarity with Catholicism and <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>corporation <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American cultural<br />
aspects <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> worship. But as I mentioned before, even <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church<br />
or <strong>the</strong> Lu<strong>the</strong>ran Church has similar th<strong>in</strong>gs to <strong>of</strong>fer to <strong>the</strong> migrants. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong><br />
Iglesia Universal is one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> fastest grow<strong>in</strong>g churches for migrants. The question<br />
rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>the</strong>refore what dist<strong>in</strong>guishes <strong>the</strong> Brazilian church from o<strong>the</strong>r churches.<br />
The promise <strong>of</strong> salvation on an economical basis seems to be central, hence <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>of</strong>fer to buy salvation. Instead <strong>of</strong> a long-term commitment <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal<br />
demands a f<strong>in</strong>ancial contribution <strong>in</strong> order to achieve salvation. To guard aga<strong>in</strong>st failure<br />
<strong>the</strong> contribution has to become larger, with <strong>the</strong> result that <strong>the</strong> religion develops <strong>in</strong>to a<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ancial service. This quite pragmatic relationship between believers and God goes<br />
hand <strong>in</strong> hand with ano<strong>the</strong>r attraction, <strong>the</strong> shift<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> personal responsibility to a spiritual<br />
entity. Unlike Protestant churches <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal blames <strong>the</strong> devil or o<strong>the</strong>r evil<br />
spirits for <strong>the</strong> wrongdo<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> human be<strong>in</strong>gs. The s<strong>in</strong>ful human be<strong>in</strong>g is not responsible<br />
for problems, but ra<strong>the</strong>r demons are. The s<strong>in</strong>ner becomes a victim <strong>of</strong> seduction and<br />
manipulations and is not culpable. This explanation gives an alternative when a situation<br />
seems helpless, as <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> some family problems. A mo<strong>the</strong>r worries about her son<br />
who has become <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> crim<strong>in</strong>al activities but she cannot do anyth<strong>in</strong>g about it. She<br />
feels helpless and becomes sick. But if she hears that her beloved son was seduced by<br />
evil spirits, she might feel that she can do someth<strong>in</strong>g about it (for <strong>in</strong>stance, exorcism or<br />
a spiritual clean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> house), and hence she starts to feel better.<br />
The emotional approach is probably <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> feature <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal.<br />
The manifestation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Holy Spirit and <strong>the</strong> exorcism <strong>of</strong> demons not only provide
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 43<br />
a spectacular performance but address an important dimension <strong>of</strong> religious feel<strong>in</strong>g<br />
that is central for migrants. They are not only allowed to show emotion dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> service but encouraged to scream, shout or weep <strong>in</strong> a safe environment where<br />
nobody laughs at <strong>the</strong>m but where <strong>the</strong>ir needs are understood. It <strong>of</strong>fers, <strong>the</strong>refore,<br />
an important outlet for suppressed emotions – and not <strong>in</strong> a basement but <strong>in</strong> a large<br />
church build<strong>in</strong>g similar to a ca<strong>the</strong>dral.<br />
Interest<strong>in</strong>gly <strong>the</strong> segregation does not worry <strong>the</strong> members or <strong>the</strong> people outside<br />
<strong>the</strong> church. Though <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal has dist<strong>in</strong>guished radically between Lat<strong>in</strong>os<br />
and non-Lat<strong>in</strong>os, no one seems to protest aga<strong>in</strong>st it; quite <strong>the</strong> opposite, <strong>in</strong> fact, with<br />
members seem<strong>in</strong>g to appreciate that <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal is very obviously a Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American <strong>in</strong>stitution, founded <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America <strong>in</strong> order to help Lat<strong>in</strong> Americans <strong>in</strong> a<br />
difficult situation. It has done this not <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> foreign US American way, which is <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
regarded as cold and hostile, but <strong>in</strong> a Lat<strong>in</strong> American style, full <strong>of</strong> emotion and popular<br />
music. This enables <strong>the</strong> members to cope with difficult situations on <strong>the</strong>ir own terms,<br />
and hence leads <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end to self-empowerment. ‘Evangelical Protestantism can be<br />
regarded as a way for believers to alter <strong>the</strong>ir cultural <strong>in</strong>heritance’ (Stoll 1993: 14).<br />
Instead <strong>of</strong> be<strong>in</strong>g treated as victims by some social charity <strong>the</strong>y become active, though<br />
it is <strong>in</strong> a way that is difficult to understand from <strong>the</strong> outside.<br />
At this po<strong>in</strong>t I will move f<strong>in</strong>ally to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants and <strong>the</strong>ir religious<br />
communities. I will focus on Afro-<strong>Caribbean</strong> religions which are very popular among<br />
<strong>the</strong> migrants as well as o<strong>the</strong>rs. These religions can be characterized by a considerable<br />
sense <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuality with <strong>the</strong> experience <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Num<strong>in</strong>ous central to religious practice.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, be<strong>in</strong>g rooted <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> group is also important because <strong>the</strong> community has<br />
to support <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual liv<strong>in</strong>g through his or her experience. Individuality enables<br />
practitioners to <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>the</strong> ritual practice though most communities are led <strong>in</strong> an<br />
authoritarian way. This ambivalence can create tension, even fragmentation because<br />
<strong>the</strong> leaders <strong>of</strong> a community, <strong>the</strong> priests and m<strong>in</strong>isters, always control <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ological<br />
and ritual side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community. In return for subord<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>fer help and support<br />
<strong>in</strong> all social and physical aspects <strong>of</strong> life. In addition, all religions <strong>in</strong>clude an aes<strong>the</strong>tic<br />
dimension which expresses <strong>the</strong> African core <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se religions.<br />
The Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church<br />
The Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church can be compared with <strong>the</strong> national parishes <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
early period <strong>of</strong> Catholicism <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>: it is an ethnically homogeneous church<br />
with nearly all <strong>of</strong> its members from Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago and a leader, Reverend W.,<br />
who accompanied <strong>the</strong> migrants to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. The worldview <strong>of</strong> this religion is<br />
an impressive example <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mixture and <strong>the</strong> coexistence <strong>of</strong> different systems with<strong>in</strong><br />
a new one. The Spiritual Baptist church belongs to <strong>the</strong> Protestant churches, but it<br />
<strong>in</strong>cludes Catholic as well as African and even Kabbalistic elements. Though it is an<br />
<strong>in</strong>stitutionalized and registered church it still has <strong>the</strong> characteristics <strong>of</strong> an ‘undogmatic’<br />
religion without a central structure and central dogma. 18 In <strong>the</strong> anthropological literature<br />
18 I used <strong>the</strong> term for <strong>the</strong> first time <strong>in</strong> 1995 <strong>in</strong> order to describe religions without central<br />
I used <strong>the</strong> term for <strong>the</strong> first time <strong>in</strong> 1995 <strong>in</strong> order to describe religions without central<br />
dogma and <strong>in</strong>stitutions to dist<strong>in</strong>guish <strong>the</strong>m from <strong>in</strong>stitutionalized religions such as Catholicism<br />
(Schmidt 1995).
44<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
about Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago <strong>the</strong>re are several names for this religion, such as Spiritual<br />
Baptists, Shouters, Orisha-Religion and Shango, but it is very difficult to dist<strong>in</strong>guish<br />
between <strong>the</strong>m, <strong>in</strong> particular between Shouters and Shango believers. While it might<br />
be possible to f<strong>in</strong>d ‘pure’ forms <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago, it is not <strong>the</strong> case <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong>, where both forms jo<strong>in</strong> toge<strong>the</strong>r with Kabbalah ceremonies under <strong>the</strong> ro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong><br />
one church build<strong>in</strong>g. Hence I will call <strong>the</strong>m Spiritual Baptists, realiz<strong>in</strong>g that this term<br />
represents just an approximation <strong>of</strong> a very complex reality. 19<br />
History <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spiritual Baptist Church <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago<br />
The Shouter Baptist Church was founded <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad<br />
and was <strong>in</strong>fluenced by English Baptists, who arrived <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> English colonies <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> seventeenth century. 20 When Brita<strong>in</strong> conquered <strong>the</strong> islands <strong>in</strong> 1797, <strong>in</strong> order to<br />
streng<strong>the</strong>n its position <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> region, <strong>the</strong>y were already <strong>in</strong>habited by Spanish and some<br />
French settlers. The two islands had little political importance until <strong>the</strong>y became<br />
a British colony <strong>in</strong> 1802. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong>n <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Anglican Church, which<br />
became <strong>the</strong> state church <strong>in</strong> 1844, has cont<strong>in</strong>uously <strong>in</strong>creased despite <strong>the</strong> ongo<strong>in</strong>g<br />
presence <strong>of</strong> Catholics among <strong>the</strong> French-speak<strong>in</strong>g elite.<br />
Under first French and <strong>the</strong>n British <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>the</strong> demands <strong>of</strong> cheap labour <strong>in</strong>creased,<br />
lead<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> government to import <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g numbers <strong>of</strong> enslaved people from Africa,<br />
<strong>in</strong> particular from <strong>the</strong> region <strong>of</strong> Nigeria. However, until 1813 only 1 per cent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se<br />
people were Yoruba, though one can notice even today a great Yoruban <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Tr<strong>in</strong>bagonian culture. 21 The ‘africanization’ <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spiritual Baptists who <strong>in</strong>corporated<br />
elements from o<strong>the</strong>r religions <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong>ir belief system, <strong>in</strong> particular African elements,<br />
started at this time. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to legend <strong>the</strong> Shouter religion is rooted <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious<br />
practices <strong>of</strong> African slaves who, at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century, 22 celebrated<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir own worship <strong>in</strong> back rooms <strong>of</strong> churches <strong>in</strong> Port-<strong>of</strong>-Spa<strong>in</strong> while <strong>the</strong>ir masters went<br />
to <strong>the</strong> regular services <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> church hall. At this time <strong>the</strong> so-called merik<strong>in</strong>s, Afro-<br />
American soldiers who fought aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> on <strong>the</strong> British side, settled <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad<br />
toge<strong>the</strong>r with former slaves who were already Baptists. At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth<br />
century Shouter Baptists had developed <strong>the</strong>ir own way <strong>of</strong> belief and practice that <strong>the</strong>n<br />
19 Houk uses <strong>the</strong> term Afro-American religious complex which <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> Spiritual<br />
Baptist, Orisha and Kabbalah religious traditions. He understands all three as separate forms<br />
which comb<strong>in</strong>e to a complex system but he <strong>the</strong>n states that <strong>the</strong> reality is even more complex<br />
(Houk 1992: 27). Glazier, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, dist<strong>in</strong>guishes between Baptist churches without<br />
a Shango connection, Baptist churches with a Shango connection, Shango centres without<br />
Baptist elements and Shango centres with Baptist elements (1983: 4).<br />
20 This <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad is based on a monograph<br />
by C. M. Jacobs which was recommended to me by members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> community;<br />
see Jacobs 1996: 7–34.<br />
21 Houk expla<strong>in</strong>s <strong>the</strong> Yoruba <strong>in</strong>fluence from <strong>the</strong> immigration <strong>of</strong> approximately 9,000<br />
freed slaves from settlements <strong>in</strong> St Helen and Sierra Leone who were predom<strong>in</strong>antly Yoruba<br />
(1992: 116). Pollak-Eltz, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, refers to Cuban Santería as an explanation for <strong>the</strong><br />
strong Yoruba <strong>in</strong>fluence (1995:82).<br />
22 Between 1797 when <strong>the</strong> island was conquered by Brita<strong>in</strong> and 1838, <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial end <strong>of</strong><br />
slavery on <strong>the</strong> island.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 45<br />
spread throughout <strong>the</strong> colony. After <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> slavery <strong>in</strong> 1838 many plantation owners<br />
hired labourers from India and later Ch<strong>in</strong>a so that <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth<br />
century <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> H<strong>in</strong>duism on Spiritual Baptists grew.<br />
In 1912 <strong>the</strong> Shaker religion <strong>in</strong> St V<strong>in</strong>cent was prohibited and many practitioners moved<br />
to Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago where <strong>the</strong>y jo<strong>in</strong>ed Shouter communities. Shortly afterwards, <strong>in</strong><br />
1917, <strong>the</strong> Shouter religion was also prohibited <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago, and many church<br />
build<strong>in</strong>gs were destroyed and members arrested. Never<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> religion survived, as<br />
Melville and Francis Herskovits noted dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir fieldwork <strong>in</strong> 1939:<br />
Baptism, prov<strong>in</strong>g, mourn<strong>in</strong>’, <strong>the</strong> phenomenon <strong>of</strong> possession by <strong>the</strong> ‘Spirit’, <strong>the</strong> physical<br />
manifestation <strong>of</strong> such possession <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> shak<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> danc<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> speak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> tongues, <strong>the</strong><br />
br<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g back <strong>of</strong> spiritual gifts are all at <strong>the</strong> core <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Shouters worship everywhere.<br />
The resemblances from group to group are significant, because each congregation is<br />
autonomous, and no supervisory body sees to it that <strong>in</strong> organization – or dogma – <strong>the</strong><br />
separate churches ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong> any degree <strong>of</strong> unity. (1947: 193)<br />
In 1951 Elton Griffith, who had migrated from Grenada to Tr<strong>in</strong>idad ten years before<br />
and became a major figure among Spiritual Baptists, succeeded <strong>in</strong> gett<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> church<br />
accepted by <strong>the</strong> government aga<strong>in</strong>. Today <strong>the</strong> religion is one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> major religions <strong>in</strong><br />
Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago despite its persistent negative image. 23 In particular members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
upper class discrim<strong>in</strong>ate aga<strong>in</strong>st Spiritual Baptists, as I was told by Reverend W. <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. None<strong>the</strong>less <strong>the</strong> Spiritual Baptists have spread s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1950s throughout<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, Europe and North America. 24 When Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago became<br />
<strong>in</strong>dependent <strong>in</strong> 1962, under <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir first prime m<strong>in</strong>ister, Eric Williams,<br />
<strong>the</strong>y developed a national identity based on <strong>the</strong> Afro-American heritage which until<br />
recently dom<strong>in</strong>ated <strong>the</strong> state (40 per cent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> population today has Asian roots) (see<br />
Jacobs 1996: 66). 25 H<strong>in</strong>duism has been practised <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago for 150 years<br />
and is today one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most important religions on <strong>the</strong> islands and has even started to<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluence Afro-<strong>Caribbean</strong> religions. Ano<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong>fluence came from Kabbalah, orig<strong>in</strong>ally<br />
a Jewish mystical movement that apparently arrived on <strong>the</strong> islands with Spanish and<br />
French Jewish settlers, and became <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad <strong>the</strong> ‘esoteric corpus <strong>of</strong> mystical and<br />
religious knowledge that is thought by some to conta<strong>in</strong> essential teach<strong>in</strong>gs regard<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> spiritual mechanics <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cosmos’ (Houk 1992: 112). Accord<strong>in</strong>g to James Houk,<br />
Kabbalah is regarded today as <strong>the</strong> White man’s magic.<br />
From this diverse religious history we can identify <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spiritual Baptist Church<br />
various elements from o<strong>the</strong>r religions. It is an open system that does not necessarily<br />
exclude new elements but <strong>in</strong>corporates <strong>the</strong>m (Houk 1995: 169–70). For this reason<br />
I cannot really portray <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>in</strong> its<br />
totality, but have to limit myself to some <strong>of</strong> its key elements.<br />
23 Pearl E<strong>in</strong>tou Spr<strong>in</strong>ger strictly divides Baptists and Orisha-worshipers, and states that<br />
<strong>the</strong>re are 33,000 Baptists <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> 1995 census though she also<br />
mentions 100,000 believers accord<strong>in</strong>g to Bishop Thomas (1995: 103).<br />
24 For <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago and its connection to <strong>the</strong><br />
religious structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> two islands, see Houk 1995: 27–9 and Houk 1992: 95–127.<br />
25 See Schmidt 1998a for <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> identity <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>.
46<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
The History <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
The church is situated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> neighbourhood <strong>of</strong> Brooklyn College (see Figure 3.2),<br />
an area with many <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants. A sign above <strong>the</strong> entrance <strong>of</strong> a small terrace<br />
house advertises <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church, though <strong>the</strong> door is closed outside <strong>of</strong><br />
service hours. The leader <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community, Reverend W., lives <strong>in</strong> a flat above <strong>the</strong><br />
church. The build<strong>in</strong>g also <strong>in</strong>cludes storage for religious objects, a kitchen, bathrooms,<br />
a room for new <strong>in</strong>itiates and, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement, a space for Kabbalah ceremonies.<br />
Apart from <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> build<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>re is a small patio where <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>ister keeps his<br />
dogs and also, occasionally, animals for religious sacrifices. The m<strong>in</strong>ister arrived <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> more than twenty years ago after be<strong>in</strong>g tra<strong>in</strong>ed as a m<strong>in</strong>ister <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad,<br />
follow<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> lead <strong>of</strong> his fa<strong>the</strong>r. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> my fieldwork <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
he held <strong>the</strong> position <strong>of</strong> archbishop and was <strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> several churches. However,<br />
<strong>the</strong> community which I will present is his own church, hence <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> community.<br />
He presents himself as cosmopolitan, and his church welcomes, as he says, people<br />
<strong>of</strong> every ethnic and religious background. As he shows me his church, he draws<br />
special attention to <strong>the</strong> various symbols <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r religions such as a Buddha statue<br />
as part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Stations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cross and a figure <strong>of</strong> a H<strong>in</strong>du deity on <strong>the</strong> altar (see<br />
Figure 3.3). The altar with <strong>the</strong> lectern on <strong>the</strong> podium dom<strong>in</strong>ates <strong>the</strong> church hall<br />
which is o<strong>the</strong>rwise occupied by chairs and benches for <strong>the</strong> choir and <strong>the</strong> children<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Sunday school <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> front. The church is decorated with <strong>the</strong> Stations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Cross, with statues <strong>of</strong> Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>ts and o<strong>the</strong>r religious symbols. A tree <strong>of</strong> life and<br />
Kabbalah symbols are pa<strong>in</strong>ted on <strong>the</strong> wall at two corners. On special occasions <strong>the</strong><br />
hall conta<strong>in</strong>s o<strong>the</strong>r decorations such as an enormous candle dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> celebration <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> 23rd anniversary <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> foundation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church.<br />
Though <strong>the</strong> first Black Baptist Church was founded <strong>in</strong> North America <strong>in</strong> 1639<br />
<strong>in</strong> Rhode Island (Jacobs 1996: 38), <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church does not<br />
regard itself <strong>in</strong> this tradition but refers to Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago. The first church <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> was founded by a Queen Mo<strong>the</strong>r, Violet Smith, though Reverend<br />
W. <strong>in</strong>sists that he was <strong>the</strong> one who established <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Orisha Baptist<br />
Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>:<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> was very popular among people <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> … Everybody knew Violet<br />
Smith. She opened <strong>the</strong> first church <strong>in</strong> Fulton Street. In 1974, I started my own Church <strong>in</strong><br />
Atlantic Avenue. We have people from Panama, different nations, even Italy. [Question]:<br />
‘You started it?’ [Response]: I didn’t start it. I established it. 26<br />
Though he worked at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g very successfully with <strong>the</strong> Queen Mo<strong>the</strong>r,<br />
Reverend W. was <strong>in</strong>spired by a vision and decided to found his own church <strong>in</strong> honour<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sa<strong>in</strong>t. With <strong>the</strong> help <strong>of</strong> members <strong>of</strong> his church some years later he was able to<br />
buy this house <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn where he has lived and worked ever s<strong>in</strong>ce. Some streets<br />
fur<strong>the</strong>r on he has a small shop where he sells religious paraphernalia. But his ma<strong>in</strong><br />
work is <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> consultations for anybody who is <strong>in</strong> need <strong>of</strong> advice. Indeed, <strong>in</strong> his<br />
church I <strong>of</strong>ten met people from outside his congregation and with different ethnic<br />
backgrounds wait<strong>in</strong>g for consultations with him.<br />
26 Reverend W., personal communication, 22.9.1998.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 47<br />
When <strong>the</strong>y have a problem, <strong>the</strong>y come to <strong>the</strong> Baptist Church … Sometimes <strong>the</strong>y<br />
come when <strong>the</strong>y have a problem that a normal doctor can’t cure. Or <strong>the</strong>y have a great<br />
problem, when <strong>the</strong>y have a child that is very sick. And when <strong>the</strong>y have a child that is out<br />
<strong>of</strong> control, that doesn’t go to school … We pray for <strong>the</strong>m … We have washes. 27<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> my research his congregation had approximately 65 members who<br />
regularly attended <strong>the</strong> services and festivals and became responsible for <strong>the</strong> church<br />
by tak<strong>in</strong>g over certa<strong>in</strong> positions. In addition to this relatively small group a much<br />
larger group attended specific ceremonies, so that <strong>the</strong> whole space <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> church hall<br />
was always occupied by people. The majority were from Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago, some<br />
came from neighbour<strong>in</strong>g islands such as Grenada or o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands such as<br />
Barbados and even Cuba, though <strong>the</strong>re were no <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants <strong>of</strong> Asian descent.<br />
Reverend W. mentioned <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> US Americans and Europeans but I assume<br />
that he saw <strong>the</strong>m <strong>in</strong> private consultation because I got <strong>the</strong> impression that everyone<br />
attend<strong>in</strong>g ceremonies had Afro-<strong>Caribbean</strong> backgrounds. Despite <strong>the</strong> large number <strong>of</strong><br />
people attend<strong>in</strong>g his ceremonies <strong>the</strong> reverend worries about a possible successor. At<br />
<strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> 1998 he <strong>in</strong>troduced a Sunday school for children hop<strong>in</strong>g that this<br />
would <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>the</strong> numbers <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> regular congregation. I ga<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> impression that<br />
<strong>the</strong> community was relatively stable f<strong>in</strong>ancially; <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation<br />
seemed to be middle class or nearly middle class while among <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r people <strong>in</strong><br />
attendance I noticed some who appeared to be more f<strong>in</strong>ancially restricted.<br />
Figure 3.2<br />
Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
27 Ibid.
48<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Figure 3.3<br />
The Altar, Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, Brooklyn<br />
The Congregation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church and its Worldview<br />
The congregation is hierarchically structured. Reverend W. is <strong>the</strong> leader <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
community and controls <strong>the</strong> community with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> church as well as <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> outside<br />
world. His charismatic personality attracts new members and streng<strong>the</strong>ns <strong>the</strong><br />
church’s economic situation. But because one <strong>in</strong>dividual dom<strong>in</strong>ates <strong>the</strong> community,<br />
it is difficult for a potential successor to achieve an outstand<strong>in</strong>g pr<strong>of</strong>ile. No one can<br />
present himself <strong>in</strong> a leadership role <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> community without caus<strong>in</strong>g fragmentation.<br />
The m<strong>in</strong>ister is supported by a Queen Mo<strong>the</strong>r, an elderly and highly respected woman<br />
who is not related to him. Toge<strong>the</strong>r with o<strong>the</strong>r senior mo<strong>the</strong>rs (dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> my<br />
research <strong>the</strong>re were eight senior mo<strong>the</strong>rs) she is <strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> cater<strong>in</strong>g and decorations,<br />
<strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> cook<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sacrificed animals and <strong>the</strong> clean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church and<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r rooms. No m<strong>in</strong>ister can work without a Queen Mo<strong>the</strong>r I was told. When I<br />
asked about gender division, Reverend W. said that women can also tra<strong>in</strong> to become<br />
m<strong>in</strong>isters but accord<strong>in</strong>g to my impression that is a recent development. I was told<br />
once that <strong>the</strong>re is a female m<strong>in</strong>ister <strong>in</strong> Queens though <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> literature I have not been<br />
able to f<strong>in</strong>d any such references. The congregation seemed to be quite conservative<br />
and is divided accord<strong>in</strong>g to gender. The position <strong>of</strong> Queen Mo<strong>the</strong>r seemed to be<br />
regarded as identical to <strong>the</strong> position <strong>of</strong> ‘reverend’ though some communities such<br />
as <strong>the</strong> one I visited regularly were quite patriarchal. The congregation esteems male<br />
and female members slightly differently, which was even expressed geographically:<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> celebration <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> anniversary <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church <strong>the</strong> reverend and his male<br />
guests <strong>of</strong> honour sat near <strong>the</strong> altar on <strong>the</strong> podium while <strong>the</strong> ‘queen mo<strong>the</strong>r’ with <strong>the</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>r mo<strong>the</strong>rs sat on chairs <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> platform (see Figure 3.4). None<strong>the</strong>less,
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 49<br />
<strong>the</strong> position <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se mo<strong>the</strong>rs serves as a form <strong>of</strong> empowerment for women <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
community. It raises <strong>the</strong> prestige <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> women, which is even visible through <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
dress code (for example <strong>the</strong> colour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir head scarves). Though <strong>the</strong>y are below<br />
<strong>the</strong> male m<strong>in</strong>ister and o<strong>the</strong>r male leaders <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> hierarchy, everyone else has to show<br />
<strong>the</strong>m respect; even male family members respect <strong>the</strong> authority <strong>of</strong> a ritual mo<strong>the</strong>r<br />
even if she is <strong>in</strong> daily life ‘just’ a cous<strong>in</strong> or a younger sister.<br />
Even more attention is given to <strong>the</strong> age <strong>of</strong> a person and to <strong>the</strong> position <strong>the</strong>y<br />
occupy <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation. The latter status is connected to <strong>the</strong>ir position with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
community, for <strong>in</strong>stance be<strong>in</strong>g a secretary, a musician, a teacher at <strong>the</strong> Sunday school<br />
or a butcher for <strong>the</strong> religious sacrifice 28 carries certa<strong>in</strong> prestige with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> community.<br />
Every elder <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation, whe<strong>the</strong>r this is based on age or on religious position,<br />
expects and receives respect from younger members, even if this person does not have<br />
a high religious status. Reverend W. hopes that <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> this congregation show<br />
respect towards any elders, whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y belong to <strong>the</strong> ritual family or to <strong>the</strong> blood<br />
family, so that <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> his congregation become better human be<strong>in</strong>gs. 29<br />
Figure 3.4<br />
Leaders <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, Brooklyn<br />
Apart from <strong>the</strong>se positions that are based on secular aspects, <strong>the</strong>re is a way<br />
to receive a higher status based on a religious experience. Every believer who<br />
has experienced a vision dur<strong>in</strong>g a spiritual rebirth, a so-called mourn<strong>in</strong>g, will<br />
28 Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> my research this position was unoccupied.<br />
29 The members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation belong to two different k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> k<strong>in</strong>ship networks,<br />
<strong>the</strong> blood k<strong>in</strong>ship and <strong>the</strong> ritual k<strong>in</strong>ship; both systems are not necessarily connected. The ritual<br />
k<strong>in</strong>ship is based on religious rituals such as be<strong>in</strong>g godmo<strong>the</strong>r or godfa<strong>the</strong>r at a rite <strong>of</strong> passage.
50<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
automatically receive a higher position. This religious baptism is <strong>the</strong> central<br />
<strong>in</strong>dividual experience among Spiritual Baptists. It is accessible for any believer and<br />
not connected to a certa<strong>in</strong> position though afterwards this person will ga<strong>in</strong> a different<br />
status despite <strong>the</strong>ir age or former position. The experience <strong>of</strong> a spiritual rebirth leads<br />
to <strong>the</strong> achievement <strong>of</strong> authority <strong>in</strong> any religious matter. Often my questions about <strong>the</strong><br />
mean<strong>in</strong>g or background <strong>of</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> practices were directed towards <strong>the</strong> Queen Mo<strong>the</strong>r<br />
because <strong>of</strong> her religious authority, and she would <strong>the</strong>n direct me to <strong>the</strong> reverend as<br />
<strong>the</strong> leader <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community.<br />
Despite a certa<strong>in</strong> resistance to answer<strong>in</strong>g questions on religious matters, <strong>the</strong><br />
members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation reacted quite positively to my presence. After <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>ister<br />
<strong>in</strong>troduced me dur<strong>in</strong>g a service and <strong>in</strong>formed <strong>the</strong> congregation that I would be ask<strong>in</strong>g<br />
questions <strong>in</strong> order to understand <strong>the</strong>ir religion, my presence was accepted. Despite<br />
be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> only White person, I was treated as any o<strong>the</strong>r ignorant person who had to<br />
be <strong>in</strong>formed about certa<strong>in</strong> rules and regulations. For <strong>in</strong>stance, when I arrived one very<br />
cold even<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> clo<strong>the</strong>s that <strong>the</strong> women regarded as <strong>in</strong>appropriate for <strong>the</strong> ceremony to<br />
take place that night, I was – very politely – asked to change <strong>in</strong>to someth<strong>in</strong>g a woman<br />
lent me. Apart from this <strong>in</strong>cident I was <strong>of</strong>ten ignored but also observed and protected. 30<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> breaks we spoke about personal th<strong>in</strong>gs or about general aspects <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>ir religion which all members were will<strong>in</strong>g to discuss with me. Only <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ological<br />
questions concern<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> religious mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> practices were always directed<br />
to people with more authority, because members were not allowed to speak about<br />
certa<strong>in</strong> religious matters with non-members or non-believers.<br />
The central religious rite <strong>of</strong> passage among Spiritual Baptists is <strong>the</strong> mourn<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
though Reverend W. <strong>in</strong>sists that it is not necessary to experience this <strong>in</strong> order to<br />
occupy a position <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation. To experience a spiritual rebirth is <strong>the</strong> free<br />
choice <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>itiate whose experiences differ from those <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong>itiates. When<br />
I asked about any tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g he mentioned <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ology at Medgar Evers<br />
College which is part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>City</strong> University <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, though <strong>the</strong> vision dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> spiritual rebirth is also important. For <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> seven-day fast<strong>in</strong>g which leads<br />
to visions enables <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiate to speak <strong>in</strong> tongues: ‘When somebody fasts, <strong>the</strong>y speak<br />
<strong>in</strong> Ch<strong>in</strong>ese … [or] <strong>in</strong> Ibo.’ 31 The whole community participates at <strong>the</strong> mourn<strong>in</strong>g<br />
though only a few members are actively <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> ceremony.<br />
This aspect is connected to <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious worldview.<br />
Though Spiritual Baptists are Christians, <strong>the</strong>ir ma<strong>in</strong> feature is not <strong>the</strong> belief <strong>in</strong> a<br />
mono<strong>the</strong>istic God but <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> ability to communicate with <strong>the</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e through <strong>the</strong> Holy<br />
Spirit. As Reverend W. said: ‘Manifestation is part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion.’ 32 The Spiritual<br />
Baptists trace this ability as well as <strong>the</strong> baptism <strong>of</strong> adults back to John <strong>the</strong> Baptist.<br />
The term Shouter refers to <strong>the</strong> impressive practice <strong>of</strong> call<strong>in</strong>g down <strong>the</strong> Holy Spirit,<br />
regarded as an <strong>in</strong>dependent part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> holy tr<strong>in</strong>ity, dur<strong>in</strong>g a service. The mono<strong>the</strong>istic<br />
god ga<strong>in</strong>s a poly<strong>the</strong>istic expression because <strong>the</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e can manifest <strong>in</strong> different<br />
ways. Apart from <strong>the</strong> tr<strong>in</strong>ity with God, Jesus and <strong>the</strong> Holy Spirit as separate entities<br />
30 When dur<strong>in</strong>g my first visit to a spiritual ceremony my glasses were accidentally<br />
dropped on <strong>the</strong> floor some women immediately came to me <strong>in</strong> order to protect me.<br />
31 Reverend W. personal communication, 22.9.1998.<br />
32 Ibid.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 51<br />
with <strong>the</strong>ir own responsibilities, <strong>in</strong> this religious worldview <strong>the</strong>re are several o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
div<strong>in</strong>e be<strong>in</strong>gs who act. These are similar to Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>ts and act as <strong>in</strong>termediaries<br />
between human be<strong>in</strong>gs and God. The Spiritual Baptists dist<strong>in</strong>guish between several<br />
groups <strong>of</strong> spiritual be<strong>in</strong>gs who should (<strong>the</strong>oretically) manifest <strong>the</strong>mselves <strong>in</strong> a certa<strong>in</strong><br />
order but, as Glazier has already stated for Tr<strong>in</strong>idad, spirits do not always behave as<br />
<strong>the</strong>y should (1983: 24.). Accord<strong>in</strong>g to my observations <strong>the</strong> believers <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> celebrate separate festivals for <strong>the</strong> different groups <strong>of</strong> spiritual be<strong>in</strong>gs though<br />
<strong>the</strong>y sometimes did not act as <strong>the</strong>y were supposed to. The migrants do not consider<br />
<strong>the</strong> hierarchical order <strong>of</strong> spiritual be<strong>in</strong>gs to be as important as it is <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and<br />
Tobago. Every be<strong>in</strong>g has its positive and its negative aspects. Some believers are<br />
able to manipulate <strong>the</strong>m because spirits have human characteristics.<br />
The target <strong>of</strong> salvation is oriented towards this world, <strong>the</strong> here and now. The believers<br />
are look<strong>in</strong>g for solutions to worldly problems. Life after death and ideas about heaven<br />
and hell are <strong>of</strong> m<strong>in</strong>or importance. Spiritual Baptists as well as o<strong>the</strong>r Christian groups<br />
<strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago have quite a pragmatic attitude though <strong>the</strong>y are – as Glazier<br />
confirms (1983: 33) – none<strong>the</strong>less Christians, though <strong>in</strong> a different way.<br />
Spiritual Baptists regard <strong>the</strong>mselves as Protestants who emphasize <strong>the</strong> tr<strong>in</strong>ity<br />
and <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Bible as God’s words, despite <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>corporation <strong>of</strong><br />
various elements <strong>of</strong> popular Catholicism such as <strong>the</strong> worship <strong>of</strong> sa<strong>in</strong>ts, some <strong>in</strong><br />
African or even H<strong>in</strong>du images. The diversity <strong>of</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e be<strong>in</strong>gs which is part <strong>of</strong> all<br />
<strong>the</strong> Baptist churches <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> (though to different<br />
degrees) is not part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> conventional Baptist belief system but typical for <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong>. However, <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Baptist churches <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> do not<br />
fit <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> religious schema <strong>of</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago that is <strong>of</strong>ten portrayed as<br />
divided <strong>in</strong>to orthodox and unorthodox, Protestant and Catholic, African and H<strong>in</strong>du.<br />
Pearl E<strong>in</strong>tou Spr<strong>in</strong>ger, for <strong>in</strong>stance, denies <strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> Shango Baptists on<br />
<strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ological arguments (1995: 100), though <strong>the</strong> ceremony that I saw <strong>in</strong><br />
October 1998 <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn was precisely a Shango Baptist ceremony. At several<br />
consecutive even<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>the</strong> congregation celebrated so-called Shango festivals <strong>in</strong>side<br />
<strong>the</strong> church hall. Every night African deities manifested <strong>the</strong>mselves <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> body<br />
<strong>of</strong> believers <strong>in</strong> order to be worshiped with <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs and music. I participated at<br />
colourful and vibrant festivals which took place until dawn. For <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
congregation <strong>the</strong>se festivals were as important as <strong>the</strong> Baptist services on Sunday.<br />
The church hall was filled with more people than usual. Every night <strong>the</strong> sacrifices<br />
for <strong>the</strong> deities who were called down with drums and s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g became larger. The<br />
festivals also <strong>in</strong>dicated that <strong>the</strong> belief system <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants is open and<br />
not restricted by any <strong>the</strong>ological doctr<strong>in</strong>e. Whoever appears is greeted and asked<br />
for help if possible. The religious practice is a mixture <strong>of</strong> various elements which<br />
Reverend W. described as a religious mélange: ‘We use Catholic prayers … We use<br />
Pentecostal prayers. We put anyth<strong>in</strong>g toge<strong>the</strong>r.’ 33<br />
Though fewer people attend <strong>the</strong> regular Sunday services, <strong>the</strong>y are never<strong>the</strong>less<br />
important for belong<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> community. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> services, which are <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
followed by communal lunches, <strong>the</strong> members discuss important issues for <strong>the</strong><br />
community, give out awards to some members and organize <strong>the</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g weeks.<br />
33 Ibid.
52<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
These services follow more or less <strong>the</strong> usual Protestant order though with <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>fluences. Some members feel, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Holy Spirit who is<br />
called by loud s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g and music, but rarely <strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r div<strong>in</strong>e be<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> service <strong>the</strong> reverend is supported by o<strong>the</strong>r members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church, <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
people who occupy certa<strong>in</strong> positions <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> church or want to ga<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>m.<br />
Apart from <strong>the</strong> Baptist services and <strong>the</strong> Shango festivals, which are also celebrated<br />
for o<strong>the</strong>r orishas (African deities), <strong>the</strong>re is a third category <strong>of</strong> ritual celebrated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
church, though <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement: Kabbalah ceremonies. These are also important for<br />
<strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> congregation though normally <strong>the</strong>y do not <strong>in</strong>vite non-members to<br />
attend. It was very <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g for me to participate at all three types <strong>of</strong> ceremony.<br />
The Sunday service was well attended but not as crowded as <strong>the</strong> Shango festivals<br />
to which several people were specially <strong>in</strong>vited. The regular members prepared<br />
special food and decorations; <strong>the</strong>re was even a specific dress code dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>se<br />
festivals. At <strong>the</strong> Kabbalah ceremonies people attended ma<strong>in</strong>ly <strong>in</strong> black clo<strong>the</strong>s and<br />
only a few non-members were allowed to participate. Even <strong>the</strong> mood was different.<br />
The Sunday service was usually held <strong>in</strong> a holiday mood while <strong>the</strong> mood dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> Shango festival was vibrant, euphoric and at <strong>the</strong> Kabbalah ritual dark, almost<br />
threaten<strong>in</strong>g. Common to all large ceremonies was <strong>the</strong> communal meal afterwards<br />
(<strong>of</strong>ten at dawn), as well as <strong>the</strong> great importance <strong>of</strong> music <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> form <strong>of</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g and<br />
drumm<strong>in</strong>g. Music can <strong>in</strong>troduce spiritual experiences, <strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> deities<br />
as well as speak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> tongues. Hence, music is not ‘an ornamental, complementary<br />
yet essentially re<strong>in</strong>forc<strong>in</strong>g element <strong>of</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> religious practice’, but has ‘organic<br />
functionality’ as Gerard Béhague po<strong>in</strong>ts out (1984b: 223).<br />
The Integration <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church with its Surround<strong>in</strong>gs<br />
The history <strong>of</strong> one church, <strong>in</strong> particular such an ‘undogmatic’ and flexible one as<br />
<strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, cannot be representative <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
religion <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. None<strong>the</strong>less <strong>the</strong>re are some general characteristics one can<br />
glean by look<strong>in</strong>g at one community. Spiritual Baptists are difficult to categorize.<br />
They are extremely conservative <strong>in</strong> some aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir belief system, and at <strong>the</strong><br />
same time flexible and rigid, heterodox as well as orthodox (see Glazier 1983: 33).<br />
I can make <strong>the</strong> same observation about <strong>the</strong> attitude <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> believers <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong>, re<strong>in</strong>forced by <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants. All <strong>the</strong> elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> belief<br />
system <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn are from <strong>the</strong> islands, but <strong>the</strong>ir comb<strong>in</strong>ation has<br />
been created because <strong>of</strong> migration. Some communities on <strong>the</strong> islands have <strong>in</strong>cluded,<br />
for <strong>in</strong>stance, H<strong>in</strong>du or Kabbalah elements <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir belief systems, though most<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> time <strong>the</strong>se elements occupy <strong>the</strong> boundaries <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> system and are regarded<br />
as exceptional. In Brooklyn <strong>the</strong> community has streng<strong>the</strong>ned <strong>the</strong> elements and<br />
<strong>in</strong>corporated <strong>the</strong>m <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> already heterogeneous system represent<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> experiences<br />
and needs <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants with<strong>in</strong> a new environment. It has created a web<br />
between conservative moral attitudes and open-m<strong>in</strong>ded belief systems that has<br />
satisfied <strong>the</strong> expectations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants as well as <strong>the</strong> needs <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> environment.<br />
Influences are, <strong>of</strong> course, not <strong>in</strong>cluded without consideration. Only elements that<br />
<strong>of</strong>fered someth<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> migrants were <strong>in</strong>cluded. If not useful, <strong>the</strong>y are denied or<br />
later rejected. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> period <strong>of</strong> my research Reverend W. tried to cooperate with
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 53<br />
Puerto Rican santeros and santeras (<strong>in</strong>itiated practitioners <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cuban religion<br />
Santería), but this collaboration was still <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> first ‘test phase’. Elements <strong>of</strong> Haitian<br />
Vodou were rejected as too powerful or even obscene, though dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth<br />
century several Vodou priests and believers immigrated to Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> group <strong>of</strong> freed slaves, so that Glazier assumes certa<strong>in</strong> Vodou <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Shouter religion. 34 Despite <strong>the</strong> negative relationship between <strong>the</strong> two religions <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>the</strong>re is still a possibility that this will change. In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
both religions can operate much more openly than <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago, so that<br />
it is possible that Spiritual Baptists might <strong>in</strong>clude Vodou elements <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir system <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> future, as <strong>the</strong>y have done with o<strong>the</strong>r elements when <strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>fer help or heal<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
If <strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> a Rada-spirit promises success, its appearance can become<br />
accepted dur<strong>in</strong>g a Spiritual Baptist ceremony.<br />
The community is also adapt<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>stitutional level. Despite a different<br />
attitude <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago, Reverend W. decided to proceed with <strong>of</strong>ficial<br />
registration as a church, hence seek<strong>in</strong>g state acceptance. He is proud that his religion<br />
is treated as a normal church <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, especially while it still suffers from a<br />
negative image <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonial history. He mentioned<br />
that he has tried for a long time to establish a good relationship with o<strong>the</strong>r religions.<br />
He expla<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> difficulties <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago with <strong>the</strong> African elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
religion that are still regarded <strong>in</strong> a negative way. But, as Pearl E<strong>in</strong>tou Spr<strong>in</strong>ger says,<br />
‘<strong>the</strong> recognition <strong>of</strong> African religion is <strong>the</strong> ultimate step <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> reclamation <strong>of</strong> self for<br />
<strong>the</strong> diaspora Africa’ (1995: 91). In <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> <strong>the</strong> situation was changed by <strong>the</strong> civil<br />
rights movement, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> African-American neighbourhoods. Today, <strong>the</strong><br />
presentation <strong>of</strong> an African identity <strong>in</strong> a predom<strong>in</strong>antly European-American society<br />
is more highly regarded than <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1950s. Despite <strong>the</strong> tensions between <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
migrants and African-Americans <strong>the</strong> common dream <strong>of</strong> a pan-African identity is <strong>the</strong><br />
daily lived pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> common African roots.<br />
Never<strong>the</strong>less, Pan-Africanism has only m<strong>in</strong>or relevance for <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
congregation whose ma<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>tention is <strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> new environment comb<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
with relationship to <strong>the</strong>ir country <strong>of</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>. It is exactly this function that fills <strong>the</strong> church<br />
hall with practitioners. The church manages to build a bridge to Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago<br />
emotionally through <strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> common language (Patios), music (<strong>in</strong> particular<br />
drum rhythm and s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g) and <strong>of</strong> course <strong>the</strong> endless private conversations before and<br />
after <strong>the</strong> services and festivals. <strong>New</strong>s from <strong>the</strong> islands, <strong>of</strong> political as well as private<br />
events, is discussed <strong>in</strong> nearly endless dialogues. The community <strong>of</strong>fers migrants a<br />
network <strong>of</strong> connections as well as an emotional collect<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>in</strong> a stressful time,<br />
particularly for newcomers. But it is not a replacement <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> family, as with o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
migrant religions, because blood relationship is more highly valued than ritual k<strong>in</strong>ship.<br />
If no relative lives <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> new environment, and <strong>the</strong> problem cannot be solved from a<br />
distance, <strong>the</strong>n <strong>the</strong> church can fulfil this function. Hence, despite <strong>the</strong> strong role <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
leader <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion is <strong>the</strong> collective entity, <strong>the</strong> congregation. Without <strong>the</strong><br />
34 Glazier describes Vodou as a very rigid system. This is not true for Vodou <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
as I will show later. Glazier also argues that both Vodou and Shango, <strong>the</strong> African form <strong>of</strong> Spiritual<br />
Baptists, are similar <strong>in</strong> regard to <strong>the</strong>ir non-respectable status <strong>in</strong> society. Hence, his argument that<br />
Baptists took over Vodou as a cover up, does not seen likely to me. See Glazier 1983: 34.
54<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
collective religious experience <strong>the</strong> religion does not exist. The place <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>dividual<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e cosmos is def<strong>in</strong>ed by <strong>the</strong> religious community. Spiritual Baptists cannot<br />
understand how a person can exist without belong<strong>in</strong>g to a religious community, without<br />
participat<strong>in</strong>g regularly <strong>in</strong> ceremonies. They accept without any problems members <strong>of</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>r communities, even those <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r confessions, only people who do not belong to<br />
a community are regarded with suspicion.<br />
The ma<strong>in</strong> aim <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community is <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>the</strong> spiritual care <strong>of</strong> its members as<br />
dist<strong>in</strong>ct from <strong>the</strong> f<strong>in</strong>ancial attitude <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal. Though <strong>the</strong> leaders are<br />
f<strong>in</strong>ancially supported by <strong>the</strong> members <strong>the</strong>ir ma<strong>in</strong> goal is not expansion or f<strong>in</strong>ancial<br />
success. The organization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> festivals takes much <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pr<strong>of</strong>it; none<strong>the</strong>less <strong>the</strong>y<br />
are important for <strong>the</strong> community. Reverend W. is open to outsiders and spends most<br />
<strong>of</strong> his time <strong>in</strong> consultation but he does not promote his activity. Even <strong>the</strong> handouts<br />
for <strong>the</strong> festivals are ma<strong>in</strong>ly for members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation and <strong>the</strong>ir families<br />
and friends. The festivals fit well <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> schedule <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r festivals that are also<br />
celebrated for o<strong>the</strong>r def<strong>in</strong>ed communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. Apparently Spiritual Baptists,<br />
as Protestants, have fewer problems <strong>in</strong> adapt<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong>ly protestant US society<br />
than <strong>the</strong> next two religions discussed.<br />
The Société la Belle Venus II<br />
The next religious community has not (yet) decided to register as a church but its<br />
leader was consider<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> possibility <strong>of</strong> do<strong>in</strong>g so dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> my research,<br />
ma<strong>in</strong>ly because <strong>of</strong> tax benefits. The community consisted <strong>of</strong> only one group, <strong>the</strong><br />
Vodou temple La Belle Venus II that was founded some years before by a Haitian<br />
mambo, a Vodou priestess, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement <strong>of</strong> her house <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn. The temple’s<br />
name <strong>in</strong>cludes a reference to a temple <strong>in</strong> Haiti where <strong>the</strong> priestess herself was<br />
<strong>in</strong>itiated. Though Vodou still has a negative image <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> it has ga<strong>in</strong>ed some<br />
acceptance <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last few years. The basis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community is Haitian migrants<br />
and <strong>the</strong>ir children, but <strong>the</strong> number <strong>of</strong> non-Haitians is <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g. Vodou is one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
religions most open to non-<strong>Caribbean</strong>s.<br />
The History <strong>of</strong> Vodou <strong>in</strong> Haiti<br />
The history <strong>of</strong> Vodou reflects <strong>the</strong> ambivalent relationship <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> first Black Republic<br />
to its surround<strong>in</strong>gs and its <strong>in</strong>ternal problems. Though Vodou was already <strong>in</strong> existence<br />
before <strong>the</strong> successful slave upris<strong>in</strong>g and <strong>in</strong>dependence from France, <strong>the</strong> connection<br />
to <strong>the</strong> rebellion <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> reception <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion and its worldview, which<br />
outsiders perceive as exotic. 35 The term ‘Vodou’ describes a religion with roots <strong>in</strong><br />
Africa but which was created <strong>in</strong> America, precisely on <strong>the</strong> part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> islands that is<br />
today called Haiti. In part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> West African state <strong>of</strong> Ben<strong>in</strong>, <strong>the</strong> former k<strong>in</strong>gdom<br />
<strong>of</strong> Dahomey, <strong>the</strong> term ‘vodou’ was used for ancestors or o<strong>the</strong>r spirits who were<br />
worshiped <strong>in</strong> specific cults. Every social group, hence every family, association,<br />
35 In this part I refer ma<strong>in</strong>ly to Laënnec Hurbon and his books on Vodou. See, for<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance, Hurbon 1972, 1995a.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 55<br />
village, town and so on, worshipped its own spirit. Only through migration from <strong>the</strong><br />
countryside to urban areas did <strong>the</strong> cult <strong>of</strong> a ‘vodou’ move <strong>in</strong>to o<strong>the</strong>r regions, where it<br />
ga<strong>in</strong>ed new worshippers. Later, <strong>the</strong> tribal religion developed <strong>in</strong>to a complex system <strong>of</strong><br />
beliefs and practices <strong>in</strong> Haiti because <strong>of</strong> its suppression dur<strong>in</strong>g slavery. None<strong>the</strong>less,<br />
it is regarded with suspicion by outsiders even today. Melville Herskovits, one <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> first non-Haitians to conduct anthropological research <strong>in</strong> rural Haiti <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1930s<br />
(dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> US occupation), wrote about Vodou:<br />
More than any o<strong>the</strong>r s<strong>in</strong>gle term, <strong>the</strong> word ‘voodoo’ is called to m<strong>in</strong>d whenever mention<br />
is made <strong>of</strong> Haiti. Conceived as a grim system <strong>of</strong> African practices, it has come to be<br />
identified with fantastic and cruel rites and to serve as a symbol <strong>of</strong> dar<strong>in</strong>g excursions <strong>in</strong>to<br />
<strong>the</strong> esoteric. Not only has emphasis been placed on its frenzied rites and <strong>the</strong> cannibalism<br />
supposed on occasion to accompany <strong>the</strong>m, but its dark mysteries <strong>of</strong> magic and ‘zombie’<br />
have been so stressed that it has become customary to th<strong>in</strong>k <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Haitians as liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a<br />
universe <strong>of</strong> psychological terror. (1964: 139)<br />
Because <strong>of</strong> many biased publications about Vodou it is difficult to understand <strong>the</strong><br />
religious concept <strong>of</strong> Vodou or even to approach believers impartially. Accord<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to Sidney M<strong>in</strong>tz and Michel-Rolph Trouillot <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> problem is that Vodou was<br />
created by many <strong>in</strong>dividuals from various cultures over centuries, and that Vodou has<br />
no written doctr<strong>in</strong>es and no national <strong>in</strong>stitutional structure (1995: 123). The middle<br />
passage created an <strong>in</strong>dividualization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> enslaved Africans who were forced out<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir social context, transported toge<strong>the</strong>r with people from o<strong>the</strong>r groups under<br />
horrible circumstances over <strong>the</strong> ocean and <strong>the</strong>n had to work toge<strong>the</strong>r with o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
slaves under <strong>in</strong>human conditions until <strong>the</strong>ir death <strong>in</strong> a hostile environment. 36 Though<br />
African people were transported to Santo Dom<strong>in</strong>go, <strong>the</strong> Spanish name for <strong>the</strong> colony,<br />
as early as 1503, <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> Vodou can be traced back only to <strong>the</strong> French period<br />
<strong>of</strong> suppression which started <strong>of</strong>ficially <strong>in</strong> 1697. Under French rule <strong>the</strong> number <strong>of</strong><br />
Africans <strong>in</strong>creased dramatically. In 1685 <strong>the</strong> French government announced <strong>the</strong> Code<br />
Noir which <strong>of</strong>ficially regulated <strong>the</strong> treatment <strong>of</strong> slaves <strong>in</strong> French colonies. The Code<br />
Noir ordered, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> baptism <strong>of</strong> every slave and prohibited <strong>the</strong> practice<br />
<strong>of</strong> any religions apart from Catholicism. Any meet<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> slaves was also prohibited<br />
because <strong>of</strong> fear <strong>of</strong> slave upris<strong>in</strong>gs. Enslaved Africans <strong>the</strong>refore started to adapt<br />
Catholic rites and re<strong>in</strong>terpreted <strong>the</strong>m accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir own traditions. In this sense<br />
Catholicism acted as a masque for <strong>the</strong>ir beliefs and practices (see Hurbon 1972: 77).<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> first part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> eighteenth century, shortly before <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
slave trade over <strong>the</strong> Atlantic, a large number <strong>of</strong> enslaved people from <strong>the</strong> k<strong>in</strong>gdom<br />
<strong>of</strong> Dahomey arrived <strong>in</strong> Sa<strong>in</strong>t Dom<strong>in</strong>gue, <strong>the</strong> French name <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> colony, among<br />
<strong>the</strong>m many Fon who were <strong>in</strong>fluence by Yoruba (Hurbon 1995a: 21). Despite <strong>the</strong><br />
prohibition <strong>the</strong> enslaved Africans managed to practise some religious rites <strong>in</strong> secret<br />
so that some African traditions, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Fon and Yoruba, survived <strong>the</strong><br />
time <strong>of</strong> suppression.<br />
From <strong>the</strong> start <strong>the</strong> enslaved Africans fought aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong>ir oppression vehemently,<br />
some passively, for <strong>in</strong>stance by refus<strong>in</strong>g to work or to obey, and some actively, by<br />
36 See M<strong>in</strong>tz and Price 1992 for <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> birth <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> African-American<br />
culture; for <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividualization process, see pp. 42–3.
56<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
runn<strong>in</strong>g away, murder<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir masters, or suicide. François Makandal, a maroon who<br />
disrupted <strong>the</strong> colonial powers by murder<strong>in</strong>g several slave masters and civil servants<br />
with poison and by liberat<strong>in</strong>g a large number <strong>of</strong> enslaved people, is still celebrated<br />
<strong>in</strong> Haiti as a national hero. He handed out garde-corps (talismans) as protection<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st weapons, though unsuccessfully: <strong>in</strong> 1758 he was sentenced to death. But his<br />
death did not end <strong>the</strong> rebellion, quite <strong>the</strong> opposite; it only started an endless cha<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>surgences that caused great alarm among <strong>the</strong> few White <strong>in</strong>habitants. At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> eighteenth century <strong>the</strong>re was somewhere between 400,000 and 500,000 enslaved<br />
people as opposed to 40,000 White (and free) citizens and approximately 25,000 free<br />
Blacks or mulattos. At that time Sa<strong>in</strong>t Dom<strong>in</strong>gue controlled one-third <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> French<br />
trade, and <strong>the</strong>refore was one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most economically successful <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> French<br />
colonies. Though <strong>the</strong> French settlers founded freemasonic lodges <strong>in</strong> Sa<strong>in</strong>t Dom<strong>in</strong>gue,<br />
<strong>the</strong>y made sure that <strong>the</strong> liberal doctr<strong>in</strong>es did not spread to <strong>the</strong> suppressed people<br />
(Hurbon 1995a: 41–2). None<strong>the</strong>less <strong>the</strong> enslaved people adapted some freemasonic<br />
elements and comb<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong>m toge<strong>the</strong>r with elements from <strong>in</strong>digenous traditions and<br />
<strong>the</strong> worship <strong>of</strong> African deities, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong> Dahomey spirits. At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
eighteenth century <strong>the</strong>se spiritual entities were already divided <strong>in</strong>to nanchos (nations),<br />
were called lwa <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> vodou, and also identified with <strong>the</strong> names <strong>of</strong> Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>ts.<br />
Thus one can assume that already at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> eighteenth century a mixture <strong>of</strong><br />
various African religions with popular Catholicism and o<strong>the</strong>r elements from <strong>in</strong>digenous<br />
religions and freemasonry existed (Hurbon 1995a: 31). However, one can doubt <strong>the</strong><br />
existence <strong>of</strong> a homogeneous system <strong>of</strong> beliefs and practices at this early stage.<br />
After <strong>the</strong> French revolution and <strong>the</strong> declaration <strong>of</strong> human rights more and more<br />
resistance aga<strong>in</strong>st slavery occurred. In 1791 <strong>the</strong> maroon Boukman Dutty called for<br />
a general upris<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> all enslaved people, which <strong>in</strong> 1804 ended <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> declaration <strong>of</strong><br />
Haiti as an <strong>in</strong>dependent state. The Black Republic, as Haiti was <strong>of</strong>ten called, was<br />
<strong>the</strong> second <strong>in</strong>dependent state <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Americas, and represented <strong>the</strong> only successful<br />
slave upris<strong>in</strong>g. None<strong>the</strong>less its neighbours did not praise Haiti’s success but regarded<br />
<strong>the</strong> island with fear. From <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rebellion <strong>in</strong> 1791 flee<strong>in</strong>g Europeans<br />
spread rumours about ‘savage Blacks’ who were violent and cruel, greedy for<br />
revenge and blood, who would rape and slaughter White women and set plantations<br />
on fire, forc<strong>in</strong>g harmless settlers to flee (Hurbon 1995a: 43). When <strong>the</strong> rumour was<br />
spread that <strong>the</strong> leader <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rebellion, Boukman, was an oungan (a Vodou priest)<br />
who conducted a Vodou ceremony to start <strong>the</strong> rebellion <strong>in</strong> Bois Caïman, 37 settlers<br />
on all <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands became hysterical. 38 As a result Black sailors, for <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
had to be cha<strong>in</strong>ed when <strong>the</strong>ir ships were <strong>in</strong> harbour, without regard to <strong>the</strong>ir status<br />
or background; ships com<strong>in</strong>g from Haiti were not allowed to anchor <strong>in</strong> any harbour<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>; and all reunions <strong>of</strong> enslaved people were radically prohibited. 39<br />
Today it is not certa<strong>in</strong> whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong> ceremony <strong>in</strong> Bois Caïman really took place.<br />
Léon-François H<strong>of</strong>fmann, for <strong>in</strong>stance, doubts its existence because <strong>the</strong> first written<br />
description was published <strong>in</strong> 1814 <strong>in</strong> Histoire de la révolution de Sa<strong>in</strong>t-Dom<strong>in</strong>gue<br />
37 Several sources call <strong>the</strong> ceremony or <strong>the</strong> location Bois Caïman.<br />
38 See Schmidt 2001a for <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> (imag<strong>in</strong>ed) connection between Vodou<br />
and cannibalism.<br />
39 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Götz 1995 for <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> consequences <strong>in</strong> Jamaica.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 57<br />
and was based on <strong>the</strong> statements <strong>of</strong> prisoners taken days after <strong>the</strong> ceremony<br />
(1996: 36). 40 The author <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> book was <strong>the</strong> French medical doctor Anto<strong>in</strong>e Dalmas<br />
who fled to <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> after <strong>the</strong> French defeat, where he wrote down his memories <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> rebellion between 1793 and 1794, to be published <strong>in</strong> 1814 <strong>in</strong> France. Whe<strong>the</strong>r<br />
Dalmas spiced up his memoirs or not, his description spread <strong>the</strong> ‘knowledge’ about<br />
a bloody ritual before <strong>the</strong> rebellion, and succeed<strong>in</strong>g authors <strong>in</strong>cluded even more<br />
details <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> story. Though Dalmas never used <strong>the</strong> term Vodou, his description was<br />
identified with Vodou later on and created an unbreakable connection between <strong>the</strong><br />
rebellion and Vodou which came to be considered dangerous for outsiders.<br />
After <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dependence <strong>of</strong> Haiti <strong>the</strong> government, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong> Creole middle<br />
and upper classes who were oriented towards French traditions, tried to separate<br />
Haiti from Vodou and its negative stereotypes. In 1835 president Jean-Pierre Boyer<br />
prohibited Vodou as superstition. Though <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church was rarely represented<br />
<strong>in</strong> Haiti until <strong>the</strong> concordat <strong>in</strong> 1860, <strong>the</strong> Haitian rul<strong>in</strong>g class tried to proclaim Haiti a<br />
Catholic country. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> diffidence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church allowed Vodou<br />
to stabilize as a religion and <strong>the</strong> relationship between <strong>the</strong> two religions to settle<br />
(M<strong>in</strong>tz and Trouillot 1995: 139). The massive land reform <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> first decades after<br />
<strong>in</strong>dependence restructured Haiti, transform<strong>in</strong>g it <strong>in</strong>to a rural country. In <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century Vodou was established as a ‘familial system <strong>of</strong> ancestral belief,<br />
tied to <strong>the</strong> land and, through <strong>the</strong> land and through <strong>the</strong> lwa, to <strong>the</strong> past’ (M<strong>in</strong>tz and<br />
Trouillot 1995: 141). Countryside, k<strong>in</strong>ship and cult seemed to become <strong>in</strong>destructibly<br />
connected. In <strong>the</strong> eyes <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> educated urban Creoles Vodou became a symbol <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> uneducated rural population until <strong>the</strong> occupation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> US mar<strong>in</strong>es <strong>in</strong> 1915, an<br />
event referred to, <strong>the</strong>n and now, as le choc. This occupation, which lasted until 1934,<br />
radically changed <strong>the</strong> social structure <strong>of</strong> Haiti. One effect was <strong>the</strong> establishment<br />
<strong>of</strong> a Black middle class, which <strong>in</strong>creased <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> rural culture. Despite <strong>the</strong><br />
proclamation <strong>of</strong> equal rights for all people <strong>the</strong> urban elite was oriented towards<br />
<strong>the</strong> European <strong>in</strong>tellectuals and rejected <strong>the</strong> rural tradition. But because <strong>of</strong> le choc<br />
some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lay-ethnographers <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘<strong>in</strong>digenist movement’ started to <strong>in</strong>vestigate<br />
<strong>the</strong> rural culture and Vodou, and <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion f<strong>in</strong>ally improved <strong>in</strong> Haiti.<br />
In particular <strong>the</strong> farmers suffered under <strong>the</strong> occupation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> US mar<strong>in</strong>es because<br />
<strong>the</strong>y were forced to do unpaid work, sometimes even <strong>in</strong> US sugar plantations outside<br />
Haiti while <strong>the</strong> urban elite were saved. This unequal treatment <strong>in</strong>creased <strong>the</strong> division<br />
between <strong>the</strong> urban elite and <strong>the</strong> countryside (M<strong>in</strong>tz and Trouillot 1995: 142).<br />
Meanwhile <strong>the</strong> US mar<strong>in</strong>es spread negative headl<strong>in</strong>es about Haiti and <strong>in</strong> particular<br />
Vodou, so that <strong>the</strong> religion aga<strong>in</strong> was viewed with suspicion outside Haiti. The basis<br />
<strong>of</strong> this campaign was ano<strong>the</strong>r book which <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> Vodou. In his<br />
Hayti or The Black Republic (1884), Spenser St John connected Vodou for <strong>the</strong> first<br />
time with cannibalism. Despite many unbelievable details this book was regarded as<br />
<strong>the</strong> standard book about Haiti for a long time. 41<br />
Between 1946 and 1950 President Dumarsais Estimé started a public campaign<br />
to proclaim <strong>the</strong> cultural and ethnic <strong>in</strong>dependence <strong>of</strong> Haiti. One issue was <strong>the</strong><br />
40 Despite H<strong>of</strong>fmann’s doubt <strong>the</strong> ceremony is still presented as part <strong>of</strong> Haitian history<br />
today, and is a central component <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> establishment <strong>of</strong> Haitian national identity.<br />
41 On <strong>the</strong> reception <strong>of</strong> this book, see Bremer 1996.
58<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
creation <strong>of</strong> a pure, ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntic’ Vodou. But <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> improv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> Vodou<br />
<strong>the</strong> religion was declassified as folklore. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> 1940s and 1950s Vodou was<br />
only acceptable <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> form <strong>of</strong> tourist performances. 42 But it got worse. The dictator<br />
François Duvalier misused and nearly destroyed Vodou with his manipulations.<br />
Though it was never publicly acknowledged Duvalier was regarded as an oungan.<br />
Officially he <strong>in</strong>creased cooperation with <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church, and <strong>in</strong> 1964 he<br />
declared Catholicism <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial religion <strong>of</strong> Haiti. His attitude towards Vodou was<br />
ambivalent because he wanted to get <strong>the</strong> support <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> urban as well as <strong>the</strong> rural<br />
people. Dur<strong>in</strong>g his time Vodou received connotations <strong>of</strong> witchcraft despite his Vodou<br />
connections. 43 After <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dictatorship, when his son had to leave Haiti <strong>in</strong><br />
1986, <strong>the</strong> fury <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> oppressed people was vented on Vodou priests and many were<br />
killed as seem<strong>in</strong>g supporters <strong>of</strong> Duvalier, until Catholic priests f<strong>in</strong>ally succeeded <strong>in</strong><br />
protect<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Vodou priests. 44<br />
Afterwards <strong>the</strong> situation changed aga<strong>in</strong>. More and more Haitian <strong>in</strong>tellectuals<br />
proclaimed <strong>the</strong>ir commitment to Vodou. Members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> middle and upper classes <strong>in</strong><br />
Port-au-Pr<strong>in</strong>ce even declared <strong>the</strong>mselves vodouisants (<strong>in</strong>itiated Vodou practitioners),<br />
hence improv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> Vodou. In addition, associations <strong>in</strong> support <strong>of</strong> Vodou<br />
such as <strong>the</strong> ZANTRAY (Zenfan Tradisyon Ayisyen, children <strong>of</strong> Haitian tradition)<br />
were founded. In 1987 <strong>the</strong> new constitution acknowledged Kreyòl as <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial<br />
state language toge<strong>the</strong>r with French, and also deleted <strong>the</strong> negative entry about<br />
Vodou. Hence, for <strong>the</strong> first time <strong>the</strong> practice <strong>of</strong> Vodou ritual was no longer aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong><br />
law. In 1991 President Jean-Bertrand Aristide even <strong>in</strong>vited a Vodou priest to attend<br />
his <strong>in</strong>augural ceremony. Unfortunately this peaceful time ended quickly and Haiti<br />
suffered a fast succession <strong>of</strong> putsches, US occupation, elections, street fights and<br />
so on. More and more Haitians decided to leave <strong>the</strong> country. Vodou aga<strong>in</strong> became<br />
<strong>the</strong> victim <strong>of</strong> a negative – though a slightly less vehement – campaign. 45 M<strong>in</strong>tz and<br />
Trouillot judge <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> Vodou quite pessimistically: ‘What was once<br />
a people’s religion is now two o<strong>the</strong>r th<strong>in</strong>gs besides: a political divertissement for<br />
Haitian political leaders, and a side show for tourist hotels’ (1995: 147). They<br />
ignore <strong>the</strong> creativity <strong>of</strong> Vodou believers <strong>in</strong> adapt<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir belief system to new<br />
circumstances. Dur<strong>in</strong>g slavery Vodou became established despite <strong>the</strong> suppression,<br />
and today it survives despite be<strong>in</strong>g regarded as a tourist attraction. F<strong>in</strong>ally, <strong>in</strong> 2003,<br />
Vodou became accepted as a religion <strong>in</strong> Haiti.<br />
The Community <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Société la Belle Venus II and its Worldview<br />
Even as a child <strong>in</strong> Haiti <strong>the</strong> founder <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Société la Belle Venus II, Marie S.,<br />
experienced <strong>the</strong> lwa manifestations <strong>in</strong> her body, but she fought aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong>m. At 14<br />
years old she started to receive <strong>in</strong>formation from spirits about people and she started<br />
to help to cure <strong>the</strong>m. She recognizes, for <strong>in</strong>stance, if <strong>the</strong>re is a spell on someone and<br />
42 See Anderson 1982 on <strong>the</strong> problematic relationship between tourist performances and ritual.<br />
43 See Hurbon 1979 and Johnson 2006 for <strong>in</strong>formation about Vodou dur<strong>in</strong>g Duvalier’s time.<br />
44 See paper given at <strong>the</strong> BASR conference <strong>in</strong> Bath 2006, Schmidt 2007.<br />
45 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> tabloid picture <strong>of</strong> a US newspaper dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> US occupation<br />
with Billy Graham say<strong>in</strong>g: ‘Face <strong>of</strong> Satan rises over Haiti!’ <strong>in</strong> Hurbon 1995a: 194.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 59<br />
can <strong>in</strong>teract. S<strong>in</strong>ce 1982 she has lived <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> where she moved <strong>in</strong> order<br />
to go to college. But aga<strong>in</strong> she was called by <strong>the</strong> spirits.<br />
Two years later, I got possessed by <strong>the</strong> guid<strong>in</strong>g spirit … to serve <strong>the</strong>m. But I didn’t want<br />
to do it. And I tried to fight <strong>the</strong>m. Then I lost my job … I flew to Haiti. And I got <strong>in</strong>itiated.<br />
By <strong>the</strong>n, I was work<strong>in</strong>g as a priest. 46<br />
Only when her problems <strong>in</strong> school and work <strong>in</strong>creased did she accept <strong>the</strong> call <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
spirits and return to Haiti where she was <strong>in</strong>itiated <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> temple La Belle Venus <strong>in</strong><br />
order to be healed. After her return to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> she started to work as a mambo<br />
(a Vodou priestess), and founded her own temple. In <strong>the</strong> six years before my fieldwork<br />
she had <strong>in</strong>itiated a large number <strong>of</strong> people, most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m migrants from Haiti and<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands but also US Americans (European US Americans). With this<br />
remark she wanted to w<strong>in</strong> my confidence <strong>in</strong> order to encourage me also to consider an<br />
<strong>in</strong>itiation, but when I decl<strong>in</strong>ed she accepted my decision without discussion.<br />
At <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> my research <strong>the</strong> temple had approximately twenty-five members<br />
who regularly consulted <strong>the</strong> mambo and (toge<strong>the</strong>r with many o<strong>the</strong>r attendants)<br />
participated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> ceremonies. Among <strong>the</strong>m were a small m<strong>in</strong>ority <strong>of</strong> non-Haitian<br />
people, some African-Americans and some European-Americans. Shortly before<br />
my research started <strong>the</strong> community suffered a setback when a member Marie had<br />
<strong>in</strong>itiated started his own temple and persuaded some members <strong>of</strong> Marie’s temple to<br />
jo<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> new one. But, as she expla<strong>in</strong>ed to me, many <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> renegades returned to her<br />
temple after a while. She has a power that no one can easily avoid, as she put it. For<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance, a neighbour called <strong>the</strong> police because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> loud drum music dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
night, but she successfully protected her community by mak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> police deaf to <strong>the</strong><br />
music. She can protect her community aga<strong>in</strong>st all evil, even aga<strong>in</strong>st a police report<br />
<strong>of</strong> disturbance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> peace by night, she said to me.<br />
The temple is <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement <strong>of</strong> a small terrace house <strong>in</strong> a quiet area <strong>of</strong> Brooklyn.<br />
She decided to buy this house because <strong>the</strong> floor <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement had no concrete<br />
but is covered with clay. But after <strong>the</strong> first ceremonies it became obvious that <strong>the</strong><br />
air becomes so dusty dur<strong>in</strong>g a night ceremony that it becomes impossible for <strong>the</strong><br />
musicians to perform. Hence, <strong>the</strong>y put concrete <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> corner where <strong>the</strong> musicians<br />
play but left most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r floor <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement uncovered. The clay is a rem<strong>in</strong>der<br />
<strong>of</strong> Haiti where ceremonies are normally performed outside, <strong>in</strong> open spaces. The walls<br />
are decorated with colourful pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>ts who symbolize <strong>the</strong> major<br />
lwa (see Figure 3.5). Marie is emotionally much attached to <strong>the</strong>m as she declared to<br />
me: ‘We love all Sa<strong>in</strong>ts. We have <strong>the</strong>m all pa<strong>in</strong>ted here … I love all <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m.’ 47<br />
At <strong>the</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> room is a long table where <strong>the</strong> members build an altar dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> ceremonies for <strong>the</strong> various <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs for <strong>the</strong> lwa who will be celebrated dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> ritual, its favourite food and dr<strong>in</strong>ks and o<strong>the</strong>r presents. In <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> room<br />
is a pole decorated with three drums. It symbolizes <strong>the</strong> poteau-mitan that connects<br />
human earth with <strong>the</strong> space <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lwa and <strong>the</strong> space <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ancestors. In order to<br />
allow spirits to manifest <strong>the</strong>mselves and <strong>the</strong> sacrifice to soak <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> ground <strong>the</strong> area<br />
on <strong>the</strong> floor around a poteau-mitan is not covered with concrete.<br />
46 Marie S., personal communication, 7.12.1998.<br />
47 Ibid.
60<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Apart from this ceremonial room <strong>the</strong>re are several small chambers <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement<br />
for storage, consultation (see Figure 3.6) and chang<strong>in</strong>g clo<strong>the</strong>s, and also a room for<br />
people pass<strong>in</strong>g through <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>in</strong>itiation. The rest <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> house conta<strong>in</strong>s <strong>the</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g<br />
space for Marie and her family, though <strong>the</strong> kitchen is also used by <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> temple and patients com<strong>in</strong>g to consult Marie.<br />
For <strong>the</strong> community two aspects are important: <strong>the</strong> relationship to <strong>the</strong> mambo,<br />
who <strong>in</strong>itiated most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m, and <strong>the</strong> relationship to <strong>the</strong> lwa who have to be honoured<br />
<strong>in</strong> various rituals throughout <strong>the</strong> year. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> festivals I noticed <strong>the</strong> great<br />
authority <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mambo over <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> her temple. Her orders are followed<br />
at once, whe<strong>the</strong>r she asks for more chairs, <strong>the</strong> draw<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> ritual symbols, so-called<br />
vèvès, on <strong>the</strong> floor or o<strong>the</strong>r ritual assistance. While <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist<br />
Church <strong>the</strong> leadership was divided between <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>ister and <strong>the</strong> ‘queen mo<strong>the</strong>r’, <strong>the</strong><br />
mambo alone was <strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple. Dur<strong>in</strong>g her religious activities she was<br />
always accompanied by a family member who protected her so that she did not harm<br />
herself dur<strong>in</strong>g a spirit manifestation, for <strong>in</strong>stance. I was very impressed to notice that<br />
even while she was possessed by a lwa she paid attention to ord<strong>in</strong>ary th<strong>in</strong>gs such as<br />
whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>re were enough chairs <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> room.<br />
Figure 3.5<br />
Inside <strong>the</strong> Société la Belle Venus II, Brooklyn<br />
The close relationship between <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple and <strong>the</strong> priestess is reestablished<br />
by regular private consultations <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong>y may discuss any problem<br />
with <strong>the</strong> mambo, social as well as religious ones. These consultations are strictly<br />
confidential and happen beh<strong>in</strong>d close doors. Karen McCarthy Brown, who was<br />
able to establish a very strong relationship with a mambo dur<strong>in</strong>g three decades <strong>of</strong><br />
research, describes private consultations <strong>in</strong> her publications, but always based on <strong>the</strong>
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 61<br />
Figure 3.6<br />
Consultation room, Société la Belle Venus II, Brooklyn<br />
<strong>in</strong>formation <strong>the</strong> mambo gave her after <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> treatment. 48 Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Marie<br />
S. people consult her for various reasons, and not only members <strong>of</strong> her temple come<br />
to consult her. She has an answer for any problem or knows at least which lwa she has<br />
to address <strong>in</strong> order to get help: ‘If someone tries to hurt you and you want to stop it<br />
… if your child is sick, if someone keeps a curse on you … if you look for treatment<br />
… I have a charm.’ 49 Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> consultations she does not only treat problems but<br />
also regularly <strong>in</strong>vestigates <strong>the</strong> relationship <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> her temple to <strong>the</strong> lwa<br />
and <strong>the</strong> spirits <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dead, because each <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m can <strong>in</strong>fluence human be<strong>in</strong>gs and has<br />
to be honoured <strong>in</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> rituals. While Hurbon divides <strong>the</strong> worship <strong>of</strong> lwa <strong>in</strong>to three<br />
areas, <strong>the</strong> private, familial and collective cult (1972: 88ff.), I observed that <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong> focus is on <strong>the</strong> personal and <strong>the</strong> collective cult; family structures have<br />
been weakened <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> migration. Migrants usually did not leave Haiti with<br />
family members and <strong>the</strong> religious community <strong>of</strong>ten takes over certa<strong>in</strong> family functions<br />
for migrants. Though both areas are dom<strong>in</strong>ated by <strong>the</strong> relationship between priest and<br />
believers, <strong>the</strong> personal cult takes place <strong>in</strong> private and <strong>the</strong> collective one <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple,<br />
and hence <strong>in</strong> public. Apart from consultations <strong>the</strong> private cult <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> worship <strong>of</strong><br />
personal lwa at home where <strong>the</strong> believers normally build a small altar <strong>in</strong> a corner <strong>of</strong> a<br />
room. This altar is decorated accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> f<strong>in</strong>ancial resources <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> person and is<br />
dedicated to <strong>the</strong>ir ma<strong>in</strong> personal lwa and to spirits <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dead. Normally every day a<br />
candle is lit and a small <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>g is giv<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> lwa and <strong>the</strong> spirits. The collective cult<br />
is only celebrated at specific festivals <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple. The community has to honour<br />
48 See Brown 1995: 484–8 and her portrait <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mambo <strong>in</strong> Brown 1991 (a second<br />
edition was published <strong>in</strong> 2001).<br />
49 Marie S., personal communication, 7.12.1998.
62<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> major lwa with public festivals accord<strong>in</strong>g to a fixed schedule. Though it is not<br />
possible to celebrate <strong>the</strong> festivals <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> on <strong>the</strong> specific day as <strong>in</strong> Haiti,<br />
<strong>the</strong> temple always tries to celebrate <strong>the</strong>m <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same week or at least <strong>the</strong> same month<br />
though sometimes <strong>in</strong> a smaller event. These events are public so that apart from<br />
<strong>the</strong> members o<strong>the</strong>r people <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> Vodou are allowed to attend by <strong>in</strong>vitation.<br />
The festivals are ‘essentially social, religious affairs’ represent<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> culm<strong>in</strong>ation<br />
<strong>of</strong> a cha<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> religious events (see Béhague about similar Candomblé festivals,<br />
1984b: 229). Such a festival is an impressive event where every detail is f<strong>in</strong>e-tuned.<br />
Not only <strong>the</strong> structure but also <strong>the</strong> decorations <strong>in</strong>dicate at first glance which lwa will<br />
be honoured by this festival and how strong <strong>the</strong> community is f<strong>in</strong>ancially.<br />
The lwa are central to Vodou, which is generally called ‘serv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> lwa’ by<br />
practitioners. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Marie S. learn<strong>in</strong>g more about <strong>the</strong>m without <strong>in</strong>itiation is<br />
prohibited. None<strong>the</strong>less I will try to approach <strong>the</strong>m as <strong>the</strong> central spiritual entities,<br />
though I need to present <strong>the</strong>m from an outsider’s po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong> view. Hurbon characterizes<br />
<strong>the</strong>m as ‘supernatural be<strong>in</strong>gs that can enter <strong>the</strong> human body, and <strong>the</strong>y are thought to be<br />
present <strong>in</strong> all realms <strong>of</strong> nature: <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> trees, <strong>the</strong> streams, and <strong>the</strong> mounta<strong>in</strong>s; <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> air,<br />
<strong>the</strong> water, and fire’ (1995a: 66). In addition <strong>the</strong>y are connected to human activities as he<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>ues to expla<strong>in</strong>: ‘The lwas <strong>of</strong> voodoo establish a web <strong>of</strong> l<strong>in</strong>kages between human<br />
activities – agriculture, war, courtship – and various aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> natural world. They<br />
create <strong>the</strong> structure <strong>of</strong> time and space, and <strong>the</strong>y take control <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>dividual’s life from<br />
birth to death.’ Outsiders have problems <strong>in</strong> understand<strong>in</strong>g or even categoriz<strong>in</strong>g lwa with<br />
academic labels. Are <strong>the</strong>y gods, deities or spirits? Alfred Métraux describes <strong>the</strong>m as mystères<br />
(mistè) but also mentions that <strong>in</strong> Nor<strong>the</strong>rn Haiti <strong>the</strong>y are called sa<strong>in</strong>ts or angels (1998: 71).<br />
He argues strictly aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> translation <strong>of</strong> lwa as deities or gods because this term is not<br />
precise enough (Métraux 1998: 73). Accord<strong>in</strong>g to my observation <strong>the</strong> term dieu is used <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> only with reference to <strong>the</strong> Christian God who has m<strong>in</strong>or significance <strong>in</strong><br />
Vodou, while <strong>the</strong> term ‘spirits’ is <strong>in</strong>deed sometimes used to describe lwa (even Marie S.<br />
used this term sometimes), though this usage is different from reference to ancestor spirits<br />
and <strong>the</strong> spirits <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dead. Hence I use <strong>the</strong> Kreyòl term ‘lwa’ for <strong>the</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e entities who<br />
exist between God and human be<strong>in</strong>gs and who can manifest <strong>the</strong>mselves physically <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
bodies <strong>of</strong> human be<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong> order to communicate with <strong>the</strong> physical world.<br />
Apart from this short physical existence <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> bodies <strong>of</strong> human be<strong>in</strong>gs lwa<br />
are not regarded as physical be<strong>in</strong>gs, though <strong>the</strong>y are also connected to Catholic<br />
sa<strong>in</strong>ts as <strong>the</strong> decoration <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brooklyn Vodou temple <strong>in</strong>dicates. But despite <strong>the</strong><br />
iconography lwa and sa<strong>in</strong>t are none<strong>the</strong>less two different entities. The statue <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Virg<strong>in</strong> Mary does not represent <strong>the</strong> Holy Mo<strong>the</strong>r <strong>of</strong> Jesus but Erzili, a very popular<br />
lwa who embodies beauty and grace and is associated with love. Sa<strong>in</strong>t Patrick is<br />
for vodouisants <strong>the</strong> powerful lwa Dãmbala, responsible for luck and prosperity<br />
and portrayed sometimes as a snake (Hurbon 1972: 104–9). In general people refer<br />
to <strong>the</strong> visual similarities between <strong>the</strong> two – St Patrick is known as <strong>the</strong> one who<br />
freed Ireland from snakes – though Joan Dayan (1995) argues that <strong>the</strong>re are also<br />
similarities between <strong>the</strong> histories. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> Vodou most<br />
if not all Haitian practitioners were illiterate, hence <strong>the</strong>y probably would have been<br />
unfamiliar with <strong>the</strong> legends surround<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> sa<strong>in</strong>ts but familiar with <strong>the</strong> pictures and<br />
statues. Analogies based on iconography are quite common among Afro-American<br />
religions such as <strong>the</strong> Cuban religion Santería and <strong>the</strong> Brazilian religion Candomblé
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 63<br />
where <strong>the</strong> thunder god Xangô is represented as Sa<strong>in</strong>t Barbara who is also associated<br />
with thunder though <strong>in</strong> different ways. While she protects people from thunder <strong>in</strong><br />
European Catholicism, Xangô creates thunder if <strong>in</strong> a rage (Münzel 1986: 228).<br />
Lwa are divided <strong>in</strong>to several categories called nanchon (nation). Some are<br />
regarded as ancestors, hence are replac<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>eage which was destroyed by <strong>the</strong><br />
slave trade. As Marie S. said, ancestors occupied central roles <strong>in</strong> African traditions.<br />
When <strong>the</strong>se l<strong>in</strong>eages were <strong>in</strong>terrupted by <strong>the</strong> slave trade, <strong>the</strong> void was filled by lwa.<br />
But despite this role lwa are never regarded as <strong>in</strong>dividual be<strong>in</strong>gs, most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m are<br />
not even connected to a certa<strong>in</strong> gender. Lwa are ambivalent, dynamic and fluid, some<br />
have various ways <strong>of</strong> representation. The three most important nanchons are Rada,<br />
Kongo and Petro, which are honoured <strong>in</strong> every ceremony <strong>in</strong> a fixed order though<br />
every ceremony focuses on one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> nanchons <strong>in</strong> particular. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Hurbon<br />
nanchons reflect various African groups; some lwa are based on protect<strong>in</strong>g spirits<br />
and o<strong>the</strong>rs on div<strong>in</strong>e ancestors (1995a: 70). Every nanchon has its own ritual with its<br />
own music, songs, dances, greet<strong>in</strong>gs and <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
The Rada ritual honours lwas from Dahomey who are regarded as good spirits,<br />
lwa-G<strong>in</strong>en, Kongo ritual refers to Bantu-spirits from <strong>the</strong> West African Bakongo<br />
region who are less popular but none<strong>the</strong>less important, and Petro refers to Creole<br />
spirits who are regarded <strong>in</strong> opposition to Rada as aggressive, envious and bitter. They<br />
are less <strong>in</strong>dividualistic and <strong>in</strong>corporate also some <strong>in</strong>digenous <strong>in</strong>fluences. I was told<br />
that <strong>the</strong>y played a crucial role <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> slave upris<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> 1791 and <strong>the</strong> establishment<br />
<strong>of</strong> Haiti <strong>in</strong> 1804. 50 Apart from <strong>the</strong>se rituals <strong>the</strong>re is also <strong>the</strong> Nago ritual for Yoruba<br />
spirits but it is <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong> Rada.<br />
Despite this classification it is not possible to divide <strong>the</strong>m dualistically <strong>in</strong>to good<br />
and evil. As I was told this is <strong>the</strong> custom only <strong>in</strong> Christianity, <strong>in</strong> Vodou good and evil<br />
cannot be separated. Every lwa has multiple aspects; even both genders are united <strong>in</strong><br />
every lwa. Many Rada lwa have Kongo or Petro counterparts which express different<br />
aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir identity. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Métraux it is not important to which nanchon<br />
a lwa belongs because <strong>the</strong> nanchon signifies <strong>the</strong> various characteristics which are<br />
shared by all lwa (1998: 77).<br />
Every ceremony starts with honour<strong>in</strong>g Legba, <strong>the</strong> lwa for cross<strong>in</strong>gs who opens<br />
<strong>the</strong> door. Without Legba’s help no lwa can appear and no contact between human<br />
be<strong>in</strong>gs and lwa is possible. As an example <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> various songs which are performed<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g a ceremony I will quote part <strong>of</strong> a song about Legba published by Alfred<br />
Métraux <strong>in</strong> Kreyòl (1998: 88):<br />
Atibô-Legba, l’uvri bayè pu mwê, Agoé!<br />
Papa-Legba, l’uvri bayè pu mwê<br />
Pu mwê pasé<br />
Lò m’a tunê, m’salié loa-yo<br />
Vodu Legba, l’uvri bayè pu mwê<br />
Pu mwê sa râtré<br />
Lò m’a tunê m’a rémèsyé loa-yo, Abobo.<br />
50 Wilcken, personal communication, 3.10.1998. Desmangles (1992) states that <strong>the</strong><br />
term Petro is derived from Dom Pedro, a mythical leader <strong>of</strong> a maroon rebellion <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> late<br />
eighteenth century.
64<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> each phrase <strong>the</strong> people present shout loud ‘AyBoBo’, as <strong>the</strong>y do also<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ceremony <strong>in</strong> order to confirm what was said by <strong>the</strong> priest.<br />
After honour<strong>in</strong>g Legba, rituals for various nanchons follow <strong>in</strong> a specific order<br />
and <strong>the</strong> first lwa ‘mounts’ a body to ga<strong>in</strong> physical shape for a short time. Erzili, for<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance, belongs to <strong>the</strong> Dahomey nation; hence she will appear when <strong>the</strong> drums beat<br />
<strong>the</strong> Rada rhythm, perhaps toge<strong>the</strong>r with Ogou, a powerful lwa <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Nago family.<br />
Both lwa are very popular and regularly mount bodies <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir believers. Their<br />
appearance is quite easy to detect, even for outsiders. Apart from <strong>the</strong> paraphernalia<br />
which <strong>the</strong>y receive after mount<strong>in</strong>g (such as sweet perfume and sweet dessert for<br />
Erzili and a long knife and cigar for Ogou) <strong>the</strong>y are <strong>of</strong>ten dressed with <strong>the</strong>ir favourite<br />
clo<strong>the</strong>s or at least decorated with scarves <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir favourite colours (p<strong>in</strong>k for Erzili and<br />
red for Ogou) to honour <strong>the</strong>ir presence. Dur<strong>in</strong>g a ceremony <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> a vodouisant<br />
can be mounted by several lwa, one after <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r. Religious tra<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g and experience<br />
are important. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ceremonies <strong>in</strong> which I participated, only <strong>the</strong> priest and<br />
some experienced vodouisants were mounted more than once while people with less<br />
experience had just one manifestation.<br />
At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ceremony <strong>the</strong> Gédé appeared with Baron Samdi, <strong>the</strong>ir superior.<br />
The Gédé accord<strong>in</strong>g to Hurbon represent an ethnic group that was conquered by <strong>the</strong><br />
royal family <strong>of</strong> Abomey and <strong>in</strong> consequence sold to Sa<strong>in</strong>t Dom<strong>in</strong>gue (1995a: 74–5).<br />
Today <strong>the</strong>y are generally connected to death and <strong>in</strong>corporate <strong>the</strong> spirits <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dead.<br />
Baron Samdi is portrayed wear<strong>in</strong>g black tails and a top hat. 51 November is regarded as<br />
<strong>the</strong> month <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Gédé. Every temple celebrates festivals <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Gédé. While<br />
<strong>the</strong> first two days <strong>of</strong> November are treated <strong>in</strong> Haiti as national holidays, I noticed that<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong> festivals are ma<strong>in</strong>ly celebrated at weekends, sometimes even<br />
weeks after <strong>the</strong> events <strong>in</strong> Haiti.<br />
Despite f<strong>in</strong>ancial troubles every temple has to celebrate festivals <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
major lwa <strong>in</strong> order to enable <strong>the</strong>m to make a physical appearance. O<strong>the</strong>rwise <strong>the</strong>y<br />
would be angry and cause problems. Every person has a special connection to one<br />
lwa, hence every member has to honour its own lwa by support<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> organization<br />
<strong>of</strong> such a festival and with some private rituals. Lwa are regarded as hav<strong>in</strong>g unlimited<br />
power, and <strong>the</strong>y can even protect <strong>the</strong> dead. Vodouisants believe that priests can<br />
manipulate lwa. If someone suspects that an illness or a problem was caused by a<br />
lwa, <strong>the</strong> consultation with a priest can help because a priest can communicate with<br />
<strong>the</strong> lwa and f<strong>in</strong>d out who might be responsible for <strong>the</strong> problem. Sometimes it is<br />
possible to ask <strong>the</strong> lwa directly dur<strong>in</strong>g this short physical manifestation <strong>in</strong> a body. In<br />
both cases <strong>the</strong> person has to pay for <strong>the</strong> service because <strong>the</strong> lwa demand an <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Handl<strong>in</strong>g lwa can be dangerous. ‘One can never be too careful’ (Hurbon 1995a: 81),<br />
because <strong>the</strong>ir revenge can lead to death. The connection between a lwa and a human<br />
be<strong>in</strong>g is permanent. If a lwa calls someone to become <strong>in</strong>itiated and <strong>the</strong> person rejects<br />
<strong>the</strong> call, it can lead to catastrophic consequences. Often lwa mount a person dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
a ceremony <strong>in</strong> church as, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Elizabeth McAlister describes (1992/1993).<br />
Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Hurbon most lwa are <strong>in</strong>herited with<strong>in</strong> a family (1995a: 80), but <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
51 The Gédé are <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> target <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> negative reception <strong>of</strong> Vodou but <strong>in</strong> reality <strong>the</strong>y are<br />
less important than Hollywood suggests. Their role is equal to those <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Rada and Petro<br />
lwa, hence <strong>the</strong>y represent one <strong>of</strong> many nanchons.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 65<br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> I learnt stories about visions and sudden manifestations without warn<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Normally lwa should mount only <strong>in</strong> a ritual where <strong>the</strong>y can be controlled because<br />
uncontrolled manifestations are regarded as dangerous for <strong>the</strong> person, who loses<br />
control over body and consciousness; hence it can cause accidents to <strong>the</strong> body or<br />
worse. Dur<strong>in</strong>g a ritual <strong>the</strong> person is protected by members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community who<br />
guard <strong>the</strong> body when fall<strong>in</strong>g or when <strong>the</strong> person gets too close to a candle. Dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation a special lwa-mèt-tèt is ‘anchored’ <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> head <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> candidate <strong>in</strong> order<br />
to protect <strong>the</strong> body dur<strong>in</strong>g spirit manifestations.<br />
Musicians pay an important role dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ceremonies because with <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
rhythm <strong>the</strong>y can call a lwa; as Hurbon writes, ‘<strong>the</strong> drums play a central role, creat<strong>in</strong>g<br />
rhythms that br<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> heartbeats <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> faithful and lwa toge<strong>the</strong>r’ (1995a: 109). In<br />
Haiti every large Vodou temple recruits its own musicians among its members. In<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> not all temples can even afford to hire musicians to perform dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> whole night so sometimes <strong>the</strong> lwa are called just by s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g. But if possible a<br />
temple will hire at least three drummers to play dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> night-long ceremony. In<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong>se musicians are sometimes not Haitian nor do <strong>the</strong>y belong to<br />
a Vodou temple, ra<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y are pupils <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Haitian manman tambor, <strong>the</strong> master<br />
drummer. 52 The conversation dur<strong>in</strong>g a ceremony is ma<strong>in</strong>ly <strong>in</strong> Kreyòl, which is also<br />
<strong>the</strong> ritual language <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> songs. Hence most pupils will not understand what is go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
on, and have to trust <strong>the</strong>ir teacher. The master drummer is a (male) vodouisant who<br />
can <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>the</strong> ceremony with his creativity and competence. Apart from <strong>the</strong> priest<br />
he is <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> figure dur<strong>in</strong>g a ceremony. He knows all <strong>the</strong> rhythms and songs, and<br />
recognizes also <strong>the</strong> first signs <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> appearance <strong>of</strong> a lwa so that he can react and<br />
change or enforce <strong>the</strong> rhythm. 53 Apart from musicians every Vodou temple <strong>in</strong> Haiti<br />
also recruits among its members people who will take over o<strong>the</strong>r responsibilities,<br />
such as an ounsi who supports <strong>the</strong> priest and o<strong>the</strong>r assistants who carry <strong>the</strong> flag<br />
or lead <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g. Unfortunately this is <strong>of</strong>ten not possible <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> so<br />
that most temples abandon flags at most ceremonies and use <strong>the</strong>m only at special<br />
ceremonies such as an <strong>in</strong>itiation.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> Société la Belle Venus II it is similar. Marie S. coord<strong>in</strong>ates <strong>the</strong> organization<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> festival, from <strong>the</strong> preparation, cook<strong>in</strong>g, hir<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> musicians, buy<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
animals for <strong>the</strong> sacrifice and even <strong>the</strong> collection <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> f<strong>in</strong>ancial <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs. Every<br />
member is called to support <strong>the</strong> festival though <strong>the</strong> members who have a ritual<br />
connection to <strong>the</strong> lwa who will be honoured have to carry <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> f<strong>in</strong>ancial burden.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> priestess compla<strong>in</strong>s <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> active support dur<strong>in</strong>g ceremonies.<br />
While <strong>in</strong> Haiti more members would support <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g, she is <strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> whole<br />
ceremony so that at dawn her voice is totally exhausted for days. But apart from this<br />
structural aspect she <strong>in</strong>sists that <strong>the</strong>re is no difference between Vodou practices <strong>in</strong><br />
Haiti and <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Most temples are ritually connected to temples <strong>in</strong> Haiti,<br />
52 Many Vodou musicians earn <strong>the</strong>ir liv<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> by teach<strong>in</strong>g drums, <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
to non-Haitians. When <strong>the</strong> pupils understand enough <strong>the</strong>y are <strong>in</strong>vited to accompany <strong>the</strong> master<br />
drummer to a ceremony where <strong>the</strong>y get more and more responsibilities. As soon as <strong>the</strong>y are able<br />
to drum one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> drums, <strong>the</strong>y receive part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> money given to <strong>the</strong> master drummer.<br />
53 For <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> role <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> master drummer <strong>in</strong> Candomblé, see Béhague<br />
1984b: 225–6 and Herskovits 1944.
66<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> Port-au-Pr<strong>in</strong>ce. A lifelong connection also exists between a vodouisant<br />
and <strong>the</strong> priest who <strong>in</strong>itiated <strong>the</strong> person, similar to <strong>the</strong> relationship between parent<br />
and child. Consequently she is also responsible for <strong>the</strong>m as she said once. ‘I have<br />
to be here for <strong>the</strong>m. Anytime.’ 54 All vodouisants <strong>in</strong>itiated by her are automatically<br />
members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple <strong>in</strong> Port-au-Pr<strong>in</strong>ce where she herself was <strong>in</strong>itiated. She <strong>in</strong>sists<br />
<strong>the</strong>refore that only <strong>the</strong> organization differs because <strong>in</strong> Haiti Vodou believers would<br />
live toge<strong>the</strong>r, while <strong>the</strong>y are separated <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>.<br />
Before I move on to <strong>the</strong> situation <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> I need to address ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
aspect that is more important for external perceptions <strong>of</strong> Vodou than for its religious<br />
practice: zombies. I have not mentioned <strong>the</strong>m yet because <strong>the</strong>y play no significant<br />
role <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Vodou temple despite <strong>the</strong>ir great popularity among outsiders, <strong>in</strong> particular<br />
s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> publications <strong>of</strong> Wade Davies (for example 1985). Zombies are connected<br />
to <strong>the</strong> Vodou perception <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> soul. Every human be<strong>in</strong>g has two souls, <strong>the</strong> ti bon<br />
anj and <strong>the</strong> gwo bon anj, <strong>the</strong> little and <strong>the</strong> big good angel. After death gwo bon anj<br />
leaves <strong>the</strong> body while ti bon anj stays until <strong>the</strong> last day on earth or – accord<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
ano<strong>the</strong>r source – cont<strong>in</strong>ues its existence under water where <strong>the</strong> dead exist (Métraux<br />
1998: 229). Powerful priests have <strong>the</strong> ability to steal <strong>the</strong> gwo bon anj and force <strong>the</strong><br />
body under <strong>the</strong>ir control. The results are people without <strong>the</strong>ir own wills and m<strong>in</strong>ds.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> literature one f<strong>in</strong>ds several accounts <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> zombies but I had <strong>the</strong><br />
impression dur<strong>in</strong>g my research <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> that zombies <strong>in</strong> Vodou are quite<br />
similar to hell <strong>in</strong> Christian stories: a committed believer fears it but no one has any<br />
personal experience <strong>of</strong> it. Never<strong>the</strong>less, Vodou does not exclude <strong>the</strong> evil side <strong>of</strong><br />
humanity from its worldview. A priest is thought to be able to manipulate lwa <strong>in</strong><br />
order to help people with <strong>the</strong>ir problems <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> spiritual world; and with <strong>the</strong> same<br />
abilities a priest can also cause harm, though this would create problems because any<br />
harm caused by evil practices will come back.<br />
Vodou <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
The perception <strong>of</strong> Vodou <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is ma<strong>in</strong>ly <strong>in</strong>fluenced by two elements,<br />
<strong>the</strong> social situation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Haitian community <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> and <strong>the</strong> negative<br />
image <strong>of</strong> Vodou. Though not all Haitians are vodouisants and not all vodouisants are<br />
Haitians, most US Americans seem to believe <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> coherence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> two groups and<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> evil connotations <strong>of</strong> both, despite all efforts to teach <strong>the</strong>m o<strong>the</strong>rwise. Marie<br />
S. once commented: ‘We have bad Sa<strong>in</strong>ts. That is [why] <strong>the</strong>y th<strong>in</strong>k Vodou is always<br />
do<strong>in</strong>g cruel th<strong>in</strong>gs: bad, evil, torture. But that is not true. Vodou is shar<strong>in</strong>g love.’ 55<br />
Many <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Haitians liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> migrated dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Duvalier oppression<br />
and afterwards, hence <strong>in</strong> a time when Haiti suffered political and economic regression.<br />
The majority <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> first group <strong>of</strong> migrants belonged to <strong>the</strong> Haitian middle and upper<br />
classes who managed to establish <strong>the</strong>ir own ethnic community <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>in</strong><br />
order to <strong>in</strong>tegrate <strong>in</strong>to society relatively fast. In 1972 <strong>the</strong> first boat refugees arrived<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, predom<strong>in</strong>antly settl<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Miami and <strong>the</strong> surround<strong>in</strong>g area. Only a few<br />
came to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. But s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1980s Haitian migrants can be found <strong>in</strong> most<br />
54 Marie S., personal communication, 7.12.1998.<br />
55 Ibid.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 67<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> larger cities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, accord<strong>in</strong>g to Michael Laguerre. In cities such as<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, Miami, Boston, Chicago and Wash<strong>in</strong>gton DC Haitians successfully<br />
founded <strong>the</strong>ir own communities with shops, churches, restaurants, clubs and o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
th<strong>in</strong>gs that are more or less connected to each o<strong>the</strong>r (Laguerre 1996: 21–2). In <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong> Haitian community <strong>in</strong>cludes US citizens, legal and illegal migrants,<br />
refugees, students and children <strong>of</strong> Haitian parents. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Laguerre, it is not<br />
possible to establish <strong>the</strong> number <strong>of</strong> vodouisants among <strong>the</strong> migrants because many<br />
Vodou priests and <strong>the</strong>ir believers live illegally <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> (1996: 29). Laguerre fails<br />
to expla<strong>in</strong> why <strong>the</strong>re should be so many illegal people among vodouisants. It could<br />
be that he is unconsciously <strong>in</strong>fluenced by a widespread prejudice among Haitian<br />
<strong>in</strong>tellectuals. Many still th<strong>in</strong>k that Vodou is a religion for uneducated peasants<br />
but <strong>the</strong>y ignore <strong>the</strong> changes <strong>in</strong> Vodou, <strong>in</strong> particular s<strong>in</strong>ce its spread to <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>.<br />
Accord<strong>in</strong>g to my observations many people who regularly consult a Vodou priest<br />
and participate at Vodou ceremonies appear to be well educated and belong to <strong>the</strong><br />
middle or even upper class. 56<br />
Despite <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> empirical data <strong>the</strong> tabloids still connect Vodou with crim<strong>in</strong>al<br />
activities, as Laguerre compla<strong>in</strong>s:<br />
Such <strong>in</strong>nuendoes about voodoo-related crimes have never been proved to have any empirical<br />
basis. In fact, <strong>the</strong> community affairs <strong>of</strong>ficer <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 77th Prec<strong>in</strong>ct <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, located <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> midst <strong>of</strong> a very densely populated Haitian-American neighborhood, is reported to have<br />
said <strong>in</strong> 1979: ‘In my 26 years here, I have never come across any crime actually l<strong>in</strong>ked to<br />
Voodoo. Narcotics is still our biggest problem <strong>in</strong> this area.’ (1996: 29) 57<br />
Up to <strong>the</strong> present day <strong>the</strong> public has been <strong>in</strong>cl<strong>in</strong>ed to trace any mistakes and crim<strong>in</strong>al<br />
charges aga<strong>in</strong>st Haitians to Vodou. The <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> Times gave a police report aga<strong>in</strong>st<br />
a Haitian more attention than usual because he was a Vodou priest who apparently<br />
harmed a woman dur<strong>in</strong>g a ceremony with a candle (Pierre-Pierre 1998: B5). 58 This<br />
event is quite symptomatic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Haitian community, which<br />
still has to fight aga<strong>in</strong>st stereotypes such as illegality, crim<strong>in</strong>ality and poverty. In<br />
contrast, Haitian communities are economically quite successful and have managed<br />
to establish a place <strong>in</strong> society despite racist stereotypes. Laguerre even argues that<br />
Haitian migrants have developed <strong>the</strong>ir sense <strong>of</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pressures<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> wider society, not despite <strong>the</strong>m (1996: 155–9).<br />
But any picture <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Haitian community as homogeneous is mislead<strong>in</strong>g; <strong>the</strong><br />
reality is quite diverse. Even <strong>the</strong> religious area demonstrates tensions and breaks.<br />
Among <strong>the</strong> Vodou communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong>re exist disputes and jealousy<br />
between <strong>the</strong> temples. Many priests regard <strong>the</strong>mselves as compet<strong>in</strong>g for members and<br />
patients. The community I have just presented encounters envy because <strong>of</strong> its effort<br />
to register as a church. Though many young vodouisants are try<strong>in</strong>g to establish an<br />
56 This development is quite similar to <strong>the</strong> development among believers <strong>of</strong> Cuban<br />
Santería <strong>in</strong> Miami where priests are consulted predom<strong>in</strong>ately by well-paid people. See also<br />
<strong>the</strong> film Legacy <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spirit by Karen Kramer that demonstrates <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> Vodou <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> and <strong>the</strong> way it spread to non-Haitian communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s.<br />
57 Laguerre refers to <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> Times Magaz<strong>in</strong>e from 2.12.1979.<br />
58 Because <strong>of</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> any motive <strong>the</strong> police stopped <strong>the</strong> enquiry after a while.
68<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>stitutional structure for Vodou, <strong>the</strong>y will probably rema<strong>in</strong> unsuccessful because<br />
many elders reject this idea, as I was told. One reason could be <strong>the</strong> charismatic<br />
leadership <strong>of</strong> each community which makes <strong>the</strong> cooperation <strong>of</strong> priests irrelevant for<br />
believers. If <strong>the</strong>y want to <strong>the</strong>y can always consult ano<strong>the</strong>r priest, or even jo<strong>in</strong> ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
community if <strong>the</strong>y th<strong>in</strong>k ano<strong>the</strong>r priest has more power, though usually <strong>the</strong> bond<br />
between priest and <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple is very strong. The rivalry among priests<br />
<strong>in</strong>dicates a struggle over members and economical resources. The loss <strong>of</strong> members <strong>of</strong><br />
a community dim<strong>in</strong>ishes <strong>the</strong> status <strong>of</strong> a priest who is <strong>the</strong>n regarded as weak. Fewer<br />
pay<strong>in</strong>g patients will come for consultations, hence br<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> less <strong>in</strong>come.<br />
The rivalry among priests has been <strong>in</strong>creased by <strong>the</strong> public attention given to<br />
Mama Lola, <strong>the</strong> mambo who became famous after <strong>the</strong> publication <strong>of</strong> her biography<br />
by Karen McCarthy Brown. Though she is <strong>of</strong>ten regarded as <strong>the</strong> public face <strong>of</strong><br />
Vodou, represent<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> religion <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, to my knowledge she has never tried<br />
to develop a jo<strong>in</strong>t Vodou structure which could help to <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>the</strong> status <strong>of</strong> Vodou<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. Her strength is dra<strong>in</strong>ed enough <strong>in</strong> fulfill<strong>in</strong>g her religious duties towards<br />
<strong>the</strong> many members <strong>of</strong> her temple and by o<strong>the</strong>r commitments. She serves <strong>the</strong> lwa<br />
with all her power and decl<strong>in</strong>es all demands for an <strong>in</strong>stitution. O<strong>the</strong>r priests want<br />
to imitate her and try to establish a similar position but none has achieved it. Her<br />
position is still unique. Perhaps she would have <strong>the</strong> authority to unify <strong>the</strong> Vodou<br />
communities but she lacks <strong>the</strong> energy. O<strong>the</strong>rs would have liked to do it, but <strong>the</strong>y lack<br />
<strong>the</strong> authority. Consequently, it is unlikely that <strong>the</strong> Vodou communities will adapt<br />
to <strong>the</strong> legal structures <strong>of</strong> US society, where only a registered association such as a<br />
church is regarded as represent<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terests <strong>of</strong> a religious community, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> near<br />
future. The ma<strong>in</strong> purpose <strong>of</strong> Vodou communities is still <strong>the</strong>ir commitment to <strong>the</strong><br />
demands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir members and not to <strong>the</strong> demands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> society as one can see from<br />
<strong>the</strong> Société la Belle Venus II <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> film La ronde des Vodú (Voodoo Dance) by Elsie Hass a Haitian historian<br />
states that Vodou and Kreyòl belong to Haitian culture and that without knowledge <strong>of</strong><br />
both it is not possible to understand Haiti. In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> Vodou symbolizes part<br />
<strong>of</strong> home for <strong>the</strong> migrants, part <strong>of</strong> Haiti, and sometimes this is also true for subsequent<br />
generations. Dur<strong>in</strong>g my research I noticed that Vodou has ga<strong>in</strong>ed more and more<br />
acceptance among children <strong>of</strong> Haitian parents who <strong>the</strong>mselves have rejected Vodou as<br />
witchcraft and superstition (see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Brown 1998). Members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> second<br />
generation discover <strong>in</strong> Vodou <strong>the</strong>ir lost roots <strong>in</strong> Haiti and even <strong>in</strong> Africa because Vodou<br />
represents for <strong>the</strong>m <strong>the</strong>ir African ancestors. Some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Société la<br />
Belle Venus II are also from <strong>the</strong> second generation who hope to f<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong>ir lost identity<br />
through <strong>the</strong>ir participation <strong>in</strong> ceremonies. But, as some older members compla<strong>in</strong>ed to<br />
me, <strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>ten ignore <strong>the</strong> fact that Vodou means more than dance steps and song texts.<br />
Because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir lack <strong>of</strong> respect towards older people or people with higher ritual status,<br />
<strong>the</strong>y will rema<strong>in</strong> outsiders despite all <strong>the</strong>ir efforts to learn <strong>the</strong> relevant movements.<br />
Though <strong>the</strong>y are Haitians <strong>the</strong>y seem to resemble Vodou enthusiasts who ‘discovered’<br />
Haiti and Vodou dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Harlem Renaissance <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1930s. 59 Like Haitians <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
59 One <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most important members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Harlem Renaissance was Maya Deren who<br />
became a vodouisant and created one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most famous aes<strong>the</strong>tic approaches to Vodou. See<br />
Deren 1953 and her film which was released after her death.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 69<br />
second generation, Vodou enthusiasts <strong>of</strong>ten put <strong>the</strong> religious level below <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic<br />
one, contrary to believers and also <strong>in</strong> opposition to some anthropologists who have<br />
become so <strong>in</strong>volved <strong>in</strong> Vodou that <strong>the</strong>y became vodouisants. 60<br />
The reference to Haiti is important for all members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple, and is <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>the</strong><br />
ma<strong>in</strong> reason for participation <strong>in</strong> ceremonies. Often <strong>the</strong> conversations are <strong>in</strong> Kreyòl<br />
though not all speak and understand it fluently. None<strong>the</strong>less <strong>the</strong> ceremonies create<br />
(nearly) a Haitian atmosphere <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir smells and sounds. For a few hours people can<br />
forget that <strong>the</strong>y are <strong>in</strong> a basement <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn and step <strong>in</strong>to a Haitian world where<br />
<strong>the</strong>y are not migrants but people. The community creates a support network similar<br />
to <strong>the</strong> family <strong>in</strong> Haiti. The ritual connection – for <strong>in</strong>stance based on <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation –<br />
establishes bonds which last a lifetime and provide help <strong>in</strong> all situations. The mambo<br />
will leave everyth<strong>in</strong>g beh<strong>in</strong>d <strong>in</strong> order to help one <strong>of</strong> her ritual children.<br />
Similar to most Vodou communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>the</strong> Société la Belle Venus<br />
II also represents an urban form <strong>of</strong> Vodou, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong> Vodou <strong>of</strong> Port-au-Pr<strong>in</strong>ce,<br />
which is different from rural Vodou, as one can see <strong>in</strong> particular from <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant<br />
position <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mambo. In most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> classic studies <strong>of</strong> Haitian Vodou <strong>the</strong> authors<br />
describe <strong>the</strong> rural version. Though <strong>the</strong>y always mention <strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> mambos<br />
as well as oungans, <strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>ten focus <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir description on <strong>the</strong> male priest. When<br />
Vodou became more and more prom<strong>in</strong>ent <strong>in</strong> urban contexts, <strong>the</strong> position <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> priest<br />
and <strong>the</strong> gender relationship changed. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Brown rural Haitian society is<br />
still traditionally divided along gender l<strong>in</strong>es, and everyone occupies a special place<br />
with a special function <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> society. Women can ga<strong>in</strong> prestige and recognition<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir area, for <strong>in</strong>stance as midwives, herbalists or mambos. None<strong>the</strong>less, male<br />
dom<strong>in</strong>ance still seems to be alive <strong>in</strong> rural areas and <strong>the</strong> large, patriarchal, extended<br />
family is still seen as <strong>the</strong> ideal <strong>in</strong> Haiti (Brown 1995: 482). S<strong>in</strong>gle mo<strong>the</strong>rs have<br />
limited autonomy because <strong>the</strong>y rema<strong>in</strong> part <strong>of</strong> a larger extended family with <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
fa<strong>the</strong>rs or grandfa<strong>the</strong>rs as patriarch, even when <strong>the</strong> women earn <strong>the</strong>ir own money. 61<br />
In urban contexts <strong>the</strong> situation is different. Women can even ga<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> position<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> head <strong>of</strong> a Vodou community, which is regarded as equivalent to be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
head <strong>of</strong> an extended family. Brown expla<strong>in</strong>s this development with reference to <strong>the</strong><br />
economical authority <strong>of</strong> women as marketers <strong>in</strong> rural areas, where <strong>the</strong>y are used to<br />
sell<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir own products. This position as bread w<strong>in</strong>ner for <strong>the</strong>ir families <strong>in</strong>creased<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> women and empowered <strong>the</strong>m to adjust more easily to urban sett<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
As mambos <strong>the</strong>y are head <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> family and ga<strong>in</strong> more and more self-confidence for<br />
religious positions. This is necessary because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> new demands. While rural Vodou<br />
priests are ma<strong>in</strong>ly occupied with heal<strong>in</strong>g and o<strong>the</strong>r services, urban temples have to<br />
compensate for <strong>the</strong> loss <strong>of</strong> family structures by creat<strong>in</strong>g a new religious network.<br />
Consequently <strong>the</strong> functions <strong>of</strong> a priest develop <strong>in</strong>to those <strong>of</strong> a rural patriarch, <strong>the</strong> head<br />
<strong>of</strong> an extended family. An urban priest is <strong>in</strong> control <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community<br />
but also has more responsibilities, as Brown argues. But even <strong>the</strong> style <strong>of</strong> Vodou <strong>in</strong><br />
Port-au-Pr<strong>in</strong>ce has changed because <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>in</strong> female participation. Women<br />
favour a different, more familial way <strong>of</strong> handl<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> members. The women-led<br />
60 For <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> problems <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>itiated anthropologist, see McAlister<br />
1998: 140–41.<br />
61 See Charles 1995 on <strong>the</strong> emergence <strong>of</strong> a new fem<strong>in</strong>ism <strong>in</strong> Haiti <strong>in</strong> 1980–90.
70<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
temples <strong>in</strong> Port-au-Pr<strong>in</strong>ce have a more <strong>in</strong>dividual atmosphere and almost resemble a<br />
private house (Brown 1995: 483).<br />
This description also fits Vodou <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. There are, <strong>of</strong> course, some<br />
communities led by male priests. However, Vodou <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> empowers<br />
women <strong>in</strong> particular to ga<strong>in</strong> prestige by occupy<strong>in</strong>g religious positions. Hence it is<br />
not a surprise that <strong>the</strong> Société la Belle Venus II has a relatively high number <strong>of</strong><br />
female members. By occupy<strong>in</strong>g a religious position <strong>in</strong> a Vodou temple <strong>the</strong>se women<br />
<strong>in</strong>crease <strong>in</strong> self-confidence; it empowers <strong>the</strong>m to organize <strong>the</strong>ir lives better. The<br />
community is <strong>the</strong>refore much more than a compensation for a family or a bond to<br />
Haiti because it represents a way to f<strong>in</strong>d a place <strong>in</strong> society. Vodou <strong>of</strong>fers a religious<br />
practice which is, on <strong>the</strong> one hand, <strong>in</strong>dividual and aes<strong>the</strong>tically appeal<strong>in</strong>g and can<br />
easily adapt to changes. On <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, <strong>the</strong> community is led <strong>in</strong> an authoritarian<br />
way which can cause fragmentation.<br />
Santeras and Santeros ‘Between Houses’ <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
In contrast to <strong>the</strong> two religions already discussed I will not present <strong>the</strong> religious<br />
practice <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> next <strong>Caribbean</strong> religion by focus<strong>in</strong>g on a community. Though <strong>the</strong><br />
temples, <strong>the</strong> casas de santos, are also important for <strong>the</strong> practitioners, <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>er<br />
practitioners <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cuban religion prefer <strong>in</strong>dividual practices and <strong>of</strong>ten refer only<br />
to <strong>the</strong> priest who <strong>in</strong>itiated <strong>the</strong>m, not to a community. Despite some early efforts this<br />
Afro-Cuban religion is far from becom<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>stitutionalized and <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>of</strong>fers its<br />
believers great freedom for <strong>in</strong>dividual creativity.<br />
In recent years, however, I have noticed an <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g fracture among santeros<br />
and santeras, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiated believers. When I started work<strong>in</strong>g on Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1990s<br />
<strong>in</strong> Puerto Rico, I noticed tensions between practitioners <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> regla de ocha and<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> regla de ifá but I expla<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong>m more as problems between priests over a<br />
different <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> authority <strong>of</strong> ifá than as a historically dist<strong>in</strong>ct system <strong>of</strong><br />
cults, as David Brown (2003: 147) describes (Schmidt 1995: 301). It seems that <strong>the</strong><br />
tensions have <strong>in</strong>creased dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> last decade though both systems still represent<br />
just two different but connected ritual systems. My focus is on <strong>the</strong> regla de ocha<br />
because this form is more popular among believers <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> than <strong>the</strong> regla<br />
de ifá, though <strong>the</strong>y also consult ifá if necessary. The term Santería, which I use to<br />
describe <strong>the</strong> Cuban system <strong>of</strong> beliefs and practices <strong>in</strong> spite <strong>of</strong> grow<strong>in</strong>g resistance<br />
on <strong>the</strong> side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> believers, is <strong>the</strong>refore just a construct. Whe<strong>the</strong>r it is labelled la<br />
religión de Lucumí, Yoruba religion, religión de los orichas or Santería, my aim is to<br />
describe <strong>the</strong> religious practices <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. 62<br />
The History <strong>of</strong> Santería <strong>in</strong> Cuba<br />
The development <strong>of</strong> Santería <strong>in</strong> Cuba follows a quite similar history to that <strong>of</strong> Vodou<br />
<strong>in</strong> Haiti and is connected with <strong>the</strong> slave trade. In contrast to most o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
islands Cuba saw <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> various religious traditions, hence Santería is<br />
62 Mason also uses <strong>the</strong> term Santería <strong>in</strong> his publications; see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Mason 2002.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 71<br />
not <strong>the</strong> only Afro-Cuban religion on <strong>the</strong> island though it is <strong>the</strong> most visible and most<br />
popular. In a similar way to <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, Santería is based on<br />
Yoruba tradition because <strong>of</strong> a large number <strong>of</strong> Yoruba who were enslaved and sent to<br />
Cuba at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> eighteenth century.<br />
George Bandon divides <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> Santería <strong>in</strong>to five periods. The first phase,<br />
called by Brandon <strong>the</strong> African and Pre-Santería period (until 1760), <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong><br />
formation <strong>of</strong> Yoruba city-states and <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> transatlantic slave trade.<br />
Shortly after <strong>the</strong> Spanish conquest <strong>in</strong> 1492 Cuba experienced an economic boom<br />
based on sugar production where enslaved Africans and suppressed <strong>in</strong>digenous<br />
people had to work side by side. After approximately three-quarters <strong>of</strong> a century<br />
Spa<strong>in</strong> lost its <strong>in</strong>terest <strong>in</strong> sugar and focused more on South America and its gold<br />
resources. Freed slaves as well as <strong>in</strong>digenous and White settlers were able to avoid<br />
public control and started to settle <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> island. The result was <strong>the</strong> birth<br />
<strong>of</strong> a peasant population with a rural economy (Brandon 1993: 4). This period led to<br />
<strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> a relatively homogeneous Creole culture.<br />
The second phase, between 1760 and 1870, <strong>the</strong> early Santería period, started with<br />
a sugar boom that led to <strong>in</strong>creased importation <strong>of</strong> enslaved people and as a result<br />
to <strong>the</strong> establishment <strong>of</strong> a racist slave system. Toge<strong>the</strong>r with Africans a significant<br />
number <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous people from Yucatán were imported as well as Ch<strong>in</strong>ese<br />
workers, but Africans, <strong>in</strong> particular from <strong>the</strong> Ben<strong>in</strong> area, constituted <strong>the</strong> largest<br />
group. The owners <strong>of</strong> large sugar, c<strong>of</strong>fee and tobacco estates became rulers <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
new society which was divided <strong>in</strong>to classes. The Roman Catholic Church began<br />
to evangelize <strong>the</strong> enslaved Africans and an early version <strong>of</strong> Santería developed<br />
(Brandon 1993: 5). The Spanish government used <strong>the</strong> church to pacify <strong>the</strong> slaves<br />
and allowed <strong>the</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> Yoruba deities and Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>ts, which, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end,<br />
led to <strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> new Afro-Catholic religions. Already <strong>in</strong> 1598 <strong>the</strong> first Black<br />
c<strong>of</strong>radía, a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> lay bro<strong>the</strong>rhood, had been founded. This was protected by <strong>the</strong><br />
church <strong>in</strong> Cuba and enabled <strong>the</strong> enslaved Africans to ga<strong>the</strong>r toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> order to<br />
worship sa<strong>in</strong>ts with danc<strong>in</strong>g and s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g. In <strong>the</strong> second phase, <strong>the</strong>se associations<br />
ga<strong>in</strong>ed more importance under <strong>the</strong> pressure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> first massive slave imports. After<br />
a while <strong>the</strong> c<strong>of</strong>radías developed <strong>in</strong>to cabildos de nación, social associations whose<br />
ma<strong>in</strong> function was <strong>the</strong> religious education <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir members (see Sandoval 1975: 45,<br />
Palmié 1991: 106–8 and Schmidt 1995: 251–3).<br />
The third phase, between 1870 and 1959, is <strong>the</strong> transformative period <strong>in</strong> which<br />
Santería was f<strong>in</strong>ally construed as a predom<strong>in</strong>ant Yoruba-Spiritist-Catholic mixture<br />
(Brandon 1993: 5). 63 Shortly before <strong>the</strong> abolition <strong>of</strong> slavery, when <strong>the</strong> resistance became<br />
stronger and stronger, <strong>the</strong> pressure on cabildos de nación <strong>in</strong>creased until every public<br />
procession became prohibited. After <strong>the</strong> abolition <strong>of</strong> slavery <strong>in</strong> 1886 <strong>the</strong>y lost <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
religious status and, as a result, <strong>the</strong> protection <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church. When<br />
most former slaves migrated from <strong>the</strong> countryside to urban centres, <strong>the</strong>y transformed<br />
<strong>the</strong> cabildos de nación <strong>in</strong>to small house temples, <strong>the</strong> casas de santos.<br />
63 Spiritism is a French system <strong>of</strong> belief <strong>in</strong> spirits based on <strong>the</strong> beliefs <strong>of</strong> Allan Kardec,<br />
which spread among White Cubans dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century before it started to <strong>in</strong>fluence<br />
<strong>the</strong> Afro-Cuban religion.
72<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
After its <strong>in</strong>dependence from Spa<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> 1898 Cuba, as well as Puerto Rico and <strong>the</strong><br />
Philipp<strong>in</strong>es, was occupied by <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, though only for a few months (<strong>in</strong> contrast to<br />
Puerto Rico). None<strong>the</strong>less <strong>the</strong> short occupation <strong>in</strong>creased racism levels, as Brandon<br />
describes, and <strong>in</strong>fected Cuba ‘with a racial virus even more virulent than <strong>the</strong> homegrown<br />
variety’ (1993: 81). Many White Cubans discrim<strong>in</strong>ated aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong>ir Black<br />
neighbours and denied <strong>the</strong>ir efforts dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> war <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dependence. The White<br />
Cubans ignored <strong>the</strong> fact that for Black Cubans many sections <strong>of</strong> society were still<br />
closed. For example, <strong>the</strong>y were excluded from elections because <strong>the</strong>y were illiterate.<br />
The ethnic and racial situation became <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly tense under US <strong>in</strong>fluence<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> first decades <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century and led <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end to a denial <strong>of</strong><br />
Afro-Cuban identity. Consequently <strong>the</strong> cabildos developed secret societies that had<br />
to hide <strong>the</strong>ir ceremonies because drumm<strong>in</strong>g was prohibited (Brandon 1993: 85).<br />
In order to establish a society with a White majority <strong>the</strong> government supported <strong>the</strong><br />
immigration <strong>of</strong> European settlers, <strong>in</strong> particular from Spa<strong>in</strong>, though on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand<br />
<strong>in</strong>dustrialists hired several Black workers from <strong>the</strong> British West Indies as well as<br />
from Haiti (Brandon 1993: 80) and <strong>the</strong>se also <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> Afro-Cuban religion.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> 1920s Fernando Ortiz’s work began to be <strong>in</strong>fluential. As a lawyer Ortiz<br />
focused at first on <strong>the</strong> assumed crim<strong>in</strong>al activities <strong>of</strong> Afro-Cuban religions, but<br />
after a while he moved more deeply <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>of</strong> Afro-Cuban culture. 64<br />
His studies belonged to <strong>the</strong> first academic <strong>in</strong>vestigations <strong>in</strong>to Afro-Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
cultures and led <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1920s to <strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> Afrocubanidad, an Afro-Cuban<br />
movement which <strong>in</strong>spired many Cuban artists and <strong>in</strong>tellectuals such as Alejo<br />
Carpentier. Brandon regards this movement as ‘response to <strong>the</strong> political, social,<br />
and cultural problems <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cuban Republic and as a response to <strong>in</strong>ternational<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> European artistic and <strong>in</strong>tellectual avant-garde <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> time’<br />
(1993: 90). Important <strong>in</strong>fluences came, for <strong>in</strong>stance, from <strong>the</strong> Harlem Renaissance<br />
but also from Leo Frobenius’s publications. In particular babalawos (ifá priests) still<br />
refer to Frobenius when <strong>the</strong>y want to prove <strong>the</strong> African essence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir religion and<br />
its apparent Egyptian roots.<br />
A consequence <strong>of</strong> this movement was a stronger orientation to Afro-Cuban<br />
religions though only <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> urban centres where <strong>in</strong> particular Santería became<br />
fashionable. More and more artists and <strong>in</strong>tellectuals became santeras and santeros,<br />
and even <strong>the</strong> middle class eventually accepted Santería. As a consequence <strong>of</strong><br />
Afrocubanidad, Santería was no longer regarded as superstition or crim<strong>in</strong>ality but as<br />
folklore (Brandon 1993: 93).<br />
This phase ended with <strong>the</strong> Cuban revolution, which fostered an ambivalent<br />
relationship to Afro-Cuban religions. Despite <strong>the</strong> revolution’s non-religious attitude<br />
<strong>the</strong> Afro-Cuban religions became accepted as part <strong>of</strong> national heritage, though ma<strong>in</strong>ly<br />
as part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> traditional Cuban popular belief system. However, Santería rema<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
a secret movement because this was its custom and because most practitioners did<br />
not trust <strong>the</strong> government and feared fur<strong>the</strong>r restrictions (Brandon 1993: 101). Steven<br />
Gregory states that most santeras and santeros left Cuba after <strong>the</strong> revolution, hence<br />
64 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Los negros brujos published <strong>in</strong> 1906 (Ortiz 1973). For <strong>in</strong>formation<br />
about his work, see Bremer 1993, who mentions <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Italian crim<strong>in</strong>ologist<br />
Cesare Lombroso on Ortiz.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 73<br />
its public obscurity after that time. But I am reluctant to follow his argument. As<br />
Gregory also confirms (1986: 56–7), <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> first years after <strong>the</strong> revolution most<br />
refugees – who came from a relatively high social status and were classified <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>USA</strong> as White – had little connection with Santería <strong>in</strong> Cuba, while most practitioners<br />
<strong>in</strong> Cuba before <strong>the</strong> revolution were considered to be Black.<br />
The revolution led to <strong>the</strong> fragmentation <strong>of</strong> Santería <strong>in</strong>to various sections that created<br />
different forms <strong>of</strong> worship (<strong>the</strong> fifth period). Brandon dist<strong>in</strong>guishes two forms <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>USA</strong>, <strong>the</strong> mixture with Puerto Rican Spiritism, called by Brandon Santerismo, 65 and<br />
<strong>the</strong> mixture with Black Nationalism, called Orisha-Vodou. Similarly to Santerismo,<br />
<strong>the</strong> latter orig<strong>in</strong>ated <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> (between 1959 and 1969) but developed later<br />
<strong>in</strong> South Carol<strong>in</strong>a (Brandon 1993: 6). Inspired by <strong>the</strong> Cuban Santería, Walter Eugene<br />
K<strong>in</strong>g, an African-American from <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> who later became known as His Majesty<br />
Oba Efuntola Oseijeman Adelabu Adefunmi I, constructed <strong>in</strong> South Carol<strong>in</strong>a a village<br />
called Oyotunji (between 1970 and 1971), which was, accord<strong>in</strong>g to Palmié, a replica<br />
<strong>of</strong> a traditional Yoruba city state (1989: 189).<br />
Apart from <strong>the</strong> two <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> developments Brandon focuses on, <strong>the</strong>re<br />
have been o<strong>the</strong>r developments s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> Cuban revolution, one among <strong>the</strong> migrants<br />
<strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r areas <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> Florida, one <strong>in</strong> Cuba itself and a third but<br />
younger development is <strong>the</strong> global spread <strong>of</strong> Santería outside <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> and Cuba. 66<br />
While before <strong>the</strong> revolution most migrants settled <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and <strong>New</strong> Jersey, <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> first decades after <strong>the</strong> revolution nearly all migrated to Miami, which became <strong>the</strong><br />
centre <strong>of</strong> Cuban refugees. For Cubans <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> middle class, Santería became a way<br />
to overcome terror and alienation (see Sosa 1981: 107–8). The former Afro-Cuban<br />
religion experienced a phase <strong>of</strong> blanqueamiento (becom<strong>in</strong>g ‘whiter’) connected<br />
to a massive commercialization. In this period <strong>the</strong> price for consultation <strong>in</strong>creased<br />
dramatically as did <strong>the</strong> price for <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation steps. At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s<br />
<strong>the</strong> blanqueamiento had led to <strong>the</strong> exclusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> so-called marielitos, <strong>the</strong> Cubans<br />
who fled <strong>in</strong> large numbers <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s and came predom<strong>in</strong>antly from <strong>the</strong> lower<br />
social classes (Palmié 1991: 201–2). The first refugees rejected <strong>the</strong> Black marielitos,<br />
and <strong>the</strong> marielitos rejected <strong>the</strong> commercialization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir religion. However, <strong>the</strong><br />
numbers provided by Palmié demonstrate <strong>the</strong> spread <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion among Cubans<br />
<strong>in</strong> Miami. He estimates that at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s (dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> his research)<br />
at least 50,000 people were members <strong>of</strong> a casa de santo and that 10 per cent <strong>of</strong> all<br />
Cubans practised Santería <strong>in</strong> Miami though an even larger number participated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
festivals or consulted a priest regularly (Palmié 1989: 186).<br />
The commercialization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion <strong>in</strong> Florida was accompanied by a<br />
renaissance <strong>in</strong> Cuba. After years <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion be<strong>in</strong>g regarded as folklore <strong>the</strong><br />
government recognized its economic significance and created a special <strong>of</strong>fice <strong>in</strong><br />
order to ga<strong>in</strong> pr<strong>of</strong>it. Foreigners who wanted to get <strong>in</strong>to contact with <strong>the</strong> religions<br />
had to go to this <strong>of</strong>fice that handled, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiations <strong>of</strong> non-Cubans. In<br />
this period <strong>the</strong> religion spread more and more among non-Cubans. In addition to<br />
Puerto Ricans who had already become <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> Afro-Cuban religions <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
65 I prefer <strong>the</strong> term African Spiritism, see Schmidt 1995: 267.<br />
66 Brandon’s book presents just <strong>the</strong> first part <strong>of</strong> his Ph.D. <strong>the</strong>sis, which could expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
limitation.
74<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
1940s <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, African-Americans jo<strong>in</strong>ed Santería communities. Santería<br />
also started to migrate to o<strong>the</strong>r countries such as Venezuela where it mixed with<br />
elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> María Lionza cult (Pollak-Eltz 1995: 82). S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1990s Santería<br />
has spread via <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternet to o<strong>the</strong>r regions, with Santería priests develop<strong>in</strong>g more<br />
websites daily, as Manfred Kremser describes. Through <strong>the</strong>ir own websites priests<br />
<strong>of</strong>fer paraphernalia but also consultation, even <strong>in</strong>itiation through <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternet. 67 Most<br />
priests reject <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g commercialization, but not so much that <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> priests as<br />
that <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> clients. One babalawo once stated <strong>in</strong> a public discussion that ‘la religión<br />
no es un supermercado’ (<strong>the</strong> religion is not a supermarket). He would send people<br />
look<strong>in</strong>g for psychiatric treatment to a psychiatrist because Santería is a religion and<br />
does not <strong>of</strong>fer help for every problem. While no o<strong>the</strong>r priests rejected his claim dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> discussion, I got <strong>the</strong> impression that this is exactly how Santería works. People<br />
start to go to a priest <strong>in</strong> times <strong>of</strong> trouble. All priests at this round table stated <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
responsibility to work toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> order to prevent Santería becom<strong>in</strong>g a fashion. But<br />
while <strong>the</strong>y defend <strong>the</strong> Cuban version <strong>of</strong> Santería, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> worship <strong>of</strong> Catholic<br />
sa<strong>in</strong>ts and Spiritism, a different group <strong>of</strong> believers try to ‘africanize’ <strong>the</strong> religion. In<br />
contrast to <strong>the</strong> babalawos <strong>the</strong>y try to cleanse <strong>the</strong> religion <strong>of</strong> Catholic iconography<br />
and o<strong>the</strong>r elements that are regarded as impure (as I will show later). In sum <strong>the</strong><br />
religion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas represents a colourful picture with cont<strong>in</strong>uous changes <strong>in</strong><br />
various directions and with conservative tendencies at <strong>the</strong> same time.<br />
The History <strong>of</strong> Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
There is only vague <strong>in</strong>formation available about early Santería practices <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. In <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g Santería was practised by Cuban migrants <strong>in</strong> private<br />
ceremonies and only at small house altars. There is some <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong><br />
arrival <strong>of</strong> Cuban migrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> city s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century but no data about<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir religious orientation. The first pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> a Cuban babalawo <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> dates from <strong>the</strong> 1940s, though <strong>the</strong>re were probably a significant number <strong>of</strong><br />
santeras and santeros <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> before that (Gregory 1986: 55).<br />
In <strong>the</strong> first decades no large religious ceremony could be celebrated outside<br />
Cuba. Hence <strong>the</strong> arrival <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> babalawo Francisco (Pancho) Mora <strong>in</strong> 1946 marked<br />
an important turn<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> Santería (Friedman 1982: 54–5). Though<br />
his efforts to reunite all practitioners <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>in</strong>to a federation were<br />
ultimately unsuccessful, <strong>the</strong> number <strong>of</strong> practitioners grew under his <strong>in</strong>fluence, <strong>in</strong><br />
particular <strong>the</strong> number <strong>of</strong> non-Cubans among <strong>the</strong>m. Marta Moreno Vega, <strong>the</strong> Puerto<br />
Rican founder <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural Center <strong>in</strong> Manhattan mentioned <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last<br />
chapter, describes Mora’s belief system <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g words:<br />
Mora’s belief <strong>in</strong> this ancient tradition and his desire to ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong> his belief system motivated<br />
him to found <strong>the</strong> first Orisha community <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> city. From his pioneer<strong>in</strong>g work, tradition<br />
has grown to <strong>in</strong>clude thousands <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiates from all walks <strong>of</strong> life and ethnic groups. He<br />
has <strong>in</strong>itiated several thousand grandchildren from varied pr<strong>of</strong>essions and <strong>in</strong>ternational<br />
67 See <strong>the</strong> paper by Kremser presented at <strong>the</strong> meet<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> work<strong>in</strong>g group Afro-America<br />
See <strong>the</strong> paper by Kremser presented at <strong>the</strong> meet<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> work<strong>in</strong>g group Afro-America<br />
at <strong>the</strong> conference <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> German Association <strong>of</strong> Anthropology <strong>in</strong> Frankfurt, 9.10.1997. See<br />
also Kremser 2003.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 75<br />
backgrounds, and has traveled extensively to Lat<strong>in</strong> America and nationally to perform<br />
rituals and spread <strong>the</strong> practice <strong>of</strong> Santería. (1995: 202)<br />
Accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>in</strong>formation given by <strong>the</strong> musician Julito Collazo, who was hired with<br />
Francisco Agaubella as a member <strong>of</strong> Ka<strong>the</strong>r<strong>in</strong>e Dunham’s dance troupe <strong>in</strong> 1952<br />
and decided <strong>in</strong> 1955 to settle <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, <strong>the</strong>re were only twenty-five people<br />
practis<strong>in</strong>g Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> when he arrived (Vega 1995: 202). I assume,<br />
however, that <strong>the</strong> number was much higher because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuality and diversity<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious practices. As previously mentioned, not all practitioners refer to <strong>the</strong><br />
central ifá cult but prefer to practise <strong>in</strong> a more personal, private way. None<strong>the</strong>less,<br />
<strong>the</strong> arrival <strong>of</strong> Collazo changed <strong>the</strong> practice <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> because for <strong>the</strong> first<br />
time an omo añya, a musician <strong>in</strong>itiated to <strong>the</strong> cult <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> oricha Añya, <strong>the</strong> master<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> drums, was present <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> city, hence available for ceremonies. At this time,<br />
when <strong>the</strong> community was grow<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> Santería practice was <strong>the</strong> Upper<br />
West Side <strong>in</strong> Manhattan, which was <strong>in</strong>habited ma<strong>in</strong>ly by Cuban and Puerto Rican<br />
migrants. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Vega it also became <strong>the</strong> place <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> first <strong>in</strong>itiation celebrated<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>in</strong> 1961 (1995: 203).<br />
The first group <strong>of</strong> non-Cubans attracted to Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> were<br />
Puerto Ricans who had been <strong>in</strong>troduced to Santería by <strong>the</strong>ir Cuban neighbours <strong>in</strong><br />
Spanish Harlem before <strong>the</strong> Cuban revolution. As mentioned above, <strong>the</strong>y comb<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
<strong>the</strong> Cuban religion with Puerto Rican Spiritism, espiritismo popular. Even today<br />
<strong>the</strong>re are Cubans who occasionally accuse <strong>the</strong>m <strong>of</strong> hav<strong>in</strong>g ‘messed up’ <strong>the</strong> religion. 68<br />
Particularly <strong>in</strong> Puerto Rico, but also <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, Puerto Rican Spiritism and Cuban<br />
Santería have <strong>in</strong>fluenced each o<strong>the</strong>r and have, after a while, created a new form (see<br />
Schmidt 1995: 306). Even today Spiritism is valued as a way <strong>of</strong> enter<strong>in</strong>g Santería,<br />
and candidates are <strong>of</strong>ten sent to ask <strong>the</strong> spirits before go<strong>in</strong>g through an <strong>in</strong>itiation.<br />
The second group <strong>of</strong> non-Cubans who approached Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> were African-Americans, who were English-speak<strong>in</strong>g and predom<strong>in</strong>antly<br />
Protestant-raised US citizens. In Santería <strong>the</strong>y recognized a basis for a common<br />
African identity <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants and African-Americans (Gregory 1987: 322).<br />
Between 1960 and 1970 <strong>the</strong>re was a Yoruba temple <strong>in</strong> Harlem, <strong>the</strong> predecessor <strong>of</strong><br />
Oyotunji <strong>in</strong> South Carol<strong>in</strong>a, which had a pr<strong>of</strong>ound <strong>in</strong>fluence on <strong>the</strong> Black community.<br />
After K<strong>in</strong>g moved to South Carol<strong>in</strong>a <strong>the</strong> rema<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g members <strong>of</strong> his temple jo<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
Cuban houses that after a while transformed <strong>in</strong>to Black Houses (Curry 1991: 8).<br />
The arrival <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> marielitos changed <strong>the</strong> situation <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> dramatically<br />
because for <strong>the</strong> first time a large number <strong>of</strong> ritual specialists decided to settle <strong>the</strong>re,<br />
as Steven Harry Cornelius records. He dist<strong>in</strong>guishes three phases <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> development<br />
<strong>of</strong> ritual drumm<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. The first started at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1940s with<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>troduction <strong>of</strong> music at rituals by Cuban musicians. In <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1960s,<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> second period, drummers developed <strong>the</strong>ir own quite unique style. They<br />
mixed various elements toge<strong>the</strong>r and ga<strong>the</strong>red <strong>in</strong>formation from books such as<br />
Fernando Ortiz’s publications, which became important sources. The arrival <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
marielitos, <strong>the</strong> advent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> third period, changed <strong>the</strong> situation because suddenly<br />
68 As George Brandon said, Cubans th<strong>in</strong>k that ‘Puerto Ricans have messed up <strong>the</strong><br />
As George Brandon said, Cubans th<strong>in</strong>k that ‘Puerto Ricans have messed up <strong>the</strong><br />
religion’, personal communication, 23.12.1998.
76<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
musicians tra<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> ritual music were present <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. They restructured<br />
<strong>the</strong> music scene and set up a strict hierarchy (Cornelius 1989: 53). In do<strong>in</strong>g so <strong>the</strong>y<br />
excluded drummers without consecration, <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> wrong gender or <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> wrong sexual<br />
orientation from rituals. While dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> 1960s and 1970s <strong>the</strong> exclusion <strong>of</strong> women<br />
and homosexuals from ritual drumm<strong>in</strong>g was ma<strong>in</strong>ly ignored, it was brought to light<br />
aga<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s (Cornelius 1989: 66). Cuban priests are regarded as be<strong>in</strong>g ‘muy<br />
celoso’, which can be translated as be<strong>in</strong>g very ambitious or even jealous. Ask<strong>in</strong>g<br />
about <strong>the</strong> significance <strong>of</strong> this statement I was told, for <strong>in</strong>stance, that <strong>the</strong>y do not like<br />
it when people get <strong>in</strong>itiated <strong>in</strong> Nigeria.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1990s <strong>the</strong> situation changed aga<strong>in</strong>. After decades <strong>of</strong> relatively<br />
unorganized and ma<strong>in</strong>ly private practice <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> among Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
migrants and later African-Americans, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1990s <strong>the</strong> new Cuban migrants started<br />
to <strong>in</strong>corporate Cuban structures and hierarchy. In addition <strong>the</strong>y <strong>in</strong>troduced new ways<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>stitutionalization such as <strong>the</strong> foundation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> so-called egbes at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
1990s. These houses focus on <strong>the</strong> cult <strong>of</strong> one oricha who is honoured regularly with<br />
religious festivals, even with its own music and songs. I was told that <strong>in</strong> spite <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
African names <strong>the</strong>se houses are not traditional African <strong>in</strong>stitutions. The traditional<br />
African structure is based on family organizations, a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> ‘<strong>in</strong>visible egbes’. 69 In<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, however, <strong>of</strong>ten not everyone <strong>in</strong> a family practises Santería, hence<br />
<strong>the</strong> practitioners need an alternative organization for collective ritual practice. One<br />
aim <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> egbes is to get enough money to buy property because one problem <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Santería communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> property for religious<br />
ceremonies. 70 Accord<strong>in</strong>g to my <strong>in</strong>formation <strong>the</strong> egbes are try<strong>in</strong>g to ignore <strong>the</strong> power<br />
struggle between <strong>the</strong> different Santería communities and focus on <strong>the</strong> worship <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
oricha, but one egbe has already had to close because <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternal power struggles.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> my research approximately one million santeros and santeras<br />
lived <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> tri-state area <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, <strong>New</strong> Jersey and Connecticut, 71 but this number<br />
is only an estimation. The exact number <strong>of</strong> ritual houses and <strong>the</strong>ir members cannot<br />
be calculated because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> private and secret manner <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> practice. None<strong>the</strong>less<br />
one can observe an <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>in</strong> Santería practices <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, even among<br />
European-Americans who have approached <strong>the</strong> religion <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last decade because<br />
<strong>of</strong> its aes<strong>the</strong>tic dimension; <strong>in</strong> particular its music and dance attract newcomers. I<br />
was told that <strong>the</strong>re were even Asian-Americans practis<strong>in</strong>g Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> and beyond, though I cannot testify to this. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to my observation <strong>the</strong><br />
majority are still Cuban and Puerto Rican believers who celebrate most ceremonies<br />
toge<strong>the</strong>r. They reject <strong>the</strong> attempts <strong>of</strong> African-Americans to ‘clean’ <strong>the</strong> religion and<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>ue to practise <strong>the</strong> Cuban style. Because <strong>the</strong>y speak Spanish (with some songs<br />
<strong>in</strong> Lucumí) dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ceremonies, <strong>the</strong>y – perhaps unconsciously – exclude most<br />
African-Americans who <strong>of</strong>ten do not speak Spanish.<br />
69 Judith Gleason, personal communication, 23.12.1998.<br />
70 At <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> my research <strong>the</strong> egbe Obatala had tried to buy a house for ceremonies,<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>in</strong>formation given by Manny Vega, 23.12.1998.<br />
71 Felix Sanabria, personal communication,18.2.1998.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 77<br />
Santeras and Santeros <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, <strong>the</strong>ir Worldview and Ritual Practice<br />
The description <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious worldview <strong>of</strong> Santería is only possible if we<br />
ignore its <strong>in</strong>ner fragmentations for a while. Generalizations are questionable <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
anthropology <strong>of</strong> religion though unfortunately unavoidable <strong>in</strong> this case because <strong>of</strong><br />
my decision to present more than one community. The follow<strong>in</strong>g description is based<br />
on observations <strong>of</strong> ceremonies and <strong>in</strong>terviews with various santeros and santeras<br />
and o<strong>the</strong>r people who practise some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rituals without be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>itiated.<br />
In a similar way to Vodou, Santería is centred on <strong>the</strong> belief <strong>in</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e entities, <strong>the</strong><br />
orichas. 72 Oricha is <strong>the</strong> term for Yoruba deities that toge<strong>the</strong>r with <strong>the</strong> egúns – <strong>the</strong><br />
spirits <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dead – <strong>in</strong>fluence human be<strong>in</strong>gs. In <strong>the</strong> religious hierarchy orichas are<br />
below Ol<strong>of</strong>i, <strong>the</strong> almighty god, creator <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> earth and all human be<strong>in</strong>gs, who is<br />
worshipped as <strong>the</strong> highest god though only a few people can approach Ol<strong>of</strong>i directly.<br />
The orichas are equipped – quite similarly to <strong>the</strong> lwa – with human activities and<br />
human characteristics that allow human be<strong>in</strong>gs to manipulate <strong>the</strong> orichas. Ochún,<br />
for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> goddess <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> river, loves sweets and can be pacified with honey.<br />
If she mounts someone, she appears beautiful and full <strong>of</strong> grace. Changó, on <strong>the</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>r hand, <strong>the</strong> god <strong>of</strong> thunder, loves alcoholic beverages and manifests himself<br />
<strong>in</strong> loudness and arrogance. Every oricha is connected to a Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>t but as I<br />
have already expla<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> section about Vodou, <strong>the</strong> analogy is ma<strong>in</strong>ly based<br />
on iconography. Changó, for <strong>in</strong>stance, is identified as Sa<strong>in</strong>t Barbara because she<br />
is <strong>of</strong>ten portrayed with a thunderbolt. Practitioners today use <strong>the</strong> Catholic analogy<br />
quite differently. While <strong>the</strong> images <strong>of</strong> orichas are still important for many Cuban<br />
and Puerto Rican believers <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> – <strong>the</strong> babalawo Elpidio Cardenas,<br />
for <strong>in</strong>stance, stated that ‘Santos es la familia’ (Sa<strong>in</strong>ts are <strong>the</strong> family), mo<strong>the</strong>r and<br />
fa<strong>the</strong>r for <strong>the</strong> believers 73 – African-American believers and o<strong>the</strong>rs reject <strong>the</strong> analogy<br />
vehemently. But, as Manny Vega has said, ‘people have <strong>the</strong> choice whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y use<br />
Catholic images or not’. 74<br />
The communication between human be<strong>in</strong>gs and orichas is <strong>the</strong> central part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
religious practice, <strong>in</strong> particular dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> short physical existence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas<br />
on earth while <strong>the</strong>y mount <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> a human be<strong>in</strong>g who has a special connection<br />
to <strong>the</strong> oricha. Every human be<strong>in</strong>g has a special relationship to one oricha though<br />
one is <strong>of</strong>ten not aware <strong>of</strong> it until a priest discovers <strong>the</strong> connection dur<strong>in</strong>g an oracle<br />
consultation. The <strong>in</strong>itiation confirms this connection and streng<strong>the</strong>ns it by plac<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> oricha <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> head <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> candidate. This connection <strong>in</strong>fluences a human be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
from birth; it forms <strong>the</strong> character <strong>of</strong> a person and <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>the</strong>ir dest<strong>in</strong>y. Some<br />
problems are believed to be caused by an oricha who wants its ‘child’ to establish<br />
<strong>the</strong> connection. The oricha <strong>the</strong>n forces <strong>the</strong> person to become <strong>in</strong>itiated by caus<strong>in</strong>g<br />
problems, even by uncontrolled spirit manifestations. Santeros and santeras consider<br />
uncontrolled manifestation dangerous and <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>of</strong>ten prohibit <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong><br />
untra<strong>in</strong>ed persons dur<strong>in</strong>g certa<strong>in</strong> ceremonies that attract orichas. Someone has to<br />
72 For <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> worldview <strong>of</strong> Santería, see Schmidt 1995: 270–302, Sánchez<br />
Cárdenas 1978, and Canizares 1993.<br />
73 Cardenas, personal communication, 3.10.1998.<br />
74 Manny Vega, personal communication, 23.12.1998.
78<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
learn to end a manifestation; o<strong>the</strong>rwise <strong>the</strong> oricha could become too fasc<strong>in</strong>ated by its<br />
physical existence and could refuse to leave <strong>the</strong> body aga<strong>in</strong>. Dur<strong>in</strong>g one ceremony <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Bronx I observed that some women tried to stop <strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> Oya <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
body <strong>of</strong> a pregnant woman but were unsuccessful. Only with <strong>the</strong> help <strong>of</strong> a priest did<br />
<strong>the</strong> woman recover control over her body.<br />
Though <strong>the</strong>se manifestations are central for <strong>the</strong> believers <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>,<br />
some priests, <strong>in</strong> particular ifá priests, regard <strong>the</strong>m as secondary. Ifá is considered to<br />
be <strong>the</strong> most powerful and important oracle, which enables its priests to <strong>in</strong>vestigate<br />
<strong>the</strong> dest<strong>in</strong>y <strong>of</strong> a person. Ifá occupies a central position <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion, def<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g its<br />
essence and its philosophical concepts, as <strong>the</strong> Cuban babalawo Elpidio Cardenas has<br />
stated. 75 In order to <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>the</strong>ir prestige some babalawos even argue that <strong>the</strong> roots<br />
<strong>of</strong> ifá came from Egypt via Nigeria to Cuba. Because <strong>the</strong> babalawos are more open<br />
<strong>in</strong> discuss<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir religion and <strong>of</strong>ten represent <strong>the</strong> religion to outsiders, <strong>in</strong> particular<br />
scholars, <strong>the</strong> literature creates <strong>the</strong> image that ifá and o<strong>the</strong>r oracle consultations are<br />
more important than <strong>the</strong> physical manifestations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas. 76 But my impression is<br />
that both div<strong>in</strong>ation practices are regarded as important ways <strong>of</strong> communication with<br />
<strong>the</strong> orichas. While <strong>the</strong> consultation is limited to priests and <strong>the</strong> spirit manifestation is<br />
open to anyone, <strong>the</strong> preference <strong>of</strong> believers <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is with <strong>the</strong> latter.<br />
In addition to div<strong>in</strong>ation practices believers have to celebrate certa<strong>in</strong> rituals, for<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance rituals <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas. Every believer, whe<strong>the</strong>r she/he is <strong>in</strong>itiated<br />
or not, has a small altar at home with religious symbols and <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs. Because it<br />
is unwise to have <strong>the</strong> altar near a bed (<strong>the</strong> oricha could become jealous) or openly<br />
displayed <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> visitors <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g room, many santeros and santeras put<br />
<strong>the</strong> altar <strong>in</strong>side a cupboard that can be shut if strangers enter <strong>the</strong> room. 77 But if <strong>the</strong>y<br />
have enough space <strong>the</strong>y prefer to build <strong>the</strong> altar <strong>in</strong> a corner <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g room or <strong>in</strong><br />
a separate room. Apart from a porcela<strong>in</strong> soup bowl that conta<strong>in</strong>s <strong>the</strong> sacred objects,<br />
<strong>the</strong>re is <strong>of</strong>ten a statue that resembles <strong>the</strong> Catholic equivalent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> oricha such<br />
as Virgen de Cobre for Ochún or Santa Barbara for Changó. Placed <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> it<br />
are flowers and o<strong>the</strong>r favourite <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs such as sweet w<strong>in</strong>e, perfume or honey for<br />
Ochún. Every oricha has a special celebration day accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> day <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sa<strong>in</strong>t<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic calendar. On this day every ‘child’ has to honour its oricha with<br />
special <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs, if possible a festival with a blood <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Apart from <strong>the</strong> orichas <strong>the</strong> believers have to honour <strong>the</strong> egúns. In particular<br />
Puerto Rican santeros and santeras, who are familiar with Spiritism, <strong>of</strong>ten have<br />
small tables with pictures <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir late friends and family members. In one house I<br />
even noticed four small tables with pictures and o<strong>the</strong>r souvenirs <strong>of</strong> dead ancestors.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g every ceremony one part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> celebration is reserved for <strong>the</strong> egúns who<br />
always have to be honoured with a ritual. Julio Sánchez Cárdenas dist<strong>in</strong>guishes<br />
between three groups <strong>of</strong> egúns: <strong>the</strong> egúns <strong>of</strong> dead people from <strong>the</strong> same ritual<br />
family, <strong>the</strong> egúns <strong>of</strong> late parents, and <strong>the</strong> personal egúns, which every human be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
75 ‘Ifá es todo.’ Elpidio Cardenas, 3.10.1998.<br />
76 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Sánchez Cárdenas 1978: 43–4, Fichte 1988: 389 or Cabrera 1992:<br />
29 where she def<strong>in</strong>es spirit manifestation as illness. See also D. Brown 2003: 149.<br />
77 Tak<strong>in</strong>g pictures <strong>of</strong> private altars is not allowed; hence I refer to Thomson 1993 for<br />
illustration.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 79<br />
receives at birth for protection (1978: 29). Accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>in</strong>formation I ga<strong>the</strong>red <strong>in</strong><br />
Puerto Rico <strong>the</strong> ancestor cult concentrates on religious ra<strong>the</strong>r than personal l<strong>in</strong>eage;<br />
hence <strong>the</strong> person to whom <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual is ritually connected, such as a godparent<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiate, will be prayed to (Schmidt 1995: 276). In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> I received<br />
a different impression. I noticed a strong orientation to parents and grandparents<br />
whose memory one should always honour, as I was told several times. These<br />
different po<strong>in</strong>ts <strong>of</strong> reference may depend on <strong>the</strong> people I spoke with. In Puerto Rico<br />
my ma<strong>in</strong> contacts were priests who perhaps hoped to receive special devotion after<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir death; <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, however, I spoke ma<strong>in</strong>ly with santeros and santeras<br />
who did not work as priests and whose godparents were still alive. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>in</strong><br />
both cases <strong>the</strong> religious community is based on <strong>the</strong> ritual relationship between a<br />
santero or santera and his or her padr<strong>in</strong>o or madr<strong>in</strong>a (godfa<strong>the</strong>r or godmo<strong>the</strong>r), <strong>the</strong><br />
person <strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation.<br />
Every santero and santera is connected to <strong>the</strong> ritual house <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> padr<strong>in</strong>o or<br />
madr<strong>in</strong>a until death, even if <strong>the</strong> priest moves out <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Everyone who<br />
is <strong>in</strong>itiated by <strong>the</strong> same priest belongs to <strong>the</strong> same ritual family, and hence are ritual<br />
bro<strong>the</strong>rs and sisters. In addition <strong>the</strong>y are connected to <strong>the</strong> ritual house <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
priest was orig<strong>in</strong>ally <strong>in</strong>itiated because <strong>the</strong>y also belong to his or her ritual family. An<br />
unknown santero or santera can <strong>the</strong>refore be identified through <strong>the</strong> ritual l<strong>in</strong>eage;<br />
members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> same ritual l<strong>in</strong>eage can expect support even from an unknown person<br />
just on <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> ritual k<strong>in</strong>ship. A priest visit<strong>in</strong>g a town can expect everyone who<br />
was <strong>in</strong>itiated by someone she or he has <strong>in</strong>itiated a long time ago to show respect<br />
and <strong>of</strong>fer a ritual welcome. The respect to godparents def<strong>in</strong>es <strong>the</strong> behaviour <strong>of</strong><br />
every santero and santera, and creates a network <strong>of</strong> relationships that can help <strong>in</strong><br />
any crisis. Even if some priests such as <strong>the</strong> Cuban iyalorisha (priestess) Zenaida<br />
Cardenas compla<strong>in</strong> about <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> respect and say that it is <strong>the</strong> cause <strong>of</strong> all evil, I<br />
cannot confirm this as I never observed any lack <strong>of</strong> respect. In same cases I noticed<br />
that <strong>the</strong> religious network even overcame tensions between groups, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> African-Americans who were ma<strong>in</strong>ly <strong>in</strong>itiated by Cubans.<br />
In addition to <strong>the</strong> ritual network that is particularly important for migrants, <strong>the</strong><br />
madr<strong>in</strong>as and padr<strong>in</strong>os represent an important attachment figure for a newcomer.<br />
In a similar way to Vodou priests madr<strong>in</strong>as and padr<strong>in</strong>os are responsible for all <strong>the</strong><br />
problems <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir ritual children, whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y are physical, psychological or social.<br />
Even if <strong>the</strong>y do not found a house or temple, <strong>the</strong>ir normal liv<strong>in</strong>g area transforms<br />
<strong>in</strong>to a sacred space where most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> consultations and treatment take place, even<br />
if it is only a small room as is <strong>the</strong> case with most flats <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. It is a bit<br />
problematic if someone moves out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city, perhaps to Florida, which happens<br />
quite <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Some problems can be handled by telephone, 78 but<br />
every santero and santera has to do a ‘registration’ at regular <strong>in</strong>tervals <strong>in</strong> which<br />
<strong>the</strong> condition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ashé, <strong>the</strong> spiritual essence <strong>of</strong> a human be<strong>in</strong>g, is controlled. 79 In<br />
78 Toni S., personal communication, 7.11.1998.<br />
79 Ashé is <strong>the</strong> power, <strong>the</strong> force, that has created all and that keeps everyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> harmony;<br />
ashé represents life, dest<strong>in</strong>y and <strong>the</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e; without ashé noth<strong>in</strong>g can exist; ashé dist<strong>in</strong>guishes<br />
between good and evil. Schmidt 1995: 278–9 based on an <strong>in</strong>terview with Yrm<strong>in</strong>o Valdés<br />
Garriz, <strong>the</strong> sadly already late priest.
80<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
addition, <strong>the</strong> anniversary <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation – <strong>the</strong> ritual ‘birthday’ – has to be celebrated<br />
every year. If f<strong>in</strong>ancially possible <strong>the</strong> priest visits <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> or <strong>the</strong> ‘godchild’<br />
visits <strong>the</strong> priest <strong>in</strong> Florida. If this is not possible <strong>the</strong> priest suggests someone else<br />
who has his/her confidence, which also happens <strong>in</strong> cases <strong>of</strong> emergency. 80 Often it is a<br />
priest <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> same ritual l<strong>in</strong>eage. None<strong>the</strong>less, no priest likes it if <strong>the</strong> ‘ritual children’<br />
consult o<strong>the</strong>r priests because it is considered leav<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> religious family. Only if a<br />
priest cannot solve a problem may ano<strong>the</strong>r priest be consulted, for <strong>in</strong>stance someone<br />
with a more powerful oricha. But <strong>the</strong> priest rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> reference person for<br />
every santero or santera until one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> two dies.<br />
Apart from this relationship that focuses on <strong>the</strong> private sector, Santería is also<br />
practised through participation at so-called bembés, large ceremonies which are <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
celebrated on <strong>the</strong> day <strong>of</strong> honour for an oricha, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>the</strong> festival for Changó<br />
is celebrated on 6 December, <strong>the</strong> day <strong>of</strong> Sa<strong>in</strong>t Barbara <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic calendar. The<br />
festival <strong>of</strong>fers <strong>the</strong> opportunity to communicate with <strong>the</strong> oricha directly when <strong>the</strong><br />
oricha mounts a body. The organization <strong>of</strong> a bembé can be demanded by an oricha <strong>in</strong><br />
exchange for services, or it is <strong>the</strong> last part <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>itiation or part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> anniversary.<br />
Members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ritual k<strong>in</strong>ship who give money or o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs support <strong>the</strong> person<br />
<strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> organization. Because people live <strong>in</strong> small spaces <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>y have to rent rooms for such an occasion. On one occasion, for <strong>in</strong>stance, I went<br />
to a party room <strong>in</strong> a car park and <strong>the</strong> next time to <strong>the</strong> basement <strong>of</strong> a house. In addition<br />
musicians have to be hired, <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>gs bought, meals cooked and people <strong>in</strong>vited, <strong>in</strong><br />
particular children <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r important orichas because <strong>the</strong>ir presence will perhaps<br />
lead to <strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r orichas. Hence, for a festival <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> Ochún<br />
someone has to come who is a child <strong>of</strong> Oya, <strong>the</strong> mo<strong>the</strong>r <strong>of</strong> Ochún, and someone for<br />
Changó, her lover. The o<strong>the</strong>r participants <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> festivals will be friends and family<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> sponsors, sometimes visitors, though <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> strangers is <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
not welcome because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ongo<strong>in</strong>g negative perception <strong>of</strong> Santería. 81 Strangers are<br />
<strong>of</strong>ten accused <strong>of</strong> be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>formants for <strong>the</strong> police or <strong>the</strong> ASPCA (American Society<br />
for <strong>the</strong> Prevention <strong>of</strong> Cruelty to Animals) (Gregory 1986: 121).<br />
In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> festivals are normally celebrated on a Saturday or Sunday<br />
and not on <strong>the</strong> usual day because a weekend ceremony is easier to arrange with<strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> normal bus<strong>in</strong>ess schedule. The night before <strong>the</strong> festival <strong>the</strong> sponsors build an<br />
impressive altar for <strong>the</strong> oricha <strong>in</strong> one corner <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> room. The ma<strong>in</strong> musician is<br />
responsible for <strong>the</strong> ceremonial order because <strong>the</strong> drums can call <strong>the</strong> orichas to mount<br />
a person. Normally people try to hire at least three batá drummers, but if possible<br />
more because <strong>the</strong> drummers have to take turns dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> long hours <strong>of</strong> drumm<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
O<strong>the</strong>r musicians will play <strong>the</strong> rattle. The musicians will receive rum and honey<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ceremony so that <strong>the</strong>ir throats do not get dry. 82<br />
In <strong>the</strong> first part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> bembé all will s<strong>in</strong>g special songs <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> altar<br />
for <strong>the</strong> oricha who will be celebrated dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> festival. After a short break <strong>the</strong><br />
second and ma<strong>in</strong> part will start with <strong>the</strong> songs for <strong>the</strong> warriors, a special category <strong>of</strong><br />
80 Carmen R., personal communication, 17.11.1998.<br />
81 Information from a conversation at <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural Center, 3.10.1998.<br />
82 The description <strong>of</strong> a bembé is based on my observation as well as on Mary Curry’s<br />
description, <strong>in</strong> Curry 1997: 95–7.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 81<br />
orichas. Afterwards <strong>the</strong> drummers will play <strong>the</strong> rhythms for <strong>the</strong> orichas <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> order<br />
<strong>the</strong> drummers decide. The ‘children’ <strong>of</strong> oricha will give money when <strong>the</strong> rhythm<br />
is played. After a while <strong>the</strong> participants will start danc<strong>in</strong>g. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Curry,<br />
<strong>the</strong> priests dance directly <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> drums while <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r alejos (believers<br />
after <strong>the</strong> first step <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation) dance beh<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong> priests (1997: 95). As soon as an<br />
oricha manifests itself <strong>in</strong> a body, <strong>the</strong> mounted person will be led to ano<strong>the</strong>r room<br />
where assistants will dress her or him <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> colours <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> oricha. Then <strong>the</strong> oricha<br />
welcomes all orichas who have higher prestige <strong>in</strong> a ritual way before <strong>the</strong> oricha will<br />
be welcomed him- or herself by m<strong>in</strong>or orichas and <strong>the</strong>n by santeros and santeras<br />
and o<strong>the</strong>r participants who have to lie down on <strong>the</strong> floor <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> oricha and<br />
welcome <strong>the</strong> oricha <strong>in</strong> a strict form. Only afterwards can <strong>the</strong> oricha be consulted.<br />
The assistants translate <strong>the</strong> sometimes-<strong>in</strong>comprehensible <strong>in</strong>structions and also<br />
provide <strong>the</strong> oricha with its favourite food. When <strong>the</strong> oricha leaves <strong>the</strong> body, <strong>the</strong><br />
person will be led aga<strong>in</strong> to ano<strong>the</strong>r room <strong>in</strong> order to get some rest. At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> bembé more and more orichas appear, <strong>of</strong>fer consultation to <strong>the</strong> participants,<br />
dance with <strong>the</strong>ir children and disappear aga<strong>in</strong>. It is quite chaotic while <strong>the</strong> drummers<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>uously call more orichas. At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>the</strong> sponsor puts a bucket <strong>of</strong> water <strong>in</strong><br />
front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> drums that change <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> rhythm for Elegba, <strong>the</strong> deity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cross<strong>in</strong>gs<br />
and roots. Some water is spr<strong>in</strong>kled <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> room and <strong>the</strong> rest on <strong>the</strong> street outside.<br />
Meanwhile <strong>the</strong> drummers play <strong>the</strong> last song <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> highest god, and end<br />
when <strong>the</strong> empty bucket is put upside down <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> drums. Then <strong>the</strong> religious<br />
part is over and <strong>the</strong> common meal starts. Afterwards <strong>the</strong> musicians go to <strong>the</strong> house<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> drummer where <strong>the</strong> ceremony ends with a small animal sacrifice for <strong>the</strong><br />
batá drums, <strong>of</strong>ten a chicken. 83<br />
Bembés are important festivals <strong>in</strong> Santería and are celebrated by various<br />
santeros and santeras toge<strong>the</strong>r. For this occasion members <strong>of</strong> different houses come<br />
toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> order to meet <strong>the</strong> orichas. Ceremonies such as <strong>in</strong>itiation to become a<br />
priest, anniversaries or <strong>the</strong> ‘read<strong>in</strong>g’ <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> year are performed <strong>in</strong> a more private<br />
space though a bembé is <strong>of</strong>ten part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se ceremonies. The private dimension <strong>of</strong><br />
Santería is also very important. A santero or santera has to honour <strong>the</strong> oricha and<br />
also <strong>the</strong> egúns on a daily basis. She or he has to observe strict regulations such as<br />
food restrictions. From <strong>the</strong> day someone receives <strong>the</strong> necklaces as <strong>the</strong> first step <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>itiation <strong>the</strong> oricha accompanies this person for <strong>the</strong> rest <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir life.<br />
Santería Between African-Americans and Lat<strong>in</strong>os <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
Gregory dist<strong>in</strong>guishes between <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> Santería for <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants,<br />
<strong>in</strong> particular from Cuba and Puerto Rico, and for African-Americans whom he<br />
compares with migrants from <strong>the</strong> second generation:<br />
For Cubans and o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>Caribbean</strong> immigrants, <strong>the</strong> practice <strong>of</strong> Santería has meant ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g<br />
important cultural l<strong>in</strong>ks with <strong>the</strong>ir pasts, as well as actively shap<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir immigrant<br />
83 Animals are sacrificed <strong>in</strong> exchange for a service done by an oricha or as settlement for<br />
wrong behaviour. I did not observe an animal sacrifice dur<strong>in</strong>g any bembés I attended <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. For an animal sacrifice a priest performs a special ceremony <strong>in</strong> a more private form.
82<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
experiences. For second-generation Hispanic practitioners and Black Americans, many young<br />
and college educated, <strong>the</strong> practice <strong>of</strong> Santería has meant assert<strong>in</strong>g a dist<strong>in</strong>ct cultural identity,<br />
rooted <strong>in</strong> African culture. Moreover, this conversion has led <strong>the</strong>m to appraise critically and<br />
restructure major aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir values, beliefs and social relations. (1987: 322–3)<br />
Puerto Rican believers recognize <strong>in</strong> Santería part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir cultural heritage, though<br />
<strong>the</strong> Yoruba <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Puerto Rican culture is smaller than <strong>the</strong> Bantu, which <strong>in</strong><br />
turn has <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> Cuban religion Palo Monte more. None<strong>the</strong>less Puerto Ricans<br />
discover <strong>the</strong> traditions <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir parents <strong>in</strong> Santería. Sometimes <strong>the</strong>y expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>se<br />
analogies with common <strong>in</strong>digenous roots and not with African ones. For <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
one believer once said to me that <strong>the</strong> common elements did not arrive with Columbus;<br />
a common basis had united <strong>the</strong> countries <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> and Central and South<br />
America s<strong>in</strong>ce pre-Columbian times. 84 In order to expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> attraction <strong>of</strong> Santería<br />
to <strong>Caribbean</strong>s and non-<strong>Caribbean</strong>s <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> I will describe two women and<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir approaches to <strong>the</strong> religion.<br />
The Puerto Rican dancer Marta S. refers to four attractions <strong>of</strong> Santería. The music<br />
and <strong>the</strong> beauty <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion have attracted her s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> first time she participated<br />
<strong>in</strong> a ceremony <strong>in</strong> Puerto Rico with her bro<strong>the</strong>r. Her padr<strong>in</strong>o, whom she met as an<br />
artist before he became her padr<strong>in</strong>o, <strong>the</strong>n showed her how <strong>the</strong> religion is connected<br />
to creativity because an ‘acto ritual’ (a ritual act) is always also an ‘acto creativo’ (a<br />
creative act). The altar <strong>of</strong> her padr<strong>in</strong>o is decorated with various art objects, while his<br />
art is <strong>in</strong>fluenced by his religion. The third attraction lay <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> performance. While<br />
<strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic Church suppressed festivals accord<strong>in</strong>g to Marta, <strong>the</strong>y are at <strong>the</strong><br />
centre <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious practice <strong>in</strong> Santería and embody <strong>the</strong> vitality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion.<br />
As a fourth aspect she mentioned <strong>the</strong> analogy between <strong>the</strong> religion and popular<br />
culture because <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion she recognized many traditions <strong>of</strong> her family that<br />
were previously just familial customs. She said that elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion were<br />
easily adapted to secular life because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> many festivals. None<strong>the</strong>less, despite her<br />
complex exam<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion she was not fully <strong>in</strong>itiated dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong><br />
my research; she had just passed <strong>the</strong> first steps. But she had already considered go<strong>in</strong>g<br />
through <strong>the</strong> last steps because an oracle had <strong>in</strong>formed her that an <strong>in</strong>itiation would<br />
empower her. She expected from an <strong>in</strong>itiation new experiences that would support<br />
her <strong>in</strong> her artistic work as well as give her a revelation <strong>of</strong> secrets. 85<br />
Carmen R., an African-American dancer, did not see any analogies between<br />
her upbr<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g and <strong>the</strong> religion <strong>in</strong> which she was <strong>in</strong>itiated five years before my<br />
meet<strong>in</strong>g her. Born <strong>in</strong>to a Protestant family who moved from a Black church <strong>in</strong>to a<br />
predom<strong>in</strong>ately White middle-class church, she lacked any physical experience <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> religion <strong>of</strong> her parents. Search<strong>in</strong>g for a different way she discovered Santería<br />
through dance. Her madr<strong>in</strong>a is also African-American who herself was <strong>in</strong>itiated by<br />
a Puerto Rican woman. Through her, Carmen belonged to <strong>the</strong> Matanza l<strong>in</strong>eage, a<br />
highly respected Cuban l<strong>in</strong>eage, so that Cuban practitioners also accept her. But<br />
because her madr<strong>in</strong>a has left <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> Carmen did not participate regularly<br />
at ceremonies but practised <strong>the</strong> religion privately as well as with participation <strong>in</strong><br />
84 Marta S., personal communication, 22.12.1998.<br />
85 Personal communication, 22.12.1998. When I returned <strong>in</strong> 2001 she was pass<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
f<strong>in</strong>al step <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 83<br />
bembés where her husband played <strong>the</strong> drums. She had read a great deal about <strong>the</strong><br />
religion and similar topics because education is central for her. Her madr<strong>in</strong>a supports<br />
her <strong>in</strong> this respect though she <strong>in</strong>sists on hav<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> last word <strong>in</strong> all questions. Hence<br />
<strong>the</strong> madr<strong>in</strong>a makes <strong>the</strong> decision when Carmen wants to try new practices she has<br />
read about or if Carmen has any questions concern<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> traditional doctr<strong>in</strong>e. 86<br />
Both women mentioned tensions among santeros and santeras <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>.<br />
Cubans would protect <strong>the</strong>ir privileges and would even regard Nigerian priests as<br />
rivals. While <strong>the</strong> Yoruba religion is accepted as <strong>the</strong> mo<strong>the</strong>r religion, Santería is seen as<br />
a Cuban religion created out <strong>of</strong> various traditions. Because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g number <strong>of</strong><br />
European and US American <strong>in</strong>itiations <strong>the</strong> religion has become more and more open,<br />
despite <strong>the</strong> reluctance <strong>of</strong> Cuban priests. 87 In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> all believers depend on<br />
cooperation with Cuban priests because only <strong>the</strong>y have <strong>the</strong> necessary consecration to<br />
perform certa<strong>in</strong> rituals. On <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, <strong>the</strong>y have to accept that <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong><br />
non-<strong>Caribbean</strong> people, who question <strong>the</strong> tradition too much, has <strong>in</strong>deed developed <strong>the</strong><br />
religion <strong>in</strong> a different way, <strong>in</strong> opposition to <strong>the</strong> orthodox Cuban direction. For <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
people <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> started to organize jo<strong>in</strong>t festivals among practitioners <strong>of</strong><br />
Santería and Candomblé and began to work toge<strong>the</strong>r. There is also a grow<strong>in</strong>g presence<br />
<strong>of</strong> Native Americans though <strong>the</strong>y are <strong>of</strong>ten not accepted, and a new <strong>in</strong>fluence from<br />
migrants from Guyana and Tr<strong>in</strong>idad who br<strong>in</strong>g a new H<strong>in</strong>du <strong>in</strong>fluence to Santería. Only<br />
Vodou is rejected because it is considered to be too powerful. Santeros and santeras<br />
<strong>of</strong>ten criticize <strong>the</strong> apparent attitude <strong>of</strong> consumption among vodouisants because no<br />
oricha (or lwa) should be bought with money <strong>in</strong> order to carry out a task. 88 Because<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> different variations <strong>of</strong> Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> many believers are ‘between<br />
houses’ as Carmen said, and hence do not belong to a community but practise <strong>the</strong><br />
religion <strong>in</strong>dividually. Some expla<strong>in</strong> this <strong>in</strong> terms <strong>of</strong> problems with <strong>the</strong> godparents, who<br />
are said to treat members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple differently. Instead <strong>of</strong> accept<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> religious<br />
hierarchy it is <strong>of</strong>ten regarded as unjust. In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> a nucleus <strong>of</strong> a few believers<br />
meets with an <strong>in</strong>itiated person <strong>in</strong> order to avoid conflicts with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> houses, which<br />
are considered to be disturb<strong>in</strong>g. Instead <strong>of</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g to a ritual house <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>eage<br />
is regarded as more important. Among African-Americans <strong>the</strong> egbes <strong>in</strong>creased <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
acceptance though <strong>the</strong>re are still some well-organized houses, as Curry describes <strong>in</strong><br />
her study (1997: 99ff. with reference to Peters’ House).<br />
Most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> African-Americans came from a non-Catholic background and<br />
started to change <strong>the</strong> religion accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir own traditions. In addition to <strong>the</strong><br />
rejection <strong>of</strong> sa<strong>in</strong>ts <strong>the</strong>y fought aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> hymns dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> misa (a ritual<br />
service) before <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation. Instead <strong>the</strong>y prefer <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> gospels and defend<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir decision by ask<strong>in</strong>g why orichas should understand only Spanish; Yoruba would<br />
be more appropriate.<br />
Despite all <strong>the</strong>ir differences <strong>the</strong> two women have <strong>in</strong> common <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic<br />
attraction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir religion. As dancers <strong>the</strong>y focus on <strong>the</strong> physical experience <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
orichas, which <strong>the</strong>y want to <strong>in</strong>corporate <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong>ir work as dancers and also teach<br />
to o<strong>the</strong>rs. They always refer to <strong>the</strong> movements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas, from <strong>the</strong> style <strong>of</strong><br />
86 Personal communication, 17.11.1998.<br />
87 Marta S., personal communication, 22.12.1998.<br />
88 Carmen R., personal communication, 17.11.1998.
84<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
walk<strong>in</strong>g and gestures to posture. Both acknowledge <strong>the</strong> Cuban l<strong>in</strong>eage and despite<br />
all controversies also <strong>the</strong> Cuban traditions, though <strong>the</strong> Cuban customs have different<br />
mean<strong>in</strong>gs for <strong>the</strong>m. While Marta S. refers to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> background and speaks,<br />
for <strong>in</strong>stance, about her experience with <strong>the</strong> Yoruba religion <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad, Carmen R.<br />
describes her journey to West Africa and ma<strong>in</strong>ly refers to <strong>the</strong> Yoruba. In Cuba <strong>the</strong><br />
term Lucumí as a synonym for <strong>the</strong> enslaved Yoruba is more used than Yoruba; <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>USA</strong>, <strong>in</strong> particular among African-Americans, <strong>the</strong> term Yoruba has experienced a<br />
revival and Lucumí is def<strong>in</strong>ed as a ‘dialect <strong>of</strong> Yoruba spoken <strong>in</strong> Cuba. It differs from<br />
Standard Yoruba <strong>in</strong> that it has lost its tones and is <strong>in</strong>fluenced phonetically by Spanish’<br />
(Curry 1997: 183). Instead <strong>of</strong> travell<strong>in</strong>g to Cuba to discover <strong>the</strong>ir roots, most African-<br />
Americans travel to Africa though Cuban and Puerto Rican practitioners declare that<br />
it was <strong>the</strong> Cuban religion that helped to conserve old African traditions. The ritual<br />
language <strong>in</strong> some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> songs is def<strong>in</strong>ed as an old Yoruba dialect, no longer spoken<br />
<strong>in</strong> Nigeria. African babalawos would <strong>the</strong>refore appreciate <strong>the</strong> knowledge <strong>of</strong> Cuban<br />
priests. On <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, Cuban priests <strong>of</strong>ten reject any changes by Nigerian priests<br />
such as <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>itiation <strong>of</strong> women <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> ifá cult. 89 In contrast, African-Americans<br />
who were <strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> religion by Cubans expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> discrepancies between<br />
<strong>the</strong> Cuban and <strong>the</strong> African religion as <strong>the</strong> consequences <strong>of</strong> slavery and suppression<br />
by <strong>the</strong> Spaniards and prefer a ‘clean’ version <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion, without <strong>the</strong> Spanish-<br />
Catholic elements. Through religious practices <strong>the</strong>y are hop<strong>in</strong>g for a religious return<br />
to Africa, though not to <strong>the</strong> African cont<strong>in</strong>ent but to a utopian, imag<strong>in</strong>ary Africa.<br />
The <strong>in</strong>terest <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba culture emerged <strong>in</strong> North America only because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Cuban religion. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Atlantic slave trade just a small number <strong>of</strong><br />
enslaved Yoruba came to North America and <strong>the</strong>ir culture did not <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>the</strong><br />
US prior to <strong>the</strong> arrival <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cuban religion. None<strong>the</strong>less, Yoruba receives today<br />
central mean<strong>in</strong>g for <strong>the</strong> Black community. Béhague criticizes <strong>the</strong> re-africanization<br />
<strong>of</strong> local religions, which, as he observed <strong>in</strong> Brazil, underm<strong>in</strong>es cultural dynamics.<br />
In particular <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>guistic re-africanization has to fail ‘because its artificiality goes<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st well-established cultural dynamics, result<strong>in</strong>g from <strong>the</strong> whole complex <strong>of</strong><br />
local cultural and historical contexts’ (Béhague 1984b: 249). Even <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> re-africanization attempts <strong>of</strong> African-Americans have changed <strong>the</strong> orientation <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> religion. Instead <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants who try to keep <strong>in</strong> touch with <strong>the</strong>ir home<br />
through <strong>the</strong> religion, <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>of</strong>fspr<strong>in</strong>g and people who have learnt about <strong>the</strong> religion<br />
only <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> have become <strong>the</strong> primary reference. As a result, it is no longer<br />
important to speak Spanish or <strong>of</strong>fer space for communication about home. Ra<strong>the</strong>r<br />
<strong>the</strong> religion is practised more <strong>in</strong>dividually and cannot any longer be embraced as<br />
one religion but ra<strong>the</strong>r as various religions. Ano<strong>the</strong>r change is that <strong>the</strong>re is much<br />
more literature available <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Literature about Santería also exists <strong>in</strong><br />
Cuba and Puerto Rico, but predom<strong>in</strong>antly <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> form <strong>of</strong> descriptive books; <strong>the</strong>re are<br />
only a few analytical studies. In <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>in</strong> nearly all bookshops one can f<strong>in</strong>d<br />
various publications about Santería and o<strong>the</strong>r religions that support <strong>the</strong> expansion<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious repertoire. While <strong>the</strong> level <strong>of</strong> education <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious community<br />
<strong>of</strong> migrants more or less resembles <strong>the</strong> social structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> country <strong>of</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>,<br />
most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> new members have higher levels <strong>of</strong> education and prefer to call upon<br />
89 Toni S., personal communication, 18.2.1998.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Religions</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> 85<br />
written sources about <strong>the</strong>ir religion, and this is someth<strong>in</strong>g that can annoy <strong>the</strong> priests.<br />
Most priests avoid competition with books and fear <strong>the</strong> challenge to <strong>the</strong>ir authority.<br />
Hence <strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>ten criticize publications and dim<strong>in</strong>ish <strong>the</strong>ir value. Even if <strong>the</strong>y support<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r voices, <strong>the</strong>y always claim <strong>the</strong> highest authority because <strong>of</strong><br />
misunderstand<strong>in</strong>gs on <strong>the</strong> part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> authors. Santería presents <strong>the</strong>refore a fasc<strong>in</strong>at<strong>in</strong>g<br />
and quite ambivalent picture. It attracts people because <strong>of</strong> what it <strong>of</strong>fers visually and<br />
physically, but it also presents <strong>in</strong>terplay between <strong>in</strong>dividuality and authority. With<strong>in</strong><br />
this tension <strong>the</strong> religion can easily adapt to <strong>the</strong> expectations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> believers.
This page <strong>in</strong>tentionally left blank
Chapter 4<br />
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
First Scene: A Religious Celebration<br />
The blaze <strong>of</strong> colour was overwhelm<strong>in</strong>g. The whole church build<strong>in</strong>g was pa<strong>in</strong>ted and<br />
decorated <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 23rd anniversary <strong>of</strong> its foundation. In <strong>the</strong> background<br />
was <strong>the</strong> altar on a podium, with chairs for <strong>the</strong> most important members and <strong>the</strong> guest<br />
<strong>of</strong> honour. In front <strong>the</strong> benches for <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong>gers and <strong>the</strong> children were l<strong>in</strong>ed up. I was<br />
fasc<strong>in</strong>ated <strong>in</strong> particular by <strong>the</strong> Stations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cross: side by side with Christian<br />
sa<strong>in</strong>ts I noticed a figure <strong>of</strong> Buddha and <strong>of</strong> a Native American, important religious<br />
symbols <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> pan<strong>the</strong>on <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church. The congregation<br />
represented itself as a place for many religions.<br />
The celebration started only slowly. One by one <strong>the</strong> members arrived. The women<br />
and girls were dressed <strong>in</strong> brilliant white and blue dresses with match<strong>in</strong>g scarves, <strong>the</strong><br />
men <strong>in</strong> suits. On one side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hall were two tables with food, and <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
altar was a small table with a grotto made out <strong>of</strong> grapes that conta<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> statue <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Virg<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> Lourdes, <strong>the</strong> patron <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation (see Figure 4.1). After an hour<br />
some women began to hum religious hymns. F<strong>in</strong>ally one woman started <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
soon jo<strong>in</strong>ed by o<strong>the</strong>r women. A man began to drum and <strong>the</strong> service started.<br />
There was an impressive mood <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> hall. The air became more and more muggy;<br />
<strong>the</strong> women, who had noticed and greeted every newcomer <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g, changed<br />
<strong>the</strong> hall <strong>in</strong>to a sacred place with <strong>the</strong>ir voices. Their s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g and <strong>the</strong> drum music<br />
seemed to rise to <strong>the</strong> sky or at least to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, away from <strong>the</strong> cold and wet<br />
atmosphere <strong>of</strong> Brooklyn. Every time <strong>the</strong> music started to slow down, <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>ister<br />
or one <strong>of</strong> his assistants tried to push <strong>the</strong> women to s<strong>in</strong>g louder. As I was told later,<br />
only music can create a successful service because <strong>the</strong> power <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> music can call<br />
<strong>the</strong> Holy Spirit to Earth.<br />
The first part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> service conta<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> last part <strong>of</strong> a novena, a series <strong>of</strong> services.<br />
Two mo<strong>the</strong>rs <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation led <strong>the</strong> recitation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rosary. There was repeated<br />
s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g, followed by speeches, <strong>the</strong> welcom<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> guests and lectures from <strong>the</strong><br />
Bible. S<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g and drumm<strong>in</strong>g became louder and louder. Some members started to<br />
feel <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Holy Spirit. They twitched and shrugged. When someone<br />
began to behave wildly, members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation immediately attended to <strong>the</strong>m<br />
so that <strong>the</strong>y did not <strong>in</strong>jure <strong>the</strong>mselves or o<strong>the</strong>rs.<br />
Dur<strong>in</strong>g a break <strong>the</strong> secretary read some letters to <strong>the</strong> congregation; more speeches<br />
were given, members were honoured with awards, and <strong>the</strong> children <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Sunday<br />
school sang some songs. Then <strong>the</strong> tables with <strong>the</strong> food were put <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> central part<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hall. The second part began. The (male) m<strong>in</strong>ister had changed <strong>in</strong>to a white
88<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
and blue dress with a scarf. The room was nearly airless. The music was boom<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> our ears. The manifestation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Holy Spirit <strong>in</strong>tensified. Around me more and<br />
more women fell <strong>in</strong>to trance. Some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m could barely stand despite <strong>the</strong> support <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>ir attendants. They fell to <strong>the</strong> floor, pushed aga<strong>in</strong>st each o<strong>the</strong>r and pressed o<strong>the</strong>rs<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> wall. It was totally chaotic. Even <strong>the</strong> assistants seemed to have lost <strong>the</strong><br />
overview. The music became more and more powerful. F<strong>in</strong>ally <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>ister fell <strong>in</strong>to<br />
trance. In this state he ano<strong>in</strong>ted <strong>the</strong> congregation with his oily hands until he fell to<br />
<strong>the</strong> floor unconscious and had to be carried away to his flat above <strong>the</strong> hall.<br />
Figure 4.1<br />
The Virg<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> Lourdes <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
Then a woman was possessed by Sa<strong>in</strong>t Michael, that is Ogun. Someone gave her a<br />
lance, and she whirled through <strong>the</strong> hall despite <strong>the</strong> crowd <strong>of</strong> people stand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> it. Even<br />
<strong>in</strong> trance she seemed to know what to do. At least this was what I hoped when she<br />
approached me. The assistants <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>ister tried to end <strong>the</strong> service but <strong>the</strong> women<br />
ignored <strong>the</strong>m. The two factions had started to argue about who was <strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
event when <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>ister returned and took control aga<strong>in</strong>. Slowly <strong>the</strong> crowd became<br />
quieter. After ano<strong>the</strong>r hour <strong>the</strong> service came to an end and <strong>the</strong> shared d<strong>in</strong>ner started.<br />
*<br />
So Ogun visits a Baptist church <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, which is decorated with Christian symbols<br />
and a Buddha statue that can also be <strong>in</strong>tegrated <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> pan<strong>the</strong>on <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
members – a mixture par excellence! The service illustrates <strong>the</strong> topic <strong>of</strong> this chapter<br />
<strong>in</strong> a remarkable way: <strong>the</strong> mixtures and ‘contam<strong>in</strong>ation’ <strong>of</strong> exist<strong>in</strong>g systems. Lat<strong>in</strong>
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 89<br />
American and <strong>Caribbean</strong> cultures are well qualified for <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>of</strong> cultural<br />
mixtures and have <strong>of</strong>ten been used for develop<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ories <strong>of</strong> cultural blend<strong>in</strong>g. This<br />
was <strong>of</strong>ten expla<strong>in</strong>ed with <strong>the</strong> remark that ‘no part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> world has ever witnessed<br />
such a gigantic mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> races as <strong>the</strong> one that has taken place <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> s<strong>in</strong>ce 1492’ (Mörner 1967: 1). But cultural mixtures are not always <strong>the</strong><br />
result <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most violent engagement <strong>of</strong> people. The process <strong>of</strong> cultural mix<strong>in</strong>g that<br />
started dur<strong>in</strong>g colonial times has not stopped: only <strong>the</strong> composition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mixtures<br />
has changed. And one should be aware that not only has <strong>the</strong> colonial mixture <strong>of</strong><br />
Indigenous, African and European cultures developed differently <strong>in</strong> every country, but<br />
that contemporary <strong>in</strong>fluences such as migration movements and new communication<br />
media have also changed every country <strong>in</strong> its own way. This dynamism can also be<br />
noted with regard to <strong>the</strong> cultural <strong>the</strong>ories that were developed and discussed <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. Just as <strong>the</strong>se religious practitioners <strong>in</strong>clude <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir belief<br />
system whatever is available and makes sense to <strong>the</strong>m, cultural <strong>the</strong>orists have also<br />
<strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>the</strong>ir repertoire <strong>of</strong> ideas <strong>of</strong> various orig<strong>in</strong>s. My focus will be on <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ories<br />
developed <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> second part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth<br />
century and <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twenty-first century.<br />
Mestizaje<br />
The start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ories about <strong>the</strong> mixture <strong>of</strong> cultures was a biological<br />
<strong>the</strong>sis, known under <strong>the</strong> term ‘mestizaje’ (miscegenation). Accord<strong>in</strong>g to this <strong>the</strong>sis<br />
<strong>the</strong> mixture <strong>of</strong> cultures was based on a mixture <strong>of</strong> races or, <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r way around,<br />
<strong>the</strong> mixture <strong>of</strong> races resulted <strong>in</strong> a mixture <strong>of</strong> cultures. In 1925 José Vasconcelos<br />
was <strong>the</strong> first to use <strong>the</strong> term ‘mestizaje’ as a political concept portray<strong>in</strong>g a national<br />
culture based on genetic or biological characteristics, as Ana María Díaz Stevens<br />
and Anthony Stevens-Arroyo note; after <strong>the</strong> Second World War ‘mestizaje’ became<br />
a central concept <strong>of</strong> populist movements (1998: 7). The ideology <strong>of</strong> mestizaje was<br />
<strong>the</strong>refore used to confirm <strong>the</strong> similarity – or hide <strong>the</strong> diversity – <strong>of</strong> different groups <strong>in</strong><br />
a homogeneous national society. In this mean<strong>in</strong>g mestizaje was a literary topos that<br />
played an important part <strong>in</strong> constru<strong>in</strong>g a nationalist ideology, which is even more<br />
important than its academic usage (Lienhard 1996: 66–7). 1<br />
In academic discourse Magnus Mörner is <strong>the</strong> lead<strong>in</strong>g opponent <strong>of</strong> this debate though<br />
he rejected <strong>the</strong> ideological usage <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> term. His book Race Mixture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> History <strong>of</strong><br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America (1967) led <strong>the</strong> way for subsequent academics. Though Mörner always<br />
stressed <strong>the</strong> difference between mestizaje and acculturation, between <strong>the</strong> biological<br />
and <strong>the</strong> cultural mixture, he was <strong>of</strong>ten portrayed as Mr Mestizaje (Mörner 1990: 29).<br />
Mörner’s observations marked an important step <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> perception <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> second half <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century, which changed <strong>the</strong> negative<br />
connotation <strong>of</strong> mixture to a positive. At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonial era <strong>the</strong><br />
European fantasy was ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong>ed by <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> terrify<strong>in</strong>g and<br />
1 The literatura mestiza was never<strong>the</strong>less also able to support a local identity separate<br />
from a national identity as Antonio Cornejo Polar <strong>in</strong> his critique <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> imagen mítica del<br />
mestizaje argues. Cornejo Polar: ‘Mestizaje, transculturación, heterogeneidad’, appendix to<br />
<strong>the</strong> article by Roberto Fernández Retamar 1996: 54–6, at p. 54.
90<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
fearsome ‘mixed creatures’. Even before Colon’s voyage <strong>the</strong>y had already occupied<br />
a place <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> European imag<strong>in</strong>ation, as Peter Mason argues (1990: 7). The world<br />
outside <strong>the</strong> known regions had to be <strong>in</strong>habited by terrify<strong>in</strong>g creatures with gruesome<br />
customs; hence Colon had to return with stories about cannibals because he went to<br />
an area outside <strong>the</strong> known sphere, outside civilization, as Peter Hulme argues <strong>in</strong> his<br />
critique <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘colonial discourse’ (1986: 85). ‘Beh<strong>in</strong>d each landmark set <strong>in</strong> place<br />
by <strong>the</strong> march <strong>of</strong> European culture a savage is hidden, watch<strong>in</strong>g over <strong>the</strong> frontiers <strong>of</strong><br />
civilized existence’ (Bartra 1997: 1).<br />
After <strong>the</strong> colonization <strong>of</strong> America ‘crossbreeds’ were given <strong>the</strong> task <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
‘savages’ because both were regarded as uncivilized and hence dangerous. Mestizos<br />
(<strong>the</strong> Spanish term for crossbreeds) were portrayed as weak, barbarous, uncivilized<br />
and also terrify<strong>in</strong>g and beastly. Even <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> a grow<strong>in</strong>g number <strong>of</strong> children<br />
<strong>of</strong> Spanish soldiers and (<strong>of</strong>ten violated) <strong>in</strong>digenous women did not <strong>in</strong>fluence this<br />
perception. 2 Though <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fspr<strong>in</strong>g were more oriented towards <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
fa<strong>the</strong>rs from <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g, with paternal culture regarded as stronger, <strong>the</strong> negative<br />
perception <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mestizos <strong>in</strong>creased. Nearly all <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m were seen as illegitimate,<br />
without <strong>the</strong> rights <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir Spanish parents, and as less important than <strong>the</strong> children<br />
<strong>of</strong> purely Spanish parents. The colonists should guard <strong>the</strong> limpieza de sangre (<strong>the</strong><br />
purity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> blood), <strong>the</strong> Spanish government ordered. Even <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> second half <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century, mestizos were blamed for <strong>the</strong> social and political defects <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> new republics because <strong>the</strong>se problems were regarded as a consequence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
‘weak character’ (Schumm 1994: 61).<br />
Only <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1920s was <strong>the</strong>re any change, when people started to look for alternatives<br />
to <strong>the</strong> Western concept <strong>of</strong> modernity. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> decolonization non-<br />
European groups <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> population were <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong><br />
a national and later even a cont<strong>in</strong>ental identity for <strong>the</strong> first time, though <strong>the</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>ental<br />
development would only happen later, as no one was <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> chang<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
situation at that po<strong>in</strong>t (Schumm 1994: 60–61). In <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century,<br />
after <strong>the</strong> catastrophe <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Second World War, Lat<strong>in</strong> American <strong>in</strong>tellectuals began<br />
to praise <strong>the</strong> mezcla de sangres (<strong>the</strong> mixture <strong>of</strong> blood) as a utopian image for a<br />
harmonious mix<strong>in</strong>g which was used by some populists as a national ideology. At<br />
this time Magnus Mörner published his research, which deprived <strong>the</strong> ideological<br />
construction <strong>of</strong> mestizaje <strong>of</strong> its basis.<br />
Mörner argued that mestizaje, which he def<strong>in</strong>ed as biological mixture, had only little<br />
academic significance. Only <strong>in</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation with acculturation and assimilation did<br />
<strong>the</strong> biological mixture receive its importance. Though <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America miscegenation<br />
became <strong>the</strong> motor <strong>of</strong> acculturation, acculturation would have been possible without it<br />
(Mörner 1967: 5). Mörner regarded acculturation as more pa<strong>in</strong>ful than <strong>the</strong> biological<br />
mixture, though he differentiated later this very simplistic <strong>in</strong>terpretation when he<br />
analysed mixture <strong>in</strong> its historical dimension, <strong>in</strong> particular with regard to <strong>the</strong> violent<br />
treatment <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous women. 3 Without go<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to detail, he <strong>the</strong>n <strong>in</strong>vestigated <strong>the</strong><br />
2 A famous example was Inca Garcilaso de la Vega, son <strong>of</strong> a Spanish soldier and an Inca<br />
pr<strong>in</strong>cess, author <strong>of</strong> an important document about <strong>the</strong> situation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous people <strong>in</strong> Peru,<br />
which he had sent to <strong>the</strong> Spanish k<strong>in</strong>g. For <strong>in</strong>formation, see, for example, Scharlau 1985.<br />
3 He described <strong>the</strong> Spanish conquest primarily as a conquest <strong>of</strong> women (Mörner 1967: 22).
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 91<br />
different categorizations and treatment <strong>of</strong> mestizos, <strong>the</strong> children result<strong>in</strong>g from <strong>the</strong>se<br />
violent connections, and discovered a chang<strong>in</strong>g perception throughout time, from<br />
identification with Spa<strong>in</strong> to segregation and prohibition (Mörner 1967: 47–8). The f<strong>in</strong>al<br />
stage was <strong>the</strong> Sociedad de Castas <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong> ethnic stratification was connected to<br />
social attributes. As a result social positions def<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terethnic separation between<br />
<strong>the</strong> ethnic groups. While legally <strong>New</strong> Spa<strong>in</strong> was divided <strong>in</strong>to Spaniards, Indians,<br />
mestizos, free Blacks and slaves, <strong>the</strong> social status divided people <strong>in</strong>to pen<strong>in</strong>sulares<br />
(Spaniards born <strong>in</strong> Spa<strong>in</strong>), criollos (Spaniards born <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> Spa<strong>in</strong>), mestizos/mulattos/<br />
zambos/free Blacks, slaves and, f<strong>in</strong>ally, <strong>in</strong>digenous people (Mörner 1967: 60). 4<br />
The ethnic stratification based on social characteristics is still ongo<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> parts <strong>of</strong><br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Ronald Stutzman, for <strong>in</strong>stance, describes an ongo<strong>in</strong>g chang<strong>in</strong>g ethnic<br />
stratification <strong>of</strong> social categories, based on his <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>in</strong> Ecuador:<br />
Cholos may be considered by o<strong>the</strong>rs and may regard <strong>the</strong>mselves as ei<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong>dios (<strong>in</strong>dígenas)<br />
or as mestizos or blancos. Mulatos and zambos may be classified, alternatively, as ei<strong>the</strong>r<br />
negros (morenos) or as mestizos or blancos. If <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> el mestizaje is fully extended<br />
… <strong>the</strong>n everyone who really wants to be a mestizo or a blanco can be one. (1981: 77)<br />
Aspects such as cloth<strong>in</strong>g, hous<strong>in</strong>g and language can determ<strong>in</strong>e <strong>the</strong> social group with which<br />
someone will be identified, not only colour and o<strong>the</strong>r racial categories. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong><br />
amortization <strong>of</strong> ethnic categories <strong>in</strong> daily life is challenged by <strong>the</strong> emphasis on mestizaje<br />
with<strong>in</strong> national discourse. Already <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> period <strong>of</strong> national consolidation racial<br />
differences were no longer based on <strong>the</strong> genetic composition <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>dividual as dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> colonial Sociedad de Castas (Mörner 1970a: 3). The ideological emphasis on race,<br />
which Mörner def<strong>in</strong>es as a social construct, is contradicted by <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American reality<br />
and its miscegenation that resulted <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> loss <strong>of</strong> somatic and genealogical differences<br />
between people (Mörner 1970b: 229). Mörner argues that hispanidad, <strong>in</strong>digenism,<br />
africanism or mestization (hence <strong>the</strong> emphasis on <strong>the</strong> Spanish, Indigenous, African or a<br />
mixed tradition with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American culture) are only bridges to <strong>the</strong> idealized past<br />
without any understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> present and <strong>the</strong> future. Mestizaje as a national concept<br />
proclaimed <strong>the</strong> birth <strong>of</strong> contemporary Lat<strong>in</strong> American societies out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mixture <strong>of</strong><br />
Indigenous, European and African traditions without regard<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> actual situation <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> marg<strong>in</strong>alized groups. While look<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> mixture <strong>the</strong> social problems<br />
and <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terethnic process <strong>of</strong> today’s societies were accepted almost without question.<br />
Mestizos were glorified as national symbols, but not as subjects.<br />
4 Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> eighteenth century <strong>the</strong> ethnic differentiation became more str<strong>in</strong>gent and<br />
created a strange term<strong>in</strong>ology as this hierarchically ordered list illustrates (Mörner 1967: 58):<br />
1. Spaniard and Indian woman beget mestizo; 2. Mestizo and Spanish woman beget castizo;<br />
3. Castizo woman and Spaniard beget Spaniard; 4. Spanish woman and Negro beget mulatto;<br />
5. Spaniard and mulatto woman beget morisco; 6. Morisco woman and Spaniard beget alb<strong>in</strong>o;<br />
7. Spaniard and alb<strong>in</strong>o woman beget torna atrás; 8. Indian and torno atrás woman beget lobo;<br />
9. Lobo and Indian woman beget zambaigo; 10. Zambaigo and Indian woman beget cambujo;<br />
11. Cambujo and mulatto woman beget albarazado; 12. Albarazado and mulatto woman beget<br />
barc<strong>in</strong>o; 13. Bac<strong>in</strong>o and mulatto woman beget coyote; 14. Coyote woman and Indian beget<br />
chamiso; 15. Chamiso woman and mestizo beget coyote mestizo; 16. Coyote mestizo and<br />
mulatto woman beget ahí te estás.
92<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
This is also <strong>the</strong> result <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>of</strong> mestizaje by Jorge Klor de Alva <strong>in</strong><br />
its colonial and postcolonial context. In <strong>the</strong> twentieth century mestizaje became a<br />
politically def<strong>in</strong>ed category to create a national identity. Analys<strong>in</strong>g public speeches<br />
<strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American politicians, Klor de Alva shows that mestizaje is used to describe<br />
a fruitful result <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> encounter <strong>of</strong> different races, <strong>the</strong> essence <strong>of</strong> American reality<br />
and <strong>the</strong> unique expression <strong>of</strong> a syn<strong>the</strong>sis <strong>in</strong> which Christianity, <strong>the</strong> Spanish language<br />
and a focus on Europe are at <strong>the</strong>ir meridian (1995: 250). Hence, while <strong>the</strong> European<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluence was glorified, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous part was excluded. Klor de Alva expla<strong>in</strong>s it<br />
as <strong>the</strong> failure to really disengage from Spa<strong>in</strong>, and hence <strong>the</strong> failure to create a sense<br />
<strong>of</strong> nationality <strong>in</strong>dependent from <strong>the</strong> mo<strong>the</strong>rland. 5<br />
Mestizaje rema<strong>in</strong>ed a homogeneous concept despite its pluralistic foundations.<br />
The o<strong>the</strong>r, whe<strong>the</strong>r Indigenous or European, was <strong>in</strong>tegrated <strong>in</strong> a homogeneous<br />
unity and changed <strong>in</strong>to oneself. But <strong>the</strong> fact was neglected that <strong>the</strong> Indigenous were<br />
never<strong>the</strong>less a marg<strong>in</strong>alized group, on <strong>the</strong> boundaries <strong>of</strong> society. Like <strong>the</strong> melt<strong>in</strong>g pot<br />
discourse <strong>in</strong> North America, mestizaje never challenged <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> mixture and<br />
became <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>the</strong> symbol <strong>of</strong> a ‘successful’ blend<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> culture. 6 Look<strong>in</strong>g back on<br />
<strong>the</strong> celebration I described at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> this chapter, one would summarize <strong>the</strong><br />
religious concept <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> congregation based on mestizaje as follows: it is a Baptist<br />
church whose Christian concept has <strong>in</strong>tegrated foreign religious elements such as<br />
African gods and Asian symbols because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir colonial <strong>in</strong>fluences. At first glance,<br />
without contextualiz<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> religious worldview, this characterization seems to fit. But<br />
already my short description <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community <strong>in</strong> Chapter 3 illustrates weak aspects<br />
and exposes <strong>the</strong> characterization as an illusion. Despite <strong>the</strong> critique <strong>of</strong> colonization<br />
mestizaje implicitly supported <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> cultural homogenization. The o<strong>the</strong>rs, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
case <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious example, <strong>the</strong> Buddha and <strong>the</strong> African gods, are adapted to <strong>the</strong><br />
homogeneous entity and transformed <strong>in</strong>to someth<strong>in</strong>g homemade. But this is not how<br />
it works. Buddha is still Buddha and not a part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Baptist worldview, <strong>the</strong> orichas<br />
are still African and not Christian; <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous are still a marg<strong>in</strong>alized group<br />
<strong>of</strong> society. The <strong>in</strong>tellectual movement <strong>of</strong> mestizaje did not try only to change <strong>the</strong><br />
negative connotation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mestizos but also to disguise <strong>the</strong> roots <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Indigenous<br />
and African past. As Eleonore von Oertzen criticizes, mestizaje implied <strong>the</strong> loss <strong>of</strong><br />
marg<strong>in</strong>alized people’s ethnic identity <strong>in</strong> order to ga<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> acceptance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir past<br />
(1993: 3). Indigenous cultures became folkloristic elements <strong>of</strong> nations <strong>of</strong> mestizos,<br />
and African gods became Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>ts.<br />
5 Only rarely has a postcolonial state managed to <strong>in</strong>tegrate <strong>in</strong>digenous actions as part <strong>of</strong><br />
its new national identity such as <strong>the</strong> Shyri <strong>in</strong> Ecuador (see Salazar 1995: 48–68).<br />
Ano<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g aspect <strong>of</strong> this debate is <strong>the</strong> discourse about <strong>in</strong>digenismo which stresses<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous heritage, though still from <strong>the</strong> non-<strong>in</strong>digenous perspective. Gün<strong>the</strong>r Maihold<br />
even describes <strong>in</strong>digenismo as <strong>the</strong> ideology <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mestizos because <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenist position<br />
is based ma<strong>in</strong>ly on <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> acculturation, as he expla<strong>in</strong>s with reference to <strong>the</strong> Mexican<br />
scholar Gonzalo Aguirre Beltrán (1986: 10).<br />
Even Guillermo Bonfil Batalla (1992), who describes a pluralistic concept <strong>of</strong> society,<br />
reduces <strong>in</strong>digenous cultures to ideological constructs. None<strong>the</strong>less, his publications prepared<br />
<strong>the</strong> way for <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dianidad, a political movement among <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous<br />
population that worked for political changes.<br />
6 See also <strong>the</strong> def<strong>in</strong>ition by Raúl Bueno, 1996: 28.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 93<br />
The ideology <strong>of</strong> mestizaje none<strong>the</strong>less had a positive <strong>in</strong>fluence on Lat<strong>in</strong> America<br />
because it streng<strong>the</strong>ned <strong>the</strong> self-empowerment <strong>of</strong> Indigenous and even Afro-American<br />
groups that could organize <strong>the</strong>mselves only because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> positive perception <strong>of</strong><br />
mestizaje. The process can be compared to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> negritude on African and<br />
Afro-American <strong>in</strong>tellectuals (see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Zea 1978), though society without racial<br />
discrim<strong>in</strong>ation is still a long way away (see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Burdick 1993). Mestzaje<br />
praised <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous soul but ignored <strong>the</strong> social conditions <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous people.<br />
Cultural Heterogeneity and Hybridity<br />
Out <strong>of</strong> this critique <strong>of</strong> mestizaje, Lat<strong>in</strong> American <strong>the</strong>orists construed new concepts based<br />
on an idea <strong>of</strong> cultural heterogeneity. In contrast to mestizaje, cultural heterogeneity<br />
po<strong>in</strong>ted to <strong>the</strong> social situation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Indigenes and questioned <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> mixture.<br />
Instead <strong>of</strong> describ<strong>in</strong>g a future assimilation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> marg<strong>in</strong>alized groups, more and more<br />
<strong>the</strong>orists praised <strong>the</strong> cultural diversity <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American cultures. Based on Antonio<br />
Cornejo Polar, who <strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>the</strong> term ‘cultural heterogeneity’ <strong>in</strong> 1977, Raúl<br />
Bueno highlights <strong>in</strong> his def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuality and <strong>the</strong> ability to characterize <strong>the</strong><br />
divisions that create a pluralistic culture (1996: 28). The term ‘cultural heterogeneity’<br />
unified different <strong>the</strong>oretical concepts that all described a pluralistic image <strong>of</strong> society.<br />
Apart from literary studies, such as <strong>the</strong> one by Antonio Cornejo Polar, scholars started<br />
to write studies <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1970s describ<strong>in</strong>g a ‘history from below’ <strong>in</strong> opposition to <strong>the</strong><br />
‘history from above’ that was created <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonial context (see Pietschmann 1994:<br />
105–6). Like similar work <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> and Europe, <strong>the</strong>se new studies portrayed<br />
multicultural diversity <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> a unity, and this perspective was focused on <strong>the</strong><br />
present <strong>in</strong> opposition to <strong>the</strong> glorified past <strong>of</strong> former <strong>in</strong>digenous cultures. 7 None<strong>the</strong>less,<br />
<strong>the</strong> result rema<strong>in</strong>ed static because <strong>the</strong> result stayed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>vestigation<br />
<strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> be<strong>in</strong>g seen as part <strong>of</strong> a process. Consequently, <strong>the</strong> actors, <strong>the</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g people,<br />
were still deprived <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir creative achievement.<br />
At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s Néstor García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i brought a new impulse <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong><br />
debate, which changed <strong>the</strong> discourse radically. Though his concept also focused on <strong>the</strong><br />
mixture <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g, it illustrated <strong>the</strong> futility <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> conventional dichotomy <strong>of</strong><br />
tradition and modernity by direct<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> perspective to <strong>the</strong> hybridity <strong>of</strong> urban societies.<br />
The term ‘hybridity’ was <strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>in</strong>to colonial discourse by Homi K. Bhabha,<br />
who used it as a substitute for mimicry. Bhabha describes hybridity as ‘<strong>the</strong> sign <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> productivity <strong>of</strong> colonial power, its shift<strong>in</strong>g forces and fixities … <strong>the</strong> name for<br />
<strong>the</strong> strategic reversal <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ation through disavowal (that is, <strong>the</strong><br />
production <strong>of</strong> discrim<strong>in</strong>atory identities that secure <strong>the</strong> “pure” and orig<strong>in</strong>al identity <strong>of</strong><br />
authority).’ And he cont<strong>in</strong>ues that hybridity represents ‘that ambivalent “turn” <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
discrim<strong>in</strong>ated subject <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> terrify<strong>in</strong>g, exorbitant object <strong>of</strong> paranoid classification’<br />
(Bhabha 1985: 154, 155). Hence, <strong>in</strong> opposition to his Lat<strong>in</strong> American colleagues,<br />
7 Anthropologists started to produce ethnicity studies at that time; see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong><br />
Anthropologists started to produce ethnicity studies at that time; see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong><br />
contributions <strong>in</strong> Whitten 1981.
94<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Bhabha picks up a provocative re<strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> British debate. 8 None<strong>the</strong>less,<br />
<strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American debate has different roots, as I will show.<br />
The process <strong>of</strong> hybridization was <strong>in</strong>tensified by urban expansion <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America:<br />
while at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century only 10 per cent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> population lived <strong>in</strong><br />
urban centres, <strong>the</strong> figure was 60–70 per cent by <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> century (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i<br />
1997: 207). Hence most studies about cultural heterogeneity <strong>in</strong>vestigate urban Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America. As dist<strong>in</strong>ct from <strong>the</strong> mestizaje studies, which were written by Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
<strong>in</strong>tellectuals <strong>in</strong> opposition to European concepts, studies about heterogeneity and hybridity<br />
focus on <strong>the</strong> consequences <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> new communication media and <strong>the</strong> globalization <strong>of</strong><br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American societies. The world changes so fast that understand<strong>in</strong>g withdraws from<br />
<strong>the</strong> systematic <strong>the</strong>oretical formulations (Carlos Monsiváis, quoted <strong>in</strong> R<strong>in</strong>cón 1994: 29).<br />
Mestizaje and cultural heterogeneity describe <strong>the</strong>refore different moments <strong>of</strong> cultural<br />
contact. While mestizaje had focused on <strong>New</strong> Spa<strong>in</strong> and Spanish colonization, <strong>the</strong><br />
new studies centred on McDonald’s and MTV society or, as Petra Schumm argues<br />
(1994: 59), on <strong>the</strong> horror scenario <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> utopian society <strong>in</strong> Blade Runner.<br />
Hybrid Cultures<br />
The concept <strong>of</strong> hybrid cultures is connected to Néstor García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i though he<br />
did not <strong>in</strong>vent <strong>the</strong> term. Born <strong>in</strong> Argent<strong>in</strong>a, he has worked <strong>in</strong> Mexico s<strong>in</strong>ce 1976,<br />
where he is pr<strong>of</strong>essor for urban studies at <strong>the</strong> Universidad Autónoma Metropolitana.<br />
He <strong>in</strong>vestigates social changes such as those which have occurred <strong>in</strong> popular art <strong>in</strong><br />
Mexico. His book Culturas híbridas: estrategias para entrar y salir de la modernidad<br />
(1990) 9 presents a critical picture <strong>of</strong> Mexican society on its way to <strong>the</strong> global century<br />
<strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong> labour market <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> will become more important than <strong>the</strong> one <strong>in</strong><br />
Mexico. Lat<strong>in</strong> American societies are <strong>in</strong> a process <strong>of</strong> transformation and are los<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir focus on subjects. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to this evaluation he characterizes <strong>the</strong> postmodern<br />
culture as <strong>the</strong> stag<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a double loss, <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> script and <strong>the</strong> author (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i<br />
1997: 243). Postmodernity <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America is conceived by García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i <strong>the</strong>refore<br />
not as a style but as a special way <strong>of</strong> work<strong>in</strong>g, created on <strong>the</strong> ru<strong>in</strong>s <strong>of</strong> modernity. 10<br />
8 In Brita<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> term hybrid was already used <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century as a metaphor<br />
for a shattered identity and society, though with a negative connotation. Hybrid forms were<br />
regarded as threats to society. See Young 1995, <strong>in</strong> particular chapter 1, pp. 1–28.<br />
9 Writ<strong>in</strong>g this book I used <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>al version (<strong>in</strong> Spanish) but <strong>the</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g verbatim<br />
quotes and references will refer to <strong>the</strong> third edition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> English translation by Christopher<br />
L. Chiappari and Silvia L. López, published under <strong>the</strong> title Hybrid Cultures <strong>in</strong> 1997. Though I<br />
will use most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> term<strong>in</strong>ology used by Chiappari and López, <strong>the</strong>re can be some discrepancies<br />
between <strong>the</strong> two texts.<br />
10 In order to understand his concept I need to expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> differences between <strong>the</strong><br />
Spanish term cultura popular and <strong>the</strong> English term ‘popular culture’ because both terms are<br />
sometimes confused. Lienhard def<strong>in</strong>es <strong>the</strong> first as culture that is more or less autonomous and<br />
subord<strong>in</strong>ated and <strong>the</strong> latter as culture that is produced by <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant sectors for <strong>the</strong> masses<br />
(1996: 77–8, fn. 10). None<strong>the</strong>less, cultura popular is not identical to traditional culture.<br />
Handicrafts produced by <strong>in</strong>digenous people to sell to tourists are not generally labelled<br />
traditional culture though <strong>the</strong>ir daily pottery is. The traditional patterns are <strong>of</strong>ten static, passed<br />
down through generations, and a fixed part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> material culture. Cultura popular, however,
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 95<br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i argues vehemently aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> dichotomy <strong>of</strong> modern and<br />
traditional or rural and urban because <strong>the</strong>se cannot describe <strong>the</strong> cultural diversity <strong>of</strong><br />
national culture and its decentralized structure. In order to emphasize his argument<br />
he starts by reject<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> terms mestizaje and syncretism because <strong>the</strong> first one<br />
refers only to racial mixtures and <strong>the</strong> latter characterizes <strong>the</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> religious<br />
or traditional symbolic movements. In contrast to <strong>the</strong>se terms he is look<strong>in</strong>g at<br />
<strong>in</strong>tercultural mixtures, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g modern forms <strong>of</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1990:<br />
15/1997: 11, fn. 1). In order to characterize this focus he uses a term from botany,<br />
hybridity, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> way Tzvetan Todorov used it before. 11<br />
Todorov was <strong>in</strong>spired by Mikhail Bakht<strong>in</strong>, a Russian literary studies scholar, though<br />
Todorov <strong>in</strong>terpreted <strong>the</strong> term slightly differently. While Todorov looked at <strong>the</strong> mixture<br />
<strong>of</strong> cultures, <strong>in</strong> particular at <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> conquest <strong>of</strong> America (1982, see also Todorov<br />
1989), Bakht<strong>in</strong>’s ‘hybridity’ characterized <strong>the</strong> variety <strong>of</strong> speak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> novels, <strong>the</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>of</strong> styles and languages. Bakht<strong>in</strong> argues that a novel <strong>in</strong>cludes various styles, different<br />
speeches and voices; hence it confronts a scholar with heterogeneous stylistic elements<br />
on different levels, follow<strong>in</strong>g different orders. None<strong>the</strong>less, despite <strong>the</strong> emphasis on<br />
diverse elements, Bakht<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>sists that one should never confuse <strong>the</strong> elements with <strong>the</strong><br />
aes<strong>the</strong>tic product because <strong>the</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> autonomous but subord<strong>in</strong>ate units with<strong>in</strong><br />
a novel characterizes <strong>the</strong> particularity <strong>of</strong> a novel (1979: 156–7).<br />
The language <strong>in</strong> a novel can be a comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> different <strong>in</strong>dividual languages<br />
that are based on <strong>the</strong> socio-ideological horizons <strong>of</strong> particular social groups (Schumm<br />
1994: 70). Every language represents particular worldviews that contradict, add or<br />
oppose each o<strong>the</strong>r, and hence refer to each o<strong>the</strong>r. A novelist can <strong>the</strong>refore use different<br />
styles and languages as ‘orchestration <strong>of</strong> his/her topics’. Language represents a<br />
specific attitude, an <strong>in</strong>dividual consciousness on <strong>the</strong> border between own and o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
(Bakht<strong>in</strong> 1979: 185). Only when a term is connected by <strong>the</strong> speaker with one’s own<br />
semantic and expressive goals will <strong>the</strong> semi-foreign term become one’s own.<br />
Bakht<strong>in</strong> recognizes <strong>in</strong> parody <strong>the</strong> oldest and most widespread form <strong>of</strong> expression<br />
<strong>of</strong> a foreign term. He argues with reference to <strong>the</strong> medieval parodia sacra that <strong>the</strong><br />
term multil<strong>in</strong>gualism does not only refer to national languages but also <strong>in</strong>cludes<br />
dialects. And <strong>in</strong> this context he uses <strong>the</strong> terms hybridization and hybrid with regard<br />
to <strong>the</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> various styles and languages. Bakht<strong>in</strong> regards every parody as<br />
is regarded as dynamic and <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>of</strong> short-term existence; its patterns are relatively new and<br />
can adapt easily to changes so that <strong>the</strong>re is <strong>the</strong> problem <strong>of</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>. Ton Salman describes<br />
cultura popular as ‘a historical and social, and by no means an ontological entity’ with regard<br />
to groups ‘that, virtually, have face-to-face contact’ (1996: 7).<br />
Popular culture on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand is def<strong>in</strong>ed as mass culture, hence as cultural products<br />
produced for <strong>the</strong> larger population, <strong>the</strong> masses. David W. Foster lists, for <strong>in</strong>stance, products<br />
such as newspapers, journals, films, TV, postcards and even speeches and social rituals which<br />
all have a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> folkloristic orig<strong>in</strong> and different grades <strong>of</strong> au<strong>the</strong>nticity, as elements <strong>of</strong> popular<br />
culture (1984: 27–8). There are <strong>the</strong>refore two different understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> ‘popular’. One is an<br />
autonomous group with<strong>in</strong> a state and <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r is <strong>the</strong> large population <strong>of</strong> a state. Unfortunately<br />
both mean<strong>in</strong>gs are <strong>of</strong>ten confused <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> literature. In order to avoid <strong>the</strong> confusion I will use<br />
<strong>the</strong> Spanish term cultura popular <strong>in</strong> contrast to cultura de massas (mass culture).<br />
11 Though García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i did not quote from Todorov’s article one can assume that he<br />
was <strong>in</strong>spired by Todorov (see R<strong>in</strong>cón 1995: 207).
96<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
a hybrid whose languages and styles actively illum<strong>in</strong>e each o<strong>the</strong>r (1979: 331).<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end Bakht<strong>in</strong> sees <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> hybridization as an <strong>in</strong>dented<br />
homogenization process (look, for <strong>in</strong>stance, at his comments about Greek literature;<br />
1979: 323), though most commentators ignore this aspect <strong>of</strong> Bakht<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> reception<br />
<strong>of</strong> his work. Hybridization is def<strong>in</strong>ed with regard to Bakht<strong>in</strong> as a mixture <strong>of</strong> styles<br />
where <strong>the</strong> borders are still visible but already <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> transformation. 12<br />
Todorov <strong>the</strong>n used Bakht<strong>in</strong>’s concept <strong>in</strong> bicultural situations <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>teraction that<br />
took place <strong>in</strong> America dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Spanish conquest, where <strong>the</strong> coexistence <strong>of</strong> two<br />
different cultural and language systems became possible. Todorov dist<strong>in</strong>guishes<br />
between two different k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> cultural contact: one happens without reciprocal<br />
exchange and ends <strong>in</strong> war and genocide; <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r starts a more or less successful<br />
<strong>in</strong>teraction between cultures. For Todorov success is <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> cultural<br />
elements that enrich <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant culture, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> Arabic<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>in</strong>to Spanish culture (1986: 17, 20). With regard to France, which Todorov<br />
considers weak because <strong>of</strong> its lack <strong>of</strong> curiosity towards o<strong>the</strong>r cultures, Todorov<br />
stresses <strong>the</strong> importance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hybrid result <strong>of</strong> a successful <strong>in</strong>teraction between two<br />
cultures (1986: 20). Instead <strong>of</strong> keep<strong>in</strong>g traditions separated and preserv<strong>in</strong>g orig<strong>in</strong>al<br />
cultures, Todorov exam<strong>in</strong>es complex systems such as an Italian-Cuban-Ch<strong>in</strong>ese<br />
restaurant <strong>in</strong> North America. The hybrid <strong>in</strong> Todorov’s concept no longer refers to<br />
Bakht<strong>in</strong>’s dialogic pr<strong>in</strong>ciple but to a transdiscipl<strong>in</strong>ary method, so that <strong>the</strong> hybrid can<br />
be understood as reconversion (R<strong>in</strong>cón 1994: 24). And it is this mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> hybridity<br />
that is used by García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i for characteriz<strong>in</strong>g urban societies. He def<strong>in</strong>es<br />
hybridity as <strong>the</strong> mixture and <strong>in</strong>teraction between mass culture, cultura popular and<br />
<strong>the</strong> so-called ‘high culture’. Look<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> re-establishment <strong>of</strong> social everyday life<br />
he stresses <strong>the</strong> dynamism <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> process <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong> local and <strong>the</strong> cosmopolitan<br />
meet (see Herl<strong>in</strong>ghaus and Walter 1994: 33).<br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i lists three key processes for expla<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g hybridization: ‘<strong>the</strong><br />
break-up and mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> collections that used to organize cultural systems, <strong>the</strong><br />
de-territorialization <strong>of</strong> symbolic processes, and <strong>the</strong> expansion <strong>of</strong> impure genres’<br />
(1997: 207). Urban cultures that were created by social scientists as a substitute<br />
for someth<strong>in</strong>g that can no longer be described as ‘cultural’ or ‘popular’ are good<br />
observation fields for hybrid processes. Lat<strong>in</strong> American societies are transformed by<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g migration from rural areas to urban centres, where <strong>the</strong>re are cont<strong>in</strong>uous<br />
<strong>in</strong>teractions between local and national or even transnational communication<br />
networks. Modern communication media such as television play an <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly<br />
important role <strong>in</strong> this process. Public spheres such as squares and streets have lost,<br />
for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong>ir traditional importance <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Nowadays politicians<br />
regard an appearance on TV or a note <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> newspaper as a ‘public appearance’ ra<strong>the</strong>r<br />
than a Sunday walk around <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> plaza <strong>of</strong> town. Urban culture has to become<br />
restructured because its lead<strong>in</strong>g function with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> public sphere has been taken<br />
over by electronic technologies (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 211). Consequently <strong>the</strong>re<br />
are difficulties understand<strong>in</strong>g urban culture, <strong>in</strong> particular when we doubt whe<strong>the</strong>r<br />
urban culture can still be expla<strong>in</strong>ed with reference to collections <strong>of</strong> symbolic goods.<br />
12 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Petra Schumm who describes hybrid as a term composed out <strong>of</strong><br />
See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Petra Schumm who describes hybrid as a term composed out <strong>of</strong><br />
many languages (1994: 70, with reference to Frank 1991: 380).
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 97<br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i stresses <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>the</strong> importance <strong>of</strong> understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> (comb<strong>in</strong>ed)<br />
processes <strong>of</strong> de-collect<strong>in</strong>g and de-territorialization (1997: 223).<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American societies learnt from Europe <strong>the</strong> separation and hierarchicalization<br />
<strong>of</strong> symbolic goods <strong>in</strong> specialized collections <strong>of</strong> high art and folklore. To know <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
order was a way to own <strong>the</strong>m and to exclude those groups without a l<strong>in</strong>k to this order.<br />
But nowadays <strong>the</strong> separation is no longer obeyed. Art museums present a pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>of</strong> Rembrandt <strong>in</strong> one room and <strong>in</strong>dustrial design <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> next, and <strong>in</strong> between <strong>the</strong>re<br />
are happen<strong>in</strong>gs, <strong>in</strong>stallations, performances and body art by artists not <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong><br />
def<strong>in</strong>ed collections (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 223). Even <strong>the</strong> folklore can no longer<br />
be reduced to museums but can be bought, for <strong>in</strong>stance, as handicrafts <strong>in</strong> urban<br />
markets. ‘If we want to buy <strong>the</strong> best designs, we no longer go to mounta<strong>in</strong>s or <strong>the</strong><br />
forests where <strong>the</strong> Indians who produce <strong>the</strong>m live, because <strong>the</strong> pieces <strong>of</strong> diverse<br />
ethnic groups are mixed toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> shops <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> cities’ (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 224).<br />
Young people construct <strong>the</strong>ir own private museum and decorate <strong>the</strong>ir bedrooms with<br />
posters <strong>of</strong> Madonna and Beethoven, reproductions <strong>of</strong> Klee pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>gs toge<strong>the</strong>r with<br />
symbols <strong>of</strong> a car and holiday postcards with illustrations from archaeological sites.<br />
Video media even allow a new form <strong>of</strong> private collection, with record<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> football<br />
matches, films by Fassb<strong>in</strong>der, North American TV series, and Brazilian telenovelas<br />
all easily accessible (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1989: 81–2).<br />
The de-collect<strong>in</strong>g happens simultaneously with <strong>the</strong> de-territorialization – <strong>the</strong> loss <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> traditional relation <strong>of</strong> a group to geographical territories – as García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i expla<strong>in</strong>s<br />
with reference to Tijuana at <strong>the</strong> border between Mexico and <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i<br />
regards Tijuana as one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> biggest laboratories <strong>of</strong> postmodernity along with <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> (1997: 233). The small border town with approximately 50,000 <strong>in</strong>habitants <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
1950s developed <strong>in</strong>to a city with more than a million people, with migrants from every<br />
part <strong>of</strong> Mexico. Some go daily across <strong>the</strong> border to work, some for a couple <strong>of</strong> weeks<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g plant<strong>in</strong>g and harvest times, and some earn money <strong>in</strong> Tijuana, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
tourist sector. Every year three or four million visitors arrive <strong>in</strong> Tijuana from <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> and<br />
spend money on Mexican handicrafts and so on. One attraction is <strong>the</strong> ‘zebras’ (pa<strong>in</strong>ted<br />
burros). North American tourists like to be photographed on <strong>the</strong>m with a sombrero on <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
head and a pa<strong>in</strong>ted landscape beh<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong>m. In Tijuana English, Spanish and Indigenous<br />
languages are mixed, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> public sphere, accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> situation and <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>tention <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> speaker. Simultaneously with de-territorialization occurs a movement<br />
which García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i calls ‘re-territorialization’. Inhabitants <strong>of</strong> Tijuana <strong>in</strong>troduce signs<br />
<strong>of</strong> identification and rituals <strong>in</strong> order to differentiate <strong>the</strong>mselves from o<strong>the</strong>r groups such<br />
as tourists or anthropologists. Illusion becomes <strong>the</strong> characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hybrid:<br />
Where <strong>the</strong> borders move, <strong>the</strong>y can be rigid or fallen; where build<strong>in</strong>gs are evoked <strong>in</strong> ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
place than <strong>the</strong> one <strong>the</strong>y represent, every day <strong>the</strong> spectacular <strong>in</strong>vention <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city itself is<br />
renewed and expanded. The simulacrum comes to be a central category <strong>of</strong> culture. Not only<br />
is <strong>the</strong> ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntic’ relativized, <strong>the</strong> obvious, ostentatious illusion – like <strong>the</strong> zebra that everyone<br />
knows are fake or <strong>the</strong> hidden games <strong>of</strong> illegal migrants that are ‘tolerated’ by <strong>the</strong> United<br />
States police – becomes a resource for def<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g identity and communicat<strong>in</strong>g with o<strong>the</strong>r.<br />
(García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 236–7)<br />
Referr<strong>in</strong>g to colonial syncretism and cultural modernism dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong><br />
nationality García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i claims that hybridity has ‘a long trajectory’ <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American
98<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
cultures. Even de-collect<strong>in</strong>g and de-territorialization already had predecessors <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American ideas. Many world famous Lat<strong>in</strong> American works <strong>of</strong> art were not produced <strong>in</strong><br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America but <strong>in</strong> Europe or <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, where <strong>the</strong> artists lived. What is <strong>the</strong>n different<br />
<strong>in</strong> postmodern movements? García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i answers this question with reference to <strong>the</strong><br />
lack <strong>of</strong> consistent paradigms. Modern artists also transformed models and concepts but<br />
with reference to legitimacy. Postmodernity, <strong>in</strong> contrast, experiences <strong>the</strong> loss <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> script<br />
and <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> author. There are no great narratives today that are able to order everyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a<br />
hierarchical structure. Postmodernity is not a style ‘but <strong>the</strong> tumultuous co-presence <strong>of</strong> all<br />
styles, <strong>the</strong> place where <strong>the</strong> chapters <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> art and folklore are crossed with each<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r and with <strong>the</strong> new cultural technologies’ (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 244). The expansion<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘impure genres’ exceeds every imag<strong>in</strong>ation and opens any possible border, as studies<br />
about graffiti <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American cities illustrate (see García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 249–58).<br />
An example <strong>of</strong> popular art <strong>in</strong> Mexico will illustrate such <strong>the</strong>oretical explanations.<br />
S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1980s García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i has studied <strong>the</strong> Purhépecha, an <strong>in</strong>digenous group <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Mexican state <strong>of</strong> Michoacán. He <strong>in</strong>vestigated, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> impact <strong>of</strong> tourism on <strong>the</strong><br />
important traditional religious festivals such as All Sa<strong>in</strong>ts’ Day and All Souls’ Day (1 and<br />
2 November) (see García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1982). In his <strong>the</strong>oretical book he looks at a different<br />
aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir culture. In a small village called Ocumicho potters started to produce<br />
colourful ceramic figures <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1960s, mostly Christian presentations <strong>in</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation with<br />
devils. The figures with devils particularly became so successful commercially that <strong>the</strong>y<br />
are today one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most important trad<strong>in</strong>g goods <strong>of</strong> Mexico (Figure 4.2). 13 These figures<br />
are goods <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultura popular <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Purhépecha and belong today to <strong>the</strong> repertoire <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> diverse Mexican culturas populares. They illustrate <strong>the</strong> cultural changes that have<br />
occurred <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last decades and <strong>the</strong> new conceptual designs that have followed.<br />
The Purhépecha live relatively traditionally and differentiate <strong>the</strong>mselves from<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r ethnic groups <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir liv<strong>in</strong>g area with <strong>the</strong>ir own language and <strong>the</strong> preservation<br />
<strong>of</strong> traditional festivals. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1960s <strong>the</strong> devils have become an additional<br />
ethnic characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> group (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 158). Though <strong>the</strong>y are a<br />
local <strong>in</strong>vention <strong>the</strong>y developed <strong>in</strong>to a widely recognized aspect <strong>of</strong> identification <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Purhépecha because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir commercial success. Dur<strong>in</strong>g my visit to Ocumicho<br />
<strong>in</strong> 1986 potters produced religious and secular figures ma<strong>in</strong>ly <strong>of</strong> dead people and<br />
skeletons, though some figures also represented devils (Schmidt 2001b). Only a few<br />
years later García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i describes figures with devils exclusively, whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y<br />
present religious topics such as <strong>the</strong> Last Supper or secular topics such as market trade.<br />
Whe<strong>the</strong>r a pilot <strong>of</strong> an airplane, a disciple <strong>of</strong> Jesus or a drunkard – every figure is<br />
horned and open-mou<strong>the</strong>d. The devils make fun <strong>of</strong> foreign religion as well as <strong>of</strong> foreign<br />
political events such as <strong>the</strong> French Revolution. The potters present <strong>the</strong>ir own version<br />
<strong>of</strong> history based on images that Mercedes Iturbe, director <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cultural Center <strong>of</strong><br />
Mexico <strong>in</strong> Paris, brought to Ocumicho. The potters relate <strong>the</strong> French Revolution to <strong>the</strong><br />
violent conquest <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir own empire by <strong>the</strong> Spanish conquistadors. In contrast to o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
Mexican ethnic groups, <strong>the</strong> Purhépecha ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>in</strong>dependence from <strong>the</strong> Aztec<br />
Empire and hence refused to help <strong>the</strong> Spanish army <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir war aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> Aztecs.<br />
13 I conducted my first fieldwork (about <strong>the</strong> traditional medic<strong>in</strong>e <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Purhépecha) <strong>in</strong><br />
this area and assisted a colleague buy<strong>in</strong>g several figures for <strong>the</strong> ethnographic collection <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
University <strong>of</strong> Marburg, Germany. See Schmidt 1989, 2001b.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 99<br />
After <strong>the</strong> victory <strong>the</strong> Spanish conquistadores subdued <strong>the</strong> Purhépecha. With <strong>the</strong> help<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>quisition <strong>the</strong> Purhépecha were quickly and violently converted to Christianity.<br />
The figures produced <strong>in</strong> Ocumicho illustrate that ‘folk or traditional cultural facts are<br />
today <strong>the</strong> multideterm<strong>in</strong>ed product <strong>of</strong> actors that are popular and hegemonic, peasant<br />
and urban, local, national, and transnational’ (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 157).<br />
Figure 4.2<br />
Ocumicho pottery (Ethnographical Collection, Philipps-University <strong>of</strong><br />
(Ethnographical Collection, Philipps-University <strong>of</strong><br />
Marburg, 2001)<br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i discusses <strong>the</strong> cultural concept <strong>of</strong> Antonio Gramsci – who divides<br />
culture <strong>in</strong>to different categories – <strong>in</strong> his analysis. The (correct) culture must <strong>in</strong>clude<br />
a conception <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> world; specialized producers; pre-em<strong>in</strong>ent social bearers; <strong>the</strong>
100<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
capacity to <strong>in</strong>tegrate <strong>in</strong>to a social whole and br<strong>in</strong>g it ‘to th<strong>in</strong>k coherently and <strong>in</strong> a<br />
unitary way’, to make possible <strong>the</strong> struggle for hegemony, to manifest itself through a<br />
material and <strong>in</strong>stitutional organization (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 181, with reference to<br />
José Joaquín Brunner and his <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> Gramsci). If one were to follow <strong>the</strong>se<br />
categories, <strong>the</strong>n one would have to def<strong>in</strong>e <strong>the</strong> above examples as folklore and not as<br />
part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural repertoire. There would be, accord<strong>in</strong>g to Gramsci’s concept, no<br />
popular culture <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America.<br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i challenges this declassification <strong>of</strong> cultural art <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America<br />
by argu<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> conventional perspectives <strong>of</strong> folklorists. With reference to <strong>the</strong><br />
Ocumicho figures and o<strong>the</strong>r popular goods he describes six aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>of</strong> folklore <strong>in</strong> a modern society <strong>in</strong> order to suspend <strong>the</strong> conventional dichotomy<br />
between traditional and modern (García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1997: 152–70):<br />
1.<br />
2.<br />
3.<br />
4.<br />
5.<br />
6.<br />
‘Modern development does not suppress traditional popular culture.’ The<br />
last decades have shown that traditional artisans learnt how to use technical<br />
developments for <strong>the</strong>ir own purposes. Instead <strong>of</strong> react<strong>in</strong>g passively to changes<br />
<strong>the</strong>y managed to <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>the</strong> production <strong>of</strong> folklore handicrafts and hence <strong>the</strong><br />
economic value <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sector with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> gross national product.<br />
‘Peasant and traditional culture no longer represent <strong>the</strong> major part <strong>of</strong> popular<br />
culture.’ In every Lat<strong>in</strong> American country <strong>the</strong>re has been a massive migration<br />
movement from <strong>the</strong> countryside to urban areas. And even <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> rural parts<br />
folklore has lost its ‘closed and stable character <strong>of</strong> an archaic universe’; it has<br />
been transformed because <strong>of</strong> migration, tourism, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> electronic<br />
media and o<strong>the</strong>r factors. After arrival <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> urban centre <strong>the</strong> migrants develop<br />
quickly <strong>in</strong>to ‘urbanoid groups’, as García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i phrases it, with reference<br />
to <strong>the</strong> Brazilian anthropologist José Jorge de Carvalho.<br />
‘The popular is not concentrated <strong>in</strong> objects’ but can also be found <strong>in</strong><br />
communication processes and social practices. This <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> so-called<br />
traditional festivals that are no longer ‘traditional’ <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> conventional sense.<br />
‘The popular is not a monopoly <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> popular sector.’ Recent developments<br />
have shown that specific folklore does not belong only to a limited group or a<br />
social class. Consequently a person can belong to various folklore groups.<br />
‘The popular is not lived by popular subjects as a melancholic complacency<br />
with traditions.’ As <strong>the</strong> studies about Lat<strong>in</strong> American carnival traditions or <strong>the</strong><br />
devil figures <strong>of</strong> Ocumicho show, humour is <strong>the</strong> central characteristic <strong>in</strong>stead<br />
<strong>of</strong> sadness.<br />
‘The pure preservation <strong>of</strong> traditions is not always <strong>the</strong> best popular resource for<br />
reproduc<strong>in</strong>g itself and re-elaborat<strong>in</strong>g its situation.’ The figures <strong>of</strong> Ocumicho<br />
illustrate aga<strong>in</strong> how creatively <strong>the</strong> potters handle <strong>the</strong> traditions and how<br />
productive this process can be.<br />
These six aspects illustrate that García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i does not regard <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> a<br />
traditional culture as passive and suppressed but as active and creative protagonists<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultura popular. Referr<strong>in</strong>g to his concept <strong>of</strong> hybrid cultures he illustrates that<br />
contemporary postmodern societies have abolished <strong>the</strong> separation between traditional<br />
and modern; <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> a culture cannot be limited <strong>in</strong>to rigid areas, hence also
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 101<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir products are not only used by strictly def<strong>in</strong>ed groups. Folkloristic elements<br />
move from one group to ano<strong>the</strong>r and are used <strong>in</strong> urban as well as <strong>in</strong> rural contexts.<br />
They do not lose <strong>the</strong>ir significance but adjust it accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> conditions.<br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i starts his <strong>in</strong>terpretation with <strong>the</strong> urban culture <strong>in</strong> Mexico <strong>City</strong><br />
but without ignor<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> rural part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> country. None<strong>the</strong>less his concept refers<br />
ma<strong>in</strong>ly to <strong>the</strong> urban culture that became symbolic <strong>of</strong> postmodern Lat<strong>in</strong> America. The<br />
critique aga<strong>in</strong>st his concept, however, does not challenge this limitation but ra<strong>the</strong>r<br />
<strong>the</strong> term ‘hybrid’, which is rejected because <strong>of</strong> its ambivalent mean<strong>in</strong>g. Because <strong>of</strong><br />
its derivation from botany, critics <strong>of</strong> García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i consider hybrid to be negative.<br />
They translate hybrid <strong>in</strong> relation to botanic nomenclature as ‘<strong>in</strong>fertile bastard’. Jean<br />
Benoist, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>in</strong>terprets <strong>the</strong> term hybridity as someth<strong>in</strong>g unnatural that was<br />
created by humans act<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>st natural laws. The hybrid product <strong>of</strong> a non-natural<br />
fertility is <strong>the</strong>refore not only fragile but also sterile (Benoist 1996: 48).<br />
However, García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i uses <strong>the</strong> term hybrid with an implicit positive connotation.<br />
‘Hybrid’ <strong>in</strong>cludes characteristics <strong>of</strong> two (or more) cultures that are regarded as<br />
someth<strong>in</strong>g positive. While <strong>the</strong> term mestizaje implies a biological naturalness (i.e.<br />
unsophisticatedness) <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> botanic metaphor reflects more on<br />
<strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> sense <strong>of</strong> cultivat<strong>in</strong>g, as Ellen Spielmann affirms (1994a:<br />
15). Despite criticism, hybrid quickly became a term to illustrate contemporary Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American culture. Raymondo Mier, for example, <strong>in</strong> conversation with Margarita Zires,<br />
Mabel Picc<strong>in</strong>i and Néstor García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, praised <strong>the</strong> term hybrid as ‘a frontier species,<br />
a happen<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> sudden eruption <strong>of</strong> morphology still without a well-established place<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> taxonomies’ (<strong>in</strong> García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1995: 77). Though Mier limits his praise by<br />
referr<strong>in</strong>g to his total ignorance <strong>of</strong> botany, he elaborates that ‘<strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> hybrid cultures<br />
… permits <strong>the</strong> imag<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> social morphologies, fields <strong>of</strong> s<strong>in</strong>gularized regularity,<br />
designations <strong>of</strong> catastrophe, but a catastrophe that is not a limit<strong>in</strong>g border, a mere po<strong>in</strong>t<br />
<strong>of</strong> s<strong>in</strong>gularity, <strong>the</strong> space <strong>of</strong> a fracture’ (<strong>in</strong> García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1995: 77).<br />
Mier characterizes <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> hybrid cultures as a methodological challenge<br />
for all sectors <strong>of</strong> cultural studies and argues ma<strong>in</strong>ly on a political level. García<br />
Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, always refers to <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American past and present <strong>in</strong><br />
his answers, and argues with regard to music, dance and colonial history. With <strong>the</strong><br />
term ‘hybrid’ García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i challenges <strong>the</strong> perception <strong>of</strong> culture as homogeneous<br />
nuclei, as Margarita Zires highlights; <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> regard<strong>in</strong>g culture as a static body<br />
<strong>of</strong> products or specific cultural elements he refers to ‘processes <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terrelation<br />
<strong>of</strong> discursive elements that have multiple forms, genres, or formats and that are <strong>in</strong><br />
a permanent transformation’ (<strong>in</strong> García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i 1995: 78). Hybrid cultures do not<br />
have a permanent identity; hence Zires asks whe<strong>the</strong>r one should regard perhaps all<br />
cultures as hybrid cultures. Without really address<strong>in</strong>g her question García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i<br />
answers with reference to different historical versions <strong>of</strong> hybridization, hence his<br />
answer demonstrates his lack <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>terest <strong>in</strong> transferr<strong>in</strong>g his concept <strong>of</strong> hybrid cultures<br />
to o<strong>the</strong>r regions. He focuses only on Lat<strong>in</strong> America, his own work<strong>in</strong>g area. The<br />
hybrid is always connected to local contexts, as Spielmann comments elsewhere,<br />
and resists all efforts <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>in</strong>to a global system (Spielmann 1994a: 15, with<br />
reference to R<strong>in</strong>cón 1995). On a <strong>the</strong>oretical level it rema<strong>in</strong>s impossible to speak <strong>of</strong> a<br />
global hybrid culture, only local systems can be identified as hybrid.
102<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i’s cultural concept is at <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terface <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> multicultural. He<br />
looks at dichotomously construed visual collages and refers simultaneously to <strong>the</strong><br />
heterogeneous or multicultural nature <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American culture. His deconstruction<br />
<strong>in</strong>cludes some contradictions. For <strong>in</strong>stance, when he challenges <strong>the</strong> ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntic’<br />
(such as <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> traditional orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> folkloristic elements), he tries to identify <strong>the</strong><br />
characteristics <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American modernity at <strong>the</strong> same time. The hybrid is, as Petra<br />
Schumm summarizes, a mode <strong>of</strong> postmodern th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g (1994: 76).<br />
Until recently anthropologists had ignored <strong>the</strong> term hybrid cultures, though it<br />
describes <strong>the</strong> current situation <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America much better than <strong>the</strong> term mestizaje.<br />
The latter implies a one-dimensional perspective, because <strong>the</strong> process aims at cultural<br />
homogenization, while <strong>the</strong> transdiscipl<strong>in</strong>ary perspective <strong>of</strong> García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i refers<br />
to a reciprocal and ambivalent relation. García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i’s concept focuses on <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>terpenetration <strong>of</strong> complex processes <strong>of</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g, as Margarita Zires <strong>in</strong>dicates (1997:<br />
46). While cultural heterogeneity po<strong>in</strong>ts to <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> cultures that do not exist <strong>in</strong><br />
isolation but <strong>in</strong> reciprocal dependence, cultural hybridity highlights <strong>the</strong> simultaneous<br />
existence <strong>of</strong> homogeneous and heterogeneous trajectories. As <strong>the</strong> example <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
devil figures illustrate, <strong>the</strong>y symbolize traditional (though not au<strong>the</strong>ntic) and modern<br />
elements, <strong>the</strong>y are made by traditional handicraft techniques but with modern motives<br />
and <strong>the</strong>y are produced for an external market but are regarded as ‘typically’ Mexican.<br />
From a one-dimensional perspective an anthropological museum should refuse to<br />
present <strong>the</strong> ceramics because <strong>the</strong>y are tourist goods and hence not ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntically’<br />
<strong>in</strong>digenous. None<strong>the</strong>less, from a hybrid perspective <strong>the</strong>y symbolize <strong>the</strong> contemporary<br />
culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Purhépecha and even Mexican culture <strong>in</strong> a concise way. The limitation <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> hybrid cultures becomes visible when it is transferred to o<strong>the</strong>r situations.<br />
It is possible to apply <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> hybrid cultures to o<strong>the</strong>r Lat<strong>in</strong> American contexts,<br />
as I did recently with reference to religious festivals <strong>in</strong> mestizo villages <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Andes <strong>of</strong><br />
South Ecuador (see Schmidt 2000). The situation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Andes matches <strong>the</strong> situation <strong>in</strong><br />
Mexico, that is, <strong>the</strong> permanent mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> diverse trajectories, which makes <strong>the</strong> notion<br />
<strong>of</strong> bipolar cultures more than doubtful.<br />
The <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, however, experience<br />
different processes. Once aga<strong>in</strong> I will refer to <strong>the</strong> service <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha<br />
Baptist Church <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn, described above. García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i argues that cultures<br />
do not exist with homogeneous nuclei or centres but perform a permanent process<br />
<strong>of</strong> new orientation. However, <strong>the</strong> belief system <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church illustrates <strong>the</strong> existence<br />
<strong>of</strong> fixed po<strong>in</strong>ts. <strong>New</strong> elements can cont<strong>in</strong>uously adjust around <strong>the</strong>se bench-marks<br />
– <strong>the</strong> system represents an open structure – but it also <strong>of</strong>fers <strong>the</strong> members a relatively<br />
stable frame. García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i always stresses permanent dynamism, which does<br />
characterize <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions, but one detects some structure at <strong>the</strong> same time.<br />
Despite his critique <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> representatives <strong>of</strong> mestizaje García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i sublim<strong>in</strong>ally<br />
conceives <strong>the</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> two limited systems – <strong>in</strong>digenous and European, traditional<br />
and modern or rural and urban. But <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious communities are created<br />
by a different process, as I expla<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last chapter. They are not products <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
mixture <strong>of</strong> two similar systems but <strong>the</strong> result <strong>of</strong> slavery. Though <strong>the</strong> consolidation <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> religions started after <strong>the</strong> abolishment <strong>of</strong> slavery, <strong>the</strong>ir roots are <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> system <strong>of</strong><br />
suppression that created <strong>the</strong> framework while <strong>the</strong> contents have adjusted cont<strong>in</strong>uously<br />
s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong>n. The figure <strong>of</strong> Buddha is a relatively new part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pan<strong>the</strong>on <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 103<br />
Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, while <strong>the</strong> H<strong>in</strong>du gods and goddesses were <strong>in</strong>cluded<br />
some time before. But despite every change, <strong>the</strong> centre ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong>s a Christian figure<br />
such as <strong>the</strong> Virg<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> Lourdes. She ‘survived’, toge<strong>the</strong>r with <strong>the</strong> African gods, <strong>the</strong><br />
Protestant period as well as <strong>the</strong> Kabbalah or H<strong>in</strong>du <strong>in</strong>fluences and ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong>s her<br />
importance even <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn. A separation would probably lead to<br />
<strong>the</strong> closure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community.<br />
And this is <strong>the</strong> weak po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hybrid. García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i still dreams <strong>of</strong> a culture<br />
as a whole entity despite his criticism <strong>of</strong> modernity, hence he is still connected to<br />
<strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> mestizaje. Though he argues with reference to ethnographic examples<br />
and describes human be<strong>in</strong>gs as active protagonists, he lacks total immersion <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
culture <strong>of</strong> one specific group and affection for <strong>the</strong> material. 14 The criticism <strong>of</strong> his<br />
book rarely deals with <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American presence <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American images. On<br />
a highly abstract level scholars discuss <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g or mean<strong>in</strong>glessness <strong>of</strong> cultural<br />
concepts without <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g human be<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir reflection. None<strong>the</strong>less, García<br />
Cancl<strong>in</strong>i’s concept <strong>of</strong> hybrid cultures has had remarkably positive <strong>in</strong>fluences on <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>vestigation and understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American cultures.<br />
Cultural Heterogeneity <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Context <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> Media<br />
Apart from García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i’s hybridity concept, which has opened a new pathway<br />
for research <strong>in</strong>to heterogeneity, o<strong>the</strong>r studies were developed <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America<br />
which referred to cultural heterogeneity as an expression <strong>of</strong> a local postmodernism<br />
(Brunner 1995). They are part <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American discourse about postmodernity<br />
but represent a different k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g from <strong>the</strong> European and North American<br />
discourse. As <strong>the</strong> Chilean scholar Nelly Richard writes:<br />
The Lat<strong>in</strong> American ‘cultural heterogeneity’ (mixture <strong>of</strong> identities, hybridity <strong>of</strong> traditions,<br />
comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> languages) would confirm – through fragment<strong>in</strong>g and dispersal – a specific<br />
type <strong>of</strong> ‘avant la lettre postmodernism’ accord<strong>in</strong>g to whom Lat<strong>in</strong> America, traditional<br />
subord<strong>in</strong>ate and imitative, would become precursor <strong>of</strong> a postmodern culture.<br />
[La ‘heterogeneidad cultural’ lat<strong>in</strong>oamericana (mestizaje de identidades; hibridismo de<br />
tradiciones; cruzamientos de lenguas) habría <strong>in</strong>cluso conformado – por fragmentación<br />
y disem<strong>in</strong>ación – una especie de ‘postmodernismo avant la leetre’, según el cual<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong>oamérica, tradicionalmente subord<strong>in</strong>ada e imitativa, pasaría a ser hoy precursora de<br />
lo que la cultura posmoderne.] (Richard 1994: 216–17, my translation)<br />
Representatives <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American postmodernity always po<strong>in</strong>t out that<br />
postmodernity <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America does not follow modernity <strong>in</strong> a l<strong>in</strong>ear way. Different<br />
from <strong>the</strong> Euro-American tradition that is <strong>in</strong>fluenced by a l<strong>in</strong>ear idea <strong>of</strong> progress,<br />
modernity and postmodernity exist simultaneously <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and are<br />
<strong>in</strong>terwoven with each o<strong>the</strong>r. The discourse about postmodernity <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America is<br />
<strong>the</strong>refore connected to postcolonial discourse and rejects <strong>the</strong> Eurocentric categories<br />
<strong>of</strong> postmodernity. As early as <strong>the</strong> 1970s literary critics and social scientists <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
14 Carlos R<strong>in</strong>cón attributes this attitude to a different representative <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> heterogeneity<br />
Carlos R<strong>in</strong>cón attributes this attitude to a different representative <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> heterogeneity<br />
debate, Carlos Monsiváis (see R<strong>in</strong>cón 1994: 29).
104<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
America started to become fasc<strong>in</strong>ated by <strong>the</strong> ‘simultaneity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>-simultaneous’<br />
as Carlos R<strong>in</strong>cón writes (with reference to an expression by Ernst Bloch;<br />
1995: 217). The debate is divided <strong>in</strong>to two sections: representatives <strong>of</strong> one group reject<br />
<strong>the</strong> transfer <strong>of</strong> Euro-American categories rigorously and refer to <strong>the</strong> dist<strong>in</strong>ctiveness<br />
<strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America while representatives <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r group (such as R<strong>in</strong>cón himself)<br />
look at <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American development with reference to <strong>the</strong> well-known books by<br />
Jean-François Lyotard, Jean Baudrillard, Edward W. Said and Jürgen Habermas.<br />
As John Beverly and José Oviedo write, postmodernity is not a good term for<br />
national countries that still have not fulfilled <strong>the</strong> modern period (1995: 2). Octavio<br />
Paz regards postmodernity as ano<strong>the</strong>r imported grand récit that does not suit Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America, such that new categories should be construed (1987b: 26–7). 15 European<br />
postmodernism came <strong>in</strong>to be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> order to describe <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> modernity <strong>in</strong> Europe,<br />
orig<strong>in</strong>at<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> crisis <strong>of</strong> modernity <strong>in</strong> Europe, which questioned European identity<br />
(Quijano 1995: 201–9). Even modernity is, accord<strong>in</strong>g to Habermas, an exclusively<br />
European phenomenon and is not transferable to o<strong>the</strong>r regions. The Argent<strong>in</strong>ean<br />
scholar Enrique Dussel disagrees, argu<strong>in</strong>g that modernity could only be articulated<br />
<strong>in</strong> a dialectic relationship to non-European alterities, and for this reason it started <strong>in</strong><br />
1492. Europe is <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> world history with <strong>the</strong> periphery as part <strong>of</strong> its def<strong>in</strong>ition<br />
(see Dussel 1995: 65–6, with reference to Habermas 1986). 16 Most scholars are, on<br />
<strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, very reluctant to refer to <strong>the</strong> debates <strong>in</strong> North America and Europe,<br />
and <strong>the</strong>refore also to <strong>the</strong> debate about postmodernism, which has developed <strong>in</strong>to a<br />
political issue (see, for <strong>in</strong>stance, Lechner 1995: 147–8). They criticize <strong>in</strong> particular<br />
a strong neo-colonial attitude with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> postmodernism that degenerates<br />
or ignores Lat<strong>in</strong> American <strong>the</strong>ories. But Lat<strong>in</strong> American history is a history <strong>of</strong><br />
resistance to <strong>the</strong> European-American imag<strong>in</strong>ation (Gabriel 1999: 161), and hence<br />
also a struggle aga<strong>in</strong>st European-American ideas <strong>of</strong> postmodernism. Lat<strong>in</strong> America<br />
cannot be characterized by a specific style but by a form <strong>of</strong> culture and politics<br />
(Martín-Barbero 1995: 30). García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, for <strong>in</strong>stance, describes a picture that<br />
comb<strong>in</strong>es hyper-realistic, impressionistic and pop-art elements, or a masque that<br />
comb<strong>in</strong>es traditional icons with images from TV as postmodern, not because <strong>of</strong> its<br />
style but because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> turbulent coexistence <strong>of</strong> all <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se elements, because <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> location where art and folklore meet (1989: 87). Beverly and Oviedo disagree<br />
15 The problem is <strong>the</strong> narrow def<strong>in</strong>itions <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Eurocentric categories ‘modern’ and<br />
‘postmodern’ and <strong>the</strong> translation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se terms <strong>in</strong>to Spanish. Beverly and Oviedo use <strong>the</strong> term<br />
postmodernism as a label for Lat<strong>in</strong> American postmodernity. But <strong>the</strong> translation <strong>of</strong> postmodernism<br />
<strong>in</strong>to Spanish is problematic because modernismo and postmodernismo refer to Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
literary movements at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century, which have noth<strong>in</strong>g to do with <strong>the</strong><br />
European concepts. An adequate translation would be vanguadismo and posvanguadismo accord<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to Beverly and Oviedo though <strong>the</strong>y realize that most scholars use <strong>the</strong> term postmodernismo <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Euro-American mean<strong>in</strong>g when <strong>the</strong>y describe Lat<strong>in</strong> American development (1995: 2, fn. 1). Jesús<br />
Martín-Barbero uses <strong>the</strong> term<strong>in</strong>ology modernidad and postmodernidad <strong>in</strong> an article about <strong>the</strong><br />
two different movements as well as (like García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i) postmoderno (1995), so I have decided<br />
to use <strong>the</strong> terms postmodern and Lat<strong>in</strong> American postmodernity.<br />
16 See Huyssen 1997 for <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> postmodernity, and<br />
Rosenau 1992 for <strong>in</strong>formation about <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> postmodernity <strong>in</strong> social science and<br />
anthropology.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 105<br />
and declare that <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> postmodernism is a new form <strong>of</strong> cultural imperialism<br />
that was imported to Lat<strong>in</strong> America <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s, simultaneously with <strong>the</strong> spread<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> political hegemony <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> Right (1995: 2). But <strong>the</strong> debate about Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American postmodernity rema<strong>in</strong>s very lively despite <strong>the</strong>ir critique. The Bolivian<br />
Fernando Calderón looks at possible reasons for <strong>the</strong> read<strong>in</strong>ess to accept and follow<br />
foreign phenomena <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and states:<br />
Maybe because we live <strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>complete and mixed times <strong>of</strong> premodernity, modernity, and<br />
postmodernity, each <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se l<strong>in</strong>ked historically <strong>in</strong> turn with correspond<strong>in</strong>g cultures that<br />
are, or were, epicenters <strong>of</strong> power. That is why our cultural temporalities are, <strong>in</strong> addition to<br />
<strong>in</strong>complete and mixed, dependent. (1995: 55)<br />
The reason lies with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonial time because <strong>the</strong> colonial culture was already<br />
<strong>in</strong>complete. The imported Christian deities could never replace <strong>the</strong> old gods;<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> Peruvian Aníbal Quijano <strong>the</strong>y could only be <strong>in</strong>corporated <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong><br />
poly<strong>the</strong>ism <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous cultures because <strong>of</strong> a concealed dualism <strong>of</strong> belief and<br />
m<strong>in</strong>d-structures that is typical <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. This dualism signifies more than <strong>the</strong><br />
opposition between modern and non-modern, as Quijano expla<strong>in</strong>s with reference to<br />
José Carlos Mariateguí who – not unusually <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America – described himself as<br />
be<strong>in</strong>g a Marxist and a Catholic at <strong>the</strong> same time (Quijano 1995: 210). Hence Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America did not develop a hegemonic system, but <strong>the</strong> temporary simultaneity <strong>of</strong><br />
various systems. Stephan Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er even declares that Lat<strong>in</strong> America seems to be<br />
<strong>the</strong> postmodern cont<strong>in</strong>ent par excellence because <strong>of</strong> its ethnic-cultural and extreme<br />
social heterogeneity (1994: 174). None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>the</strong> debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America is<br />
still focused on two questions: Can modernity be regarded as successful though most<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ideals <strong>of</strong> modernity such as civil rights are not (yet) realized? And, how can<br />
one handle <strong>the</strong> postmodern valorization <strong>of</strong> heterogeneity (Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er 1994: 173)?<br />
These questions lead me back to <strong>the</strong> concepts <strong>of</strong> cultural heterogeneity <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America. Carlos Monsiváis describes postmodern culture with a poetic collage that<br />
illustrates <strong>the</strong> cultural heterogeneity <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American postmodernity as a product<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternational market (1983: 75). Cultural heterogeneity does not signify<br />
diverse cultures or <strong>the</strong> subcultures <strong>of</strong> ethnic groups, social classes or local groups but<br />
‘a segmented and differential participation <strong>in</strong> an <strong>in</strong>ternational market <strong>of</strong> messages’<br />
(Brunner 1995: 40–41). But it also reflects <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> North America, which<br />
leads to a grow<strong>in</strong>g criticism <strong>of</strong> postmodernism as North American <strong>in</strong>vasion.<br />
As part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternational market <strong>the</strong> mass media became central. A prime example<br />
is <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> telenovelas, Lat<strong>in</strong> American soap operas. Unlike European and North<br />
American soaps, telenovelas tell a story (with several entanglements) from start to<br />
end. They comb<strong>in</strong>e <strong>the</strong> script <strong>of</strong> a novel, a play or a TV screenplay, with technologies<br />
from film, radio and <strong>the</strong>atre (Armbruster 1994: 181). They are broadcast from Monday<br />
to Friday at a certa<strong>in</strong> time over some weeks and reach nearly all houses with a TV.<br />
They <strong>the</strong>refore have a national dimension because members <strong>of</strong> different social groups<br />
and generations watch <strong>the</strong>m. Telenovelas belong to <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant narrative style <strong>of</strong><br />
contemporary Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Brazil, Mexico, Columbia and Venezuela are <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong><br />
producers <strong>of</strong> telenovelas. They always tell melodramatic stories with a happy end<strong>in</strong>g<br />
(aga<strong>in</strong>st all odds <strong>the</strong> lovers will f<strong>in</strong>ally reunite, and <strong>the</strong> evil figures receive <strong>the</strong>ir
106<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
punishments). There are numerous variations: <strong>the</strong> story l<strong>in</strong>e can be <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> past and<br />
highlight important aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> national history, or it can be <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> present though<br />
it is <strong>the</strong>n <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>in</strong> an urban and upper-class context. But <strong>the</strong> story can also reflect <strong>the</strong><br />
problems <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rural population or <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American emigrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. HIV,<br />
drug misuse, domestic violence, prostitution and child traffick<strong>in</strong>g are <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>in</strong>cluded<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> subplots <strong>of</strong> a telenovela, as well as important periods <strong>in</strong> national history (such<br />
as slavery <strong>in</strong> Brazilian telenovelas or <strong>the</strong> Mexican Revolution <strong>in</strong> Mexican ones). If<br />
someone misses one programme, someone will tell him or her about <strong>the</strong> episode’s<br />
content. Some telenovelas are <strong>of</strong> national importance and are central elements <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> cultura de masas (popular culture). TV, c<strong>in</strong>ema and radio are important for <strong>the</strong><br />
constitution <strong>of</strong> national symbols (Zires 1997: 371). Telenovelas are <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
analysed as a prism for <strong>the</strong> observation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> society (Armbruster 1994) because <strong>the</strong>y<br />
belong to <strong>the</strong> central cultural <strong>in</strong>stitutions <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. They comb<strong>in</strong>e various<br />
genres such as melodrama, education, comedy and enterta<strong>in</strong>ment; <strong>the</strong>ir success is<br />
grounded on <strong>the</strong> hybrid discourse. Martín-Barbero even declares that <strong>the</strong> melodramatic<br />
style <strong>of</strong> telenovelas is typical <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America, it is <strong>the</strong> modern and postmodern type<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> genre melodrama, hence part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> narrativa popular (oral tradition; Martín-<br />
Barbero and Muñoz 1992: 13). He regards telenovelas as <strong>the</strong> expression <strong>of</strong> postmodern<br />
orality and a central element <strong>of</strong> popular culture, created through <strong>the</strong> osmosis <strong>of</strong> urban<br />
writ<strong>in</strong>g styles and oral traditions (see Armbruster 1994: 186–92). Even <strong>the</strong> new<br />
cultures <strong>of</strong> music and videos, which at first glance seem to threaten national culture,<br />
do not imply an anti-national direction or <strong>the</strong> exclusion <strong>of</strong> territorial sensitization.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, Martín-Barbero does also <strong>in</strong>dicate risks <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g spread <strong>of</strong> new<br />
communication media that support <strong>the</strong> homogenization <strong>of</strong> cultures. The result will be<br />
de-territorialization and <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> cultures and subcultures without territorial<br />
frameworks or memory (Martín-Barbero 1995: 338–40).<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American communication studies always describe an immense heterogeneous<br />
culture that mixes, reorganizes and re<strong>in</strong>terprets elements from various sources. They<br />
regard societies from <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir material such as a telenovela or a comic<br />
that <strong>the</strong>n becomes <strong>the</strong> symbol <strong>of</strong> national society. Foster, for example, studies <strong>the</strong><br />
village <strong>of</strong> San Garabato, <strong>the</strong> location <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> comic Los Supermachos, as a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong><br />
microcosm <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Mexican republic <strong>in</strong> order to overcome <strong>the</strong> dichotomy between <strong>the</strong><br />
capital and <strong>the</strong> rural villages <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> h<strong>in</strong>terland (1984: 38).<br />
Margarita Zires presents a more differentiated analysis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> modern<br />
communication media <strong>in</strong> her study <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rumours about Smurfs among Mexican<br />
children. While most studies limit <strong>the</strong>mselves to <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> consequences <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> communication media, she <strong>in</strong>vestigates <strong>the</strong> processes <strong>of</strong> acquisition <strong>in</strong><br />
specific contexts (Zires 1997: 18), based on <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ory that cultures change when<br />
<strong>the</strong>y <strong>in</strong>corporate new elements. But this process is not always identical because<br />
all elements <strong>of</strong> a culture will be reorganized with <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> new parts. The<br />
McDonaldization <strong>of</strong> cultures does not always have <strong>the</strong> same impact.<br />
In order to demonstrate her <strong>the</strong>ory Zires <strong>in</strong>vestigates <strong>the</strong> reciprocal connections<br />
and dependencies between oral, written and audiovisual cultures <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Mexican<br />
context. Based on <strong>the</strong> assumption that <strong>the</strong>re is a permanent tension between <strong>the</strong><br />
tendency <strong>of</strong> homogenization and <strong>the</strong> tendency <strong>of</strong> cultural diversification – hence, both<br />
tendencies are not opposed <strong>in</strong> a bipolar schema – Zires shows how both tendencies
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 107<br />
coexist, cross and <strong>in</strong>fluence each o<strong>the</strong>r (1997: 21). She focuses <strong>in</strong> her study on <strong>the</strong><br />
analysis <strong>of</strong> a rumour <strong>in</strong> order to understand <strong>the</strong> dynamic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> transformation <strong>of</strong> oral<br />
stories, a dimension <strong>of</strong>ten ignored by communication studies. Instead <strong>of</strong> study<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> stories as written texts, she follows Michel de Certeau (L’écriture de l’histoire,<br />
1975, <strong>in</strong> English <strong>in</strong> 1988) and <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> ‘voice <strong>in</strong> action’ <strong>in</strong> her analysis. She not<br />
only quotes frequently and extensively from her <strong>in</strong>terviews, but always <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>in</strong><br />
her <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>the</strong> narrative moment (<strong>the</strong> voice, <strong>the</strong> vibes, <strong>the</strong> group dynamic<br />
and so on). Her study follows <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>the</strong> tradition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ethno-l<strong>in</strong>guistic, or <strong>the</strong><br />
ethnography <strong>of</strong> speak<strong>in</strong>g, which demands <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> narrative context<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation (Bauman 1986: 7; see also Tedlock 1988 or <strong>the</strong> contributions <strong>in</strong><br />
Bauman and Sherzer 1989). The focus on orality is important <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America where most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> population has easier access to <strong>the</strong> new communication<br />
technologies such as radio, TV and c<strong>in</strong>ema than to <strong>the</strong> formal education and book<br />
culture that have central importance <strong>in</strong> Europe. Illiteracy does not stop access to<br />
<strong>the</strong> new communication media; on <strong>the</strong> contrary, its value <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America is even<br />
significantly higher than <strong>in</strong> a literate society. But it is important that studies are<br />
not limited to consumption because it would reduce <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terviewees to consumers<br />
(Zires 1997: 74–5, 91). Zires focuses <strong>the</strong>refore on <strong>the</strong> acquisition <strong>of</strong> TV discourse <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> way <strong>of</strong> speak<strong>in</strong>g and writ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> children whom she describes as act<strong>in</strong>g subjects.<br />
She conducted her case study at three primary schools <strong>in</strong> different areas <strong>of</strong><br />
Mexico where she <strong>in</strong>terviewed groups <strong>of</strong> children (<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> fourth to sixth grades)<br />
about <strong>the</strong> rumour about Smurfs, and also asked <strong>the</strong>m to write essays about <strong>the</strong>m. In<br />
addition to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>formation given by <strong>the</strong> children she handed out questionnaires to<br />
teachers and asked <strong>the</strong>m to provide supplementary <strong>in</strong>formation. The rumour is that<br />
dolls and toys can transform <strong>in</strong>to Smurfs and kill children. The start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t was a<br />
comic strip series produced <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, which has been broadcast <strong>in</strong> Mexico s<strong>in</strong>ce<br />
1982. Smurfs are docile gobl<strong>in</strong>s hunted by <strong>the</strong> giant Gargamel. At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
series was a great success, until <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g spread <strong>of</strong> rumours – which even led<br />
to <strong>the</strong> burn<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> dolls – caused a radical decl<strong>in</strong>e <strong>in</strong> viewers. All enquiries about <strong>the</strong><br />
orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rumours were unsuccessful.<br />
Zires’ <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>in</strong> three schools shows <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> acquisition <strong>of</strong><br />
visual narratives. The three groups connected <strong>the</strong> rumour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> kill<strong>in</strong>g Smurfs with<br />
three different stories, one with tales about devils and demons, one with threaten<strong>in</strong>g<br />
visions <strong>of</strong> a world controlled by technology, and one with Maya traditions and o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
TV stories. Zires concluded <strong>the</strong>refore that <strong>the</strong> elements <strong>of</strong> convergence do not have<br />
<strong>the</strong> same mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> all cultural contexts. The variations show ‘how local legends,<br />
written and audiovisual texts design <strong>the</strong> folkloristic religious knowledge <strong>in</strong> a country<br />
such as Mexico’ (Zires 1997: 358).<br />
Based on García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i’s concept <strong>of</strong> hybridity, Zires challenges <strong>the</strong> homogeneous<br />
character <strong>of</strong> culture, because cultures do not have a permanent identity. ‘Cultures<br />
cannot be understood … as closed, delimited systems <strong>of</strong> well-def<strong>in</strong>ed borders and<br />
free centres’ (Zires 1997: 47). Cultures do not have a centralized but a decentralized<br />
structure <strong>of</strong> organization whose l<strong>in</strong>kages constantly adapt to <strong>the</strong> circumstances.<br />
Elements appear, disappear, repeat or s<strong>in</strong>k <strong>in</strong>to a latent condition without ever<br />
develop<strong>in</strong>g an unchangeable core or permanent characteristics. Zires def<strong>in</strong>es cultures<br />
as networks <strong>of</strong> complex cultural designs with different degrees <strong>of</strong> coherence and
108<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
systematization; consequently, <strong>the</strong>y will process factors <strong>of</strong> cultural divergence and<br />
convergence very differently, as <strong>the</strong> example <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> three primary school groups<br />
demonstrates. 17 While García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i rejects <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> a homogeneous core <strong>of</strong><br />
culture, Zires emphasizes a decentralized structure created by merg<strong>in</strong>g complex social<br />
forms such as rituals, technologies and <strong>in</strong>stitutions <strong>of</strong> various k<strong>in</strong>ds. She <strong>in</strong>cludes<br />
her work <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>in</strong> neo-structuralism, which focuses more on structurality than on<br />
structure or an ongo<strong>in</strong>g cultural centre (Zires 1997: 47–8).<br />
Her study is a successful example <strong>of</strong> new communication studies and demonstrates<br />
a possible adaptation <strong>of</strong> Garía Cancl<strong>in</strong>i’s hybridity. None<strong>the</strong>less, it also shows <strong>the</strong><br />
weakness <strong>of</strong> communication studies that <strong>in</strong>vestigate genres <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> creative<br />
<strong>in</strong>dividuals. Though Zires acknowledges <strong>the</strong> ‘voice <strong>in</strong> action’ <strong>in</strong> her <strong>the</strong>oretical chapter<br />
about <strong>the</strong> oral dimension, she rarely refers directly to <strong>the</strong> children and <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>in</strong>dividual<br />
associations with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> three case studies. The po<strong>in</strong>ts <strong>of</strong> cultural convergence are more<br />
important for <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation than are <strong>the</strong> stories <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> children. It lacks someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
that I call <strong>the</strong> ‘ethnographic view’, <strong>the</strong> preservation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual voice.<br />
Carlos Monsiváis also ignores <strong>the</strong> act<strong>in</strong>g subject that is always represented <strong>in</strong><br />
literary genres but rarely as a speak<strong>in</strong>g person. Monsiváis studies Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
fiction and <strong>in</strong>vestigates, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> impact <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> new communication media<br />
on literature. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1970s he has worked on <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> global<br />
circulation <strong>of</strong> electronic media on new forms <strong>of</strong> cultural heterogeneity; meanwhile his<br />
studies have <strong>in</strong>fluenced Lat<strong>in</strong> American communication studies. From <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g<br />
he focused on <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> identity dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> confrontation <strong>of</strong> popular and<br />
mass media <strong>in</strong> urban Mexico (see R<strong>in</strong>cón 1994: 14–19). Monsiváis wants to get new<br />
<strong>in</strong>sights <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> adaptation <strong>of</strong> a different (alternative) method from <strong>the</strong> perspective<br />
<strong>of</strong> ord<strong>in</strong>ary culture and <strong>the</strong> popular (see Borsò 1994: 288). Referr<strong>in</strong>g to his book<br />
Entrada libre, Vittoria Borsò argues that ord<strong>in</strong>ary or everyday culture is not def<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
as a chronological presence <strong>in</strong> opposition to <strong>the</strong> past and <strong>the</strong> future; it even contradicts<br />
<strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> past as historical paradigm. Sacralized myths, such as <strong>the</strong> myth <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Indigenous by <strong>the</strong> Mexican Revolution, are de-construed by <strong>the</strong><br />
power <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> everyday. Hence, Monsiváis looks <strong>in</strong>stead at <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>ear time axis <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
space between crises, <strong>the</strong> symptoms <strong>of</strong> which he describes as apocalyptic visions<br />
about Mexico <strong>City</strong>. The presence becomes a fragment <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> latent past.<br />
In his article about Lat<strong>in</strong> American culture and cultural <strong>in</strong>dustry Monsiváis asks<br />
for <strong>the</strong> location <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> popular <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American republics. Between <strong>the</strong> 1940s<br />
and 1960s every element <strong>of</strong> popular culture, such as films, magaz<strong>in</strong>es, comics and<br />
radio novels, was pushed out <strong>of</strong> view. The governments accepted only <strong>the</strong> rural<br />
<strong>in</strong>digenous cultura popular and ignored mass culture (Monsiváis 1995: 193). Even <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> 1950s Lat<strong>in</strong> American literature ignored <strong>the</strong> manifestations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural <strong>in</strong>dustry<br />
and regarded <strong>the</strong> wider population from <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> middle class. Only<br />
later was it acknowledged that even <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> first half <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
cultural phenomenon <strong>in</strong>fluenced life <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America: <strong>the</strong> c<strong>in</strong>ema, which selects and<br />
17 The term ‘network’ is <strong>the</strong> translation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> term Zires uses <strong>in</strong> her book published <strong>in</strong><br />
German based on her Ph.D. <strong>the</strong>sis. In an earlier article published <strong>in</strong> Spanish she uses <strong>the</strong> term<br />
tejido, which can be translated as canvas or textile: <strong>in</strong> my op<strong>in</strong>ion a much better term for <strong>the</strong><br />
cultural structure she is describ<strong>in</strong>g. See Zires 1994: 81–92.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 109<br />
destroys traditions, <strong>in</strong>troduces codes <strong>of</strong> behaviour and reduces technology to formulas<br />
appear<strong>in</strong>g ‘simultaneously sacred and pr<strong>of</strong>ane’ to people (Monsiváis 1995: 193). As<br />
a reaction to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>in</strong> visual stories literature discarded melodrama from its<br />
repertoire because melodrama was be<strong>in</strong>g transferred more and more to <strong>the</strong> c<strong>in</strong>ema and<br />
later to telenovelas. Instead <strong>of</strong> focus<strong>in</strong>g on its own qualities urban culture cont<strong>in</strong>ued to<br />
withdraw until <strong>the</strong> 1960s when through <strong>the</strong> spread <strong>of</strong> rock music a new sector <strong>of</strong> youth<br />
culture began. It conta<strong>in</strong>ed a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> counter-culture with sexual freedom, <strong>the</strong> rejection<br />
<strong>of</strong> machismo and traditional familial patterns (Monsiváis 1995: 199–200). In spite <strong>of</strong><br />
its anti-imperialist notion it <strong>in</strong>cluded many North American elements; people even<br />
ignored <strong>the</strong> fact that rock music was also a colonial <strong>in</strong>fluence.<br />
S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1950s <strong>the</strong> c<strong>in</strong>ema has developed an <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly strong <strong>in</strong>fluence on<br />
literature. Monsiváis describes how Hollywood became a universal utopia: every<br />
village became connected to <strong>the</strong> world through films. The c<strong>in</strong>ema was part <strong>of</strong> an<br />
operation to produce a collective imag<strong>in</strong>ation: ‘this is how <strong>the</strong> poor speak; this is<br />
how <strong>the</strong> people articulate, move and behave’ (Monsiváis 1995: 202). Every film<br />
created such a formative canon <strong>of</strong> gestures and sounds that Monsiváis asks what<br />
<strong>the</strong> difference between <strong>the</strong> way someone lives and <strong>the</strong> way someone is presented<br />
might be. He mentions that <strong>in</strong> 1912 <strong>the</strong> audience had to be assured that view<strong>in</strong>g films<br />
caused no physical damage. In <strong>the</strong> 1930s and 1940s actors play<strong>in</strong>g evil characters<br />
had to hide <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> costumes <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> good characters on <strong>the</strong> streets. By <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> 1940s public life would come to a standstill dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> broadcast<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> popular<br />
radio novels. In 1969 <strong>the</strong> record<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a wedd<strong>in</strong>g created disturbances <strong>in</strong> Lima. In<br />
<strong>the</strong> 1970s children and women glorified (all accord<strong>in</strong>g to Monsiváis) actors, not as<br />
persons but as artificial figures <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> popular telenovelas. In 1984 a telenovela even<br />
reactivated an <strong>in</strong>terest <strong>in</strong> witchcraft <strong>in</strong> Mexico. In Brazil, Venezuela and Mexico<br />
several telenovelas had to be extended because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pressure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> audience.<br />
While literature <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> c<strong>in</strong>ema only marg<strong>in</strong>ally, films have shaped narrative<br />
style s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1930s: novelists have <strong>in</strong>corporated techniques such as cut, close-up,<br />
zoom and <strong>the</strong> ‘American attitude’ <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> producers (Monsiváis 1995: 203).<br />
Consequently, <strong>the</strong> ‘dictatorship <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> high culture’ (Monsiváis 1995: 203) came<br />
to an end <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1970s and commercial success was substituted for prestige. The cult<br />
<strong>of</strong> mass society is only a fashion accord<strong>in</strong>g to Monsiváis and will decl<strong>in</strong>e as o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
fashions, too. None<strong>the</strong>less, some books and figures were <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> collective<br />
narrative and determ<strong>in</strong>e today what k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> music, for <strong>in</strong>stance, can pass for typical<br />
‘Mexican’, ‘Cuban’ or ‘Puerto Rican’.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> 1980s Lat<strong>in</strong> America experienced a homogeneous process that Monsiváis<br />
describes with <strong>the</strong>se characteristics: historical disasters such as coups d’état and<br />
military <strong>in</strong>vasions, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> some novelists with<strong>in</strong> popular culture (such<br />
as Neruda and Borges), TV developments (such as a similar k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> humour,<br />
telenovelas, imported series, cable TV, videoclips), <strong>the</strong> connection between <strong>the</strong> culture<br />
<strong>in</strong>dustry and lifestyle, <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> melodrama, and <strong>the</strong> fusion <strong>of</strong> two new<br />
realities: <strong>the</strong> large urbes (urban areas) and <strong>the</strong> technologies (Monsiváis 1995: 207).<br />
These characteristics demonstrate that even Monsiváis – despite his postmodern<br />
approach – creates a homogeneous unity <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Based on Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
literature he describes Lat<strong>in</strong> American societies as be<strong>in</strong>g on one pathway. He ignores<br />
<strong>the</strong> usual regional approach <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r studies <strong>of</strong> heterogeneity because Lat<strong>in</strong> American
110<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
literature resembles a unity for him. None<strong>the</strong>less, his <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultura de<br />
masa, <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> wider population, rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g. He argues, for <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
that despite resistance it is common knowledge that everybody experiences popular<br />
culture as ‘<strong>the</strong> perfect mixture <strong>of</strong> reality and <strong>in</strong>dustry’ (Monsiváis 1995: 208). His<br />
love for literature does not prevent him approach<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> lived culture with <strong>the</strong> same<br />
‘playful and creative potential’ that characterizes his work (see Borsò 1994: 291).<br />
The presentation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> work <strong>of</strong> Monsiváis demonstrates <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
new communication media on cultural concepts. Though a transfer to o<strong>the</strong>r areas is<br />
difficult because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> great specialization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> studies, it is never<strong>the</strong>less<br />
noticeable that <strong>the</strong> concepts <strong>of</strong> cultural heterogeneity, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> variation <strong>of</strong><br />
Zires, carry important impulses for <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> cultural systems. A problem rema<strong>in</strong>s<br />
that <strong>the</strong>se studies limit <strong>the</strong>ir perspective to a small section <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> culture; hence, any<br />
conclusion about <strong>the</strong> culture is speculative. An <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious<br />
communities based only on <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> music leaves several questions unanswered.<br />
The limitation on communication media is <strong>the</strong>refore deficient for a conclusive picture<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> culture. Heterogeneity studies also ignore – probably because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong><br />
literature studies – <strong>the</strong> active subjects, ei<strong>the</strong>r as liv<strong>in</strong>g persons or as literary <strong>in</strong>ventions.<br />
The <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> genres prevails over <strong>the</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> creative <strong>in</strong>dividuals.<br />
Second Scene: An Exorcism Service<br />
The <strong>in</strong>troduction to <strong>the</strong> next section, which will ma<strong>in</strong>ly discuss cultural concepts<br />
developed <strong>in</strong> Brazil, conta<strong>in</strong>s a description <strong>of</strong> a service <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal,<br />
<strong>the</strong> Spanish sp<strong>in</strong>-<strong>of</strong>f <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian Igreja Universal <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn. The church<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brooklyn is located <strong>in</strong> a former <strong>the</strong>atre and conta<strong>in</strong>s <strong>the</strong>refore a stage, a large<br />
auditorium and a gallery (not yet used). In <strong>the</strong> rooms beh<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong> stage are <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fices<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community. The build<strong>in</strong>g is open throughout <strong>the</strong> day; <strong>the</strong>re are three services<br />
every weekday and two ma<strong>in</strong> services on Sundays. Each weekday addresses different<br />
problems and <strong>the</strong>mes: <strong>the</strong> services on Monday are for f<strong>in</strong>ancial problems, Tuesday<br />
services are for <strong>the</strong> Holy Spirit, Wednesday for <strong>the</strong> Bible, Thursdays for <strong>the</strong> family<br />
and dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Friday services <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> believers will be purified from any<br />
evil <strong>in</strong>fluences, which <strong>in</strong> most cases means <strong>the</strong> exorcism <strong>of</strong> demons.<br />
When I arrived at around 9.20 a.m. some people were already <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> church. Some<br />
knelt <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lectern, some spoke with each o<strong>the</strong>r or with one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> assistants<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church. Pastor José was sitt<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> stage, available for private consultation.<br />
Around 9.45 ano<strong>the</strong>r pastor, <strong>the</strong> young Pastor Miguel, also sat down on a chair on <strong>the</strong><br />
stage, also <strong>in</strong>dicat<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>fer <strong>of</strong> consultation. Both pastors wore suits with a white<br />
shirt and tie, <strong>in</strong>dicat<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir sense <strong>of</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> upper middle class.<br />
At 10 a.m., shortly before <strong>the</strong> service, both men left <strong>the</strong> stage. Pastor José<br />
welcomed <strong>the</strong> people <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church, <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>g everyone a handshake and<br />
exchang<strong>in</strong>g words with some. Approximately 100 people were <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> church hall<br />
by <strong>the</strong>n. As soon as Pastor Miguel started play<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> harmonica <strong>the</strong> leader <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
congregation, Pastor Oliveira, entered <strong>the</strong> stage s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g. The melody rem<strong>in</strong>ded me<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> melody <strong>of</strong> a popular Brazilian telenovela, only with Christian lyrics. Everyone<br />
rose from <strong>the</strong>ir seats – <strong>the</strong> service began. For one hour we listened to <strong>the</strong> addresses,<br />
announcements and <strong>the</strong> sermon <strong>of</strong> Pastor Oliveira, who cont<strong>in</strong>uously <strong>in</strong>terrupted
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 111<br />
his speeches with stirr<strong>in</strong>g songs. His Brazilian accent did not bo<strong>the</strong>r his admirers<br />
who listened to him with enthusiasm. Two women came forward to <strong>the</strong> stage and<br />
spoke about <strong>the</strong>ir heal<strong>in</strong>g. One gave as pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> her heal<strong>in</strong>g a plastic bag with all her<br />
medication that she would no longer need.<br />
At 11 a.m. <strong>the</strong> exorcism started (which attracted more people than to ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
weekday service). First, <strong>the</strong> soul had to be purified with a powerful prayer for which<br />
everyone was <strong>in</strong>vited to come forward to <strong>the</strong> space between <strong>the</strong> stage and <strong>the</strong> first<br />
seats. Any reluctant participant such as myself, who rema<strong>in</strong>ed seated, was asked by a<br />
church assistant to jo<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> group at <strong>the</strong> front. The pastor spoke louder and louder. His<br />
voice banged through <strong>the</strong> sound system and urged <strong>the</strong> demons to appear. The believers<br />
were asked to close <strong>the</strong>ir eyes, lay <strong>the</strong>ir hands on <strong>the</strong>ir heart and open up to <strong>the</strong> voice.<br />
The o<strong>the</strong>r two pastors and two assistants went slowly between <strong>the</strong> participants. As<br />
soon as <strong>the</strong>y saw one person quiver<strong>in</strong>g one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m began <strong>the</strong> exorcism with adjuratory<br />
words and bless<strong>in</strong>gs: one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pastors or assistants laid a hand on <strong>the</strong> forehead <strong>of</strong><br />
this person and called him or her (<strong>in</strong> Spanish) to open up and free him- or herself<br />
from <strong>the</strong> demons. ‘Demon, leave this body! Demon, vanish! Demon, let this person<br />
alone!’ Meanwhile Pastor Oliveira (sometimes relieved by Pastor Marcos, who was<br />
older but hierarchically subord<strong>in</strong>ate to Pastor Oliveira) shouted louder and louder,<br />
<strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly push<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> audience. The whole atmosphere started to become tense,<br />
even frighten<strong>in</strong>g. I moved to <strong>the</strong> edge <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> crowd. Then, f<strong>in</strong>ally, peace and quiet<br />
came back. For a f<strong>in</strong>al liberation and bless<strong>in</strong>g everyone was <strong>in</strong>vited to walk under<br />
a large pole that was carried by two pastors. Afterwards everyone returned to <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
seats, and <strong>the</strong> service cont<strong>in</strong>ued. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> next song <strong>the</strong> two m<strong>in</strong>or pastors and <strong>the</strong><br />
two assistants handed out small red kerchiefs to everyone. Then, <strong>in</strong> reference to <strong>the</strong><br />
crucifixion story, Pastor Oliveira <strong>in</strong>vited everyone to put <strong>the</strong>ir piece <strong>of</strong> red cloth <strong>in</strong>to a<br />
bowl <strong>of</strong> v<strong>in</strong>egar stand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lectern. After one week everyone would return<br />
and take one piece out, which <strong>the</strong>n would have ga<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> power <strong>of</strong> heal<strong>in</strong>g. Everyone<br />
was also <strong>in</strong>structed to take an empty envelope and return it with US$30.00 <strong>in</strong> one<br />
week. One by one <strong>the</strong> people went to <strong>the</strong> front and put <strong>the</strong>ir kerchief <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> bowl.<br />
Afterwards came several calls for donations – for a Bible for cancer patients – and<br />
for different amounts <strong>of</strong> money (first US$20, <strong>the</strong>n US$10, US$5, US$4 and f<strong>in</strong>ally<br />
US$1), which were, at <strong>the</strong> end, followed by a last song and a prayer. The time was<br />
now around 12 p.m. and most people left <strong>the</strong> build<strong>in</strong>g. Some used <strong>the</strong> opportunity for<br />
a private consultation or a private bless<strong>in</strong>g by one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pastors. Around 1 p.m. <strong>the</strong><br />
church was empty aga<strong>in</strong> with <strong>the</strong> exception <strong>of</strong> Pastor Miguel who, as <strong>the</strong> youngest<br />
pastor, had <strong>the</strong> duty <strong>of</strong> be<strong>in</strong>g available for consultations for <strong>the</strong> whole day.<br />
The Iglesia Universal has, as I have already described, a hierarchical and<br />
<strong>in</strong>stitutionalized structure; none<strong>the</strong>less elements from o<strong>the</strong>r religions such as<br />
<strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e entities became part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious repertoire,<br />
only re<strong>in</strong>terpreted: deities became demons. With this shift <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal<br />
impressively demonstrates its complexity and ability to adapt to new environments.
112<br />
Brazilian Cultural Concepts<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
In <strong>the</strong> debate about Lat<strong>in</strong> American postmodernism Brazil plays a special role. One<br />
reason is that modernismo and posmodernismo were co<strong>in</strong>ed nearly simultaneously to<br />
<strong>the</strong> English terms. Modernismo refers to a special style with<strong>in</strong> Brazilian prose (as <strong>in</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>r Lat<strong>in</strong> American countries) as well as to an <strong>in</strong>ternational style or movement (as <strong>in</strong><br />
Europe and North America). The o<strong>the</strong>r reason is that Brazil has not (yet) developed a<br />
debate about multiculturalism. Ellen Spielmann expla<strong>in</strong>s this lack with <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant<br />
image that Brazil has already practised multiculturalism for 400 years and demonstrates<br />
<strong>in</strong> everyday life a high degree <strong>of</strong> multiculturalism, which makes <strong>the</strong> demonstration<br />
<strong>of</strong> difference unproblematic (1994a: 14–16). Only <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last years have Brazilians<br />
started to realize that <strong>the</strong>ir k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> multiculturalism has no <strong>in</strong>fluence on racism because<br />
both work on different levels. Andreas H<strong>of</strong>bauer, for <strong>in</strong>stance, po<strong>in</strong>ts out that only <strong>in</strong><br />
1989 did Brazil f<strong>in</strong>ally pass a law to persecute racist actions (2000).<br />
Brasilidade and tropicália<br />
The start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> debate about cultural <strong>the</strong>ories <strong>in</strong> Brazil is <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong><br />
brasilidade, which was illustrated, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>in</strong> Casa grande e senzela by Gilberto<br />
Freyre (<strong>in</strong> English The Masters and <strong>the</strong> Slaves, 1946). Freyre’s ethnographic description<br />
<strong>of</strong> Brazilian society from 1933 was celebrated as <strong>the</strong> discovery <strong>of</strong> brasilidade par<br />
excellence, <strong>in</strong> particular because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> way he celebrated <strong>the</strong> multicultural society<br />
<strong>in</strong> which everyone lived toge<strong>the</strong>r and created a culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> tropical tradition (see<br />
Spielmann 1994a: 12). In his book Freyre describes <strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> Brazilian society<br />
with its Indigenous, African and Portuguese roots. His positive <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
racial mixture radically challenged <strong>the</strong> ‘racial pessimism’ <strong>of</strong> his contemporaries and<br />
<strong>of</strong>fered <strong>the</strong> educated elite a new image <strong>of</strong> Brazilian society with which it was able<br />
to identify (Fleischmann 1985: 67–8). He looked <strong>in</strong> particular at <strong>the</strong> colonial epoch<br />
and slavery, which he characterized with <strong>the</strong> bipolar opposition <strong>of</strong> master house<br />
and slave hut. Despite <strong>the</strong> large social distance between masters and slaves Freyre<br />
positively <strong>in</strong>terpreted that Portuguese people were used to liv<strong>in</strong>g under <strong>the</strong> rule <strong>of</strong><br />
Moorish people, whom he portrayed as relatively dark but <strong>in</strong> many aspects superior<br />
to <strong>the</strong> Whites. Because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir past experience Portuguese settlers <strong>in</strong> Brazil took <strong>the</strong><br />
position (accord<strong>in</strong>g to Freyre) that ‘even’ coloured people were human be<strong>in</strong>gs, even<br />
bro<strong>the</strong>rs, with whom it was possible to develop family ties. Influenced by <strong>the</strong> cultural<br />
relativism <strong>of</strong> Franz Boas, his pr<strong>of</strong>essor at Columbia University <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, Freyre<br />
traced <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> Brazilian multiculturalism back to <strong>the</strong> racially mixed roots <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Portuguese colonists (1990: 21–8). However, despite Freyre’s emphasis that <strong>the</strong> ‘black<br />
race/culture’ had a positive impact on <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> Brazil, H<strong>of</strong>bauer criticizes<br />
Freyre’s work as a remake <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> branqueamento-idea that until <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
twentieth century rema<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> hegemonic ideology <strong>in</strong> Brazil (2000: 47). 18 In particular<br />
18 The term branqueamento derives from <strong>the</strong> verb branquear, mean<strong>in</strong>g ‘to become white’.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 113<br />
<strong>the</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> culture and society with biology is today <strong>in</strong>comprehensible but had<br />
dom<strong>in</strong>ated <strong>the</strong> Brazilian debate for a long time. 19<br />
In his book Freyre <strong>in</strong>vestigates <strong>the</strong> rural colonial society that he describes from<br />
<strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> master house (1990: 53, 441). As he expla<strong>in</strong>s, <strong>the</strong> master<br />
house was only complete with <strong>the</strong> slave hut because only toge<strong>the</strong>r did <strong>the</strong>y create<br />
an economic, social and political unity. Freyre characterizes this ‘syndicate based<br />
on agriculture and slavery’ as an <strong>in</strong>tegrative system <strong>of</strong> production and work (a<br />
latifundium mono-culture based on slavery), a transportation system (ox cart and<br />
palanqu<strong>in</strong>), a religious system (familial Catholicism with a chapla<strong>in</strong>), a sexual<br />
and familial system (polygamous patriarchate), a system <strong>of</strong> body and household<br />
sanitation and a political system (compadrismo). In his idealized perspective Freyre<br />
describes <strong>the</strong> master house as a fortress, bank, cemetery, hospital, school, hospice<br />
and even welfare <strong>in</strong>stitution for <strong>the</strong> elderly, widows and orphans.<br />
His symbolic dichotomy <strong>of</strong> colonial society – <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> his various reactionary<br />
conservative parts – is outdated nowadays. Already <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1940s parameters <strong>of</strong> a new<br />
cultural critique were develop<strong>in</strong>g which exposed Brazilian culture as an ideological<br />
construct and emphasized <strong>the</strong> social realities. 20 Freyre, who later became m<strong>in</strong>ister for<br />
education under <strong>the</strong> authoritarian president Getúlio Vargas, is particularly accused<br />
today <strong>of</strong> hav<strong>in</strong>g supplied <strong>the</strong> ideological basis for <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> authoritarian<br />
schemas <strong>of</strong> development and <strong>in</strong>tegration with his harmonious syn<strong>the</strong>sis <strong>of</strong> races,<br />
classes and cultures (Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er 1994: 162). Hence, people hold Freyre responsible<br />
for <strong>the</strong> perpetual neglect <strong>of</strong> ethnic-social studies and <strong>the</strong> tendency for homogeneous<br />
th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. They refer, for <strong>in</strong>stance, to his positive characterization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian<br />
civilização luso-tropical and its capacity for reconciliation (Freyre 1980: 82). Until <strong>the</strong><br />
end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1970s Freyre ignored <strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> racial conflict and even criticized <strong>the</strong><br />
development <strong>of</strong> a Black movement <strong>in</strong> Brazil (H<strong>of</strong>bauer 2000: 58, fn. 24). However,<br />
despite his <strong>of</strong>ten uncritical idealization <strong>of</strong> Brazilian society (one exception would<br />
be his quite critical book Nordeste) his work has received more and more attention<br />
<strong>in</strong> recent years as an example <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> presentation <strong>of</strong> ethnic and cultural pluralism.<br />
Spielmann, for <strong>in</strong>stance, quotes <strong>the</strong> words <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian educator Anísio Texeira<br />
about Freyre: ‘The importance <strong>of</strong> Gilberto Freyre is that we all became through his<br />
work more Brazilian’ (quoted <strong>in</strong> Spielmann 1994a: 13, my translation). Even his critic<br />
Darcy Ribeiro describes Freyre ‘as white shaman, as miracle <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> adaptation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> a k<strong>in</strong>d that usually happens only dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> trance <strong>of</strong> a medium, as an excellent<br />
writer-anthropologist <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>carnation <strong>of</strong> various roles with an addiction to operetta<br />
style ethic and aes<strong>the</strong>tic’ (Spielmann 1994a: 13, my translation). 21 Freyre became an<br />
19 See Roberto da Matta, Relativizando: uma <strong>in</strong>trodução à antropologia social<br />
(Petrópolis, 1981), quoted <strong>in</strong> Jahn 1994: 78.<br />
20 See Carlos Guilherme Mota, ‘A cultura brasileira como problema histórica’, <strong>in</strong> Revista<br />
da USP (1986): 8–39, quoted <strong>in</strong> Jahn 1994: 29.<br />
21 The words do not belong to a verbatim quotation, and Spielmann fails to state her<br />
sources. Hence see Ribeiro 1980: 95–154 for an evaluation <strong>of</strong> Freyre’s work by Ribeiro<br />
(orig<strong>in</strong>ally published as <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>troduction to Casa grande e senzela <strong>in</strong> an edition from Biblioteca<br />
Ayacucho, Caracas).
114<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
anti-hero who is still present today; many anthropologists such as Darcy Ribeiro and<br />
Roberto da Matta like to position <strong>the</strong>mselves <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> academy by oppos<strong>in</strong>g Freyre.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, his image <strong>of</strong> a (apparently homogeneous) ‘Brazilian culture’<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluenced (and still <strong>in</strong>fluences) people outside <strong>the</strong> academy. By <strong>in</strong>terpret<strong>in</strong>g<br />
‘Brazilian culture’ he created its essence, though it never existed <strong>in</strong> reality. 22 In <strong>the</strong><br />
1930s to 1950s brasilidade, so perfectly performed by Freyre, became a magical<br />
quality which <strong>in</strong>spired language, music, poetry, dance, narrative style, rhythm and so<br />
on (Spielmann 1994a: 9–10) and is still present despite changes. Even <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> service<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brooklyn one can feel a touch <strong>of</strong> brasilidade when music, drama and evocation<br />
create a very special atmosphere that leads <strong>the</strong> participants <strong>in</strong> any direction. In<br />
this moment social and ethnic borders cease to exist; everyone is equal, which is<br />
<strong>in</strong>dicated even by physical touch.<br />
At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1960s ‘Brazilian culture’ returned <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> form <strong>of</strong> a ‘tropical<br />
discourse’ <strong>in</strong> Brazilian literature – as a paradigm <strong>of</strong> a new cultural landscape. Dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> period after <strong>the</strong> military coup <strong>in</strong> 1964, <strong>in</strong> particular between 1968 and 1974 when<br />
people became more and more sceptical about progress, <strong>the</strong> ideology <strong>of</strong> Brazilian<br />
culture was revitalized by <strong>the</strong> rul<strong>in</strong>g powers with help from <strong>the</strong> media. Characteristic<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> tropicália, which was understood as export culture, was, for example, <strong>the</strong><br />
unexpected success <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Bahianos <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural centres <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> South <strong>of</strong> Brazil,<br />
whose typical music style from Bahia (<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> North) <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong> popular music<br />
<strong>of</strong> Brazil. This movement <strong>of</strong> a cultural style <strong>of</strong> expression from <strong>the</strong> periphery to <strong>the</strong><br />
centre, from Bahia to São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro, changed <strong>the</strong> cultural concept <strong>of</strong><br />
Brazil. The cultural critique rigorously rejected <strong>the</strong> tropicália, whose climax came<br />
between 1967 and 1972, and cont<strong>in</strong>ued to limit <strong>the</strong> def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> ‘culture’ to literary<br />
production. However, <strong>the</strong> tropicália <strong>in</strong>cluded apart from literature new forms <strong>of</strong><br />
cultural production such as film, performance, <strong>in</strong>stallations and staged rituals.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> frame <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> tropical discourse concrete, sensual descriptions about <strong>the</strong> ‘here’ and<br />
‘now’ produce a diagnosis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> presence, a contemporary response to <strong>the</strong> urban explosion<br />
<strong>of</strong> modernism that massively began with <strong>the</strong> ‘estado militar’ <strong>in</strong> 1964. (Spielmann 1994b:<br />
146, my translation)<br />
The mass culture <strong>in</strong>fluenced by <strong>the</strong> tropicália developed <strong>in</strong>to a counter-culture<br />
whose practices rema<strong>in</strong>ed locally and regionally connected despite its fasc<strong>in</strong>ation<br />
for modern technologies. Hence it presented popular knowledge and behaviour<br />
(Spielmann 1994b: 147). But <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> represent<strong>in</strong>g an autonomous, au<strong>the</strong>ntic<br />
style (as brasilidade did before) elements from o<strong>the</strong>r contexts were recycled and<br />
playfully used. Tropicália is <strong>the</strong>refore an important part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> postcolonial discourse<br />
<strong>of</strong> Brazil. It is anti-authoritarian, anti-hierarchical and anti-patriarchal. Tropicália<br />
is not <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> ‘defend<strong>in</strong>g or <strong>in</strong>vent<strong>in</strong>g a genealogy or <strong>the</strong> nation’ or <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
‘problem <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> connection between tradition and modernity’; <strong>the</strong> central aim is<br />
<strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> multiple identities without <strong>the</strong> political logic <strong>of</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g as ‘national’<br />
history (Spielmann 1994b: 152–3). Tropicália is <strong>the</strong>refore opposed to Freyre’s idea<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> harmonious liv<strong>in</strong>g toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>of</strong> all Brazilians; it thwarts and muddles all models<br />
22 See Carlos Guilherme Mota, ‘A cultura brasileira como problema histórica’, <strong>in</strong> Revista<br />
da USP (1986): 8–39, quoted <strong>in</strong> Jahn 1994: 28.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 115<br />
<strong>of</strong> constru<strong>in</strong>g cultural paradigms. Look<strong>in</strong>g at it today, tropicália already represents a<br />
first sign <strong>of</strong> a dist<strong>in</strong>ctive k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> postmodernism, equivalent to <strong>the</strong> one developed <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> metropolis (Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er 1994: 172).<br />
In this context urban centres such as Rio de Janeiro and o<strong>the</strong>r Lat<strong>in</strong> America<br />
cities demonstrate <strong>the</strong> particularity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American situation because a city<br />
can represent a ‘First World’ metropolis but also a ‘Third World’ one. Studies <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>se cities are <strong>the</strong>refore not committed to a progressive schema that is frozen <strong>in</strong> time<br />
and epochs, but ra<strong>the</strong>r emphasize <strong>the</strong> cultural and social context (Spielmann 1994a:<br />
114–15). One characteristic was that, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> wake <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g urbanization s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong><br />
1920s, various literary products were written about cities, which presented a quite<br />
positive image <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> metropolis. Only <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1950s, when Carlos Fuentes published<br />
his book La region más transparente, <strong>the</strong> last great urban novel about Mexico,<br />
came <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> great urban narratives (Monsiváis 1992: 36–45). Spielmann<br />
expla<strong>in</strong>s this tw<strong>of</strong>old development: novelists recognized <strong>the</strong> limits <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir ability to<br />
represent a city as such through literature, and <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1950s <strong>the</strong> city lost its function<br />
as a ‘cross<strong>in</strong>g and meet<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong> social-cultural relations and transactions’ (1994a:<br />
112, my translation). Though more novels, short stories and chronicles about cities<br />
such as Mexico <strong>City</strong>, Buenos Aires and São Paulo were published, <strong>the</strong> city with its<br />
power to change, its paradoxes and its diversity became unrepresentative. Spielmann<br />
refers, for <strong>in</strong>stance, to Ignácio de Loyola Brandão’s novel about São Paulo <strong>in</strong> which<br />
<strong>the</strong> city is <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> perspective but <strong>the</strong> city is not represented as such.<br />
While da Matta divides <strong>the</strong> city <strong>in</strong>to social locations <strong>in</strong> order to analyse it, Loyola<br />
Brandão goes <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> opposite direction. His urban discourse is one among o<strong>the</strong>rs, it<br />
consists <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘fragmentation and layer<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> economical, political, historical, legal,<br />
sexual, and religious discourses’ that cannot be put toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> a unified urban history<br />
(Spielmann 1994a: 127). São Paulo represents par excellence <strong>the</strong> paradoxical situation<br />
<strong>of</strong> ‘peripheral modernities whose ma<strong>in</strong> characteristic is <strong>the</strong> clash <strong>of</strong> modernity and<br />
pre-modernity’ (Spielmann 1994a: 129). One recognizes here already that Brazilian<br />
self-representation relies on <strong>the</strong> ‘cliché <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> disorder’, accord<strong>in</strong>g to Mark Münzel,<br />
<strong>the</strong> characteristic <strong>of</strong> urban Brazil as seen <strong>in</strong> opposition to <strong>the</strong> (supposed) ‘harmonized<br />
order’ <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous Brazil. While <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous world is def<strong>in</strong>ed with <strong>the</strong><br />
‘mythos <strong>of</strong> an unopposed whole’, <strong>the</strong> urban Brazil emphasizes ‘<strong>the</strong> rejection <strong>of</strong><br />
concrete systems’ (Münzel 2000: 206).<br />
From today’s perspective <strong>the</strong> 1960s are regarded as a ‘remarkably lucky period’,<br />
despite <strong>the</strong> start <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Estado militar <strong>in</strong> 1964 with censorship, repression, controls<br />
and so on (Spielmann 1994b: 145). The liberal popularistic period directly before <strong>the</strong><br />
coup, <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong> new capital Brasília was built as a symbol <strong>of</strong> modern Brazil, saw<br />
<strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> cultural forms that <strong>the</strong>n provided sources to deal with <strong>the</strong> shock<br />
<strong>of</strong> modernization, and <strong>in</strong>cluded a critique aga<strong>in</strong>st Western culture and its logic <strong>of</strong><br />
progressive development. 23 This debate about modernity and <strong>the</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
multiple voices <strong>of</strong> Brazil, which started at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1960s, cont<strong>in</strong>ues today.<br />
23 Spielmann describes as an example <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>stallation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Museu de Arte Moderna by<br />
Hélio Oiticica <strong>in</strong> 1967 (1994b: 152).
116<br />
Pastiche as Postmodern Metaphor<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
In <strong>the</strong> 1980s <strong>the</strong> cultural <strong>the</strong>oretical debate <strong>in</strong> Brazil discussed three items: <strong>the</strong> critical<br />
formulation or revision <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dependence and cultural imperialism <strong>the</strong>sis; <strong>the</strong> new<br />
def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> cultura popular; and <strong>the</strong> debate about modernism and postmodernism<br />
com<strong>in</strong>g from Europe and North America (Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er 1994: 161–5, 172). The<br />
Brazilian debate was more concerned with <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>volvement <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>tellectuals <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
authoritarian state than <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r Lat<strong>in</strong> American countries. For a decade Brazil had<br />
experienced a cont<strong>in</strong>uous switch<strong>in</strong>g between voices glorify<strong>in</strong>g ‘Brazilian culture’ and<br />
critical th<strong>in</strong>kers struggl<strong>in</strong>g aga<strong>in</strong>st public attempts to control <strong>the</strong>m. In <strong>the</strong> 1980s <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> cultural anthropological concepts supported – accord<strong>in</strong>g to Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er<br />
– <strong>the</strong> break-up <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dualistic models <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1970s, such as traditional/<br />
modern, urban/rural, elite/mass culture. Instead <strong>of</strong> try<strong>in</strong>g to construct essentialontological<br />
def<strong>in</strong>itions <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultura brasileira <strong>the</strong> debate became more concerned<br />
with plurality and <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> symbolic structures, with <strong>the</strong> exchanges between<br />
elite, mass and popular culture, tradition and modernity. As a result <strong>of</strong> this development<br />
Brazilian contemporary culture ga<strong>in</strong>ed a positive recognition as be<strong>in</strong>g ‘plural, mas não<br />
caótico’, hav<strong>in</strong>g a playful-disrespectful handl<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> tradition, modernity and utopia.<br />
The 1980s represent a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>termediate period dur<strong>in</strong>g which <strong>the</strong> two debates<br />
about <strong>the</strong> cultura popular and <strong>the</strong> mass media that were divided dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> 1970s came<br />
toge<strong>the</strong>r. Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er mentions as an example carnival and Umbanda, one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
widest spread Afro-Brazilian religions. Until <strong>the</strong>n, both were put <strong>in</strong> opposition to mass<br />
culture because <strong>of</strong> be<strong>in</strong>g ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntic’ and creative. Because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>tegration<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se elements <strong>in</strong>to mass culture, people have realized that such a dichotomy is<br />
absurd. Th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> free structures replaces <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> static borders. Many<br />
authors refer today to <strong>the</strong> potential <strong>of</strong> postmodernism to create identity (Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er<br />
1994: 166–7, 175). In this context people experiment with new pathways, for <strong>in</strong>stance<br />
<strong>in</strong> metaphorical language, <strong>in</strong> order to describe Brazilian culture.<br />
Postmodernism <strong>of</strong>ten uses metaphorical terms to describe its models. The<br />
significance <strong>of</strong> metaphors depends on <strong>the</strong> context <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir orig<strong>in</strong> and on <strong>the</strong> way<br />
<strong>the</strong>y are used. A transfer <strong>of</strong> metaphors that are <strong>of</strong>ten construed <strong>in</strong> literature studies<br />
is only successful when <strong>the</strong> provenance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> metaphor is clear. 24 Most metaphors<br />
for postmodern cultural concepts were developed with reference to Brazilian novels.<br />
Sab<strong>in</strong>e H<strong>of</strong>mann describes <strong>the</strong>se k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> metaphors as ‘illustrations from <strong>the</strong> picture<br />
gallery <strong>of</strong> postmodern discourse’ that are used <strong>in</strong> literature studies to illustrate <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>f<strong>in</strong>ite<br />
24 Accord<strong>in</strong>g to James W. Fernandez anthropology saw an <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>of</strong> studies about<br />
metaphors <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1970s. Metaphors were not only used as literal explanations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>explicable with images but were also used <strong>in</strong> a social and cultural way (Fernandez 1995: 6).<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> metaphors <strong>in</strong>cludes some risks anthropologists have started to address<br />
<strong>in</strong> recent years. Naomi Qu<strong>in</strong>n, for <strong>in</strong>stance, declares that ‘metaphors, far from constitut<strong>in</strong>g<br />
understand<strong>in</strong>g, are ord<strong>in</strong>arily selected to fit a preexist<strong>in</strong>g and culturally shared model’<br />
(1995: 60). Most studies about metaphors reflect this problem when <strong>the</strong> authors refer to<br />
examples <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir mo<strong>the</strong>r tongue (ma<strong>in</strong>ly English) as examples. The metaphors I will present<br />
are different. In spite <strong>of</strong> expla<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g a foreign cognitive model <strong>in</strong> metaphorical language,<br />
metaphors are used to characterize different cultural concepts. See Pesmen 1995. For a<br />
critique <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘<strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> tropes’, see T. Turner 1995: 150–51.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 117<br />
dynamic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> transformation process. They are, as she cont<strong>in</strong>ues, ‘illustrations <strong>of</strong><br />
a-centric structures whose organizational patterns cannot be described with regard to<br />
one adm<strong>in</strong>istrative pr<strong>in</strong>ciple but as <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terl<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> various organizational regulations<br />
whose comb<strong>in</strong>ation creates always different, non-predictable phenomena’ (H<strong>of</strong>mann<br />
1994: 252, my translation). This quote already <strong>in</strong>dicates <strong>the</strong> central perspective that is<br />
visible <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> metaphors for cultural models: not mixtures but miscellaneous; <strong>the</strong><br />
focus is on cultural constructions <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> its elements.<br />
A key term <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> postmodern fictional literature <strong>of</strong> Brazil is <strong>the</strong> metaphor pastiche,<br />
derived from art history. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> seventeenth century <strong>the</strong> term pasticcio (Italian for<br />
pasty or jumble) has been used to characterize a picture or a sculpture imitat<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> style<br />
or motive <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r artists. While <strong>the</strong> term <strong>in</strong> f<strong>in</strong>e art implies deceit, it ga<strong>in</strong>ed – accord<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to Spielmann – a positive connotation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s as a characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> historical<br />
and geopolitical particularities <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Pastiche is <strong>the</strong> ‘f<strong>in</strong>e art <strong>of</strong> imitation’<br />
that ‘adopts’, ‘dispossesses’, ‘celebrates’ and ‘cannibalizes’ (Spielmann 1994a: 165–7).<br />
Pastiche does not reject <strong>the</strong> past or mock it but accepts and carries it; it describes a<br />
process that rewrites or retells familiar items anew (Spielmann 1994a: 165–7). Pastiche<br />
represents <strong>the</strong>refore ‘<strong>the</strong> literary counterpart <strong>of</strong> those rearticulatory practices that seek<br />
to assume alternative traditions with<strong>in</strong> modernity’ (Yúdice 1991: 109 with reference<br />
to Silviano Santiago). Santiago’s novel Em Liderdade (1981) is regarded as <strong>the</strong> first<br />
Brazilian postmodern novel <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong> author applies pastiche <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> just copy<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
The novel ‘re-re-tells’ a story <strong>of</strong> a classical Brazilian novel, Memórias do Cárcere by<br />
Graciliano Ramos (1953), as a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> postmodern sequel. Ramos’s novel conta<strong>in</strong>s <strong>the</strong><br />
diary <strong>of</strong> a fictional author dur<strong>in</strong>g a year <strong>in</strong> prison, between 1936 and 1937, though it<br />
is supposed to have been written <strong>in</strong> 1946. Santiago’s novel beg<strong>in</strong>s three months after<br />
<strong>the</strong> protagonist has been discharged from prison. In <strong>the</strong> foreword Santiago declares<br />
himself to be only <strong>the</strong> editor, who received <strong>the</strong> manuscript from an unknown person<br />
after rescu<strong>in</strong>g it from a fire. The text is a mixture <strong>of</strong> a diary and a historical novel,<br />
constru<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ‘fictionality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> “reality”’ (Spielmann 1994a: 167). It takes place<br />
<strong>in</strong> three different periods <strong>of</strong> history, <strong>in</strong> 1789, 1937 and 1973, connected through <strong>the</strong><br />
stories <strong>of</strong> three men, Graciliano Ramos, <strong>the</strong> novelist Cláudio Manuel da Costa, who<br />
was executed <strong>in</strong> 1789 dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> militant suppression <strong>of</strong> a rebellion, and <strong>the</strong> journalist<br />
Wladimir Herzog, who was tortured to death <strong>in</strong> 1973. Hence, all three characters are<br />
historically real persons. None<strong>the</strong>less, Santiago does not write a historical novel but<br />
discusses <strong>the</strong> context <strong>of</strong> history and representation, historical description and fiction<br />
(Spielmann 1994a: 167–70). With his novel Santiago aimed to challenge <strong>the</strong> ‘politics <strong>of</strong><br />
representation’ proclaimed by modernists <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1930s. He criticizes modernists on <strong>the</strong><br />
basis that <strong>the</strong>y only referred to <strong>the</strong> public discourse and <strong>the</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> heroes<br />
and <strong>the</strong> martyred while <strong>the</strong> private discourse, <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ord<strong>in</strong>ary and <strong>the</strong> non-heroic, was<br />
excluded. 25 Despite <strong>the</strong> (apparent) imitation <strong>of</strong> Ramos, Santiago’s novel represents an<br />
anti-movement, referr<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> experience <strong>of</strong> ‘alterity’, as Spielmann (among o<strong>the</strong>rs)<br />
<strong>in</strong>sists (1994: 171). Pastiche is <strong>the</strong>refore a particular form <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>ter-textuality, created<br />
from <strong>the</strong> past and <strong>the</strong> present, and produces difference.<br />
25 Santiago, Nas malhas da letra (São Paulo, Companhia das Letras, 1989): 116, quoted<br />
São Paulo, Companhia das Letras, 1989): 116, quoted<br />
<strong>in</strong> Spielmann 1994a: 170.
118<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Hence, <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> Brazilian literature has changed. At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> twentieth century, imitation, copy<strong>in</strong>g and repetition were regarded as abusive<br />
words <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> literary scene <strong>in</strong> Brazil, which only aimed to ma<strong>in</strong>ta<strong>in</strong> and present<br />
<strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>ality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> particularity <strong>of</strong> ‘Brazilian culture’. Freyre led <strong>the</strong> way to<br />
<strong>the</strong> neglect <strong>of</strong> ‘Brazilian culture’ as an ideological construct that does not exist<br />
ontologically. But <strong>the</strong> last twenty years <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century exposed identity,<br />
au<strong>the</strong>nticity and particularity as strategic concepts <strong>of</strong> postcolonialism, and <strong>in</strong>stead<br />
praised <strong>the</strong> f<strong>in</strong>e art <strong>of</strong> imitation (Spielmann 1994a: 165). Already <strong>the</strong> tropicália <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> 1960s and 1970s had played with <strong>the</strong> method <strong>of</strong> imitation (Spielmann 1994b:<br />
150) but <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s pastiche was at its climax. The novel Tereza Bautista cansada<br />
de guerra (1973) by Jorge Amado expla<strong>in</strong>s <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> pastiche through<br />
metaphorically compar<strong>in</strong>g pastiche to strategy. Amado plays with ano<strong>the</strong>r cultural<br />
genre, <strong>the</strong> literatura de cordel, which represents a special k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> ‘oral literature’<br />
that was present until <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1960s/beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1970s (and perhaps<br />
even today <strong>in</strong> some parts <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Nor<strong>the</strong>ast; Spielmann 1994a: 71). The literatura<br />
de cordel is based on oral compositions – at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g narrative songs, <strong>the</strong>n<br />
narrative poetry – that until <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>troduction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pr<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g press were circulated <strong>in</strong><br />
loose paper collections. Until <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> twentieth century <strong>the</strong> literatura de<br />
cordel was recited only at festivals and markets but even <strong>the</strong> written versions are still<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluenced by <strong>the</strong> oral narrative tradition. The literatura de cordel reflects <strong>the</strong>refore<br />
Walter Ong’s <strong>the</strong>sis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> particularity <strong>of</strong> oral tradition, <strong>in</strong>dependent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> presence<br />
or absence <strong>of</strong> scripture (1987: 172–3). There are two versions <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> literatura de<br />
cordel: <strong>the</strong> folhetos conta<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> merits or misdeeds <strong>of</strong> a typical character or social<br />
group or <strong>the</strong> stories <strong>of</strong> a region, and <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r type refers to <strong>the</strong> adventures <strong>of</strong> an<br />
<strong>in</strong>dividual, <strong>of</strong> historical or legendary nature (Spielmann 1994a: 71). Jorge Amado,<br />
who <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1930s already had a reputation as a well-known author, constructs his own<br />
genre by stylization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> folhetos. But it is more than pastiche <strong>of</strong> folhetos; Amada<br />
‘pastichizes’ <strong>the</strong> fundamental structures (such as discourse, rhetoric), characters and<br />
events <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> genres (see Spielmann 1994a: 77). He adapts <strong>the</strong> folheto concept to a<br />
discursive level, creat<strong>in</strong>g a new dimension <strong>of</strong> performance with his novel (Spielmann<br />
1994a: 78). Amado’s novel ironically tells <strong>the</strong> story <strong>of</strong> Tereza Batista, a popular<br />
figure who represents a ‘s<strong>in</strong>ner’ (a whore and a cabaret dancer) and a ‘sa<strong>in</strong>t’ (filha do<br />
santo, someone <strong>in</strong>itiated <strong>in</strong>to Candomblé). As <strong>in</strong> all <strong>of</strong> his novels, <strong>the</strong> context <strong>of</strong> this<br />
is also <strong>the</strong> sertão, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Nor<strong>the</strong>ast <strong>of</strong> Brazil. Amado is <strong>the</strong> voice <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> heterogeneous<br />
culture <strong>of</strong> this region around <strong>the</strong> town <strong>of</strong> Salvador da Bahia (Spielmann 1994a:<br />
68). He aims at au<strong>the</strong>nticity and reality, though his description <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> life <strong>of</strong> Tereza<br />
Baptista does not conta<strong>in</strong> social critique. He is not <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> reality based<br />
on socio-economic, legal or <strong>in</strong>stitutional relations, but <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> presentation <strong>of</strong> ideal<br />
constellations <strong>of</strong> human life (Spielmann 1994a: 84). Santiago, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand,<br />
wants to present a social critical diagnosis <strong>of</strong> Brazilian society. He takes Ramos’<br />
novel, connects it with his topic and creates someth<strong>in</strong>g new, <strong>the</strong> opposite <strong>of</strong> Ramos’<br />
<strong>in</strong>tention. Santiago deconstructs <strong>the</strong> figure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> writ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>tellectual <strong>of</strong> Brazilian<br />
modernism and shows that this figure no longer serves a purpose (Spielmann 1994a:<br />
175 with reference to Santiago). Amado constructs his story based on similar patterns<br />
to <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>al. Instead <strong>of</strong> deconstruct<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> template he follows it <strong>in</strong> detail. Hence,<br />
he does not produce someth<strong>in</strong>g new out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> known and present
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 119<br />
but takes parts <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> template and restructures <strong>the</strong>m <strong>in</strong> a brilliant way, to constitute<br />
a similar structure toge<strong>the</strong>r with new elements. Amada ‘pastichizes’ <strong>the</strong> folhetos but<br />
does not create someth<strong>in</strong>g new. His imitation lacks <strong>the</strong> cultural idea. In this manner<br />
pastiche is similar to <strong>the</strong> categories <strong>of</strong> mixture and hybrid.<br />
Both perspectives are also visible <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> description <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious service. The<br />
Iglesia Universal is not <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> au<strong>the</strong>nticity and particularity, it adapts everyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
it wants and needs. The church ‘pastichizes’ strategies used by o<strong>the</strong>r religions. But<br />
it is more than a pure imitation because all elements, whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y refer to music or<br />
exorcism, receive a new mean<strong>in</strong>g through adaptation. One can describe it as adaptation<br />
<strong>in</strong> Santiago’s way, as similar to <strong>the</strong> novels though without reference to <strong>the</strong>ir orig<strong>in</strong>al<br />
contexts. Instead <strong>of</strong> creat<strong>in</strong>g difference <strong>in</strong> order to criticize <strong>the</strong> template, <strong>the</strong> imitation<br />
is presented as someth<strong>in</strong>g real, au<strong>the</strong>ntic. Every suspicion that some elements could<br />
be taken from ano<strong>the</strong>r religion is vehemently rejected; <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal lacks <strong>the</strong><br />
irony that characterizes Amado’s novels. However, it would not be correct to describe<br />
<strong>the</strong> strategy <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal as pure imitation because it creates someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
new with its composition <strong>of</strong> foreign elements. The musical performance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pastor,<br />
supported by well-known melodies from telenovelas, was a perfect performance that<br />
created an emotional atmosphere with <strong>the</strong> help <strong>of</strong> copy<strong>in</strong>g. The church songs addressed<br />
<strong>the</strong> congregation with <strong>the</strong>ir religious content <strong>in</strong> a different way from <strong>the</strong> songs <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
telenovelas on TV; hence <strong>the</strong>y do not represent simple imitations.<br />
Pastiche and o<strong>the</strong>r style media cause quite ambivalent reactions with<strong>in</strong> Brazilian<br />
cultural criticism. Roberto Schwarz, for <strong>in</strong>stance, is very sceptical about imitation,<br />
though he does not challenge <strong>the</strong> copy<strong>in</strong>g but <strong>the</strong> unpragmatic manner <strong>in</strong> which<br />
people are copy<strong>in</strong>g, because Brazilian culture has many dynamic elements reflect<strong>in</strong>g<br />
orig<strong>in</strong>ality as well as <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>ality (1995: 281). Schwarz criticizes <strong>the</strong><br />
undifferentiated adaptation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ories and refers to <strong>the</strong> ambivalence between <strong>the</strong><br />
real Brazil and <strong>the</strong> ‘ideological prestige’ <strong>of</strong> those countries that are regarded as<br />
models. Intellectuals <strong>in</strong> Brazil would permanently adopt new <strong>the</strong>ories developed <strong>in</strong><br />
Europe and North America though <strong>the</strong>y have no connection to <strong>the</strong> social movements<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brazil (Schwarz 1995: 265). He regrets <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> studies about Brazilian culture;<br />
however, his rare positive examples are all taken from literary studies, hence he<br />
ignores <strong>the</strong> anthropological work done on Brazil.<br />
Schwarz demands <strong>the</strong> return to genu<strong>in</strong>e Brazilian products. His ideal would<br />
probably be Amado’s novel <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> Santiago’s book, which deconstructs <strong>the</strong><br />
template <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g it. This might also be <strong>the</strong> reason for his dislike <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
reversion <strong>of</strong> cultural subord<strong>in</strong>ation. After <strong>the</strong> writ<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> Derrida and Foucault were<br />
<strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>in</strong>to Lat<strong>in</strong> America many <strong>in</strong>tellectuals such as Santiago started to negate<br />
<strong>the</strong> devaluation <strong>of</strong> copy<strong>in</strong>g as secondary. This ‘Lat<strong>in</strong> Americanization’ <strong>of</strong> formerly<br />
central categories reverses <strong>the</strong> valuation <strong>of</strong> periphery and centre. However, Schwarz<br />
challenges this attitude because he doubts that <strong>the</strong> conceptual break will really improve<br />
<strong>the</strong> situation. He writes that ‘<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>evitability <strong>of</strong> cultural imitation is bound up with<br />
a specific set <strong>of</strong> historical imperatives over which abstract philosophical critique can<br />
exercise no power’ (Schwarz 1995: 269–70, referr<strong>in</strong>g to Santiago 1978: 11–28).<br />
In order to understand Schwarz’s valuation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> technique <strong>of</strong> copy<strong>in</strong>g, it is<br />
necessary to look at <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> Brazil’s <strong>in</strong>dependence and <strong>the</strong> open<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> harbours<br />
to <strong>the</strong> British mar<strong>in</strong>ers between 1807 and 1808. While before it was normal to copy
120<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
prohibited products, it <strong>the</strong>n became a problem that was and still is discussed under<br />
various terms such as mimicry and pastiche. Schwarz argues that this pejorative<br />
connotation has someth<strong>in</strong>g to do with <strong>the</strong> way Brazil ga<strong>in</strong>ed its <strong>in</strong>dependence. Unlike<br />
its neighbours Brazil became <strong>in</strong>dependent not because <strong>of</strong> a revolution but because<br />
<strong>of</strong> altered external factors and <strong>the</strong> change <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> head <strong>of</strong> state. Hence, <strong>in</strong>dependence<br />
did not cause a lot <strong>of</strong> changes; <strong>the</strong> pr<strong>of</strong>its were collected from <strong>the</strong> local rul<strong>in</strong>g class<br />
<strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonial servants. All modern ideas such as civil rights and freedom that<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluenced Spanish America dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> period <strong>of</strong> political emancipation were regarded<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brazil as foreign, artificial and anti-national. The consequences are still visible: <strong>the</strong><br />
colonial heritage became for some a relic that vanished with progress; but for many it<br />
represents <strong>the</strong> ‘real Brazil’ that one should save for imitation (Schwarz 1995: 276).<br />
Schwarz argues that <strong>the</strong> reason for <strong>the</strong> discrepancy between <strong>the</strong> two Brazils goes<br />
back to <strong>the</strong> foundation <strong>of</strong> a national state based on slavery. On one side <strong>the</strong> slave<br />
trade, <strong>the</strong> latifundium and <strong>the</strong> clientelism cont<strong>in</strong>ued to exist with social rules from<br />
colonial times, and on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r side <strong>the</strong> new state had a constitution accord<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
which everyone was equal, state and church were divided, and civil rights existed.<br />
Even <strong>the</strong> abolishment <strong>of</strong> slavery changed <strong>the</strong> social situation only gradually<br />
(da Matta 1991: 153–4). The imitative character <strong>of</strong> Brazilian life started on <strong>the</strong><br />
basis <strong>of</strong> brutal suppression, without even m<strong>in</strong>imal reciprocity (see Schwarz<br />
1995: 278). The result was <strong>the</strong> ‘pa<strong>in</strong>fulness <strong>of</strong> an imitative civilization … produced<br />
not by imitation – which is present at any event – but by <strong>the</strong> social structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
country’ (Schwarz 1995: 279). However, Schwarz does not regard imitation as a<br />
national characteristic but – still argu<strong>in</strong>g with Marxist nomenclature – as <strong>the</strong> illness<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rul<strong>in</strong>g class. He ignores <strong>the</strong> creative power <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se imitations, which are even<br />
visible <strong>in</strong> a service <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal.<br />
Santiago has, as his novel has already demonstrated, a very different attitude towards<br />
Brazilian postmodernism, expressed also on a <strong>the</strong>oretical level <strong>in</strong> an article about spectacle<br />
and simulacrum. He describes spectacle as cultural events performed <strong>in</strong> museums or art<br />
galleries that allow privileged participants a direct encounter with ‘au<strong>the</strong>ntic’ culture.<br />
Simulacrum, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, is electronically produced mass enterta<strong>in</strong>ment that is<br />
ma<strong>in</strong>ly presented on TV, hence <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> absence <strong>of</strong> participants, and is regarded as ‘bastard<br />
products <strong>of</strong> cultural commercialization’ (Santiago 1995: 241–2). While <strong>the</strong> former<br />
evokes <strong>in</strong>tellectual stimulation and reflection, <strong>the</strong> latter is enterta<strong>in</strong>ment. The separation<br />
between <strong>the</strong> two forms already <strong>in</strong>dicates <strong>the</strong> negative connotation <strong>of</strong> postmodernity –<br />
someth<strong>in</strong>g that Santiago vehemently challenges. Referr<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> example <strong>of</strong> a televized<br />
religious service Santiago shows how <strong>the</strong> reception varies depend<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> perspective.<br />
If <strong>the</strong> perspective is on <strong>the</strong> production, hence <strong>the</strong> film<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> TV programme, <strong>the</strong><br />
technicians disturb <strong>the</strong> order <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious event (spectacle), <strong>the</strong> service. If <strong>the</strong><br />
perspective is on <strong>the</strong> reception, <strong>the</strong> broadcast on TV, it is only important that <strong>the</strong><br />
viewers (simulacrum) are allowed to participate <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> spectacle (Santiago 1995: 247).<br />
Consequently, Santiago is not concerned with <strong>the</strong> problem <strong>of</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>ality or imitation<br />
because it addresses production, while he is <strong>in</strong>terested only <strong>in</strong> reception. In this l<strong>in</strong>e<br />
<strong>of</strong> argument Santiago argues for a different deal<strong>in</strong>g with mass media that are wrongly<br />
discrim<strong>in</strong>ated aga<strong>in</strong>st. Mass media, <strong>in</strong> a similar way to pr<strong>in</strong>ted media, transport not only<br />
enterta<strong>in</strong>ment but also <strong>in</strong>formation <strong>of</strong> various k<strong>in</strong>ds. The spectator has only to learn to<br />
transform <strong>in</strong>formation <strong>in</strong>to knowledge. Alphabetization campaigns for adults that do not
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 121<br />
take this <strong>in</strong>to account are useless. A worker who masters his life illiterately should be<br />
taught how to ‘read’ his symbolic and cultural universe (Santiago 1995: 248–9). Hence,<br />
Santiago refers to an extended def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> read<strong>in</strong>g that is not limited to pr<strong>in</strong>ted media<br />
but <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> read<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> symbols. He orients himself towards access<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>formation<br />
that is important for liv<strong>in</strong>g. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century, when massive alphabetization<br />
campaigns were developed <strong>in</strong> Europe and North America, <strong>in</strong>formation was transmitted<br />
only through <strong>the</strong> written word. Emancipation was strictly connected to literacy. However,<br />
<strong>the</strong> broadcast<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> news on <strong>the</strong> radio and later <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> c<strong>in</strong>ema has already changed <strong>the</strong><br />
situation. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> spread <strong>of</strong> televisions <strong>in</strong> all households it is possible to ga<strong>in</strong> global<br />
<strong>in</strong>formation without literacy. Alphabetization is no longer important for <strong>the</strong> transmission<br />
<strong>of</strong> knowledge, though <strong>the</strong> untra<strong>in</strong>ed handl<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> media still creates problems.<br />
Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Santiago, <strong>the</strong> dichotomy between <strong>the</strong> two cultural forms, <strong>the</strong> one<br />
book-centred and <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r mass media, is now dissolved. Novelists have learnt to<br />
accept <strong>the</strong> mass media and even to <strong>in</strong>corporate elements <strong>of</strong> it. Some novels are only<br />
understandable if <strong>the</strong> reader acknowledges certa<strong>in</strong> motives <strong>in</strong> mass media. Cultural<br />
products do not rely any longer on <strong>the</strong> separation between elite and pop, orig<strong>in</strong>al and<br />
imitation, oral and written (Santiago 1995: 246). Santiago <strong>the</strong>refore focuses on <strong>the</strong><br />
recipients because only <strong>the</strong>y can improve <strong>the</strong> cultural products <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mass media.<br />
Hence one should adjust education.<br />
The spectators – that is, <strong>the</strong> new ‘readers’, more or less literate, more or less demand<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
more or less expert <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir experience <strong>of</strong> mass media – are [those] who will def<strong>in</strong>e <strong>the</strong><br />
standards <strong>of</strong> excellence <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> future, as <strong>the</strong> critical establishment and <strong>the</strong> university did <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> past. It is not a question <strong>of</strong> exclud<strong>in</strong>g criticism and <strong>the</strong> university but <strong>of</strong> tak<strong>in</strong>g away<br />
<strong>the</strong> authority that <strong>the</strong>y imag<strong>in</strong>ed conferred on <strong>the</strong>m, <strong>the</strong> sole or f<strong>in</strong>al power <strong>of</strong> judgement.<br />
(Santiago 1995: 249)<br />
Santiago values a cultural object <strong>in</strong> terms <strong>of</strong> its mean<strong>in</strong>g for <strong>the</strong> recipient. Any<br />
universal value is connected to ethnic, social, sexual and o<strong>the</strong>r centralisms. Spectacle<br />
and simulacrum are nei<strong>the</strong>r bad nor good: this depends on <strong>the</strong> conditions. Even a bad<br />
book can produce ‘good read<strong>in</strong>g’ or a good book just moderate read<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same<br />
way, as <strong>the</strong> value <strong>of</strong> enterta<strong>in</strong>ment depends on <strong>the</strong> recipient.<br />
Santiago represents a new direction <strong>in</strong> Brazilian culture critique that is no<br />
longer concerned with <strong>the</strong> value <strong>of</strong> imitations but with <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> cultural<br />
products from <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> observer. The <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> observer <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> products is one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> demands <strong>of</strong> fem<strong>in</strong>ist <strong>the</strong>ory and also is<br />
important <strong>in</strong> cultural anthropology. The use <strong>of</strong> pastiche and o<strong>the</strong>r metaphors for <strong>the</strong><br />
understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> culture and religions is very limited, as is <strong>in</strong>dicated by <strong>the</strong> short<br />
summary <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious service because it is concerned only with elements, with <strong>the</strong><br />
details. Someth<strong>in</strong>g similar can be said about o<strong>the</strong>r metaphors such as <strong>the</strong> chameleon,<br />
which describes a dynamic but also organic image. At first glance only <strong>the</strong> metaphor<br />
<strong>of</strong> a kaleidoscope <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> human perspective, because <strong>the</strong> object does its trick<br />
only through <strong>the</strong> eye <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> observer. None<strong>the</strong>less, both kaleidoscope and mosaic<br />
<strong>in</strong>dicate an unorganized re-structur<strong>in</strong>g, not a new creation, and hence disregard<br />
human creativity. The mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> elements is a pure technical act; hence it reduces<br />
mixture to a technical event. Metaphors do not <strong>of</strong>fer def<strong>in</strong>itions or explanations; <strong>the</strong>y<br />
always suggest an <strong>in</strong>terpretation that varies accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> spectator. To describe
122<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
a culture as an <strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> fragments <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> sense <strong>of</strong> a mosaic refers only to <strong>the</strong><br />
fragmentization <strong>of</strong> its structure but says noth<strong>in</strong>g about its character. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong><br />
use <strong>of</strong> metaphors produces important impulses for <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> cultures.<br />
House and Street – Metaphors as Cultural Concept<br />
In <strong>the</strong> last section I focused on cultural concepts developed with<strong>in</strong> cultural critique <strong>in</strong><br />
Brazil. For a long time anthropology was limited to <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> small communities,<br />
ei<strong>the</strong>r traditional or modern and postmodern. Even <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> communities <strong>in</strong> urban<br />
contexts focuses only on locally limited communities or <strong>in</strong>stitutions with<strong>in</strong> an urban<br />
area; with few exceptions, such as García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, anthropologists <strong>of</strong>ten decl<strong>in</strong>e<br />
to look at social contexts. None<strong>the</strong>less, even <strong>in</strong> cultural anthropology <strong>the</strong> cultural<br />
concept has changed, as I have already mentioned <strong>in</strong> Chapter 1. A culture can no<br />
longer be regarded as an isolated unity because it always has contact with o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
cultures. National societies became an analytical level constructed from <strong>the</strong> outside.<br />
‘In o<strong>the</strong>r words, we work today <strong>in</strong> a world where we recognize <strong>the</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>gent and<br />
constructed nature <strong>of</strong> categories that we never<strong>the</strong>less f<strong>in</strong>d analytically, and even<br />
practically, useful’ (Hess 1995: 17).<br />
In <strong>the</strong> tradition <strong>of</strong> Gilberto Freyre, Lat<strong>in</strong> American anthropologists have started<br />
much earlier than o<strong>the</strong>r anthropological schools to look at national constructs.<br />
Though <strong>the</strong>y moved away from <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> small communities, <strong>the</strong>y never<strong>the</strong>less<br />
did not lose <strong>the</strong> ethnographic perspective, as I will illustrate with regard to Roberto<br />
da Matta, one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most important contemporary anthropologists <strong>in</strong> Brazil. His<br />
<strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>of</strong> cultural events set milestones <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American anthropology.<br />
While for a long time Mexico was regarded as <strong>the</strong> prime example <strong>of</strong> mestizaje, Brazil<br />
was <strong>of</strong>ten described as a future tropical version <strong>of</strong> North America. Da Matta rejects<br />
this evolutionism and refers to its own, Brazilian way. With reference to Victor Turner<br />
he deconstructs <strong>the</strong> old division <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> world <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> ‘West and <strong>the</strong> rest’ and describes<br />
Brazil as an ‘<strong>in</strong>termediary society, nei<strong>the</strong>r modern nor traditional, but emphatically<br />
both’ (Hess 1995: 8, 12). Da Matta is critical <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> fact that anthropological studies<br />
about Lat<strong>in</strong> America and Brazil <strong>in</strong> particular are only <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> mixture, but<br />
not <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternal logic beh<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong> mixture (1995: 271).<br />
For generations, Lat<strong>in</strong> America has had its share <strong>of</strong> observers who like to prove that <strong>the</strong><br />
cont<strong>in</strong>ent is a true logical disaster. More precisely, it’s a sociological disaster. The problem<br />
is that <strong>the</strong>se observers rarely question <strong>the</strong>ir own start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t. They assume <strong>the</strong>ir position<br />
to be logical and precise to <strong>the</strong> extent that <strong>the</strong>y are part <strong>of</strong> a system capable <strong>of</strong> def<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g<br />
itself with a word (capitalism, modernity, progress), two or three well-known concepts<br />
(usually made up by <strong>the</strong> observers, and on <strong>the</strong>ir own terms), and only one sort <strong>of</strong> logic<br />
– <strong>the</strong> excluded middle (<strong>the</strong> tertium non datur <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ancient philosophers) – that does not<br />
allow apples and oranges to mix. But none <strong>of</strong> this works for <strong>the</strong> so-called ‘Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
reality’. (da Matta 1995: 270)<br />
Da Matta suggests def<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g Lat<strong>in</strong> American reality us<strong>in</strong>g five concepts: samba, pisca,<br />
caudillismo, carnival and belly laugh. These five elements can help to develop two<br />
sets <strong>of</strong> logic that exist <strong>in</strong> Brazil simultaneously. Da Matta regards his country as ‘a
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 123<br />
surgical room for conceptual and symbolic operations where everyth<strong>in</strong>g is “out <strong>of</strong><br />
place” but enjoys a <strong>the</strong>oretical free voucher’ (1995: 271).<br />
Joy <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical play is visible with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> works <strong>of</strong> da Matta whe<strong>the</strong>r he discusses<br />
carnival <strong>in</strong> Rio de Janeiro or ano<strong>the</strong>r topic. His start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t is <strong>the</strong> question <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
relationship between Brazil as nation and as society. Da Matta always focuses <strong>in</strong><br />
his works on <strong>the</strong> core <strong>of</strong> those aspects that are <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>terest for him as Brazilian, <strong>in</strong><br />
particular <strong>the</strong> ‘perennial anti-democratic (and anti-egalitarian) Brazilian elitism that<br />
is characterized by an arrogant style <strong>of</strong> deal<strong>in</strong>g with social and political differences’<br />
(1991: x–xi). He studies social practices that no one <strong>in</strong> Brazil takes seriously though<br />
<strong>the</strong>y are at <strong>the</strong> heart <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian power structure.<br />
His studies always conta<strong>in</strong> an ethnographic perspective that is not focused on<br />
abstract social patterns but on rituals and certa<strong>in</strong> dramatic characters. Though he<br />
does not deny <strong>the</strong> historical depth <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> practices, he wants to <strong>in</strong>vestigate <strong>the</strong>se<br />
manifestations with regard to <strong>the</strong>ir social and political implications with<strong>in</strong> an<br />
ideological context, hence <strong>the</strong> role that rituals have <strong>in</strong> construct<strong>in</strong>g social identity<br />
(da Matta 1991: 14).<br />
Da Matta <strong>in</strong>vestigates three different events that ritualize <strong>the</strong> Brazilian social<br />
world: a military parade (<strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong> parade on Independence Day), carnival<br />
and a Catholic procession. While <strong>the</strong> first two forms are <strong>in</strong>terpreted with regard<br />
to <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> national identity, <strong>the</strong> last one articulates local and regional<br />
identities (da Matta 1991: 26–7). But despite this difference all three types represent<br />
discourses about <strong>the</strong> same reality, ‘each highlight<strong>in</strong>g crucial, essential aspects <strong>of</strong> it<br />
from a perspective with<strong>in</strong> that reality’ (da Matta 1991: 45). The participants at <strong>the</strong><br />
carnival are identical to <strong>the</strong> ones who observe <strong>the</strong> military parade on 7 September,<br />
Independence Day; <strong>the</strong> friendly gentleman who praises <strong>the</strong> carnival costumes is <strong>the</strong><br />
same man who arrogantly snubs people <strong>in</strong> lower social positions; and <strong>the</strong> rogue<br />
can simultaneously admire an authoritarian leader. Da Matta characterizes Brazilian<br />
culture as hav<strong>in</strong>g two contradictory tendencies: <strong>the</strong> expression <strong>of</strong> unbounded and<br />
personalized equality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> masses and authoritarian superiority at <strong>the</strong> same time.<br />
Da Matta looks at <strong>the</strong> national rituals as examples <strong>of</strong> three different ways to<br />
illustrate important aspects <strong>of</strong> Brazilian social structure. The discourse <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
military parade focuses <strong>the</strong> ‘rout<strong>in</strong>ized, hence implicit and <strong>in</strong>ternalized, aspects <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> social order’ (da Matta 1991: 46). It symbolizes <strong>the</strong> hierarchization <strong>of</strong> positions<br />
and relationships and is only directed towards aspects that are specifically ‘national<br />
Brazilian’, such as <strong>the</strong> flag, <strong>the</strong> colours, <strong>the</strong> hymn and <strong>the</strong> political leader. The<br />
carnival discourse represents ambivalent aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> social order. It focuses on<br />
<strong>the</strong> boundaries <strong>of</strong> society, <strong>the</strong> areas between classes and groups. Because <strong>of</strong> its<br />
universal, cosmological orientation it embraces even ambivalent categories such as<br />
death and life, joy and sadness, poverty and wealth. Both discourses conta<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
own logic: while <strong>the</strong> discourse <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> parade supports <strong>the</strong> hierarchy and illum<strong>in</strong>ates<br />
<strong>the</strong> nation, <strong>the</strong> carnival discourse reverses <strong>the</strong> social positions and illum<strong>in</strong>ates <strong>the</strong><br />
Brazilian cosmos and <strong>the</strong> Brazilian universe. The discourse <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> procession does<br />
not reflect ei<strong>the</strong>r <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> two but causes <strong>the</strong> neutralization <strong>of</strong> social categories because<br />
superior and subord<strong>in</strong>ate, sick and healthy, sa<strong>in</strong>t and s<strong>in</strong>ner are all side by side.<br />
Religious festivals harmonize and reconcile believers with <strong>the</strong> government through<br />
religious worship. The strict religious hierarchy confronts a hierarchy <strong>in</strong> which all
124<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
human be<strong>in</strong>gs are unified under <strong>the</strong> leadership <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> clerics. Da Matta illustrates <strong>in</strong><br />
his writ<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>the</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> social relationships and orientation, whose logic is to<br />
stress a relationship <strong>in</strong> one moment and to dis<strong>in</strong>tegrate it <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> next (1991: 48).<br />
This dialectic is also visible <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> detailed analysis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> various carnival levels.<br />
Da Matta regards <strong>the</strong> carnival as a complex reflection <strong>of</strong> or a commentary on <strong>the</strong><br />
Brazilian social world, hence not a reflection <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> social structure. In <strong>the</strong> tradition<br />
<strong>of</strong> Claude Lévi-Strauss and Karl Marx, da Matta refers to an <strong>in</strong>direct reflection<br />
<strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> a direct one. He wants to <strong>in</strong>dicate with this dist<strong>in</strong>ction that with its various<br />
sublevels carnival creates its own social reality, with its own rules and logic (da<br />
Matta 1991: 62). Carnival also reproduces <strong>the</strong> world but, as da Matta <strong>in</strong>sists, not<br />
directly or automatically but <strong>in</strong> a dialectic way, with many self-reflections, curves,<br />
slots, dimensions and levels. Here da Matta sees <strong>the</strong> reason for <strong>the</strong> dynamism <strong>of</strong><br />
society, and <strong>the</strong> hope for <strong>the</strong> world.<br />
Inspired by <strong>the</strong> novel O País do Carnaval by Jorge Amado, written dur<strong>in</strong>g a period<br />
<strong>of</strong> search for Brazilian identity <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1930s, da Matta extracts two different social<br />
doma<strong>in</strong>s, which oppose each o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> Brazilian society and represent important means<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> analysis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian social world: ‘house’ and ‘street’. He def<strong>in</strong>es <strong>the</strong>m<br />
briefly: ‘The street is to lack <strong>of</strong> control and mix<strong>in</strong>g with a multitude <strong>of</strong> persons as <strong>the</strong><br />
house is to control and authoritarianism’ (da Matta 1991: 64.). Though at first glance<br />
both categories look similar to <strong>the</strong> two forms <strong>of</strong> urban life described by Schiffauer<br />
– <strong>in</strong>terior world and public – a second glance illustrates <strong>the</strong> particularity <strong>of</strong> da Matta’s<br />
categories, which, <strong>in</strong>terwoven with each o<strong>the</strong>r, represent Brazilian society. The category<br />
‘street’ h<strong>in</strong>ts at a world full <strong>of</strong> unexpected events, accidents and passion, while <strong>the</strong><br />
category ‘house’ symbolizes <strong>the</strong> controlled universe where everyth<strong>in</strong>g and everyone<br />
has its fixed location. The first one represents movement, <strong>in</strong>novations and actions, <strong>the</strong><br />
second one harmony and quietness, a place <strong>of</strong> belong<strong>in</strong>g and warmth. On <strong>the</strong> street one<br />
works, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> house one rests. Da Matta concludes <strong>the</strong>refore that <strong>the</strong> social groups on<br />
<strong>the</strong> street and <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> house are differently structured, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> house <strong>in</strong> relation to personal<br />
relationships such as k<strong>in</strong>ship and patronage hierarchically ordered by age and gender,<br />
and on <strong>the</strong> street <strong>in</strong> relation to a strictly <strong>in</strong>dividualistic selection hierarchically ordered<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to different categories. Respect and considerateness, which are assumed to be<br />
<strong>the</strong> basic fundamentals <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian world, describe only <strong>the</strong> relationships between<br />
parents and children and between patron and client, but not <strong>the</strong> doma<strong>in</strong>s <strong>in</strong> general.<br />
House and Street have fixed social roles, ideologies, values, actions and objects. Social<br />
roles based on k<strong>in</strong>ship are def<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> doma<strong>in</strong> House while social roles that <strong>in</strong>clude<br />
choice and freedom belong to <strong>the</strong> public sphere, and hence to <strong>the</strong> Street. The same can<br />
be said about objects. When <strong>the</strong>y are exchanged or when social roles are mixed, <strong>the</strong>n<br />
scandals and o<strong>the</strong>r dramas occur (see da Matta 1991: 69).<br />
Da Matta adds an <strong>in</strong>termediate space between <strong>the</strong> two categories, <strong>the</strong> veranda,<br />
or <strong>the</strong> w<strong>in</strong>dow and <strong>the</strong> salon <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> house, where <strong>the</strong> two doma<strong>in</strong>s House and Street<br />
meet. The salon is a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> broker between <strong>the</strong> two doma<strong>in</strong>s because it allows<br />
contact. Da Matta also excludes <strong>the</strong> area <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> servants from <strong>the</strong> social doma<strong>in</strong><br />
House, while <strong>the</strong> kitchen rema<strong>in</strong>s a special female area. 26 But da Matta only h<strong>in</strong>ts at<br />
26 In <strong>the</strong> Mediterranean social areas are also differentiated <strong>in</strong> two complementary<br />
oppositions, but <strong>the</strong>re <strong>the</strong> House <strong>in</strong>cludes even <strong>the</strong> street <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> house as a female area
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 125<br />
<strong>the</strong> gender correlation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> two doma<strong>in</strong>s. While women rule over <strong>the</strong> kitchen, <strong>the</strong><br />
family rema<strong>in</strong>s patriarchally structured.<br />
Da Matta’s dist<strong>in</strong>ction is based on a situation described <strong>in</strong> a novel from <strong>the</strong> 1930s,<br />
and represents <strong>the</strong> ideal <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian society ra<strong>the</strong>r than <strong>the</strong> reality. Even <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
1920s Brazilian women had already conquered <strong>the</strong> Street, <strong>the</strong> public doma<strong>in</strong>, because<br />
by this time <strong>the</strong> class and gender borders had become porous and women were no<br />
longer limited to <strong>the</strong> House doma<strong>in</strong> (see also Spielmann 1994a: 117). None<strong>the</strong>less<br />
da Matta’s characterizations, while apparently disconnected from reality, are a good<br />
start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t for <strong>the</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g observations, because <strong>the</strong> described comparison is<br />
still regarded as be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ideal <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. If a woman, for <strong>in</strong>stance, leaves<br />
her doma<strong>in</strong> or has to leave it because <strong>of</strong> f<strong>in</strong>ancial reasons, she is <strong>of</strong>ten no longer<br />
regarded as a woman but as a (half) man. 27<br />
Da Matta transfers <strong>the</strong> two doma<strong>in</strong>s House and Street to <strong>the</strong> urban context <strong>of</strong><br />
Brazil. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to his observations <strong>the</strong> layout <strong>of</strong> cities represents <strong>the</strong> layout <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
House doma<strong>in</strong>, with its limited <strong>in</strong>terior areas. ‘My street’ or ‘our street’ is opposed<br />
to ‘<strong>the</strong> street’ as a general category. The street is an area with family houses while<br />
<strong>the</strong> public place represents <strong>the</strong> area for formal and impersonal meet<strong>in</strong>gs, similar to<br />
<strong>the</strong> salon <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> House doma<strong>in</strong>. Tak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to account <strong>the</strong> opposition between House<br />
for controlled social relationships and distance and Street for loss <strong>of</strong> control and<br />
distance, street as a general category refers to a public section controlled by <strong>the</strong><br />
government (or dest<strong>in</strong>y), hence by powers out <strong>of</strong> reach for <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual (da Matta<br />
1991: 65–6). However, <strong>the</strong> street <strong>in</strong> this sense can be subdivided <strong>in</strong>to two areas, <strong>the</strong><br />
centre as an economic place for trade and <strong>the</strong> plaza as aes<strong>the</strong>tic place. Hence, da<br />
Matta divides <strong>the</strong> urban world <strong>in</strong>to three categories: house, plaza and centre.<br />
Based on this dialectic between House and Street, da Matta <strong>the</strong>n looks at <strong>the</strong><br />
carnival and <strong>of</strong>fers an <strong>in</strong>terpretation connected to <strong>the</strong> relationship between <strong>the</strong><br />
two categories (1991: 73). But one has to keep <strong>in</strong> m<strong>in</strong>d that <strong>the</strong> two categories are<br />
quite flexible. Objects can move <strong>in</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> situations from one doma<strong>in</strong> to <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r,<br />
and even <strong>the</strong> doma<strong>in</strong>s can alter <strong>in</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> situations. The House can extend <strong>in</strong>to<br />
<strong>the</strong> Street, objects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Street can <strong>in</strong>vade <strong>the</strong> House, and both processes can even<br />
happen simultaneously <strong>in</strong> a specific social moment such as <strong>the</strong> carnival. Da Matta<br />
dist<strong>in</strong>guishes two different types <strong>of</strong> Brazilian carnival, <strong>the</strong> street carnival with its<br />
famous parades and <strong>the</strong> club or salon carnival, hence carnival celebrations <strong>in</strong> private<br />
houses, which probably started as early as 1840. The latter festivals, orig<strong>in</strong>at<strong>in</strong>g<br />
from Portuguese entrudo, have no <strong>in</strong>stitutionalized public structure like <strong>the</strong> large<br />
public celebrations. With its two variations <strong>the</strong> Brazilian carnival reproduces <strong>the</strong> two<br />
social doma<strong>in</strong>s House and Street. The club carnival excludes unwanted people such<br />
as <strong>the</strong> poor by demand<strong>in</strong>g an entry fee or <strong>in</strong>vitation while <strong>the</strong> street carnival, despite<br />
while c<strong>of</strong>fee houses are def<strong>in</strong>ed as male areas (see Krasberg 1996: 30–44). For <strong>in</strong>formation<br />
about <strong>the</strong> connection between <strong>the</strong> social doma<strong>in</strong>s and concepts <strong>of</strong> honour and shame <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Mediterranean, see Peristany 1966 as well as <strong>the</strong> critique aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> stereotypic generalizations<br />
<strong>in</strong> Herzfeld 1980.<br />
27 In a similar area, <strong>the</strong> Mediterranean, Anton Blok quotes a man describ<strong>in</strong>g a woman <strong>in</strong><br />
Sicily who had to do ‘male’ activities as ‘una donna a cui mancano i coglioni’ (a woman who<br />
lacks only balls (<strong>in</strong> order to be identified as man)) (1982: 167).
126<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
some restricted areas, <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> public or, more precisely, needs <strong>the</strong> public (see da<br />
Matta 1991: 79–80). The Street is ‘domesticated’ dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> carnival:<br />
If <strong>in</strong> everyday life, <strong>the</strong> streets <strong>of</strong> Brazil and Rio de Janeiro are mortally dangerous for<br />
pedestrians and cars whiz through <strong>the</strong> streets as if <strong>the</strong>y were out to kill people, dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
Carnival <strong>the</strong> nervous and hysterical center <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city seems to turn <strong>in</strong>to a medieval square,<br />
and it is taken over completely by <strong>the</strong> people, who replace <strong>the</strong> cars and come to witness or<br />
participate <strong>in</strong> Carnival’s multiple levels. (da Matta 1991: 81)<br />
Long avenues and streets ga<strong>in</strong> a private character dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> carnival; <strong>the</strong> public<br />
areas between houses are decorated and used for competitions. Everyone enjoys<br />
<strong>the</strong> carnival (or better leaves <strong>the</strong> city dur<strong>in</strong>g this time); it establishes a sense <strong>of</strong><br />
belong<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> sense <strong>of</strong> Victor Turner’s concept <strong>of</strong> communitas (Turner 1974, see<br />
also da Matta 1984). Da Matta describes it as a very creative period with room for<br />
<strong>in</strong>dividual decoration <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> neighbourhood and o<strong>the</strong>r social categories.<br />
Without go<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>to too much detail about <strong>the</strong> Brazilian carnival I want to expla<strong>in</strong><br />
some differences between <strong>the</strong> Brazilian carnival and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong><br />
Brooklyn, as described <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Chapter 2. Though both carnivals require extensive<br />
preparation, for <strong>the</strong> mak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> costumes for example, <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival<br />
had to adjust to <strong>the</strong> new environment, Brooklyn. People <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> do not have so<br />
much space and time as <strong>in</strong> Brazil, where carnival is celebrated over many days and<br />
<strong>in</strong> a large sector <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> city. The parade <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn passes through a predom<strong>in</strong>ately<br />
Jewish Orthodox neighbourhood and does not <strong>in</strong>clude everyone, hence does not<br />
conquer <strong>the</strong> city as happens <strong>in</strong> Brazil. But <strong>in</strong> both cases one can observe a failure to<br />
comply with <strong>the</strong> established order and sequence, though to an even larger extent <strong>in</strong><br />
Brazil (da Matta 1991: 81–102, referr<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> Rio de Janeiro <strong>in</strong> 1977).<br />
As <strong>in</strong> Brazil it was not possible to <strong>in</strong>strumentalize <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
because <strong>the</strong> carnival belongs to no patron. None<strong>the</strong>less, both carnivals are divided <strong>in</strong>to<br />
various groups and subgroups that, for <strong>in</strong>stance, prepare <strong>the</strong> costumes and practise <strong>the</strong><br />
movements toge<strong>the</strong>r, though <strong>the</strong> Brazilian ones are, <strong>of</strong> course, much more elaborate.<br />
In Rio de Janeiro <strong>the</strong> Samba schools and blocos unify poor and rich, employer<br />
and employee, Black and White and <strong>the</strong>refore comb<strong>in</strong>e members <strong>of</strong> different and<br />
normally strictly separated social groups. Similar to religious communities such as <strong>the</strong><br />
Umbanda centres and Kardecist groups, charity organizations and football clubs, <strong>the</strong><br />
carnival organizations are ‘characterized and <strong>in</strong>spired by an egalitarian, <strong>in</strong>dividualistic<br />
ideology, superimposed on a familistic, patronal, and authoritarian nucleus’ (da Matta<br />
1991: 100). Da Matta states that <strong>the</strong> k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> public <strong>in</strong>stitutions that unite social groups<br />
and create a bridge between <strong>the</strong> doma<strong>in</strong>s Street and House are typical <strong>of</strong> Brazil:<br />
We systematically create situations where a social <strong>in</strong>version is possible, s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong>re is<br />
always an encounter <strong>of</strong> values and objectives situated <strong>in</strong> social doma<strong>in</strong>s that are frequently<br />
distant and antagonistic <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> everyday world. (1991: 102)<br />
The carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn cannot fulfil this function because it is limited to one<br />
specific group, <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants, who are structured <strong>in</strong> an egalitarian way<br />
with an authoritarian core. The carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn is quite similar to <strong>the</strong> Iglesia
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 127<br />
Universal: all believers and participants are equal but <strong>the</strong>y are structured around an<br />
authoritarian nucleus that is subord<strong>in</strong>ated to <strong>the</strong> Brazilian nucleus.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, despite some similarity both groups <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn lack <strong>the</strong> def<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
role <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> social world that characterizes <strong>the</strong> Brazilian carnival. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
Brazilian carnival <strong>the</strong> two social doma<strong>in</strong>s, House and Street, can meet without any<br />
social consequences. The carnival even enables <strong>the</strong> metamorphosis <strong>of</strong> a socially<br />
underprivileged worker <strong>in</strong>to a Samba queen and an <strong>in</strong>dustrial worker <strong>in</strong>to a famous<br />
dancer. Structurally deprived people are transformed <strong>in</strong>to different personalities <strong>in</strong> a<br />
way similar to transformations that occur dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> a spirit or deity<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> a believer (da Matta 1991: 134). This k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> mystical metamorphosis<br />
enables – accord<strong>in</strong>g to da Matta – <strong>in</strong> particular poor women to seduce (dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
carnival) or to heal (<strong>in</strong> Umbanda rituals) without hav<strong>in</strong>g wealth or <strong>in</strong>fluence. Da<br />
Matta describes this characteristic as a ‘crucial and au<strong>the</strong>ntic cultural value <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
hierarchical system itself’ because it enables people to express social discontent,<br />
hence perhaps even prevent<strong>in</strong>g riots <strong>in</strong> a conformist system, <strong>the</strong> ideas and actions <strong>of</strong><br />
which are not cohesive (1991: 136).<br />
The dialectic and its lack <strong>of</strong> commonality is, accord<strong>in</strong>g to da Matta’s future studies,<br />
<strong>the</strong> key aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian dilemma that orig<strong>in</strong>ates <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> discrepancy between <strong>the</strong><br />
two social positions <strong>in</strong>dividual and person. The start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t is a Brazilian peculiarity<br />
that is described with <strong>the</strong> phrase ‘Você sabe com quem está falando?!’ (‘Do you know<br />
who you are deal<strong>in</strong>g with?!’). Though everyone <strong>in</strong> Brazil uses this phrase to order<br />
social relations, it is concealed to outsiders. Da Matta argues <strong>the</strong>refore that <strong>the</strong>re is a<br />
discrepancy between <strong>the</strong> real use <strong>of</strong> a rule and its social grammar. Hence one should<br />
always dist<strong>in</strong>guish <strong>in</strong> Brazil – as he <strong>in</strong>sists – between <strong>the</strong> rules and <strong>the</strong> practices.<br />
There are even two different concepts <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> national reality: one <strong>of</strong> solidarity and<br />
cordiality and <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r characterized by exclusive categories organized accord<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to a scale <strong>of</strong> respect and prestige (da Matta 1991: 141). Though Brazil has a legal<br />
system with civil rights and o<strong>the</strong>r laws based on a horizontal ethic, people usually live<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> ideology <strong>of</strong> guilds and religious bro<strong>the</strong>rhoods, and <strong>the</strong>ir loyalties and<br />
vertically structured ethics. Da Matta expla<strong>in</strong>s this development with <strong>the</strong> foundation<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> republic dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> abolishment <strong>of</strong> slavery. The aristocrats reacted<br />
to legal developments with overemphasized cleanl<strong>in</strong>ess <strong>of</strong> house and body <strong>in</strong> order to<br />
express <strong>the</strong>ir differentness and to establish a new hierarchy. In this way <strong>the</strong>y <strong>in</strong>vented<br />
a ‘<strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> body’ with various practices that are still <strong>in</strong> use and have led to <strong>the</strong><br />
development <strong>of</strong> a Brazilian form <strong>of</strong> racism (da Matta 1991: 153–4). After a rigid bipolar<br />
and hierarchical ideology <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> first decades, <strong>the</strong> focus shifted onto <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>termediate<br />
forms and po<strong>in</strong>ts <strong>of</strong> connection, <strong>in</strong> particular after <strong>the</strong> success <strong>of</strong> Gilbert Freyre’s works.<br />
Even dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g glorification <strong>of</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> focus rema<strong>in</strong>ed on <strong>the</strong> body,<br />
which became <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hierarchical structure <strong>of</strong> Brazil. Brazilian racism was<br />
always aes<strong>the</strong>tic and not legal as <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, because accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> constitution<br />
Brazilians became equal after <strong>the</strong> abolition <strong>of</strong> slavery. Hence, s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> republic <strong>the</strong>re has been a dist<strong>in</strong>ction between <strong>the</strong> civil law and <strong>the</strong> lived reality<br />
that is still present today, though <strong>in</strong> different variations. In most situations people act<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to a network <strong>of</strong> personal relationships and moral values and not accord<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to <strong>the</strong> law. Da Matta argues that <strong>the</strong> opposition between public and private, impersonal<br />
and personal, anonymous and established, and universal and biographic is <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong>
128<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Brazilian society that dist<strong>in</strong>guishes between <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual (<strong>in</strong>divíduo) and <strong>the</strong> person<br />
(pessoa). An <strong>in</strong>dividual has to expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>mself <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> law while a person can<br />
only be def<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> social relationships (da Matta 1991: 170–77). Da Matta<br />
describes <strong>the</strong> Brazilian world <strong>the</strong>refore as ‘made up <strong>of</strong> a number <strong>of</strong> persons located <strong>in</strong><br />
a rigid hierarchy rul<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> life and dest<strong>in</strong>y <strong>of</strong> a multitude <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuals’ (1991: 182).<br />
Individuality has negative connotations because it implies leav<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> doma<strong>in</strong> House<br />
and liv<strong>in</strong>g separately from <strong>the</strong> family. An <strong>in</strong>dividual lacks <strong>the</strong> attachment to a unit that <strong>in</strong><br />
most cases is built through <strong>the</strong> family though <strong>the</strong> membership <strong>of</strong> trade unions, political<br />
parties or o<strong>the</strong>r groups also supports <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> attachment to <strong>the</strong> nation. Hence,<br />
<strong>the</strong>re is also an <strong>in</strong>dividual dimension (for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> army) but reality emerges<br />
through relationships, hence through multiple persons, and not through <strong>in</strong>dividuals. Da<br />
Matta concludes that <strong>the</strong> doma<strong>in</strong> House as <strong>the</strong> place <strong>of</strong> personal relations dom<strong>in</strong>ates <strong>the</strong><br />
doma<strong>in</strong> Street <strong>in</strong> Brazil (1991: 191). But despite this emphasis da Matta also illustrates<br />
<strong>the</strong> similarity <strong>of</strong> different movements that exist <strong>in</strong> Brazil through <strong>the</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong><br />
two or more cultural codes. The dialectic <strong>of</strong> two bipolar oppositions House and Street<br />
toge<strong>the</strong>r with <strong>the</strong> contradictory ideals equality and hierarchy are <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>the</strong> basic<br />
elements <strong>of</strong> Brazilian society (da Matta 1991: 264–6).<br />
His observations about Brazil lead da Matta to general remarks about Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American space. Analogous to his analysis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival, da Matta values <strong>the</strong><br />
importance <strong>of</strong> elements less than <strong>the</strong> relationship between <strong>the</strong>m (1995: 284). Like<br />
Zires he looks at exist<strong>in</strong>g tendencies between cultural elements, though unlike Zires<br />
he does so without ignor<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> specific characteristics <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural <strong>in</strong>stitutions.<br />
Here one can observe <strong>the</strong> strength <strong>of</strong> ethnographic studies but also <strong>the</strong>ir weakness.<br />
Based on ethnographic work da Matta analyses Lat<strong>in</strong> American culture or, more<br />
precisely, <strong>the</strong> urban culture <strong>of</strong> Brazil, because <strong>the</strong> dichotomy between House and<br />
Street can be applied only to urban contexts. Try<strong>in</strong>g to transfer his model to o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American regions, particularly rural areas with a predom<strong>in</strong>antly <strong>in</strong>digenous<br />
or Afro-American population, already reveals a weakness. His model also excludes<br />
<strong>the</strong> outsider, for <strong>in</strong>stance people who do not participate <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival for various<br />
reasons. They also belong to <strong>the</strong> cultural environment <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival enthusiasts,<br />
despite be<strong>in</strong>g absent. I also miss <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> socially deprived people who do<br />
not ga<strong>in</strong> from social relations but always lose <strong>in</strong> cross talks with a socially superior<br />
person. Da Matta discusses <strong>the</strong> rule ‘Você sabe com quem está falando?!’ referr<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to various situations but always from a socially superior perspective, such as his<br />
own as an educated pr<strong>of</strong>essor. He ignores <strong>the</strong> position <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> policeman who has<br />
to withdraw, humiliated. Da Matta always argues with ideal social concepts; and<br />
though he illustrates <strong>the</strong>m with many stories, <strong>the</strong>y do not address every issue, such<br />
as those concern<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ongo<strong>in</strong>g change <strong>of</strong> class and gender boundaries.<br />
Even his study <strong>of</strong> heroes refers to legendary popular heroes, whose stories belong<br />
to <strong>the</strong> narrative memory, and fictional characters <strong>of</strong> Brazilian literature, and not to<br />
<strong>the</strong> biographies <strong>of</strong> real people. None<strong>the</strong>less, this also illustrates da Matta’s special<br />
perspective. As dist<strong>in</strong>ct from his colleagues <strong>in</strong> cultural <strong>the</strong>ory da Matta does not<br />
regard Brazilian society as an accumulation <strong>of</strong> consumers. Without even <strong>the</strong> slightest<br />
criticism <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> products <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural <strong>in</strong>dustry da Matta acknowledges <strong>the</strong>m as a<br />
means <strong>of</strong> social articulation. Bestsellers and cheap reproductions <strong>of</strong> art allow different<br />
degrees <strong>of</strong> coord<strong>in</strong>ation and attachment between groups, categories, social segments
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 129<br />
and even nations (see da Matta 1991: 244). His perspective is <strong>the</strong>refore totally<br />
different from that <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>orists I have presented, because he is <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong><br />
‘<strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> text’. Da Matta demands <strong>the</strong> question<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a work and<br />
de-mystify<strong>in</strong>g, de-alienat<strong>in</strong>g, or uproot<strong>in</strong>g … from its central position <strong>in</strong> a given culture<br />
or society – ei<strong>the</strong>r as an object <strong>of</strong> unbridled consumption, or as a paradigmatic element<br />
associated with <strong>the</strong> authorities and power, or as <strong>the</strong> accepted, unquestionable construction<br />
for a given moment <strong>of</strong> history <strong>of</strong> that social body. (1991: 243)<br />
He illustrates this concept <strong>in</strong> his own studies about <strong>the</strong> social practices that he analyses<br />
with regard to specific historical moments or specific social constructions (may I<br />
rem<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong> reader <strong>of</strong> his <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rule that lays <strong>in</strong>side <strong>the</strong> phrase ‘Você sabe<br />
com quem está falando?!’ referr<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> separation between person and <strong>in</strong>dividual<br />
and to <strong>the</strong> abolition <strong>of</strong> slavery) or describes <strong>the</strong>m chronologically with reference to<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir central position (as seen <strong>in</strong> his carnival study). Though <strong>the</strong> adaptation <strong>of</strong> his<br />
anthropological method to o<strong>the</strong>r areas is possible, it is very difficult to adapt his model<br />
to o<strong>the</strong>r cultures because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> limited localization <strong>of</strong> urban contexts. Though he<br />
speaks about Brazil and Brazilian society, da Matta really describes only Rio de Janeiro<br />
and ignores even its surround<strong>in</strong>gs, <strong>the</strong> Nor<strong>the</strong>ast <strong>of</strong> Brazil. The <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> Brazilian<br />
emigrants would be unth<strong>in</strong>kable. It is still possible to <strong>in</strong>terpret <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brooklyn accord<strong>in</strong>g to da Matta’s structures (<strong>the</strong> community is organized around<br />
a core lead<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> egalitarian mass <strong>of</strong> believers, <strong>the</strong> code <strong>of</strong> behaviour is <strong>in</strong>spired by<br />
<strong>the</strong> social roles <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> House doma<strong>in</strong>, and even <strong>the</strong> dialectic between <strong>the</strong> two codes<br />
is visible <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> community as illustrated above). But <strong>the</strong> community symbolizes<br />
only one aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious plurality and without <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> borders, <strong>the</strong><br />
outsiders, it would be impossible to understand <strong>the</strong> church.<br />
But, despite my critique, I do not challenge da Matta’s merit. His model <strong>of</strong>fers an<br />
important <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> Brazilian culture. The bipolar opposition <strong>of</strong> House and<br />
Street is discovered <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r parts <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> Mediterranean, but never<br />
so well described. The particularity <strong>of</strong> his work is <strong>the</strong> vehemence with which he traces<br />
<strong>the</strong> so-called Brazilian dilemma back to his model. He embraces <strong>the</strong> material and<br />
decorates his <strong>the</strong>ory with many details and stories. His research demonstrates a way<br />
to look at heterogeneous national cultures from an anthropological perspective.<br />
Third Scene: A Festival <strong>in</strong> Honour <strong>of</strong> Erzulie<br />
In September 1998 I was <strong>in</strong>vited for <strong>the</strong> first time to a Vodou ceremony. A colleague,<br />
a musical anthropologist, who later became a friend, welcomed my jo<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g. The<br />
ceremony was <strong>in</strong> Long Island, and I was very curious (and a bit nervous) about what<br />
awaited me. The journey was a rite <strong>of</strong> passage for me. I sat <strong>in</strong> a very small car, full<br />
<strong>of</strong> people and musical <strong>in</strong>struments, and listened to endless stories about people I<br />
would soon meet, about people who have left Vodou and jo<strong>in</strong>ed o<strong>the</strong>r very different<br />
religions, about Vodou <strong>in</strong> general and Vodou from a personal perspective and many<br />
more, and very private, details <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lives <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> people <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> car. It ra<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong><br />
whole time and <strong>the</strong> journey seemed to be endless. One member <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> group seemed<br />
to me to be a trickster, always try<strong>in</strong>g to challenge and assess me. Ano<strong>the</strong>r member,
130<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
a musician who performed not only at Vodou but also at Santería ceremonies, spoke<br />
no Kreyòl so <strong>the</strong> conversation was held <strong>in</strong> English most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> time.<br />
When we arrived at <strong>the</strong> house <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mambo M. <strong>in</strong> Long Island – a small house <strong>in</strong><br />
a quiet neighbourhood – some o<strong>the</strong>r musicians were already <strong>the</strong>re, and <strong>the</strong> ceremony<br />
had just started. The temple was <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> basement <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> house. A group <strong>of</strong> people<br />
sat <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> altar, mostly women dressed <strong>in</strong> white, and sang <strong>the</strong> first prayers.<br />
The mambo had a small bell <strong>in</strong> her hand and led <strong>the</strong> prayers. I smelt <strong>in</strong>cense. The<br />
musicians with whom I had arrived immediately started to play.<br />
At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g only a few people sat on chairs but after some time <strong>the</strong> basement<br />
was full <strong>of</strong> people, ma<strong>in</strong>ly Haitians and Haitian-Americans, descendents <strong>of</strong> Haitian<br />
migrants. More chairs were brought <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> room, and I was glad <strong>of</strong> my chair. No<br />
one seemed to take any notice <strong>of</strong> my presence; I was accepted as a friend.<br />
As <strong>in</strong> every Vodou ceremony this one was divided <strong>in</strong>to several sections. Only<br />
<strong>the</strong> length <strong>of</strong> each section varies, depend<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> spirit <strong>the</strong> community wants to<br />
honour with <strong>the</strong> ceremony. This ceremony <strong>in</strong> Long Island was <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lwa<br />
Erzulie, who belongs to <strong>the</strong> Rada nation; hence <strong>the</strong> section for Rada was longer than<br />
<strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r ceremonies.<br />
The mambo led <strong>the</strong> whole ceremony with her voice though she was supported by<br />
some members <strong>of</strong> her temple and o<strong>the</strong>rs <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> audience, all dressed <strong>in</strong> white. After<br />
<strong>the</strong> prayers followed <strong>the</strong> songs for Legba, <strong>the</strong> trickster who opens <strong>the</strong> doors and has to<br />
be honoured at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> every ceremony; o<strong>the</strong>rwise <strong>the</strong> spirits will not come.<br />
Then <strong>the</strong> small chairs <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> altar were carried away and <strong>the</strong> next part began.<br />
The music changed <strong>in</strong>to Rada style. A lwa from <strong>the</strong> Rada nation approached some<br />
members who at first resisted <strong>the</strong> possession, which was visible <strong>in</strong> convulsive body<br />
movements. Every time a spirit tries to mount a human body, <strong>the</strong> human soul fights<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st it until it surrenders to <strong>the</strong> powerful force <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> lwa. Convulsive movements<br />
are <strong>in</strong>terpreted as a sign <strong>of</strong> an approach<strong>in</strong>g lwa. Hence, every time a person behaved<br />
<strong>in</strong> such a way, members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple came to look after this person so that <strong>the</strong><br />
human body (as well as o<strong>the</strong>r people) would not be harmed by <strong>the</strong>se movements.<br />
Then Erzulie, <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> spirit at this even<strong>in</strong>g, announced her arrival. In her honour<br />
<strong>the</strong>re was a statue <strong>of</strong> Our Lady <strong>of</strong> Lourdes on <strong>the</strong> altar toge<strong>the</strong>r with her favourite<br />
objects: perfume, sweets, biscuits and more. After a while she mounted <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> mambo, who fell on <strong>the</strong> floor. Some men carried her body carefully to a small<br />
chamber where she was dressed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> favourite colours <strong>of</strong> Erzulie. Wear<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> new<br />
clo<strong>the</strong>s Erzulie made her grand entrance. She seduced <strong>the</strong> men, greeted some women<br />
casually and held court.<br />
More than two hours passed. The air became sticky, full <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>cense, perfume and<br />
alcohol that were spread <strong>in</strong> all four directions. Because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> neighbours who had<br />
already called <strong>the</strong> police more than once, <strong>the</strong> w<strong>in</strong>dows rema<strong>in</strong>ed closed, though <strong>in</strong><br />
Haiti <strong>the</strong> whole neighbourhood would be <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong> such a ceremony. Once <strong>in</strong> a<br />
while <strong>the</strong> mambo urged <strong>the</strong> participants to jo<strong>in</strong> her and to support her with s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
The next part was <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Nago nation. People who were dressed <strong>in</strong><br />
white changed <strong>in</strong>to red clo<strong>the</strong>s. Aga<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mambo was mounted, this<br />
time by Ogou who immediately received a red bandana, a machete and a cigar. Ogou<br />
presents himself as be<strong>in</strong>g very aggressive, very ‘male’. A young Haitian-American
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 131<br />
woman who wanted to attract attention with charm<strong>in</strong>g movements failed to do so <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> light <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ance <strong>of</strong> Ogou.<br />
After a d<strong>in</strong>ner break <strong>the</strong> celebration cont<strong>in</strong>ued with <strong>the</strong> Petro section, a very<br />
colourful experience. The lwa appeared collectively and not <strong>in</strong>dividually. The<br />
mambo mixed several <strong>in</strong>gredients that were already prepared on <strong>the</strong> altar <strong>in</strong>to a large<br />
bowl with water (parts <strong>of</strong> grilled pork, cake, beverages, fruits, sugar, eggs, sweets,<br />
and more) and smeared it as a bless<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> arms <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> participants, sometimes on<br />
<strong>the</strong> whole upper part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> body.<br />
The last part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> night was dedicated to Gédé, <strong>the</strong> master <strong>of</strong> death and new<br />
beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>gs. This part was <strong>the</strong> funniest. People made jokes, <strong>the</strong>y laughed and drank.<br />
But Gédé also demanded money and attention. The ceremony ended at approximately<br />
5 a.m., at dawn. The mambo was still mounted by Gédé and handed out pieces <strong>of</strong><br />
cake to <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> her temple who were still present. As we started to leave,<br />
and I approached <strong>the</strong> mambo to thank her, I was told to be careful because it was still<br />
Gédé and not <strong>the</strong> mambo.<br />
The mambo is <strong>the</strong> central figure at <strong>the</strong> ceremony. While she was possessed, it<br />
was possible to consult her, or more precisely, <strong>the</strong> lwa who had mounted her body.<br />
Though o<strong>the</strong>r members <strong>of</strong> her temple also became possessed, <strong>the</strong> mambo was <strong>the</strong><br />
ma<strong>in</strong> character who led <strong>the</strong> whole ceremony with her voice, even when her body<br />
was mounted. She paid attention to every detail, gave orders to her assistants and<br />
demanded <strong>the</strong> support <strong>of</strong> all participants. Some weeks later I met her at ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
ceremony, this time on stage. Though she participates <strong>in</strong> performances, her ma<strong>in</strong> aim<br />
is <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> her own temple. She would like to establish a larger permanent<br />
community with more members who would support her better dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ceremonies.<br />
At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ceremony, after nearly eight hours, she was physically exhausted.<br />
Even I felt at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> my strength, and I was just observ<strong>in</strong>g and listen<strong>in</strong>g. The<br />
air, <strong>the</strong> many and diverse impressions, <strong>the</strong> loud music – all had an impact on me. I<br />
became silent and went home.<br />
Créolité and O<strong>the</strong>r Complex Cultural Constructs<br />
In this section I will present <strong>the</strong>ories developed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> as well as<br />
<strong>the</strong>ories developed about <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong>. At <strong>the</strong> end I will expla<strong>in</strong> some<br />
anthropological models that have developed <strong>in</strong> order to understand complex, ma<strong>in</strong>ly<br />
urban, cultures.<br />
Créolité and cultura criolla<br />
In order to understand <strong>the</strong> different approaches to <strong>the</strong> debate about creolization one<br />
has to look at <strong>the</strong> roots <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> term. Dur<strong>in</strong>g Spanish colonial times Creole or, more<br />
precisely, criollo <strong>in</strong> Spanish, symbolized an ethnic and social category: <strong>the</strong> descendents<br />
<strong>of</strong> Spanish parents born <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonies <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong> Spa<strong>in</strong> as <strong>the</strong>ir parents had been.<br />
Despite be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> ‘pure’ Spanish decent <strong>the</strong>y were legally and socially discrim<strong>in</strong>ated<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st and could not take over, for <strong>in</strong>stance, certa<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong>fices and positions. Hence<br />
<strong>the</strong>y could not ga<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> high prestige <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir parents. Consequently, <strong>the</strong>y supported
132<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dependence movement aga<strong>in</strong>st Spa<strong>in</strong> and <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end ‘freed’ <strong>the</strong> colonies from<br />
Spanish rule, only to fill those positions formerly occupied by Spanish people.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> French colonies creole became a racial category for descendents <strong>of</strong> parents<br />
<strong>of</strong> mixed racial orig<strong>in</strong>. In <strong>the</strong> colonial hierarchy Creoles were ranked between White<br />
and Black, hence <strong>of</strong>ten between masters and slaves; <strong>the</strong>y became <strong>the</strong> symbol <strong>of</strong><br />
mixture, analogous with mestizos <strong>in</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>ental Lat<strong>in</strong> America. This specific<br />
connotation even <strong>in</strong>fluenced l<strong>in</strong>guistic discourse about <strong>the</strong> creole language, a mixture<br />
<strong>of</strong> French and o<strong>the</strong>r languages, with <strong>the</strong> result that Creoles are sometime identified<br />
with <strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> a Creole language. 28<br />
The different derivations still lead to confusion with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> debate about creolization<br />
and créolité as a cultural term. While some scholars understand creolization as a<br />
l<strong>in</strong>guistic term, o<strong>the</strong>rs use it <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> sense <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Spanish colonial period and aga<strong>in</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>rs as a synonym for mixture or hybridity. 29 As a clarification André-Marcel<br />
d’Ans looks at <strong>the</strong> etymological orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> term and refers to <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> term creare<br />
(1997: 29). The French adjective créole describes someth<strong>in</strong>g and someone accord<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to its place <strong>of</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>, place <strong>of</strong> birth, outside autochthon conditions, hence Blancs<br />
créole are White people who are not born <strong>in</strong> Europe, and Noirs créole are Black<br />
people not born <strong>in</strong> Africa (D’Ans 1997: 29). Though <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g still rema<strong>in</strong>s<br />
diffuse, it becomes clear that Creole always <strong>in</strong>dicates a pejorative connotation with<br />
respect to a superior category – whe<strong>the</strong>r European culture or a biological or l<strong>in</strong>guistic<br />
‘purity’. Créolité is <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>of</strong>ten described <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> context <strong>of</strong> a plantation, and hence<br />
with reference to slavery, because it was <strong>the</strong> place where different groups met <strong>in</strong> an<br />
<strong>in</strong>egalitarian structure (Bonniol 1997: 25). Accord<strong>in</strong>g to this def<strong>in</strong>ition créolité never<br />
exists without cultural and social bondage (see Benoist 1997: 335).<br />
In <strong>the</strong> debate about creolization <strong>the</strong>re are also voices that want to separate <strong>the</strong> process<br />
<strong>of</strong> creolization from its violent orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> order to connect it to positive connotations<br />
because it is a fundamental <strong>New</strong> World experience. Jean Bernabé, Patrick Chamoiseau<br />
and Raphaël Confiant, for <strong>in</strong>stance, beg<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir Éloge de la Créolité with <strong>the</strong> proud<br />
statement: ‘Nei<strong>the</strong>r Europeans, nor Africans, nor Asians, we proclaim ourselves Creoles’<br />
(1993: 75). The three authors <strong>in</strong>vestigate francophone créolité <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir book or, more<br />
precisely, <strong>the</strong> Mart<strong>in</strong>ique School <strong>of</strong> créolité (Condé 1998: 106), and see Creole identity<br />
as <strong>the</strong> cement <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture. With reference to Édouard Glissant, <strong>the</strong>y demand a<br />
turn away from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> orientation towards France and a return to remember<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir own Creole culture, which <strong>the</strong>y def<strong>in</strong>e as ‘<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>teractional or transactional<br />
aggregate <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, European, African, Asian, and Levant<strong>in</strong>e cultural elements,<br />
united on <strong>the</strong> same soil by <strong>the</strong> yoke <strong>of</strong> history’ (Bernabé, Chamoiseau and Confiant<br />
1993: 87). In this context <strong>the</strong>y dist<strong>in</strong>guish between américanité, antillanité and créolité.<br />
28 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, d’Ans 1997 about <strong>the</strong> question ‘Créoles sans langue créole’.<br />
29 At a conference Eva Martha Eckkrammer expla<strong>in</strong>ed that <strong>the</strong> term creole was used<br />
for <strong>the</strong> first time <strong>in</strong> 1563. Despite its dubious orig<strong>in</strong> she referred to an early connection to <strong>the</strong><br />
slave trade because children <strong>of</strong> freed slaves were labelled Creole <strong>in</strong> Brazil (paper presented<br />
at <strong>the</strong> conference ‘Alte Welt, neue Welt – Kulturkontakt und Kreolisierung’ <strong>in</strong> May 1999<br />
<strong>in</strong> Berl<strong>in</strong>; for <strong>the</strong> later expanded published version, see Eckkrammer 2003). The vehement<br />
debate between Laënnec Hurbon, Léon-François H<strong>of</strong>fmann, Mervyn Alleyne, Michael Dash,<br />
Frank Mart<strong>in</strong>us Arion and Antonio Benítez Rojo at this conference illustrated to me once<br />
aga<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> importance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> creolization debate and its many def<strong>in</strong>itions.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 133<br />
While <strong>the</strong>y characterize américanité as progressive adaptation without real <strong>in</strong>teraction,<br />
<strong>the</strong>y emphasize <strong>the</strong> aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>teraction <strong>in</strong> créolité, though <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>teraction was not<br />
harmonious but violent with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> context <strong>of</strong> plantation economy. The three authors, <strong>the</strong>n,<br />
characterize antillanité only as a geopolitical process that adapted without <strong>in</strong>teract<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
<strong>in</strong> a similar way to américanité. Bernabé, Chamoiseau and Confiant emphasize that<br />
<strong>the</strong> Creole population <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> has developed a double sense <strong>of</strong> solidarity: a<br />
geopolitical Antillean solidarity to all people <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> and a Creole solidarity<br />
to African, Asian and Polynesian people with a Creole aff<strong>in</strong>ity (1993: 29–33). Like<br />
Glissant, <strong>the</strong>y see <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> literature <strong>the</strong> most important expression <strong>of</strong> créolité because<br />
<strong>the</strong> discovery <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘real’ nature <strong>of</strong> créolité would be possible only <strong>in</strong> f<strong>in</strong>e art. They<br />
emphasize <strong>the</strong> oral character <strong>of</strong> Creole literature and reject <strong>the</strong> use <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> French language<br />
as colonial heritage. Danticat, <strong>the</strong> Haitian novelist whom I mentioned <strong>in</strong> Chapter 1,<br />
would not be classified as Creole because <strong>of</strong> her choice <strong>of</strong> language for publication.<br />
In contrast to <strong>the</strong> above, Kathleen Balutansky and Marie-Agnès Sourieau<br />
stress <strong>the</strong> endless transformation process <strong>of</strong> creolization that is underm<strong>in</strong>ed by<br />
academic and political efforts to search for its orig<strong>in</strong> or au<strong>the</strong>nticity. Creolization<br />
‘is thus def<strong>in</strong>ed as a syncretic process <strong>of</strong> transverse dynamics that endlessly reworks<br />
and transforms <strong>the</strong> cultural patterns <strong>of</strong> varied social and historical experiences<br />
and identities’ (Balutansky and Sourieau 1998: 3). Wilson Harris illustrates this<br />
transformation process with Legba, <strong>the</strong> Vodou lwa <strong>of</strong> cross<strong>in</strong>gs. Though his roots are<br />
unquestionably <strong>in</strong> Africa, Legba received his ambivalent Vodou character through<br />
<strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> creolization <strong>in</strong> Haiti. He is a comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> different roots ‘born<br />
<strong>of</strong> Haiti’s relationship to conservative, tribal Africa as well as to confused legacies<br />
<strong>of</strong> slave-own<strong>in</strong>g French landlords cheek by jowl, so to speak, with revolutionary,<br />
counterrevolutionary politics <strong>in</strong> France and <strong>the</strong> rise <strong>of</strong> Napoleonic dictatorship’<br />
(Harris 1998: 30). Only <strong>in</strong> Haiti did Legba become <strong>the</strong> figure with one leg who is old<br />
and yet without age, strong and weak, poor and rich at <strong>the</strong> same time, and provides<br />
a bridge between <strong>the</strong> two worlds, <strong>the</strong> material and <strong>the</strong> ‘unreal’.<br />
Similarly to Bernabé, Chamoiseau and Confiant, Ulf Hannerz also transfers <strong>the</strong><br />
concept <strong>of</strong> creolization to global processes. He considers Creole cultures – as Creole<br />
languages – ‘<strong>in</strong>tr<strong>in</strong>sically <strong>of</strong> mixed orig<strong>in</strong>, <strong>the</strong> confluence <strong>of</strong> two or more widely<br />
separate historical currents which <strong>in</strong>teract <strong>in</strong> what is basically a centre/periphery<br />
relationship’ (Hannerz 1992: 264). He argues that Creole cultures have grown over<br />
a long period <strong>of</strong> time, dur<strong>in</strong>g which <strong>the</strong>y have developed a degree <strong>of</strong> coherence.<br />
Creole cultures have an un<strong>in</strong>terrupted spectrum <strong>of</strong> forms <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>teraction that are<br />
visible and active toge<strong>the</strong>r with several historical sources <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> culture. On one side<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Creole cont<strong>in</strong>uum <strong>the</strong>re is <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre with <strong>the</strong> greatest prestige,<br />
and on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r side are a diverse number <strong>of</strong> cultural forms on <strong>the</strong> periphery. But <strong>the</strong><br />
cultural process <strong>of</strong> creolization has not only developed because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> pressure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
centre on <strong>the</strong> periphery – it is a creative <strong>in</strong>terplay:<br />
As languages have different dimensions such as grammar, phonology, and lexicon,<br />
and as creole languages are formed as unique comb<strong>in</strong>ations and creations out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>teraction between languages <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>se various dimensions, so creole cultures come<br />
out <strong>of</strong> multidimensional cultural encounters and can put th<strong>in</strong>gs toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> new ways.<br />
(Hannerz 1992: 265)
134<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
However, though Hannerz regards creolization as an abstract process <strong>of</strong> cultural<br />
contact, most scholars still discuss creolization with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. Even Bernabé,<br />
Chamoiseau and Confiant, who do not regard créolité as a geopolitical concept<br />
(1993: 29–32), always refer to <strong>the</strong> francophone <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir book, limit<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
Creole identity to a colonial one that focuses on France. A characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> debate<br />
about créolité is <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>the</strong> local reference. In <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> creolization most<br />
scholars emphasize <strong>the</strong> country <strong>in</strong> which history led <strong>the</strong> cultures toge<strong>the</strong>r because<br />
elements can receive a different mean<strong>in</strong>g when mixed toge<strong>the</strong>r. In this way <strong>the</strong><br />
particularity <strong>of</strong> specific islands is kept, though a critical po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> debate is <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>the</strong><br />
mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> plantation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> creation process. Though creolization is <strong>of</strong>ten localized<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> slavery, and hence on <strong>the</strong> plantation, it is also sometimes at its border.<br />
The plantation is <strong>the</strong> central characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> as a social-cultural unity<br />
(see M<strong>in</strong>tz 1966). In a similar way to Gilberto Freyre’s opposition <strong>of</strong> Master House and<br />
Slave Hut <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 30 <strong>the</strong> plantation symbolizes various aspects, from economy<br />
and labour system to religion and medic<strong>in</strong>e. None<strong>the</strong>less, M<strong>in</strong>tz’s presentation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> as a homogeneous region contradicts <strong>the</strong> efforts <strong>of</strong> representatives from<br />
specific islands to highlight <strong>the</strong> particularity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir island.<br />
The Cuban scholar Antonio Benítez Rojo tries to br<strong>in</strong>g both positions toge<strong>the</strong>r. He<br />
also regards <strong>the</strong> plantation as <strong>the</strong> central characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> but states at<br />
<strong>the</strong> same time that <strong>the</strong> plantation was differently structured on each island and dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
every historical period, hence also had a different <strong>in</strong>fluence on <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> specific culture. He argues that cultura criolla was developed at <strong>the</strong> borders <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
plantation economy, hence ‘where no sugar plantation existed’ (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 254).<br />
Accord<strong>in</strong>g to his perspective ‘criollos’, also named ‘people <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> earth’ appeared <strong>in</strong><br />
this society <strong>of</strong> free rules, separated by mounta<strong>in</strong>s from <strong>the</strong> colonial centres <strong>of</strong> power,<br />
under <strong>the</strong> jo<strong>in</strong>t <strong>in</strong>terests <strong>of</strong> smugglers (Benítez Rojo 1989: 18). This description<br />
illustrates that Benítez Rojo derives <strong>the</strong> term creolization from its orig<strong>in</strong>al mean<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>of</strong> ‘people <strong>of</strong> Spanish descent born <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonies’. Already liv<strong>in</strong>g with various<br />
restrictions, <strong>the</strong>y did not need to follow <strong>the</strong> strict orders <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mo<strong>the</strong>rland and<br />
could live much more freely than <strong>the</strong> pen<strong>in</strong>sulares, <strong>the</strong>ir Spanish neighbours born <strong>in</strong><br />
Spa<strong>in</strong>. In this sense <strong>the</strong> term criollo receives a mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> ‘a non-syn<strong>the</strong>tic mixture<br />
<strong>of</strong> cultures’ (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 254). Benítez Rojo uses <strong>the</strong> example <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Virgen<br />
de la caridad del cobre, <strong>the</strong> national patron <strong>of</strong> Cuba, to describe Creole cultural<br />
practice. The worship <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Virg<strong>in</strong> was <strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>in</strong>to Cuba <strong>in</strong> 1605. She comb<strong>in</strong>es<br />
Christian elements (Virgen de Illescas) with elements from <strong>the</strong> Ta<strong>in</strong>o religion (<strong>the</strong><br />
goddess Atabey or Atabex) as well as from <strong>the</strong> Yoruba religion (<strong>the</strong> godess Ochún).<br />
Each <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se three female entities already had a syncretistic nature because <strong>the</strong>y<br />
had developed from <strong>the</strong> mixture <strong>of</strong> various religious beliefs connected to <strong>the</strong> sea<br />
before <strong>the</strong>y <strong>the</strong>n merged toge<strong>the</strong>r and became <strong>the</strong> Virgen de la caridad del cobre, a<br />
goddess <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sea. None<strong>the</strong>less, despite <strong>the</strong> derivation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> specific elements that<br />
also exist separately, <strong>the</strong>re is no doubt, accord<strong>in</strong>g to Benítez Rojo, that <strong>the</strong> Virgen de<br />
la caridad del cobre is a pure Cuban figure <strong>of</strong> Mary who still is – <strong>in</strong> different degrees<br />
– <strong>of</strong> central importance for all Cubans (1989: xvi–xxi). Benítez Rojo regards <strong>the</strong><br />
30 Sylvia M. Schomburg-Scherff also characterizes <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> with <strong>the</strong> two social<br />
locations, master houses and slave huts (1999: 83–7).
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 135<br />
juxtaposition <strong>of</strong> equal parts and <strong>the</strong>ir constantly renewed <strong>in</strong>terweav<strong>in</strong>g as a typical<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> practice, which is manifested <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cuban religion Santería as well as <strong>in</strong><br />
Cuban literature (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 255) – and that repeats itself cont<strong>in</strong>uously as <strong>the</strong><br />
title <strong>of</strong> his ma<strong>in</strong> book La isla que se repite <strong>in</strong>dicates. It becomes obvious that Benítez<br />
Rojo challenges <strong>the</strong> characterization <strong>of</strong> creolization as process because ‘process’<br />
would <strong>in</strong>dicate progress, but creolization is, accord<strong>in</strong>g to him, ‘a discont<strong>in</strong>uous<br />
series <strong>of</strong> recurrences, <strong>of</strong> happen<strong>in</strong>gs, whose sole law is change’ (1998: 55).<br />
Benítez Rojo strictly separates his concept from Miguel Barnet who looks at<br />
<strong>the</strong> plantation as a form <strong>of</strong> melt<strong>in</strong>g pot (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 261); 31 he argues that <strong>the</strong><br />
location <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> production <strong>of</strong> new cultural <strong>in</strong>vention was not <strong>the</strong> plantation but <strong>the</strong><br />
copper m<strong>in</strong>e where <strong>the</strong> cult <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Virgen de la caridad del cobre started. Because he<br />
localizes <strong>the</strong> cultura criolla outside <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> plantation, and hence outside <strong>the</strong> place <strong>of</strong><br />
violent suppression and deculturation, he removes <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> from <strong>the</strong> ‘model <strong>of</strong><br />
discourse and anti-discourse, <strong>of</strong> repression and opposition’ and argues at <strong>the</strong> same<br />
time aga<strong>in</strong>st a syn<strong>the</strong>tic, homogeneous cultural concept (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 262). In <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> diverse experiences and perspectives clashed, mixed, crossed and created<br />
a kaleidoscopic or prismatic entity, a mosaic or patchwork (see Schomburg-Scherff<br />
1999: 261). Benítez Rojo argues that even <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> transculturation developed<br />
by his Cuban predecessor Fernando Ortiz <strong>in</strong> his book Contrapunteo cubano del tabaco<br />
y el azúcar (1940) one can f<strong>in</strong>d a perfect example <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultura criolla.<br />
Ortiz’s concept <strong>of</strong> transculturation can be regarded as an early contribution to<br />
<strong>the</strong> debate about <strong>the</strong> mixture <strong>of</strong> cultures. He described Cuban cultural history as<br />
a process <strong>of</strong> assimilation <strong>of</strong> European and African <strong>in</strong>fluences. Like Benítez Rojo,<br />
Ortiz connected this process to <strong>the</strong> tobacco <strong>in</strong>dustry <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> slave plantations.<br />
Tobacco becomes <strong>the</strong> po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong> reference outside <strong>the</strong> sugar plantations, hence <strong>the</strong><br />
place where social practices could be situated which were different from <strong>the</strong><br />
repressive, capitalistic sugar plantations (see H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 257). Ortiz <strong>the</strong>refore<br />
creates a dichotomy between sugar and tobacco, between suppression by slavery<br />
and creativity by acculturation. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Ortiz only <strong>the</strong> latter, <strong>the</strong> tobacco, was<br />
able to create Cuban identity by mix<strong>in</strong>g European and African elements toge<strong>the</strong>r.<br />
Hence cultural freedom <strong>of</strong> expression was possible only outside <strong>the</strong> slavery system<br />
(Ortiz 1993: 152–3). For Manuel Moreno Frag<strong>in</strong>als, who later elaborated Ortiz’s<br />
concept by describ<strong>in</strong>g a complex process <strong>of</strong> transculturation and deculturation<br />
(1984: 10), <strong>the</strong> sugar plantations even became a place <strong>of</strong> deculturation where <strong>the</strong><br />
African slaves had no opportunity to celebrate <strong>the</strong>ir cultural traditions.<br />
A totally different view is taken by <strong>the</strong> Mart<strong>in</strong>iquian scholar Edouard Glissant,<br />
who regards creolization from <strong>the</strong> plantation perspective: <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong><br />
suppression and uproot<strong>in</strong>g. Glissant argues that <strong>the</strong>re is no discours antillais<br />
outside <strong>the</strong> plantation. Even maroons, <strong>the</strong> runaway slaves, who are described as<br />
representatives <strong>of</strong> a counter-culture, stand <strong>in</strong> relation to <strong>the</strong> plantation, <strong>the</strong> place <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Creole culture (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 255, referr<strong>in</strong>g to Glissant 1981).<br />
Glissant construes his concept <strong>of</strong> diversity with reference to <strong>the</strong> experience <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>habitants <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, ma<strong>in</strong>ly <strong>the</strong> ‘deported’ and ‘imported’ persons, hence<br />
31 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> critique aga<strong>in</strong>st Barnet and his concept <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> plantation as<br />
location <strong>of</strong> cultural production <strong>in</strong> Benítez Rojo 1984.
136<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Arawaks, Caribs and African slaves. Glissant def<strong>in</strong>es creolization as this experience<br />
<strong>of</strong> diversity, a process unnoticed for a long time: ‘Creolization is not an uproot<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
a loss <strong>of</strong> sight, a suspension <strong>of</strong> be<strong>in</strong>g. Transience is not wander<strong>in</strong>g. <strong>Diversity</strong> is not<br />
dilution’ (Glissant 1995: 269). Glissant dist<strong>in</strong>guishes creolization from métissage<br />
because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> new elements. Glissant refers <strong>in</strong> his def<strong>in</strong>ition to <strong>the</strong><br />
l<strong>in</strong>guistic discourse and <strong>the</strong>n dist<strong>in</strong>guishes Creole languages from pidg<strong>in</strong>: while<br />
pidg<strong>in</strong> plays with elements from a language, <strong>the</strong> Creole language always works<br />
with<strong>in</strong> two languages or with elements from two different language fields. As <strong>the</strong><br />
product <strong>of</strong> a syn<strong>the</strong>sis every Creole language is <strong>the</strong>refore a new form <strong>of</strong> expression, a<br />
supplement to its two or more roots. Transferred to <strong>the</strong> cultural process, creolization<br />
implies <strong>the</strong> unpredictable, not a direct syn<strong>the</strong>sis but résultantes (results), ‘someth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
else, ano<strong>the</strong>r way’ (Glissant 1995: 269–70).<br />
Glissant limits <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> creolization to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, Brazil and parts <strong>of</strong><br />
Middle America, to areas where <strong>the</strong> plantation was a central element; <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r areas<br />
<strong>of</strong> America, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, diverse ethnic groups lived side by side or<br />
fought for survival. The problem <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>habitants <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> plantations was ‘to give<br />
legitimacy to this new dimension <strong>of</strong> human nature <strong>the</strong>y constitute, <strong>the</strong> dimension <strong>of</strong><br />
exchange and mutual change, <strong>in</strong> a world <strong>in</strong> which apar<strong>the</strong>id and racism still rule and<br />
dom<strong>in</strong>ate’ (Glissant 1995: 270). Glissant’s argument is based on bipolar oppositions<br />
(see H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 258–9), such as his opposition <strong>of</strong> Creole culture with <strong>the</strong> elitist<br />
French group. While <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American postmodern debate <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly dissolves<br />
<strong>the</strong> opposition between centre and periphery with<strong>in</strong>, Glissant emphasizes it. He does<br />
not regard identity <strong>of</strong> cultures as an ontological category but as identité-relation<br />
construed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> exchange <strong>of</strong> cultures (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 259). Creolization is for<br />
Glissant one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> present-day goals while <strong>the</strong> utopian ideal consists <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> open idea<br />
<strong>of</strong> identity, <strong>the</strong> annulment <strong>of</strong> old categories (1995: 271). None<strong>the</strong>less creolization<br />
serves a purpose, Glissant <strong>in</strong>sists, because it creates someth<strong>in</strong>g new and helps ‘to<br />
liberate Columbus from himself’:<br />
Try<strong>in</strong>g to realize <strong>the</strong> absolute unity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> universe (mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> earth) and <strong>of</strong> mank<strong>in</strong>d<br />
(mean<strong>in</strong>g Western man’s concept <strong>of</strong> mank<strong>in</strong>d), Columbus found irreducible diversity<br />
surviv<strong>in</strong>g under massacre. Let us help him achieve <strong>the</strong> voyage. Columbus will be whom<br />
and what we will be able to do and to create <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> field <strong>of</strong> nonsectarian, nonmetaphysical,<br />
and nonabsolute communication and relation. (1995: 274)<br />
It becomes obvious that Glissant always argues with<strong>in</strong> a temporal cont<strong>in</strong>uum. He<br />
wants to improve <strong>the</strong> world, while Benítez Rojo does not want to create a new vision<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> future, but <strong>of</strong>fers ano<strong>the</strong>r way <strong>of</strong> read<strong>in</strong>g Creole cultures. This is why Benítez<br />
Rojo localizes his remarks <strong>in</strong> a place <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong> time (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 261–2).<br />
Despite <strong>the</strong> differ<strong>in</strong>g approaches, both concepts regard culture as ‘anti-centric<br />
structures’ without a firm order, but based on an <strong>in</strong>terconnection <strong>of</strong> various orders,<br />
which lead to new, unpredictable phenomena (see H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 252).<br />
The diversity <strong>of</strong> creolization, which makes its model so fasc<strong>in</strong>at<strong>in</strong>g, limits its<br />
adaptation to o<strong>the</strong>r regions. The scenic description <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Vodou ceremony can easily<br />
be characterized as Creole (not only because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> language). Elements are comb<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
that receive <strong>the</strong>ir mean<strong>in</strong>g only <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> ritual context. The sweets for Erzulie and <strong>the</strong>
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 137<br />
music only become Haitian elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ritual practice dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ceremony.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> event took place <strong>in</strong> Long Island and not <strong>in</strong> Haiti. The performance<br />
created <strong>the</strong> atmosphere <strong>of</strong> a place <strong>in</strong> Haiti, and <strong>the</strong> participants forgot for a while <strong>the</strong><br />
hostile environment. But this place <strong>in</strong> Haiti does not exist for <strong>the</strong> participants <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
ceremony except on an imag<strong>in</strong>ary level. It became obvious at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ceremony<br />
when we stepped out <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> cold dawn <strong>in</strong> Long Island that it was not real. Even<br />
<strong>the</strong> vision <strong>of</strong> an imag<strong>in</strong>ary ‘Haitian place’ is a transfer because not everyone dreams<br />
<strong>of</strong> Haiti or <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. The <strong>Caribbean</strong> does not consist <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> old plantations<br />
that existed on each island to a different degree; and Vodou, too, is no longer<br />
connected to simple images and stereotypes. Vodou is practised <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> not<br />
only by Creole people but also by Anglo-Americans, Jamaicans, African-Americans<br />
and many o<strong>the</strong>rs whose religious beliefs <strong>in</strong>fluence and change it. The concept <strong>of</strong><br />
créolité is not ready to <strong>in</strong>corporate <strong>the</strong>se new <strong>in</strong>fluences and developments. Despite<br />
its flexibility, creolization ignores <strong>the</strong> outsiders, <strong>the</strong> foreigners and <strong>the</strong> neighbours,<br />
because <strong>the</strong> perspective is still on <strong>the</strong> ‘plantation’, <strong>the</strong> descendents <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> slave<br />
economy. But tourists own <strong>the</strong> master houses today and have replaced <strong>the</strong> former<br />
owners (Schomburg-Scherff 1999: 106–13). In this sense religious performances on<br />
stage, dance workshops and o<strong>the</strong>r performances belong to <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions that<br />
are no longer restricted to a homogeneous ethnic group.<br />
Urban Cultural Models <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Context <strong>of</strong> Creolization<br />
After <strong>the</strong> presentation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural <strong>the</strong>oretical debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>the</strong> question <strong>of</strong> how to study cultural processes <strong>in</strong> urban contexts arises.<br />
Even Ulf Hannerz mentions <strong>the</strong> limitations <strong>of</strong> cultural studies <strong>in</strong> cities, ma<strong>in</strong>ly because<br />
<strong>of</strong> ‘human mobility’. The openness <strong>of</strong> urban systems, one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> characteristics <strong>of</strong><br />
cities, makes <strong>the</strong>m fragmented and vulnerable so that one should not limit an <strong>in</strong>vestigation<br />
about cultural complexity to one place (Hannerz 1992: 215–16). Already small groups<br />
such as <strong>the</strong> Vodou temple <strong>in</strong> Long Island rema<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>comprehensible without a reference<br />
to Port-au-Pr<strong>in</strong>ce; religious communities <strong>of</strong> migrants cannot be limited to one location.<br />
In this sense Spielmann states that social location can also be abstract, for <strong>in</strong>stance<br />
when it consists <strong>of</strong> a group <strong>of</strong> urban citizens liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> a space between two places, <strong>in</strong><br />
a transnational community. Similarly to <strong>the</strong> social place ‘<strong>City</strong>’ this space between two<br />
places can also be described as a moment <strong>of</strong> cultural disparity <strong>in</strong> which global signs and<br />
cultural elements <strong>of</strong> local rooms and systems meet (Spielmann 1994a: 120–21).<br />
Despite his challenge to <strong>the</strong> limitation <strong>of</strong> concrete places, Hannerz looks,<br />
none<strong>the</strong>less, at three cities <strong>in</strong> different historical periods when <strong>the</strong>y became <strong>the</strong><br />
location <strong>of</strong> a production <strong>of</strong> remarkable cultural diversity (Vienna at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century, Calcutta dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Bengal Renaissance <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century<br />
and San Francisco <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1950s). A common characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> three cities is,<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to Hannerz, <strong>the</strong> openness <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> urban cultural processes that is visible<br />
on different levels. Besides <strong>in</strong>tensive contacts between each <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cities with o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
systems <strong>the</strong> openness is created by an imported cultural heterogeneity, hence <strong>the</strong> strong<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> numerous immigrants from <strong>the</strong> outside. In contrast to Robert Redfield<br />
and Milton B. S<strong>in</strong>ger who <strong>in</strong> 1954 dist<strong>in</strong>guished two categories <strong>of</strong> cities – cities
138<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
with a homogeneous tradition and cities with a heterogeneous tradition – Hannerz<br />
recognized only cities <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> second category because cities are <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly formed<br />
by heterogeneous immigrants and not by <strong>the</strong> environment (Redfield and S<strong>in</strong>ger 1954:<br />
59, Hannerz 1992: 198). The particularity <strong>of</strong> cities is not only <strong>the</strong>ir diversity but<br />
also <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternal openness that cont<strong>in</strong>uously <strong>of</strong>fers new opportunities for serendipity.<br />
One f<strong>in</strong>ds someth<strong>in</strong>g without look<strong>in</strong>g for it because one is always surrounded by<br />
it <strong>in</strong> a city. This creates a relatively easy availability <strong>of</strong> cultural <strong>in</strong>terfaces (see<br />
Hannerz 1992: 203). This special form <strong>of</strong> creativity that orig<strong>in</strong>ates through <strong>the</strong><br />
encounter <strong>of</strong> different perspectives causes <strong>the</strong> dynamism <strong>of</strong> urban cultural processes.<br />
‘Taken-for-grantedness is <strong>in</strong> large part made impossible, opposition leads to<br />
detoxification, perspectives are sharpened’ (Hannerz 1992: 213). A characteristic <strong>of</strong><br />
cultural complexity is <strong>the</strong>refore that <strong>the</strong> borders between sections cannot be def<strong>in</strong>ed<br />
or even become porous. Hannerz <strong>the</strong>refore challenges <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> world as<br />
a mosaic composed <strong>of</strong> separate pieces with hard, well-def<strong>in</strong>ed corners. Cultural<br />
<strong>in</strong>terfaces <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly represent <strong>the</strong> world so that <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> cultures dissolves<br />
because ‘<strong>the</strong> entities we rout<strong>in</strong>ely call cultures are becom<strong>in</strong>g more like subcultures<br />
with<strong>in</strong> this wider entity, with all that this suggests <strong>in</strong> terms <strong>of</strong> fuzzy boundaries and<br />
more or less arbitrary delimitation <strong>of</strong> analytical units’ (Hannerz 1992: 218). Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American cities such as São Paulo <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1920s can also be characterized by <strong>the</strong> same<br />
k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> ‘cross-fertilization’ between different expressive forms that turn everyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
upside down and create more penetrability between class and gender borders. 32<br />
Confronted by <strong>the</strong> liquidation <strong>of</strong> units described by Hannerz I use a different<br />
approach. Localiz<strong>in</strong>g cultural <strong>the</strong>oretical studies <strong>in</strong> ethnographic research not<br />
only leads to <strong>the</strong> annulment <strong>of</strong> strictly def<strong>in</strong>ed borders but also enables <strong>the</strong> use<br />
<strong>of</strong> central study units. Instead <strong>of</strong> extract<strong>in</strong>g details for an analytical purpose, <strong>the</strong><br />
choice <strong>of</strong> elements will rema<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> hands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> actors <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> culture. It is possible<br />
to <strong>in</strong>vestigate <strong>the</strong> complex and sometimes contradictory simultaneity <strong>of</strong> human<br />
possibilities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> postmodern era with stories, languages, lifestyles <strong>of</strong> different<br />
social groups, experiences, hopes, aspirations and discourses (see Stienen 1995: 5).<br />
I focus on <strong>the</strong> religious discourse. None<strong>the</strong>less, an important aspect <strong>of</strong> Hannerz’s<br />
work is <strong>the</strong> characterization <strong>of</strong> complex cultures through <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>in</strong>terfaces, hence<br />
through <strong>the</strong> creative exchange between different systems.<br />
Only casually does Hannerz mention <strong>the</strong> impact <strong>of</strong> urban complexity on national<br />
societies. Though he discusses <strong>the</strong> question <strong>of</strong> what cultures characterize on <strong>the</strong><br />
whole, and <strong>in</strong>sists that ethnic groups do not consist <strong>of</strong> small, autonomous units,<br />
he does not <strong>of</strong>fer an approach to <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> cultures <strong>of</strong> complex societies. His<br />
‘macro-anthropology <strong>of</strong> culture’ conta<strong>in</strong>s only <strong>the</strong> statement that cultures can be<br />
characterized downscale through concrete roots and upscale through an <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g<br />
diversity (Hannerz 1992: 18–28). In this context <strong>the</strong> miss<strong>in</strong>g debate about<br />
postmodernism is remarkable. After challeng<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> stereotype <strong>of</strong> a global village<br />
and <strong>the</strong> postmodern reduction <strong>of</strong> ‘Zeitgeist’, he does not mention <strong>the</strong> postmodern<br />
debate that he limits to Western cultures at all. He totally ignores <strong>the</strong> different<br />
developments <strong>of</strong> postmodernism outside Europe and North America, <strong>the</strong> diversity<br />
<strong>of</strong> which should be <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>terest to him as an anthropologist. The metropolises outside<br />
32 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> description <strong>of</strong> São Paulo <strong>in</strong> Spielmann 1994a: 115–18.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 139<br />
Europe are <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>ks between a Eurocentric perspective and <strong>the</strong> local particularities<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se movements. They also have important significance for <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong><br />
national identity as da Matta’s analysis <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> carnival illustrates. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> struggle<br />
for <strong>in</strong>dependence <strong>the</strong> national consciousness was construed based on rural tradition,<br />
ignor<strong>in</strong>g cities (Freyre’s construction <strong>of</strong> brasilidade would be an example <strong>of</strong> this<br />
movement). Today urban centres take over <strong>the</strong> central role <strong>of</strong> construct<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> nation<br />
though sometimes still with <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> rural traditions. In this sense a nation<br />
becomes, as Daus writes with reference to Diego Rivera, ‘a dream <strong>of</strong> a late Sunday<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Park Alameda’ (1995: 72, my translation). The tamed nature <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> urban<br />
centres becomes <strong>the</strong> symbol <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> rural h<strong>in</strong>terland without which no city can exist.<br />
The narrow connections between countryside and city are also visible <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
context <strong>of</strong> migration studies that more and more <strong>of</strong>ten start by be<strong>in</strong>g based on an<br />
abstract, fictional location. Instead <strong>of</strong> describ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants as a<br />
heterogeneous mixture <strong>of</strong> rural and urban elements from different sources, 33 <strong>the</strong><br />
biographical research on migrants implicitly emphasizes <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
dest<strong>in</strong>ies and <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir decisions. In his study <strong>of</strong> labour migrants from<br />
Barbados George Gmelch, for <strong>in</strong>stance, describes <strong>the</strong> migration cycle between<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> and <strong>the</strong> United K<strong>in</strong>gdom, Canada and <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> by present<strong>in</strong>g some<br />
selected <strong>in</strong>dividuals and lett<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>m expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir own words <strong>the</strong> decisions <strong>the</strong>y<br />
made (1992: 261–310). The migration cycle leads to <strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> a transnational<br />
community that comb<strong>in</strong>es <strong>in</strong>dividuals <strong>in</strong> different constellations, <strong>in</strong> different societies<br />
and <strong>in</strong> different places. At <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> this chapter I will describe ano<strong>the</strong>r scene that<br />
portrays such a community that unifies people <strong>of</strong> mixed descents, Puerto Ricans,<br />
Cubans, Anglo-Americans and more, under <strong>the</strong> umbrella <strong>of</strong> a religion <strong>in</strong> a Mexican<br />
restaurant <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> and that b<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>the</strong> ritual l<strong>in</strong>es that connect <strong>the</strong>m to Cuba<br />
and Africa. In this sense Luis Eduardo Guarnizo def<strong>in</strong>es transnationalism as a ‘web<br />
<strong>of</strong> cultural, social, economic, and political relationships, practices, and identities<br />
built by migrants across national borders’ (1997: 287). Transmigration does not<br />
only refer to <strong>the</strong> mobility <strong>of</strong> migrants between two nations; it describes a ‘two-way<br />
exchange <strong>of</strong> both tangible and <strong>in</strong>tangible resources (such as people, money, ideas,<br />
cultural symbols and <strong>the</strong> like) across national borders’ (Guarnizo 1997: 288).<br />
Eugenia Georges illustrates this de-territorial unity <strong>in</strong> her study about migrants<br />
from <strong>the</strong> Dom<strong>in</strong>ican Republic <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and <strong>the</strong>ir village, Los P<strong>in</strong>os. She comb<strong>in</strong>es<br />
<strong>the</strong> presentation <strong>of</strong> biographies with a structural-historical approach that <strong>in</strong>cludes<br />
<strong>the</strong> migration movement <strong>in</strong> a global context (Georges 1990: 3–10). This creates a<br />
dynamic cultural concept that very flexibly subord<strong>in</strong>ates to social change. Georges<br />
<strong>in</strong>vestigates <strong>the</strong> microcosms <strong>of</strong> transnational migrants and describes migration as<br />
social process. Though she mentions <strong>the</strong> cultural frame only casually, one can extract<br />
some comments on <strong>the</strong> underly<strong>in</strong>g cultural concept from her study.<br />
Migrants from <strong>the</strong> Dom<strong>in</strong>ican Republic are quite suitable for a transnational study<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> because <strong>the</strong>y represent <strong>the</strong> second largest group <strong>of</strong> Spanish-speak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong>habitants after Puerto Ricans. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1960s <strong>the</strong>y have been a group with a large<br />
representation <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, and s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1970s <strong>the</strong>y have headed <strong>the</strong> list <strong>of</strong><br />
33 For an example, see <strong>the</strong> Columbian study about <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong> emigrants, Hnas.<br />
misioneras de San Carlos Borromeo Scalabr<strong>in</strong>ianas 1995: 91.
140<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
immigrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> (Puerto Ricans do not count as immigrants, as already<br />
expla<strong>in</strong>ed). Apart from <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial numbers that represent only legal immigrants many<br />
Dom<strong>in</strong>icans live illegally <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, though <strong>the</strong>ir number cannot be established.<br />
At <strong>the</strong> same time <strong>the</strong> Dom<strong>in</strong>ican Republic is <strong>the</strong> first country to have elected as its<br />
president a transmigrant with a permanent residence permit <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, Leonel<br />
Fernández, who became president <strong>in</strong> 1996. National decisions and election campaigns<br />
<strong>in</strong>volve <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> large number <strong>of</strong> emigrants who are responsible for <strong>the</strong><br />
well-be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> home country even after years or decades <strong>of</strong> absence. 34<br />
Georges <strong>in</strong>vestigates a community <strong>of</strong> people liv<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Los P<strong>in</strong>os and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> who are all connected to Los P<strong>in</strong>os. Based on her research she developed a<br />
homogeneous social and economic structure that puts everyone <strong>in</strong> relationship to<br />
each o<strong>the</strong>r, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g people who have never left Los P<strong>in</strong>os, because <strong>the</strong>y, too, have<br />
relatives <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Georges states that 40 per cent <strong>of</strong> all households <strong>in</strong> Los<br />
P<strong>in</strong>os have relatives <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. Remittances and o<strong>the</strong>r gifts have <strong>in</strong>fluenced <strong>the</strong><br />
social structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> village as well as its visual appearance. At <strong>the</strong> same time <strong>the</strong><br />
migrants have changed because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir life <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, as people <strong>in</strong> Los P<strong>in</strong>os<br />
compla<strong>in</strong> (‘Nueva <strong>York</strong> hace cambiar a la gente [<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> has changed people]’,<br />
Georges 1990: 161), not only <strong>the</strong>ir clo<strong>the</strong>s have changed but also <strong>the</strong>ir behaviour. If<br />
someone forgets to br<strong>in</strong>g presents, people <strong>in</strong> Los P<strong>in</strong>os say that <strong>the</strong>y have forgotten<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir home while <strong>the</strong> fact that charities are supported by <strong>the</strong>se migrants is already<br />
seen as <strong>the</strong> norm. None<strong>the</strong>less, people <strong>in</strong> Los P<strong>in</strong>os have a realistic image <strong>of</strong> life<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, which is portrayed not as paradise but with its problems and<br />
difficulties. Though only 12 per cent <strong>of</strong> migrants return to Los P<strong>in</strong>os, most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m<br />
stay <strong>in</strong> contact with <strong>the</strong> village and participate <strong>in</strong> its life, though <strong>of</strong>ten only through<br />
stories or short visits (Georges 1990: 130–35, 197–201).<br />
Among o<strong>the</strong>r th<strong>in</strong>gs Georges demonstrates <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> reasons that led to <strong>the</strong><br />
emigration, as well as <strong>the</strong> discrepancy between ideal associations and reality. In Los<br />
P<strong>in</strong>os a woman is praised, for <strong>in</strong>stance, for not leav<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> house, while most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
first migrants arriv<strong>in</strong>g from Los P<strong>in</strong>os <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> were women, married as well<br />
as s<strong>in</strong>gle, from highly regarded families. Though <strong>the</strong>y did not travel alone, <strong>the</strong>y were<br />
criticized for <strong>the</strong>ir behaviour and <strong>in</strong> particular at <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migration circle<br />
<strong>the</strong>y were accused <strong>of</strong> be<strong>in</strong>g prostitutes. The migration changed <strong>the</strong> gender relationship<br />
even for people <strong>in</strong> Los P<strong>in</strong>os. For women left alone because <strong>the</strong>ir partner has migrated<br />
to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, <strong>the</strong> situation is <strong>of</strong>ten catastrophic because many emigrants do not<br />
support <strong>the</strong>ir children at home f<strong>in</strong>ancially. The result are households led by women<br />
with visit<strong>in</strong>g husbands who normally live <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, or even households <strong>of</strong><br />
grandmo<strong>the</strong>rs and grandchildren because both parents work <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. Women<br />
<strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly see <strong>the</strong>mselves as imprisoned <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> conventional role <strong>of</strong> mo<strong>the</strong>r.<br />
Georges approaches <strong>the</strong> transnational community as be<strong>in</strong>g a relatively<br />
homogeneous group that becomes after a while more heterogeneous because when<br />
members change accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir life, <strong>the</strong> community changes, too. She describes<br />
34 The example <strong>of</strong> Enrique Sosa, a famous sports hero, illustrates <strong>the</strong> seriousness <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
situation. Though a celebrated hero who was even honoured with a confetti parade <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>in</strong> 1998, he was harshly criticized when he did not respond as he was supposed to<br />
do after <strong>the</strong> hurricane catastrophe <strong>in</strong> 1998.
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 141<br />
<strong>the</strong>refore an <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>in</strong> cultural heterogeneity that is not limited to one place but<br />
exists above and beyond <strong>the</strong> location. Instead <strong>of</strong> cit<strong>in</strong>g mix<strong>in</strong>g as <strong>the</strong> reason for<br />
cultural heterogeneity Georges regards <strong>in</strong>dividual biographies as a catalyst for<br />
diversity, a factor <strong>of</strong>ten ignored <strong>in</strong> cultural studies.<br />
In particular migration studies illustrate that cultural constructs are not<br />
permanently fixed; <strong>the</strong> people creat<strong>in</strong>g this concept react dynamically to developments<br />
and recreate <strong>the</strong> concepts accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir expectations and ideas. As Elizabeth<br />
Thomas-Hope states for <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, migration <strong>of</strong> one generation becomes part<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> next generation: ‘For migration, as part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> material or real environment,<br />
is <strong>in</strong>terpreted as a component <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural environment and <strong>the</strong>refore becomes<br />
part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> image.’ And she cont<strong>in</strong>ues that ‘<strong>the</strong>y <strong>the</strong>mselves and <strong>the</strong>ir migration are<br />
part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> reality for a time but rema<strong>in</strong> part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> myth forever’ (Thomas-Hope<br />
1992: 159). This level <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> migration changes <strong>the</strong> cultural concepts that<br />
underlie <strong>the</strong>se studies. When migration becomes part <strong>of</strong> reality, it will change <strong>the</strong><br />
research unit from an artificially limited one to a construed one that does not ‘really’<br />
exist <strong>in</strong> one place. But it also changes <strong>the</strong> perspective from which one can study <strong>the</strong><br />
culture <strong>of</strong> such a community because it is characterized nei<strong>the</strong>r by heterogeneity nor<br />
homogeneity but as a snapshot <strong>of</strong> a cont<strong>in</strong>uously chang<strong>in</strong>g reality.<br />
At first glance one could assume that transmigration studies are <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> tradition<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hybridity concept <strong>of</strong> García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, who locates his <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> borderland<br />
between Mexico and <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. But <strong>the</strong>re are some differences between García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i<br />
and transnational studies. Guarniza writes about <strong>the</strong> transnational migration:<br />
far from homogeneous, <strong>the</strong> effects <strong>of</strong> [transnational] migration are varied and affect<br />
people accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir position <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> social, gender, and regional power structure<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir country <strong>of</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>. Never<strong>the</strong>less, this heterogeneity is countered by a process <strong>of</strong><br />
homogenization generated by <strong>the</strong> migration experience itself and <strong>the</strong> effect <strong>of</strong> unfriendly<br />
(and at times antagonistic) contexts <strong>of</strong> reception <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> two countries. (1997: 307)<br />
Guarniza comb<strong>in</strong>es heterogeneous and homogeneous tendencies because both <strong>in</strong>fluence<br />
a transnational community. Transmigrants become a new form <strong>of</strong> ethnic group that<br />
exists <strong>in</strong> a transnational habitus (Pierre Bourdieu) <strong>in</strong> that <strong>the</strong> two nations are regarded as<br />
parts <strong>of</strong> one s<strong>in</strong>gular socio-cultural, economic and political field (Guarnizo 1997: 312).<br />
Often, studies about transmigration refer to research done <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> as a region<br />
with a long-established migration experience. The <strong>Caribbean</strong> has apparently sharpened<br />
<strong>the</strong> ability <strong>of</strong> researchers to discover <strong>the</strong> dynamism and <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> static poles though<br />
transmigration is also documented <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r regions. 35 The <strong>Caribbean</strong> is aga<strong>in</strong> a prime<br />
example for <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> new cultural concepts.<br />
Look<strong>in</strong>g back on <strong>the</strong> creolization debate with its narrow emphasis on location,<br />
it becomes obvious that <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> an organic relationship between population,<br />
territory, political organization and a package <strong>of</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g is obsolete (Hannerz<br />
1998: 20). Transnational communities represent <strong>the</strong> dis<strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> narrow<br />
connection between culture, territory and population. In particular <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g spread<br />
<strong>of</strong> transnational relations that are not restricted to elitist groups radically changes cultural<br />
concepts. Hannerz describes an asymmetrical flow between centre and periphery that<br />
35 See <strong>the</strong> short overview <strong>in</strong> Guarnizo 1997: 284–6.
142<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>the</strong> periphery more than <strong>the</strong> centre. Santiago argues from <strong>the</strong> perceptive <strong>of</strong> a<br />
region that Hannerz categorizes as periphery, while Hannerz <strong>in</strong>vestigates predom<strong>in</strong>antly<br />
European and North American cities. None<strong>the</strong>less, his model does not imply a cultural<br />
homogeneity; quite <strong>the</strong> contrary, he praises cultural diversity as a very positive form<br />
<strong>of</strong> resistance aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> pressure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> centres (Hannerz 1998: 60). He <strong>in</strong>sists that<br />
change does not happen because <strong>of</strong> pressure but only because <strong>of</strong> a creative <strong>in</strong>terplay<br />
between centre and periphery. Cultures are not autonomous be<strong>in</strong>gs but are carried and<br />
formed by <strong>in</strong>dividuals <strong>in</strong> different social constellations and with different <strong>in</strong>tentions<br />
(Hannerz 1998: 68–9). He emphasizes <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> creolization as<br />
an active process <strong>of</strong> cultural mixture. He states that ‘creolist concepts suggest that<br />
cultural mixture is not necessarily deviant, second-rate, unworthy <strong>of</strong> attention, matter<br />
out <strong>of</strong> place’, and that <strong>the</strong> term Creole implies <strong>the</strong>refore ‘connotations <strong>of</strong> creativity<br />
and <strong>of</strong> richness <strong>of</strong> expression’ (Hannerz 1998: 66). In <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Creole cultural<br />
concept is a comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> ‘diversity, <strong>in</strong>terconnectedness, and <strong>in</strong>novation, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
context <strong>of</strong> global centre-periphery relationships’ (Hannerz 1998: 67). Hence, not only<br />
<strong>the</strong> periphery can become Creole, but <strong>the</strong> centre can, too – <strong>in</strong> particular because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
migrants, as <strong>the</strong> scenic descriptions <strong>in</strong> this chapter have illustrated. Even as global a<br />
city 36 as <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> dist<strong>in</strong>guishes itself because <strong>of</strong> its ability to <strong>in</strong>clude foreign<br />
elements and connect <strong>the</strong>m with local resources. The presence <strong>of</strong> various migrant<br />
groups does not sufficiently expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural heterogeneity <strong>of</strong> a city such as <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>; it needs structural patterns to enable <strong>the</strong> exchange.<br />
Figure 4.3 Drums <strong>in</strong> a restaurant, Brooklyn (1998)<br />
36 Hannerz characterizes a global city with <strong>the</strong>se characteristics: transnational trade<br />
relations, large groups <strong>of</strong> immigrants from <strong>the</strong> so-called ‘Third World’, a small group <strong>of</strong><br />
cultural specialists and a certa<strong>in</strong> number <strong>of</strong> tourists (1998: 129–31).
Cultural Theories from Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> 143<br />
Fourth Scene: Songs <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Orichas <strong>in</strong> a Restaurant<br />
A last scenic description will illustrate <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious spectrum. As<br />
with <strong>the</strong> first two scenes I observed this <strong>in</strong> 1998, but this time not <strong>in</strong> a church but <strong>in</strong> a<br />
secular place, a restaurant. It was a public performance <strong>of</strong> sacred Santería songs. As<br />
I have already mentioned, like Vodou <strong>the</strong> Cuban religion has a secret, religious side<br />
and a public one that also has a religious basis.<br />
In a small restaurant with a Mexican kitchen <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn a small Puerto Rican-<br />
Cuban group <strong>of</strong> musicians perform every Monday, usually Lat<strong>in</strong> American rhythms. On<br />
<strong>the</strong> day I saw <strong>the</strong>m, <strong>the</strong> group consisted <strong>of</strong> four drummers, a keyboard player, a guitarist<br />
and three (female) s<strong>in</strong>gers, two <strong>of</strong> whom were not Lat<strong>in</strong>as. When I arrived most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>struments and technical equipment were already <strong>in</strong>stalled though <strong>the</strong> musicians were<br />
still dr<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g and eat<strong>in</strong>g. The restaurant was completely packed, and I jo<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> queue<br />
after hav<strong>in</strong>g greeted some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> group. As soon as <strong>the</strong> last drum arrived<br />
<strong>the</strong> concert started after a short <strong>in</strong>troduction by <strong>the</strong> group (see Figure 4.3).<br />
To <strong>the</strong> surprise <strong>of</strong> most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> customers, most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m Anglo-Americans who<br />
had probably never listened to such rhythms and had expected rumba and salsa, <strong>the</strong><br />
group played songs <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas. After a while it became obvious that <strong>the</strong><br />
s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g and <strong>the</strong> drum music fasc<strong>in</strong>ated <strong>the</strong> audience. The religious songs, whose text<br />
no one <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> audience understood, had exuberant rhythm. Some <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> audience even<br />
began to move on <strong>the</strong>ir chairs. One drummer flirted with a small child who would have<br />
preferred to stay and struggled with its jacket, try<strong>in</strong>g to put <strong>of</strong>f leav<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> restaurant.<br />
Then, suddenly, a woman started to dance <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> drums. A second followed.<br />
More and more people started s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> (Spanish) refra<strong>in</strong> and danc<strong>in</strong>g. None became<br />
possessed; hence no oricha visited <strong>the</strong> party. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> atmosphere became<br />
quite similar to that <strong>of</strong> a celebration <strong>in</strong> a Santería temple. It was a cheerful, very lively<br />
spirit. The drummers played faster and faster and enthused even those costumers who<br />
had no idea at all what was go<strong>in</strong>g on. After an hour <strong>the</strong> musicians had a break, dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
which a record<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American music was played. In <strong>the</strong> second part <strong>the</strong> group<br />
performed ma<strong>in</strong>ly rumba rhythms and only a few religious songs. But at <strong>the</strong> end, <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> second <strong>in</strong>terval, some musicians started to dance with some visitors <strong>in</strong> front <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
drums. The concert ended, as is usual for a religious festival, with a party.<br />
This concert was not a religious event <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> strict sense. It was not sacred, no<br />
religious community was present, and it was not even <strong>in</strong> a sacred room. None<strong>the</strong>less,<br />
this little scene illustrates how <strong>in</strong>terwoven religiosity is with ord<strong>in</strong>ary life. For some<br />
decades, Santería was regarded <strong>in</strong> Cuba as folklore and its existence was justified<br />
as enterta<strong>in</strong>ment for tourists. But s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong> 1990s Santería has been able to stress its<br />
religious side <strong>in</strong> Cuba. In <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>, where <strong>the</strong> religion has had its place s<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong><br />
1950s, more and more outsiders are attracted to <strong>the</strong> music and <strong>the</strong>n become fasc<strong>in</strong>ated<br />
by Santería. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> will become <strong>Caribbean</strong> – through <strong>the</strong> religions.
This page <strong>in</strong>tentionally left blank
Chapter 5<br />
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture<br />
A problem with many postmodern cultural <strong>the</strong>ories is that <strong>the</strong>y limit <strong>the</strong>ir perspective<br />
to <strong>the</strong> understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> societies as holistic entities. These concepts <strong>of</strong>ten appear to be<br />
technical, nearly <strong>in</strong>human. But when we look at specific cultures such as <strong>the</strong> cultura<br />
criolla <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> all human senses are <strong>in</strong>volved. One can see, touch, smell,<br />
hear and taste <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>; it is a <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>of</strong> senses, emotions and sentiments<br />
(see Benítez Rojo 1989: xiii). Edouard Glissant talks about <strong>the</strong> human imag<strong>in</strong>ation,<br />
<strong>the</strong> ‘praxis <strong>of</strong> poesy’ as Sab<strong>in</strong>e H<strong>of</strong>mann calls it. For Glissant <strong>the</strong> human imag<strong>in</strong>ation<br />
is like a ‘black box’ that one cannot reduce to some strategies because <strong>the</strong> human<br />
imag<strong>in</strong>ation can always break <strong>the</strong>se structures (H<strong>of</strong>mann 1994: 264). None<strong>the</strong>less,<br />
look<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ories presented <strong>in</strong> Chapter 4, <strong>the</strong> question referr<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> creative<br />
moment <strong>in</strong> cultural transformation rema<strong>in</strong>s unsolved.<br />
Every day sees <strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> new compositions, and some <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m will already<br />
have changed <strong>the</strong> next day. In some religious communities <strong>the</strong> Lady <strong>of</strong> Lourdes is<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> communal worship; tomorrow it will perhaps be <strong>the</strong> Buddha. Today<br />
<strong>the</strong> ritual songs are performed <strong>in</strong> a restaurant, tomorrow <strong>in</strong> a temple, but by <strong>the</strong> same<br />
group <strong>of</strong> people. Today African deities can help; tomorrow <strong>the</strong>y are transformed <strong>in</strong>to<br />
demons. It seems that <strong>the</strong>re is no central po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> cosmos, only <strong>the</strong> limitation<br />
<strong>of</strong> our own imag<strong>in</strong>ation, which <strong>of</strong>ten fails dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> visit <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> deities and spirits.<br />
Under <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> loud beat <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> drums and <strong>the</strong>ir s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g, everyth<strong>in</strong>g is<br />
possible for believers, <strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> deities as well as <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Holy<br />
Spirit. The chaos that <strong>in</strong>spired Benítez Rojo overcomes me; follow<strong>in</strong>g his example I<br />
transform chaos <strong>in</strong>to a (anti-centric) concept.<br />
Is it possible to construe a cultural <strong>the</strong>ory based on religious events and o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
scenes? I th<strong>in</strong>k it is, follow<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> lead <strong>of</strong> Mark Münzel’s myth-based <strong>in</strong>digenous <strong>the</strong>ory.<br />
Indigenous narrators would never understand a question concern<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>ir culture but would be able to tell myths. These myths are central primary sources<br />
for understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir culture; <strong>the</strong>y enable a variety <strong>of</strong> explanations with open<br />
characters that are connected to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous way <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>in</strong>digenous culture<br />
(Münzel 1994: 267). Based on my research among <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious communities I<br />
have developed a cultural concept <strong>in</strong> a similar way to Münzel’s. But <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> referr<strong>in</strong>g<br />
to an outsider perspective I use <strong>the</strong> categories <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> act<strong>in</strong>g subjects as <strong>the</strong> start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t<br />
<strong>of</strong> my <strong>in</strong>terpretation – until I, too, am confronted by <strong>the</strong> limits <strong>of</strong> my imag<strong>in</strong>ation.<br />
Bricolage as Metaphor <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘Savage M<strong>in</strong>d’<br />
In his book The Savage M<strong>in</strong>d (1966, <strong>in</strong> French La Pensée Sauvage, 1962), Claude<br />
Lévi-Strauss breaks <strong>the</strong> limits <strong>of</strong> his own, sometimes static concept <strong>of</strong> structuralism.
146<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
In particular his science du concret presents <strong>in</strong> a magnificent way how utopian <strong>the</strong><br />
‘predom<strong>in</strong>ance <strong>of</strong> European th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g’ is (He<strong>in</strong>richs 1983: 54). Though his ideas<br />
orig<strong>in</strong>ate <strong>in</strong> small societies, my <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>of</strong> urban communities is <strong>in</strong>spired by his<br />
model <strong>of</strong> ‘bricolage’ <strong>in</strong> which he describes <strong>the</strong> creative energy <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> human spirit.<br />
More than forty years ago Lévi-Strauss <strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>the</strong> term bricolage <strong>in</strong>to<br />
academic debate as a metaphor for <strong>the</strong> mythical th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> traditional societies. In<br />
myths and rites Lévi-Strauss discovered ‘<strong>the</strong> rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>of</strong> methods <strong>of</strong> observation and<br />
reflection which were (and no doubt still are) precisely adapted to discoveries <strong>of</strong> a<br />
certa<strong>in</strong> type: those which nature authorized from <strong>the</strong> start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong> a speculative<br />
organization and exploitation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sensible world <strong>in</strong> sensible terms’ (1966: 16).<br />
This science <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> concrete (science du concret) is no less scientific than <strong>the</strong><br />
natural sciences and results <strong>in</strong> f<strong>in</strong>d<strong>in</strong>gs that are no less real. In order to illustrate<br />
his argument Lévi-Strauss compares this way <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g with technical handicraft.<br />
The term bricoleur represents a person ‘who works with his hands and uses devious<br />
means compared to those <strong>of</strong> a craftsman’ (Lévi-Strauss 1966: 16–17). 1 This method<br />
can also be seen <strong>in</strong> mythical th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g:<br />
The characteristic feature <strong>of</strong> mythical thought is that it expresses itself by means <strong>of</strong> a<br />
heterogeneous repertoire which, even if extensive, is never<strong>the</strong>less limited. It has to use<br />
this repertoire, however, whatever <strong>the</strong> task <strong>in</strong> hand because it has noth<strong>in</strong>g else at its<br />
disposal. Mythical thought is <strong>the</strong>refore a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>tellectual ‘bricolage’ – which expla<strong>in</strong>s<br />
<strong>the</strong> relation which can be perceived between <strong>the</strong> two. (Lévi-Strauss 1966: 17)<br />
Mythical th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g uses a limited number <strong>of</strong> means to develop a solution to a problem<br />
<strong>in</strong> a concrete situation, as a do-it-yourself person f<strong>in</strong>ds solutions for problems on a<br />
technical level. The creation process is limited <strong>in</strong> a cont<strong>in</strong>uously new arrangement <strong>of</strong><br />
elements that were used <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r situations and with a different function.<br />
Lévi-Strauss, who regarded himself as a do-it-yourself man (see <strong>the</strong> epilogue <strong>of</strong><br />
The Jealous Potter, 1988), does not construe an opposition between <strong>the</strong> two ways<br />
<strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> mythical and <strong>the</strong> (natural) scientific, or an evolutionary hierarchy<br />
between <strong>the</strong> two concepts. He regards <strong>the</strong>m as parallel k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> cognition, as two<br />
comparable pathways. Though <strong>the</strong> science <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> concrete was developed ten<br />
thousand years ago and was valued by Lévi-Strauss as <strong>the</strong> basis for our civilization,<br />
he argues aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> degradation <strong>of</strong> mythical th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g as primitive. He illustrates<br />
his evaluation with <strong>the</strong> argument that even <strong>in</strong> our society mythical th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g exists,<br />
<strong>in</strong> particular <strong>in</strong> art and architecture. Two aspects <strong>in</strong> his model are particularly<br />
<strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g: <strong>the</strong> reference to <strong>the</strong> ‘sensually perceivable world’ and <strong>the</strong> creativity <strong>of</strong><br />
mythical th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. He emphasizes that <strong>the</strong> bricoleur has to manage with only a limited<br />
collection <strong>of</strong> tools and materials; <strong>the</strong> product at <strong>the</strong> end may not be <strong>the</strong> best solution<br />
for <strong>the</strong> work to be done but <strong>the</strong> best result achievable with <strong>the</strong> materials at hand.<br />
This very flexible creativity, accord<strong>in</strong>g to which no element has only one specific<br />
1 As <strong>the</strong> translator <strong>of</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s book wrote, <strong>the</strong>re is no precise equivalent <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
term bricoleur <strong>in</strong> English. ‘He is a man who undertakes odd jobs and is a Jack <strong>of</strong> all trades<br />
or a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> pr<strong>of</strong>essional do-it-yourself man, but, as <strong>the</strong> text makes clear, he is <strong>of</strong> a different<br />
stand<strong>in</strong>g from, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> English ‘odd job man’ or ‘handyman’ (trans. note <strong>in</strong> footnote,<br />
Lévi-Strauss 1966: 17).
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 147<br />
and <strong>the</strong>refore restricted mean<strong>in</strong>g, represents <strong>the</strong> strong creative energy <strong>of</strong> Lévi-<br />
Strauss’s model that <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end breaks through structuralism. Though his opposition<br />
between <strong>the</strong> two ways <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g conta<strong>in</strong>s a rem<strong>in</strong>der <strong>of</strong> his structural system that<br />
regards social phenomena only as structural characters (see He<strong>in</strong>richs 1983: 88),<br />
Lévi-Strauss’s emphasis on spontaneity <strong>in</strong>cludes a dynamism and creativity <strong>of</strong> m<strong>in</strong>d<br />
that does not exist statically but can adapt dynamically.<br />
As <strong>in</strong> his former book Race et Histoire (1952), Lévi-Strauss stresses <strong>in</strong> The<br />
Savage M<strong>in</strong>d his rejection <strong>of</strong> all colonial, racist and arrogant pejorative valuations,<br />
and argues <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> tradition <strong>of</strong> Rousseau, Diderot, Montaigne and Montesquieu (Paz<br />
1993: 10). In his critique <strong>of</strong> Eurocentrism he repeatedly states that <strong>the</strong>re is no real<br />
difference between <strong>the</strong> two ways <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g because <strong>the</strong>y are based on common<br />
patterns. When <strong>the</strong> two forms <strong>of</strong> human th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g solve problems <strong>in</strong> similar ways,<br />
<strong>the</strong>n <strong>the</strong>re cannot be hierarchical differences between <strong>the</strong>m. This is one feature <strong>of</strong><br />
Lévi-Strauss that makes his colleagues sceptical, because <strong>the</strong>y cannot accept that his<br />
structuralism reduces all human be<strong>in</strong>gs to one pattern (see Leach 1974: 55). Leach<br />
refers to a discrepancy <strong>in</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s work, namely that Lévi-Strauss dist<strong>in</strong>guishes<br />
between <strong>the</strong> creativity <strong>of</strong> human be<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong> general and specific groups <strong>of</strong> people<br />
(1974: 56). Based on an excerpt from Tristes tropiques (1955) Leach concludes<br />
that Lévi-Strauss regards human societies – as dist<strong>in</strong>ct from <strong>in</strong>dividuals – as hav<strong>in</strong>g<br />
only a limited creative ability. While Leach criticizes Lévi-Strauss’s discrepancy, I<br />
<strong>in</strong>terpret it not only as a development <strong>in</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s work but as an <strong>in</strong>dicator that<br />
Lévi-Strauss did not see <strong>the</strong> full consequences <strong>of</strong> his bricolage model, which breaks<br />
<strong>the</strong> boundaries <strong>of</strong> structuralism. But it also shows that structuralism – at least <strong>in</strong> Lévi-<br />
Strauss’s approach – conta<strong>in</strong>s adaptable elements and not only static structures. Even<br />
his structuralism <strong>in</strong>cludes a freedom <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g that is <strong>of</strong>ten ignored by his critics.<br />
Terence Turner, for <strong>in</strong>stance, challenges structural perspectives with reference to<br />
<strong>the</strong> adaptation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> structure: ‘“Structure” <strong>in</strong> this operational sense<br />
bears little resemblance to <strong>the</strong> ‘structuralist’ concept <strong>of</strong> static patterns <strong>of</strong> contrastive<br />
relational formulated from a vantage po<strong>in</strong>t external to <strong>the</strong> context and process <strong>of</strong><br />
construction’ (T. Turner 1995: 151). He ignores that even at <strong>the</strong> height <strong>of</strong> structuralism,<br />
when it was promoted by Lévi-Strauss as an alternative approach dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> 1950s<br />
and 1960s, <strong>the</strong>re was always a cont<strong>in</strong>uous movement between structure and process,<br />
between static and dynamic <strong>in</strong>terpretations (Schneider 1995: 194–5).<br />
In <strong>the</strong> reception <strong>of</strong> The Savage M<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong> critics sometimes ignore this ambivalence<br />
<strong>in</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s work. They <strong>of</strong>ten focus on <strong>the</strong> observation that <strong>the</strong> ‘<strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
m<strong>in</strong>d’, based on <strong>the</strong> conception <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> discrepancy between tamed and savage m<strong>in</strong>ds<br />
(He<strong>in</strong>richs 1983: 87), conta<strong>in</strong>s a rigidity that is not transferable to contemporary<br />
societies. The image <strong>of</strong> a mixed culture between two bipolar oppositions – ignored<br />
by Lévi-Strauss – challenges Lat<strong>in</strong> American and <strong>Caribbean</strong> realities. The <strong>in</strong>digenous<br />
and Afro-American populations do not exist outside <strong>the</strong> urban world.<br />
Octavio Paz argues <strong>in</strong> a similar way aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> dichotomy <strong>in</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s<br />
schema. Paz refers <strong>in</strong> his critique to <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American reality, <strong>in</strong> particular to<br />
<strong>the</strong> fundamental non-simultaneity <strong>of</strong> societies and cultures <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America, an<br />
important aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> postmodern debate <strong>the</strong>re. Non-simultaneity breaks <strong>the</strong> static<br />
frame <strong>of</strong> any system organized <strong>in</strong> opposite poles <strong>of</strong> domesticated and savage m<strong>in</strong>ds<br />
(Lüsebr<strong>in</strong>k 1994: 221, referr<strong>in</strong>g to Paz 1993). An example <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions I have
148<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
discussed illustrates his argument. In <strong>the</strong> figure <strong>of</strong> Changó, <strong>in</strong> Santería, one can<br />
discover two sides, a female and a male one. Both sides do not exist simultaneously,<br />
as is <strong>of</strong>ten argued, but <strong>the</strong> believers dist<strong>in</strong>guish clearly which side <strong>the</strong>y address at<br />
a particular time. Both sides are connected to certa<strong>in</strong> times and sometimes even to<br />
certa<strong>in</strong> locations. While <strong>the</strong> ‘new believers’, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>the</strong> African-Americans,<br />
<strong>of</strong>ten cannot cope with <strong>the</strong> non-simultaneity <strong>of</strong> simultaneously exist<strong>in</strong>g forms, <strong>the</strong><br />
‘traditional believers’, <strong>the</strong> Cubans and Puerto Ricans, have no problems with this<br />
way <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g; it is <strong>the</strong> core <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir religion. Santa Barbara and Changó exist <strong>in</strong><br />
one figure but are temporarily separated. Changó lives <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> church as well, and<br />
Santa Barbara is present <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple, <strong>the</strong> casas de santos; but her worship rema<strong>in</strong>s<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> a service <strong>in</strong> church while Changó’s worship rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> temple.<br />
At both times <strong>the</strong>re is only one side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e entity present. The Cuban santeros<br />
and santeras know perfectly well who is uppermost at which moments and who can<br />
be worshipped where and when. Octavio Paz traces <strong>the</strong> difficulties <strong>in</strong> understand<strong>in</strong>g<br />
this way <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g back to <strong>the</strong> limited conception <strong>of</strong> history that is very simple and<br />
l<strong>in</strong>ear <strong>in</strong> Europe. He criticizes Lévi-Strauss <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>in</strong> particular for his dichotomy<br />
between historical and savage th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g because even so-called historical societies<br />
have developed <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> a cyclic history, except <strong>in</strong> Europe. Only <strong>the</strong> modern West<br />
has identified so absolutely with history that humans are def<strong>in</strong>ed as historical be<strong>in</strong>gs,<br />
ignor<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> ideas <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r civilizations (Paz 1993: 82). As a counter-example Paz<br />
refers to Ch<strong>in</strong>a and its cyclic imag<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> time as well as to <strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American<br />
societies that ignore <strong>the</strong> past (1993: 82). While he emphasizes <strong>the</strong> caste system<br />
<strong>in</strong> India as a model for <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g different groups, he challenges <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> for <strong>the</strong><br />
opposite attitude, <strong>the</strong> rejection <strong>of</strong> foreign groups. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Paz <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>’s system<br />
is based on a universalismo exclusivista that comb<strong>in</strong>es Puritanism with <strong>the</strong> politicalideological<br />
awareness <strong>of</strong> Anglo-Saxon democracy. After <strong>the</strong> purification <strong>of</strong> foreign<br />
elements – for <strong>in</strong>stance through <strong>the</strong> separation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous population – <strong>the</strong><br />
society developed <strong>in</strong>to a melt<strong>in</strong>g pot that <strong>in</strong>cluded only European nations. The <strong>USA</strong><br />
was <strong>in</strong>spired by ideas <strong>of</strong> progress dur<strong>in</strong>g a history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> most direct and violent k<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
The result has been <strong>the</strong> overvaluation <strong>of</strong> change and <strong>the</strong> devaluation <strong>of</strong> social and<br />
racial particularities that still excludes <strong>the</strong> African. Hence, <strong>the</strong> melt<strong>in</strong>g pot ceased to<br />
be <strong>the</strong> historical model for <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> (Paz 1993: 88).<br />
Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Paz <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternal plurality <strong>of</strong> societies provokes a confusion which<br />
leads to two different reactions: relativism and exclusivism. The first one paralyses<br />
our <strong>in</strong>tellect because it excludes change; <strong>the</strong> latter one does not <strong>of</strong>fer any reason for <strong>the</strong><br />
separation <strong>in</strong> ‘good’ and ‘bad’ societies. For Paz, Lévi-Strauss is <strong>the</strong> first scholar who<br />
<strong>of</strong>fers (based on Montaigne, Rousseau, Sahagún and Las Casas) an alternative way <strong>of</strong><br />
respect<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r and develop<strong>in</strong>g oneself, and hence <strong>of</strong> understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> foreign<br />
and criticiz<strong>in</strong>g one’s own culture (Paz 1993: 89). Lévi-Strauss’s critique culm<strong>in</strong>ates <strong>in</strong><br />
a critique <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> central idea <strong>of</strong> European societies: progress. Paz expla<strong>in</strong>s this central<br />
perspective <strong>of</strong> Lévi-Strauss with <strong>the</strong> simultaneous development <strong>of</strong> ethnography and<br />
<strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> history as un<strong>in</strong>terrupted progress. Despite be<strong>in</strong>g an element <strong>of</strong> progress,<br />
ethnography criticized progress from <strong>the</strong> start. As Paz expla<strong>in</strong>s, Lévi-Strauss <strong>the</strong>refore<br />
challenges <strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> a universal law and <strong>of</strong> general assessment categories that<br />
are applicable to all societies. The savage m<strong>in</strong>d is not pejorative to <strong>the</strong> tamed one,<br />
ei<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> its methods or <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> its discoveries.
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 149<br />
However, despite Paz’s enthusiasm for Lévi-Strauss’s critique <strong>of</strong> European<br />
progressive th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g, Paz argues aga<strong>in</strong>st his dichotomy <strong>of</strong> structure and history<br />
because it is not essential for Lat<strong>in</strong> Americans (1993: 119). On Paz’s read<strong>in</strong>g Lévi-<br />
Strauss follows <strong>the</strong> path <strong>of</strong> modern philosophy but f<strong>in</strong>ishes with contradictory<br />
conclusions. At first Lévi-Strauss reduces <strong>the</strong> plurality <strong>of</strong> societies and histories to<br />
a dichotomy that embraces and separates, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> savage and <strong>the</strong> tamed m<strong>in</strong>d. Then<br />
he discovers that this opposition is part <strong>of</strong> ano<strong>the</strong>r opposition, that between nature<br />
and culture. The similarities between <strong>the</strong> two demonstrate that cultural products and<br />
natural products are not essentially different from each o<strong>the</strong>r (Paz 1993: 119), and<br />
that <strong>the</strong> natural ra<strong>the</strong>r than historical structure lays out <strong>the</strong> real essence <strong>of</strong> human<br />
be<strong>in</strong>gs. Paz argues that, despite some similarities to Rousseau, <strong>the</strong>re is also a major<br />
difference. While Rousseau describes <strong>the</strong> natural human be<strong>in</strong>g as a passionate be<strong>in</strong>g,<br />
Lévi-Strauss sees emotions and sensibility as relationships. ‘Human nature, be<strong>in</strong>g<br />
without essence and idea, is an agreement, a ratio, a relation’ (La naturaleza humana,<br />
ya que no una esencia ni una idea, es un concierto, una ratio, una proporción) (Paz<br />
1993: 120, my translation). At this po<strong>in</strong>t Paz f<strong>in</strong>ally leaves Lévi-Strauss and breaks –<br />
on <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> his observations about Buddhism – <strong>the</strong> bipolar model <strong>of</strong> Lévi-Strauss,<br />
but without <strong>of</strong>fer<strong>in</strong>g an alternative. Paz’s critique <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> savage m<strong>in</strong>d illustrates a<br />
fundamental problem <strong>in</strong> most Lat<strong>in</strong> American <strong>the</strong>ories. Look<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> bipolar<br />
opposition <strong>of</strong> savage and tamed, Paz, like most Lat<strong>in</strong> American <strong>in</strong>tellectuals, regards<br />
himself and Mexican society as part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> latter, <strong>the</strong> modern world. Lévi-Strauss<br />
and o<strong>the</strong>rs, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, differentiate between <strong>the</strong> European and <strong>the</strong> non-<br />
European world (though <strong>the</strong> European world is not restricted to Europe). It <strong>the</strong>refore<br />
seems logical that this relic <strong>of</strong> colonial th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> European models must provoke<br />
vehement critique among Lat<strong>in</strong> American scholars. In Lat<strong>in</strong> America <strong>the</strong> population<br />
is nei<strong>the</strong>r European nor non-European but has developed <strong>in</strong> a third way. However,<br />
<strong>in</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s schema <strong>the</strong>re is no space for mixture, and <strong>the</strong>refore no place for<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American ideas. Ulf Hannerz even claims that Lévi-Strauss’s description <strong>of</strong><br />
cultures can almost be regarded as apar<strong>the</strong>id (Hannerz 1998: 161). His critics forget<br />
that Lévi-Strauss does not analyse ethnographic reality but has developed a schema<br />
<strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. Instead <strong>of</strong> ‘real’ subjects he looks at <strong>the</strong> collective unconsciousness, an<br />
abstract human be<strong>in</strong>g. Lévi-Strauss challenges <strong>the</strong> devaluation <strong>of</strong> different ways <strong>of</strong><br />
th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g, hence <strong>the</strong> disqualification <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r modes <strong>of</strong> structur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> world. When he<br />
discovers an equal way <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> myths and rites, he argues aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> rejection<br />
<strong>of</strong> ideas, that is, <strong>the</strong> apar<strong>the</strong>id <strong>of</strong> thought (to stay with Hannerz’s word play). Though<br />
I understand Paz’s disappo<strong>in</strong>tment that he could not f<strong>in</strong>d himself <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong> Lévi-<br />
Strauss’s writ<strong>in</strong>gs, we have to acknowledge <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>spiration <strong>of</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s ideas.<br />
Jacques Derrida has a different approach to such construed opposition, transferr<strong>in</strong>g<br />
bricolage to any discourse. He argues that every discourse is a bricoleur when one<br />
def<strong>in</strong>es bricolage as <strong>the</strong> need to borrow one’s terms from a more or less coherent<br />
or dis<strong>in</strong>tegrated tradition. Consequently, <strong>the</strong> eng<strong>in</strong>eer, who is to <strong>the</strong> opposite <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> bricoleur, is just a myth, a subject orig<strong>in</strong>ated from its own discourse (Derrida<br />
1985: 431). As soon as one puts oneself outside <strong>the</strong> two models ‘bricoleur’ and<br />
‘eng<strong>in</strong>eer’ and looks at <strong>the</strong>m as part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> same system, one realizes that eng<strong>in</strong>eer<br />
is a <strong>the</strong>ological construct, a myth created by a bricoleur (Derrida 1985: 431–2).<br />
Hence, <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> construct<strong>in</strong>g bricoleur <strong>in</strong> opposition to a scientist, Derrida regards
150<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> savage m<strong>in</strong>d as characteristic <strong>of</strong> any way <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g, and fur<strong>the</strong>r that one can<br />
observe bricolage <strong>in</strong> any society, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g our own.<br />
Ano<strong>the</strong>r critique challenges <strong>the</strong> loss <strong>of</strong> a subject <strong>in</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s model.<br />
He<strong>in</strong>richs states that Lévi-Strauss contradicted <strong>the</strong> contemporary elevation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
subject <strong>in</strong> literary structuralism by focus<strong>in</strong>g on structures; hence, <strong>the</strong>ir producers, <strong>the</strong><br />
human be<strong>in</strong>gs creat<strong>in</strong>g cultures, disappeared (1983: 84). Lévi-Strauss’s structuralism<br />
led to <strong>the</strong> stylization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> loss <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> subject. Though his bricolage model focuses<br />
on <strong>the</strong> bricoleur, he or she conducts <strong>the</strong>ir work more or less unconsciously. A<br />
bricoleur collects tools and material without know<strong>in</strong>g what to do with <strong>the</strong>m. I argue<br />
differently from He<strong>in</strong>richs that we should extend <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> bricoleur. Lévi-<br />
Strauss emphasizes <strong>the</strong> amateurish character <strong>of</strong> a bricoleur, <strong>the</strong>reby render<strong>in</strong>g a<br />
proper translation ‘hobbyist’ or ‘t<strong>in</strong>kerer’. But when we use <strong>the</strong> term <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> sense<br />
<strong>of</strong> a do-it-yourself person, bricoleur receives <strong>the</strong> connotation <strong>of</strong> a creative home<br />
constructor whose work conta<strong>in</strong>s a creative purpose from <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g. Paz also<br />
criticizes Lévi-Strauss for reject<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> subject, and destroy<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> dialogue <strong>of</strong> one’s<br />
conscience with itself as well as <strong>the</strong> dialogue <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> subject with its objects <strong>in</strong> do<strong>in</strong>g<br />
so (Paz 1993: 118). Lévi-Strauss always refers to abstract human be<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong><br />
to a particular ethnic group as <strong>in</strong> his o<strong>the</strong>r publications. 2<br />
Ano<strong>the</strong>r problem lays <strong>in</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s structural concept <strong>of</strong> rationalities. Though<br />
he had already demonstrated <strong>in</strong> Tristes tropique (which was published before The<br />
Savage M<strong>in</strong>d) that <strong>the</strong> structural <strong>the</strong>ory is not entirely bottomlessly abstract but<br />
founded <strong>in</strong> experience, sensuality and <strong>the</strong> concrete, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘science <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> concrete’<br />
and <strong>the</strong> ‘logic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sensual quality’ (He<strong>in</strong>richs 1983: 76–7), he moves <strong>in</strong> The<br />
Savage M<strong>in</strong>d from particularity to <strong>the</strong> general – and stops at this po<strong>in</strong>t (He<strong>in</strong>richs<br />
1983: 55). As he writes <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>troduction to Mythologique I, Lévi-Strauss tries<br />
to overcome <strong>the</strong> opposition between sensuality and <strong>in</strong>telligibility by mov<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong><br />
level <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sign. But <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> a sign cannot overcome <strong>the</strong> opposition by itself<br />
(see Derrida 1985: 425–6, referr<strong>in</strong>g to Mythologique I ). A culture can be approached<br />
at <strong>the</strong> sensual level only when it is understandable to <strong>the</strong> observer and translatable<br />
for <strong>the</strong> reader. Poetic texts, <strong>the</strong> most complex k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> literature directed to <strong>the</strong><br />
senses, can be translated only roughly. Myths and religions are, too, very difficult to<br />
conceive with our concepts, <strong>in</strong> particular because <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a sign changes with<br />
translation. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> mythopoetic research <strong>of</strong> Lévi-Strauss illustrates that<br />
<strong>the</strong> sensual level is <strong>in</strong>deed <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong> his work, and also <strong>in</strong> his bricolage concept,<br />
though it is not explicitly formulated. Expand<strong>in</strong>g Lévi-Strauss’s <strong>the</strong>ory to <strong>in</strong>clude<br />
<strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> act<strong>in</strong>g, creative subjects, bricolage implies a sensual, aes<strong>the</strong>tic<br />
side that is based on <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> act<strong>in</strong>g subjects and forces <strong>the</strong> observers at <strong>the</strong><br />
same time to <strong>in</strong>clude <strong>the</strong>ir own perception <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation.<br />
This ambivalent relationship is <strong>of</strong>ten ignored or even systematically excluded.<br />
Jean Duv<strong>in</strong>gnaud, for <strong>in</strong>stance, challenges European culture as be<strong>in</strong>g without humour<br />
from his own limited perspective. Referr<strong>in</strong>g to a performance <strong>of</strong> Le Bouddha <strong>in</strong>carné<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>atre Rond-Po<strong>in</strong>t he states that <strong>the</strong>atrical spectacle, such as this Ch<strong>in</strong>ese<br />
2 But even <strong>in</strong> his o<strong>the</strong>r books Lepenies and Ritter criticize <strong>the</strong> lack <strong>of</strong> concrete<br />
<strong>in</strong>dividuals or groups because social relationships <strong>in</strong>vestigated accord<strong>in</strong>g to rules <strong>of</strong> structural<br />
anthropology look at <strong>in</strong>dividuals as moments <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> collective unconscious (1974: 42).
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 151<br />
performance, that <strong>in</strong>cludes a mixture <strong>of</strong> music, dance, antiphon and circus attraction<br />
would be impossible to create <strong>in</strong> Europe. He argues that spectacles <strong>of</strong> religious<br />
phenomena are <strong>in</strong>consistent with <strong>the</strong> Western, that is, European, tradition because<br />
<strong>of</strong> our static and humourless understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> culture (Duvignaud 1995: 108). He<br />
expla<strong>in</strong>s this lack as a consequence <strong>of</strong> mono<strong>the</strong>ism, whose central worship <strong>of</strong> an<br />
<strong>in</strong>visible god prevents enjoyment. Mono<strong>the</strong>ism stresses tragedy, as is exemplified<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Passion plays. The power <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> comedy that played <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Antics and later<br />
<strong>in</strong> William Shakespeare’s plays, with <strong>the</strong>ir <strong>in</strong>visible forces <strong>of</strong> nature, is ignored<br />
(Duvignaud 1995: 108). Duvignaud discovers only pa<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> religious performances <strong>in</strong><br />
Europe and not joy, which would make pr<strong>of</strong>ane performance <strong>of</strong> religious phenomena<br />
impossible <strong>the</strong>re. He ignores that even <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> performance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Passion <strong>of</strong> Jesus <strong>the</strong><br />
joy <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> believers at Easter outweighs <strong>the</strong> pa<strong>in</strong>. Duvignaud limits his perspective<br />
to his own perception and consequently excludes <strong>the</strong> majority <strong>of</strong> popular religious<br />
perspectives. But <strong>the</strong> fast-grow<strong>in</strong>g attraction <strong>of</strong> Anglo-American people to <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> religions contradicts Duvignaud’s perspective. On <strong>the</strong> analytical level,<br />
however, his critique illustrates an important po<strong>in</strong>t, because <strong>the</strong> academic debate<br />
restricts <strong>the</strong> senses to <strong>the</strong> level <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Savage M<strong>in</strong>d.<br />
Mechanism <strong>of</strong> Bricolage<br />
In addition to <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical debate about bricolage, after <strong>the</strong> publication <strong>of</strong> The Savage<br />
M<strong>in</strong>d <strong>the</strong> term soon became a metaphor for syncretistic cultural forms. For <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
David Guss uses <strong>the</strong> term bricolage <strong>in</strong> order to characterize Lat<strong>in</strong> American festivals:<br />
Like Lévi-Strauss’s famous ‘bricoleur’, <strong>the</strong>se festivals, as a direct result <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir syncretistic<br />
composition, have enabled participants to recomb<strong>in</strong>e elements cont<strong>in</strong>ually, forefront<strong>in</strong>g<br />
some and ignor<strong>in</strong>g o<strong>the</strong>rs, depend<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> particular message those <strong>in</strong> control <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
festival wish to convey. (1994: 145–6)<br />
While Guss uses bricolage as just ano<strong>the</strong>r term for syncretism, Richard Werbner<br />
differentiates between syncretism as religious mixture and bricolage as cultural<br />
mixture. He def<strong>in</strong>es bricolage as ‘<strong>the</strong> formation <strong>of</strong> fresh cultural forms from <strong>the</strong><br />
ready-to-hand debris <strong>of</strong> old forms’, while syncretism is ‘<strong>the</strong> contentious and<br />
dist<strong>in</strong>ctively ritual and/or religious hybridization’ (Werbner 1994: 215). Werbner,<br />
like many o<strong>the</strong>rs, reduces <strong>the</strong> schema <strong>of</strong> Lévi-Strauss to only one aspect, <strong>the</strong> mixture,<br />
and disregards Lévi-Strauss’s <strong>in</strong>tention to illustrate with ‘bricolage’ a special form <strong>of</strong><br />
th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g and do<strong>in</strong>g, hence a process and not only <strong>the</strong> result <strong>of</strong> it.<br />
The French scholar Roger Bastide takes ano<strong>the</strong>r turn. Though he <strong>in</strong>vestigates<br />
Afro-America, a popular area for syncretism studies, Bastide focuses on collective<br />
memory <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> cultural mixture. He argues that <strong>the</strong> term bricolage systematizes<br />
an ongo<strong>in</strong>g debate that Lévi-Strauss elaborated <strong>in</strong>to a general <strong>the</strong>ory. Bastide<br />
refers among o<strong>the</strong>rs to Marcel Mauss who described <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> bricolage <strong>in</strong><br />
an article about Afro-Brazilian phenomena as early as 1912, though without giv<strong>in</strong>g<br />
it this particular name (1970: 97). This early description <strong>of</strong> bricolage with regard<br />
to Afro-American phenomena <strong>in</strong>spires Bastide to transplant Lévi-Strauss’s concept
152<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
<strong>of</strong> bricolage <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> field <strong>of</strong> Afro-American studies. 3 In this context Bastide uses<br />
<strong>the</strong> term ‘sociology <strong>of</strong> bricolage’ because Lévi-Strauss – who rejected <strong>the</strong> term<br />
sociology – has given <strong>in</strong> his book a def<strong>in</strong>ition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> practices <strong>of</strong> bricolage <strong>in</strong><br />
opposition to <strong>the</strong> art <strong>of</strong> eng<strong>in</strong>eer<strong>in</strong>g (1970: 98). With<strong>in</strong> Afro-American studies <strong>the</strong><br />
idea <strong>of</strong> bricolage helps to understand <strong>the</strong> transplantation, <strong>the</strong> opposition and <strong>the</strong><br />
adaptation <strong>of</strong> Africans <strong>in</strong> America (Bastide 1970: 100). Bastide dist<strong>in</strong>guishes strictly<br />
between two different forms <strong>of</strong> plural societies <strong>in</strong> America. While <strong>USA</strong> society is<br />
divided <strong>in</strong>to two blocks (‘Black’ and ‘White’), each <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>m with three hierarchical<br />
classes, Lat<strong>in</strong> American societies consist <strong>of</strong> three hierarchical classes that are ordered<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to sk<strong>in</strong> colour (Bastide 1970: 68). As dist<strong>in</strong>ct from Lévi-Strauss, who<br />
<strong>in</strong>vestigates ‘<strong>the</strong> human’ and studies bricolage on <strong>the</strong> human level, Bastide looks at<br />
social groups, <strong>in</strong> particular <strong>the</strong> group <strong>of</strong> Afro-Americans. But by <strong>in</strong>vestigat<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
mechanism <strong>of</strong> bricolage on <strong>the</strong> collective level his perspective is also restricted to an<br />
abstract level; he refers to ‘les Noirs’ (<strong>the</strong> Blacks) or ‘les Africa<strong>in</strong>es’ (<strong>the</strong> Africans)<br />
without <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g creative <strong>in</strong>dividuals. None<strong>the</strong>less, his abstract perspective adds an<br />
<strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g usage <strong>of</strong> bricolage to <strong>the</strong> debate outside <strong>the</strong> mythopoetical context.<br />
Bastide – with reference to Lévi-Strauss – understands bricolage as a process<br />
that construes a new mean<strong>in</strong>g out <strong>of</strong> a disparate ensemble without chang<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
significance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> elements, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same way as <strong>the</strong> fitt<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> additional elements <strong>in</strong> a<br />
new arrangement does not destroy <strong>the</strong> nature <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> material (1970: 100). This process<br />
<strong>of</strong> new arrangements <strong>of</strong> available material can be found – accord<strong>in</strong>g to Bastide – <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> collective memory <strong>of</strong> Afro-Americans. He expla<strong>in</strong>s that Afro-American societies<br />
sought for new images to fill <strong>the</strong> gaps produced by slavery, not through <strong>the</strong> adaptation<br />
<strong>of</strong> elements but through a specific way <strong>of</strong> organization (Bastide 1970: 96). At this<br />
po<strong>in</strong>t bricolage beg<strong>in</strong>s, but not as <strong>in</strong>vention or as an imag<strong>in</strong>ary logic. Bastide expla<strong>in</strong>s<br />
bricolage as <strong>the</strong> mend<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> an exist<strong>in</strong>g object such as a chair that lacks a leg. Even<br />
if <strong>the</strong> chair is mended with an iron cha<strong>in</strong> that connects <strong>the</strong> two pieces toge<strong>the</strong>r, <strong>the</strong><br />
significance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> object, <strong>the</strong> chair, rema<strong>in</strong>s (Bastide 1970: 100).<br />
Bastide was <strong>in</strong>spired by Maurice Halbwachs who illustrates, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>in</strong> his<br />
book Les cadres sociaux de la mémoire (1925, <strong>in</strong> English partly published <strong>in</strong> 1992),<br />
that <strong>in</strong>dividual memories do not last long, while <strong>the</strong> memory <strong>of</strong> a social group can<br />
preserve memories <strong>of</strong> a former life (Bastide 1970: 78 with reference to Halbwachs).<br />
For Bastide African relics represent a special form <strong>of</strong> collective memory, because <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> space and location for <strong>the</strong> conservation <strong>of</strong> memories. While emigrants<br />
start re-establish<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir lost home <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> colony and baptize, for <strong>in</strong>stance, new<br />
places with familiar names, enslaved Africans lacked this possibility to acquire a<br />
new location. They had to create <strong>the</strong>ir own space <strong>in</strong> a different way, through religions<br />
(Bastide 1970: 86–7). Bastide illustrates this process by referr<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> Afro-Brazilian<br />
religion Candomblé or, more precisely, to <strong>the</strong> way that <strong>the</strong> African space is recreated<br />
by <strong>the</strong> division <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious space <strong>in</strong>side a Candomblé temple. He states that<br />
collective memory can only exist when it can be materially recreated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre<br />
<strong>of</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>uity and social conservation. He dist<strong>in</strong>guishes how <strong>the</strong>re are two ways that<br />
<strong>the</strong>se ‘souvenir pictures’ <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> collective memory can cont<strong>in</strong>ue Africa <strong>in</strong> America:<br />
3 The term ‘Afro-America’ <strong>in</strong>cludes here all cultures on <strong>the</strong> American cont<strong>in</strong>ent and <strong>the</strong><br />
The term ‘Afro-America’ <strong>in</strong>cludes here all cultures on <strong>the</strong> American cont<strong>in</strong>ent and <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> with African elements, while African-America <strong>in</strong>dicates only such cultures <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>.
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 153<br />
one can rely on <strong>the</strong> morphology <strong>of</strong> a partial group, on religious texts, for <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
but also on <strong>the</strong> ensemble <strong>of</strong> mechanisms dur<strong>in</strong>g spirit possession (Bastide 1970: 89).<br />
One has to keep <strong>in</strong> m<strong>in</strong>d that even when <strong>the</strong> names <strong>of</strong> African deities are still known<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brazil, <strong>the</strong>y sometimes do not appear <strong>in</strong> religious practice, and <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>the</strong>y do<br />
not manifest <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> believers. Some myths exist that are no longer supported<br />
by <strong>the</strong> liturgy, only transmitted from one priest to ano<strong>the</strong>r. Because <strong>the</strong>y are not part<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ensemble <strong>of</strong> images <strong>the</strong>y s<strong>in</strong>k <strong>in</strong>to oblivion when no one writes <strong>the</strong>m down.<br />
Bastide <strong>the</strong>refore concludes that <strong>the</strong> structure, or better, <strong>the</strong> communication between<br />
<strong>in</strong>dividuals, determ<strong>in</strong>es which elements survive and which will be excluded from<br />
<strong>the</strong> collective memory. Adapted to Afro-America it means that <strong>the</strong> structures with<strong>in</strong><br />
a group – for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>the</strong> religious positions with<strong>in</strong> a Candomblé community – are<br />
important, not <strong>the</strong> structures between different groups. The collective memory is<br />
<strong>the</strong> memory <strong>of</strong> a group but also <strong>the</strong> memory <strong>of</strong> a scenario, for example <strong>the</strong> relation<br />
between <strong>the</strong> positions, as well as <strong>the</strong> memory <strong>of</strong> an organization, <strong>of</strong> an articulation,<br />
<strong>of</strong> a network <strong>of</strong> relations between <strong>in</strong>dividuals (Bastide 1970: 91–2).<br />
Slavery <strong>in</strong>terrupted nearly all k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> articulations, hence new elements had to be<br />
found. Slavery, <strong>of</strong> course, also prevented <strong>the</strong> establishment <strong>of</strong> real groups, at least at<br />
<strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g, hence it would be better to def<strong>in</strong>e groups as a system <strong>of</strong> relationships<br />
between <strong>in</strong>dividual memories (Bastide 1970: 93–4). At this po<strong>in</strong>t bricolage becomes<br />
important, as Bastide illustrates <strong>in</strong> reference to <strong>the</strong> different constructions <strong>of</strong><br />
collective memory <strong>of</strong> Afro-Americans <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>in</strong> Nor<strong>the</strong>rn America.<br />
In order to expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> mechanism <strong>of</strong> bricolage, Bastide compares two processes,<br />
one that aims at <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> an Afro-American culture and ano<strong>the</strong>r that aims<br />
at <strong>the</strong> conservation <strong>of</strong> a destructive memory, part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘White’ culture.<br />
Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Bastide, society or part <strong>of</strong> society manipulates <strong>the</strong> collective memory<br />
<strong>of</strong> a group. Already <strong>in</strong> schools or <strong>in</strong> textbooks, <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America as well as <strong>in</strong> French<br />
overseas territories, <strong>the</strong> memory <strong>of</strong> Afro-Americans is <strong>in</strong>fluenced by <strong>the</strong> group <strong>of</strong><br />
‘Whites’, people <strong>of</strong> French, Portuguese or Spanish ancestry. Bastide divides <strong>the</strong><br />
consciously driven loss <strong>of</strong> ‘Black current’ with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘ensemble <strong>of</strong> White current’ <strong>in</strong><br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America <strong>in</strong>to three phases (1970: 103–5). 4 In <strong>the</strong> first phase America is divided<br />
up by European countries with <strong>the</strong> result that <strong>in</strong> each part a different historiography<br />
prevails. Dur<strong>in</strong>g this process <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Afro-Americans is separated from <strong>the</strong><br />
history <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Africans. In <strong>the</strong> second phase each national history and its textbooks<br />
value Afro-Americans more highly than previously but without this effect<strong>in</strong>g any real<br />
impact on <strong>the</strong>ir current condition. Afro-American heroes <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> war <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dependence<br />
are celebrated but <strong>the</strong>ir contemporary <strong>in</strong>ferior social position is ignored. The third<br />
phase f<strong>in</strong>ally connects <strong>the</strong> collective memory <strong>of</strong> Afro-Americans with <strong>the</strong> collective<br />
memory <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> society. Performances <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> maroons or <strong>the</strong> soldiers <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> war <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>dependence are presented as a part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> slave emancipation that <strong>the</strong> ‘coloured<br />
masses’ forced on <strong>the</strong> ‘Whites’. In <strong>the</strong> same way <strong>the</strong> héros de la race (heroes <strong>of</strong> race)<br />
are denied <strong>the</strong> glory <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> national army because this is limited to <strong>the</strong> ‘Whites’. In<br />
4 The term Noirs and Blancs (Blacks and Whites) are used <strong>in</strong> French without prejudice<br />
aga<strong>in</strong>st Afro-Americans and Euro-Americans. But because <strong>of</strong> its discrim<strong>in</strong>at<strong>in</strong>g connotation <strong>in</strong><br />
o<strong>the</strong>r languages I ei<strong>the</strong>r translate <strong>the</strong> term <strong>in</strong>to Afro-Americans or reta<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>al word<strong>in</strong>g.
154<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America elements <strong>of</strong> African orig<strong>in</strong> have become only relics that are construed<br />
by and for <strong>the</strong> ‘Whites’ (Bastide 1970: 105).<br />
In North America it is exactly <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r way round, as Bastide expla<strong>in</strong>s. There no<br />
American <strong>of</strong> African descent is allowed to t<strong>in</strong>ker with Anglo-Saxon elements. While<br />
bricolage normally consists <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> search for material <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> past, <strong>the</strong> ‘White’ past <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> is separated from <strong>the</strong> Afro-American past; consequently, a ‘Black culture’<br />
developed with sporadic elements <strong>of</strong> ‘White culture’. The result is an ‘Afro’-pattern<br />
<strong>in</strong> North America with American memories while <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America an ‘America’-<br />
pattern developed with Afro memories. Bastide even accuses North American cultural<br />
anthropology <strong>of</strong> look<strong>in</strong>g at Afro-American culture only as a reversion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘White<br />
culture’. But a simple <strong>in</strong>version is too fragile because every culture has to <strong>in</strong>clude<br />
positive elements. Bastide <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>in</strong>sists that Afro-American culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> is<br />
more than a reversion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> White culture; it has developed its own ethnic identity with<br />
an ongo<strong>in</strong>g historical reality, despite be<strong>in</strong>g a fabricated ethnic group (1970: 105–6).<br />
At this po<strong>in</strong>t it is important to address <strong>the</strong> question concern<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> imag<strong>in</strong>ary that<br />
Bastide dist<strong>in</strong>guishes <strong>in</strong> two forms, a creative and a reproductive. The imag<strong>in</strong>ary can<br />
focus on <strong>the</strong> future, <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> a utopia, but also on <strong>the</strong> past, on memory, as<br />
Bastide illustrates <strong>in</strong> reference to Afro-American identity <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong>. In both forms<br />
‘Whites’ develop <strong>the</strong> models though <strong>the</strong> receiver, <strong>the</strong> Afro-Americans, ignore this<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluence. It is <strong>of</strong>ten assumed that Afro-Americans can assimilate anyth<strong>in</strong>g that <strong>the</strong>y<br />
want. Bastide lists, for <strong>in</strong>stance, a long catalogue <strong>of</strong> elements that are used by Afro-<br />
Americans but orig<strong>in</strong>ated from non-white collective memories, such as memories<br />
<strong>of</strong> ethnographies about African cultures, images from <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> religions,<br />
memories from <strong>the</strong> revolution and <strong>the</strong> war <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dependence, and memories <strong>of</strong> ethnic<br />
m<strong>in</strong>orities such as Puerto Ricans and Hippies (1970: 106–7). But <strong>the</strong> mechanism <strong>of</strong><br />
bricolage refers to <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> a social situation because every situation sees <strong>the</strong><br />
mechanism with a specific mean<strong>in</strong>g that is determ<strong>in</strong>ed by <strong>the</strong> situation and not by <strong>the</strong><br />
group. The relationship between ‘Black’ and ‘White’ <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America as well as <strong>in</strong><br />
North America is <strong>the</strong>refore asymmetric, which <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> a new<br />
culture. The new culture is semantically Black but has significant <strong>in</strong>put from o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
non-Black groups (see Bastide 1970: 108).<br />
Bastide stresses <strong>the</strong> importance <strong>of</strong> local <strong>in</strong>fluences and <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong> collective<br />
memory <strong>in</strong> his confrontation <strong>of</strong> bricolage; hence, <strong>the</strong> process is not mechanical but<br />
depends on a particular situation, time and environment, and <strong>the</strong>refore constantly renews<br />
itself. Bricolage arises <strong>in</strong> a permanent movement; it ends and beg<strong>in</strong>s aga<strong>in</strong>, without<br />
los<strong>in</strong>g its verve. Bastide emphasizes <strong>the</strong> importance <strong>of</strong> society <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> bricolage process<br />
because society manipulates <strong>the</strong> group and <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>the</strong> composition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
handicraft. This perspective is important <strong>in</strong> particular for Afro-American Studies but<br />
also for o<strong>the</strong>r areas. Bastide challenges <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> collective unconscious <strong>of</strong> Lévi-<br />
Strauss with an external <strong>in</strong>fluence. In do<strong>in</strong>g so, his perspective never loses <strong>the</strong> group <strong>of</strong><br />
creative, <strong>in</strong>novative human be<strong>in</strong>gs, subjects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir own culture, though even Bastide<br />
moves <strong>the</strong>m to <strong>the</strong> border. None<strong>the</strong>less, his <strong>in</strong>vestigation illustrates <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
bricolage process, which also became visible <strong>in</strong> my research.
Bricolage as a <strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural Model<br />
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 155<br />
At this po<strong>in</strong>t I return to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> and its <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions. Usually religions<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> context <strong>of</strong> migration are <strong>in</strong>terpreted <strong>in</strong> relationship to identity formation.<br />
Religious belong<strong>in</strong>g is seen as a ‘strategy <strong>of</strong> survival’; 5 even migrants <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> second<br />
generation can develop a sense <strong>of</strong> ‘home’ through belong<strong>in</strong>g to such a religious<br />
community. As my overview <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ethnic composition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious communities<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> has shown, this explanation applies to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions, at<br />
least as long as <strong>the</strong>y are seen only with regard to <strong>the</strong>ir orig<strong>in</strong>al community. Vodou<br />
creates bridges from Brooklyn to Haiti; <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g and <strong>the</strong> music <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-<br />
Orisha Baptist Church recreates for a short time Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago and pushes<br />
aside <strong>the</strong> foreign, <strong>of</strong>ten hostile atmosphere <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. But <strong>the</strong> situation has<br />
changed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last decades because <strong>of</strong> a rapid spread <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions outside <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
orig<strong>in</strong>al community def<strong>in</strong>ed by common descent. Hence, this <strong>in</strong>terpretation expla<strong>in</strong>s<br />
only part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> communities today, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> twenty-first century. The controversy<br />
between <strong>the</strong> believers <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Orisha religion, for <strong>in</strong>stance, who argue about a ‘Cuban’<br />
orientation (<strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g Catholic sa<strong>in</strong>ts) or an ‘African’ orientation (with songs and<br />
prayers <strong>in</strong> Yoruba), already <strong>in</strong>dicates a change <strong>of</strong> identity formation that may happen<br />
after transferr<strong>in</strong>g a religion to a different social and ethnic group.<br />
The Iglesia Universal represents a good example <strong>of</strong> ano<strong>the</strong>r function <strong>of</strong> religion<br />
dur<strong>in</strong>g migration. The Iglesia Universal <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> attends exclusively to<br />
migrants, but without ethnic divisions. The Brazilian orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> denom<strong>in</strong>ation and<br />
<strong>the</strong> Brazilian religious connections are unimportant; <strong>the</strong> community does not <strong>of</strong>fer<br />
identification with <strong>the</strong> country <strong>of</strong> its orig<strong>in</strong>. Instead <strong>of</strong> an emotional connection to<br />
‘home’, <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal promises a solution for problems. However, this help<br />
refers to a Lat<strong>in</strong> American repertoire. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> motto ‘I went wrong but I found<br />
<strong>the</strong> correct path’ <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal <strong>of</strong>fers migrants an alternative home and family.<br />
Though <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r religious communities also represent new ‘families’ for migrants, <strong>the</strong><br />
Iglesia Universal works <strong>in</strong> a different way; <strong>the</strong> alternative family does not rest upon <strong>the</strong><br />
community <strong>of</strong> believers but on <strong>the</strong> religious structure that has similarities to <strong>the</strong> Catholic<br />
structure <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. In both ways – identity based on a community or on a church<br />
hierarchy – <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation refers to a functional understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> each religion whose<br />
composition is <strong>of</strong>ten regarded as static and frozen, as a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> snapshot.<br />
But when we start look<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong>se religious compositions as religious bricolage,<br />
<strong>the</strong> viewpo<strong>in</strong>t changes from a static product to <strong>the</strong> actors whose own <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong><br />
culture is visible <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion. The common characteristics <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> will enable <strong>the</strong> extraction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dynamic cultural<br />
concept. The first step will <strong>the</strong>refore be <strong>the</strong> formulation <strong>of</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> cornerstones, and<br />
<strong>in</strong> a second step <strong>the</strong>y will be extended <strong>in</strong>to a cultural <strong>the</strong>ory. Hence, first I will reduce<br />
Lévi-Strauss’s concept <strong>of</strong> bricolage before, f<strong>in</strong>ally, expand<strong>in</strong>g it radically.<br />
5 I have also <strong>in</strong>terpreted religions <strong>in</strong> this way, see Schmidt 1998b.
156<br />
Religious Bricolage <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Despite <strong>the</strong>ir differences <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions I presented <strong>in</strong> Chapter 3 have<br />
some common characteristics with regard to religious practice, religious content and<br />
structure. One core aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir religious practice is that all groups are assembled<br />
around a charismatic leader who is even sometimes replaceable, as <strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Iglesia Universal has demonstrated <strong>in</strong> particular. Though <strong>the</strong> forced replacement <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> lead<strong>in</strong>g pastor should actually restrict <strong>the</strong> establishment <strong>of</strong> a strong relationship<br />
between congregation and m<strong>in</strong>ister, it illustrates <strong>the</strong> significance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> charismatic<br />
personality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> leader; his actual person is overshadowed by <strong>the</strong> anonymous<br />
function <strong>of</strong> a charismatic leader.<br />
The Iglesia Universal also illustrates that, despite <strong>the</strong>ir rigidity, church structures<br />
are quite unimportant for <strong>the</strong> congregation because <strong>the</strong>y favour <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividualistic<br />
orientation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religion. The members even participate regularly when <strong>the</strong>y do not<br />
live <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> neighbourhood because <strong>the</strong>y choose <strong>the</strong> community based on <strong>in</strong>dividual<br />
factors such as <strong>the</strong> leader and <strong>the</strong> religious orientation. The discrepancy between<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividualistic orientation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> members and <strong>the</strong> authoritarian structure <strong>of</strong><br />
some groups supports <strong>the</strong> relatively easy adaptation <strong>of</strong> religious content to a new<br />
environment, as I will expla<strong>in</strong> later. It also allows contact between different religious<br />
communities on a high level; members always follow <strong>the</strong> decision <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> leader (or<br />
withdraw from <strong>the</strong> group). Hence, ano<strong>the</strong>r characteristic is <strong>the</strong> relatively frequent<br />
cooperation <strong>of</strong> different communities that work toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> order to achieve political<br />
aims more <strong>of</strong>ten than <strong>the</strong>y might have <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir country <strong>of</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>. Even when some<br />
members reject <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terchange with o<strong>the</strong>r groups, all <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> leaders I <strong>in</strong>terviewed<br />
had various contacts, on different levels, with o<strong>the</strong>r communities.<br />
The core aspect <strong>of</strong> religious practice is <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual religious experience, <strong>in</strong><br />
particular <strong>the</strong> manifestation <strong>of</strong> religious entities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> believers, even when<br />
it has a negative connotation as <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal. As <strong>the</strong> religious<br />
history <strong>of</strong> Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> illustrates, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual experience <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
num<strong>in</strong>ous can even overshadow <strong>the</strong> significance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> oracles which is regarded by<br />
some priests as <strong>the</strong> superior form <strong>of</strong> div<strong>in</strong>ation. The experience becomes more important<br />
than <strong>the</strong> communication with <strong>the</strong> orichas. This is connected to <strong>the</strong> next aspect, <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> emotions dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> rituals that constitute religious practice. The foreign<br />
and <strong>of</strong>ten hostile surround<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong>ten suppress <strong>the</strong> sensual and emotional experiences<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migrants; <strong>the</strong>y feel reluctant to express anger or joy openly. While migrants (or<br />
second generation migrants) usually develop new forms <strong>of</strong> expression after some years,<br />
new and illegal migrants have difficulties with it. The festivals <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious groups<br />
<strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orichas and lwa <strong>of</strong>fer opportunities to cry, scream, weep or laugh, and<br />
<strong>the</strong>refore to express every feel<strong>in</strong>g openly without any fear <strong>of</strong> rejection.<br />
This aspect is connected to ano<strong>the</strong>r one: dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> reunions nobody is left alone with<br />
his or her emotions. In every religious community <strong>the</strong>re are people who care for those<br />
who are overwhelmed by <strong>the</strong>ir emotions. Every community has a support network. They<br />
help, for <strong>in</strong>stance, somebody who is so overwhelmed dur<strong>in</strong>g a possession that he/she<br />
needs help to free <strong>the</strong>mselves aga<strong>in</strong>; or <strong>the</strong>y protect <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> a person dur<strong>in</strong>g religious<br />
manifestation by tak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong>f jewellery or by catch<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> body before it falls to <strong>the</strong> floor.<br />
This support network is connected to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternal structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community and its<br />
hierarchy <strong>of</strong> positions, which enables members to develop strength. This empowerment
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 157<br />
<strong>of</strong> one’s own abilities is not limited to religious abilities, but also <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g<br />
people’s self-confidence and self-esteem. The group supports <strong>the</strong> members <strong>in</strong> develop<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir abilities and acquir<strong>in</strong>g higher positions with<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> community.<br />
Ano<strong>the</strong>r central characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious communities is <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic<br />
aspect. Every community has its own aes<strong>the</strong>tic modes <strong>of</strong> expression. Santeros and<br />
santeras create artistic thrones for <strong>the</strong> orichas where <strong>the</strong>y can settle down dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> bembés. Vodouisants create flamboyant altars for <strong>the</strong> lwa to which <strong>the</strong>y have a<br />
ritual connection. 6 On <strong>the</strong> pedestal <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
is an altar with an artistic pyramid <strong>of</strong> religious paraphernalia (see Figure 3.3). And<br />
even <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal, whose aes<strong>the</strong>tic is not baroque and flamboyant at all but<br />
nearly sterile and pure, decorates <strong>the</strong> hall dur<strong>in</strong>g services. The communities address<br />
not only <strong>the</strong> visual sense but also <strong>the</strong> acoustic sense to a much stronger degree. In<br />
all religious communities music serves predom<strong>in</strong>antly as a form <strong>of</strong> worship and as<br />
a means <strong>of</strong> attract<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> num<strong>in</strong>ous entities. S<strong>in</strong>g<strong>in</strong>g and background music – <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
communities with Afro-American tradition ma<strong>in</strong>ly drum music and <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia<br />
Universal an electronic piano – <strong>of</strong>ten represent <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> attraction for <strong>the</strong> members<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> communities, over and above <strong>the</strong> religious function. Some people converted<br />
after be<strong>in</strong>g attracted by <strong>the</strong> power <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> music. Closely connected to <strong>the</strong> music is<br />
<strong>the</strong> movement, <strong>the</strong> dance, which is also part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic attraction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> groups.<br />
The movement embodies <strong>in</strong>dividual expression comb<strong>in</strong>ed with strict gestures. For<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance, every oricha and lwa expresses itself with a specific movement. Dur<strong>in</strong>g<br />
a manifestation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> body <strong>of</strong> a believer <strong>the</strong> body will <strong>the</strong>n move accord<strong>in</strong>g to<br />
<strong>the</strong>se rules. The o<strong>the</strong>r believers will support <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> an oricha or lwa by<br />
danc<strong>in</strong>g with <strong>the</strong> movements <strong>of</strong> this oricha or lwa. As I have shown <strong>in</strong> Chapter 2 <strong>the</strong><br />
movements are even performed and taught <strong>in</strong> a non-religious context. None<strong>the</strong>less,<br />
despite <strong>the</strong>se rules, dur<strong>in</strong>g a manifestation any believer is free to express as he or she<br />
wants. The differences between <strong>in</strong>dividual manifestations are particularly spectacular<br />
<strong>in</strong> Vodou, for <strong>in</strong>stance, when at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> a ceremony <strong>the</strong> Gédés mount several<br />
bodies. It is fasc<strong>in</strong>at<strong>in</strong>g to observe how much <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual realization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> same<br />
manifestation varies, despite similarities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> – <strong>of</strong>ten quite obscene – gestures.<br />
The comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> different styles creates a real work <strong>of</strong> art. The music,<br />
<strong>the</strong> movement and <strong>the</strong> decoration <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> room with <strong>the</strong> altar, <strong>the</strong> thrones or <strong>the</strong><br />
Stations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Cross toge<strong>the</strong>r have a dramatic effect on everyone; all <strong>the</strong> senses <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> participants are touched. This aes<strong>the</strong>tic level <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions is one <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong><br />
characteristics <strong>of</strong> all <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions.<br />
Apart from common aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious practices, <strong>the</strong>re are also some<br />
similarities <strong>in</strong> religious content. However, <strong>the</strong>y are more difficult to extract because<br />
<strong>the</strong>y do not refer simply to <strong>the</strong> similar worship <strong>of</strong> Ochún (<strong>in</strong> Santería and <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-<br />
Orisha Baptist Church) and Erzulie (<strong>in</strong> Vodou) but to structural elements. Analogies<br />
between <strong>the</strong> div<strong>in</strong>e entities <strong>in</strong> Vodou and Santería are easy to expla<strong>in</strong> with a common<br />
African orig<strong>in</strong>; but <strong>the</strong>y are still central only <strong>in</strong> studies <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> tradition <strong>of</strong> Melville<br />
Herskovits. Structural commonalities have more significance because <strong>the</strong>y suggest<br />
cornerstones <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural model.<br />
Quite obvious is <strong>the</strong> fact that every religious community reacts to <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong><br />
African-Americans and Afro-American elements, but <strong>in</strong> different ways. The Iglesia<br />
6 See, for <strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> pictures <strong>in</strong> Thompson 1993.
158<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Universal, for <strong>in</strong>stance, has excluded Afro-Brazilian orixás from its canon though<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brazil <strong>the</strong>y have been part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> worldview <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian ‘mo<strong>the</strong>r’ church as<br />
demons. In sermons <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn and Queens m<strong>in</strong>isters prefer to demonize Catholic<br />
sa<strong>in</strong>ts <strong>in</strong>stead. The o<strong>the</strong>r communities I presented <strong>in</strong> Chapter 3 are undergo<strong>in</strong>g a process<br />
<strong>of</strong> ‘africanization’ at <strong>the</strong> moment and <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly stress <strong>the</strong> African elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Diaspora</strong>, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church with its specially developed<br />
African festivals. Santería <strong>in</strong> particular discusses its African heritage. Many believers,<br />
especially African-Americans, try to revitalize <strong>the</strong>ir lost connection to Africa – as<br />
<strong>the</strong> foundation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba temple <strong>in</strong> Harlem shows. This development is not an<br />
<strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> new elements but a shift <strong>of</strong> emphasis on elements already present. For<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance, <strong>the</strong> worldview <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Shouter <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago also <strong>in</strong>cludes Shango<br />
elements, but by choos<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> name Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, <strong>the</strong> founder openly<br />
demonstrated <strong>the</strong> importance <strong>of</strong> its African and Baptist traditions.<br />
In addition, all <strong>the</strong> religions I have discussed react to <strong>the</strong>ir surround<strong>in</strong>gs with <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>tegration <strong>of</strong> new elements such as <strong>the</strong> Buddha <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church.<br />
Though he is still not present <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> pan<strong>the</strong>on <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> believers, <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> his<br />
statue already symbolizes <strong>the</strong> poly<strong>the</strong>istic framework <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> church and <strong>the</strong> strategy<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> leader to make his church cosmopolitan: all are welcome, all believers as well<br />
as all religious entities. Often, <strong>the</strong>re are differences between <strong>the</strong> leader <strong>of</strong> a group<br />
and <strong>the</strong> members about this <strong>in</strong>tegration; <strong>in</strong> particular members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>al ethnic<br />
core group are sometimes more reserved than <strong>the</strong>ir leader about foreign <strong>in</strong>fluences as<br />
well as foreign visitors. While <strong>the</strong> founders and leaders <strong>of</strong> communities encourage<br />
openness and try to br<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> new members, established members <strong>of</strong>ten demonstrate<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir scepticism and <strong>the</strong>ir distance from <strong>the</strong> newcomers with <strong>the</strong>ir body language or by<br />
us<strong>in</strong>g dialects. After <strong>in</strong>itiation <strong>the</strong> newcomers assist <strong>in</strong> open<strong>in</strong>g up <strong>the</strong> community by<br />
attract<strong>in</strong>g new members as well as by <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g new elements. As converts <strong>the</strong>y are<br />
<strong>of</strong>ten much better <strong>in</strong>formed about <strong>the</strong> religion than <strong>the</strong> older members and support <strong>the</strong><br />
leader <strong>in</strong> his or her effort to modify <strong>the</strong> community and to <strong>in</strong>tegrate new elements. 7 The<br />
exception is aga<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong> members seem to be more open<br />
towards new elements than <strong>the</strong> leaders who, when <strong>the</strong>y want to <strong>in</strong>crease <strong>the</strong>ir position<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> hierarchy, follow <strong>the</strong> rules strictly while ord<strong>in</strong>ary members can attend to any<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r religious ritual <strong>in</strong> addition to <strong>the</strong> one <strong>of</strong>fered by <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal.<br />
Even <strong>the</strong> function <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se religious communities shows some similarities. They<br />
<strong>of</strong>fer help <strong>in</strong> every situation, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g medical or physical problems as well as<br />
social, familial or mental problems. One important role <strong>the</strong>y play is to affirm to<br />
troubled persons that <strong>the</strong>y are not responsible for <strong>the</strong> disturbance, hence <strong>the</strong>y are<br />
not guilty. Only after <strong>the</strong> imag<strong>in</strong>ed guilt is taken from <strong>the</strong> troubled person is he or<br />
she able to participate <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> heal<strong>in</strong>g, which is an important aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cure. The<br />
Iglesia Universal even advertises this functional effect <strong>of</strong> rituals on TV; but <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
communities attract new members with this <strong>of</strong>fer as well, though not everyone will<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>ue to practise for a long time.<br />
Because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g number <strong>of</strong> members, most groups have to<br />
<strong>in</strong>stitutionalize. While some still do not want to become such a formal church as <strong>the</strong><br />
Iglesia Universal, <strong>the</strong> pressure on <strong>the</strong> communities is gett<strong>in</strong>g stronger. Hence some<br />
7 African-Americans are <strong>of</strong>ten more than reserved towards new members who do not<br />
have a visible African heritage.
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 159<br />
leaders are consider<strong>in</strong>g adapt<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir surround<strong>in</strong>gs and gett<strong>in</strong>g registered as a<br />
formal church as, for example, <strong>the</strong> Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church has already done.<br />
It is possible to characterize religious bricolage by <strong>the</strong> follow<strong>in</strong>g common<br />
elements. This characterization will not describe a homogeneous <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
religiosity but is a structural model which will lead me later to <strong>the</strong> cultural concept<br />
<strong>of</strong> bricolage. Religious bricolage can be def<strong>in</strong>ed as:<br />
1. Open and dynamic mixtures <strong>of</strong> diverse elements. But it is important to realize<br />
that <strong>the</strong> process is not a syn<strong>the</strong>sis or a simple mix<strong>in</strong>g but syncretism, described<br />
by Michael Pye as <strong>the</strong> ‘temporary ambiguous coexistence <strong>of</strong> elements from<br />
diverse religious and o<strong>the</strong>r contexts with<strong>in</strong> a coherent religious pattern’<br />
(1971: 93). The multiple possibilities <strong>in</strong> a syncretistic situation exist <strong>in</strong> a<br />
permanent tension that h<strong>in</strong>ders a f<strong>in</strong>al result; hence <strong>the</strong> composition can<br />
cont<strong>in</strong>uously change or even collapse (Pye 1994: 220).<br />
2. Creative actors. Members <strong>of</strong> a religious community <strong>the</strong>mselves choose from<br />
a range <strong>of</strong> possibilities, accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong>ir expectations and wishes, and <strong>in</strong><br />
so do<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>y <strong>the</strong>mselves create <strong>the</strong> religious concept. Often <strong>the</strong>y orientate<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir decisions accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> wishes <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> charismatic leader but <strong>the</strong>y can<br />
separate <strong>the</strong>mselves from <strong>the</strong> group if <strong>the</strong>y do not like <strong>the</strong> direction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
leader. The <strong>in</strong>dividuality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions outweighs <strong>the</strong>ir authority structures.<br />
3. Interplay between reaction and action. In addition <strong>the</strong>re are several external<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluences on <strong>the</strong> religious communities that among o<strong>the</strong>rs support <strong>the</strong> grow<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong>stitutionalization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions. In order to become accepted and recognized<br />
by <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> more and more leaders decide to register <strong>the</strong>ir community <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial register <strong>of</strong> religious communities, hence <strong>the</strong>y (freely) accept <strong>the</strong><br />
relatively strict regulations that go hand <strong>in</strong> hand with this registration.<br />
4. Dependence on context and situation. A comparison <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religious<br />
communities with regard to <strong>the</strong>ir development <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> illustrates<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> historical periods dur<strong>in</strong>g which <strong>the</strong>y developed as well<br />
as <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir social contexts. Although all religions were created<br />
<strong>in</strong> similar historical circumstances (slavery, colonization, suppression <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
religion and so on) <strong>the</strong>y have developed differently. In particular <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternal<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluences were significant for <strong>the</strong> development, which illustrates <strong>the</strong> reflexive<br />
self-<strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> history and social context.<br />
5. Address<strong>in</strong>g all <strong>the</strong> senses. All religious communities demonstrate <strong>the</strong><br />
importance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> sensual level <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir religious composition. The comb<strong>in</strong>ation<br />
<strong>of</strong> music, movement and ornament creates religious artefacts, which are central<br />
for <strong>the</strong> believers confronted by surround<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>the</strong>y regard as hostile, cold and<br />
senseless. The festivals and ceremonies create a hot, ‘tropical’ atmosphere<br />
that symbolizes not only a bridge to <strong>the</strong> mo<strong>the</strong>rland but a contrast to reality.<br />
Bricolage as Polyphonic Cultural Theory<br />
In his novella Concierto barroco (1974) <strong>the</strong> Cuban novelist Alejo Carpentier<br />
presents a perfect example <strong>of</strong> polyphonic culture, although his novella is not written
160<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
polyphonically. Carpentier describes <strong>in</strong> his fable <strong>the</strong> meet<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> Antonio Vivaldi,<br />
Georg Friedrich Händel and Domenico Scarletti with a Mexican traveller – dressed<br />
as Montezuma – and his Cuban servant, dur<strong>in</strong>g carnival <strong>in</strong> a café <strong>in</strong> Rome. Toge<strong>the</strong>r<br />
<strong>the</strong>y experience a gorgeous night <strong>of</strong> music. The central part is a grand concert, a<br />
concierto grosso, which <strong>the</strong> three musicians create with harpsichord, organ and<br />
viol<strong>in</strong> and an orchestra <strong>of</strong> seventy female musicians. At <strong>the</strong> end Filomeno, <strong>the</strong><br />
Cuban servant, is drawn <strong>in</strong>to it; he starts to beat on a battery <strong>of</strong> copper kettles with<br />
kitchenware and o<strong>the</strong>r tools and <strong>in</strong> this way <strong>in</strong>vents new rhythms, syncopations and<br />
contra sounds. Led by Filomeno <strong>the</strong> participants create a fantastic symphony that<br />
breaks all musical rules and produces a state <strong>of</strong> euphoria.<br />
In his novella Carpentier abolishes all barriers and leads <strong>the</strong> reader <strong>in</strong> a musical<br />
journey through various countries and times. Historic time or l<strong>in</strong>ear progress is not<br />
important for <strong>the</strong> author who handles time very freely. Years become seconds, <strong>the</strong><br />
African slave becomes a Cuban servant and <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> end an American Jazz musician<br />
who <strong>in</strong>corporates Santería symbols. In addition Carpentier illustrates <strong>the</strong> chang<strong>in</strong>g<br />
self-reception <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> protagonist, <strong>the</strong> Mexican traveller. At <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g he<br />
identifies nearly exclusively with his Spanish heritage; only after his disillusion <strong>in</strong><br />
Madrid and <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ebriation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> senses <strong>in</strong> Rome does he start to recognize his<br />
American, hence his <strong>in</strong>digenous heritage. The catalyst for his transformation is<br />
aga<strong>in</strong> a musical experience; dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> performance <strong>of</strong> Vivaldi’s opera Montezuma<br />
he discovers – because <strong>of</strong> its particular <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> history – his own wish<br />
for a different historical f<strong>in</strong>ish. Sensual experiences cause him not only to dress <strong>in</strong><br />
his costume; he becomes Montezuma, an <strong>in</strong>digenous. The novella f<strong>in</strong>ishes with a<br />
different k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> concert, led by Louis Armstrong and his trumpet.<br />
In his journey through time Carpentier presents an impressive <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong><br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American culture. He stresses especially <strong>the</strong> sensuousness and <strong>the</strong> playful<br />
ease that can break barriers. Though his medium, <strong>the</strong> novella, does not allow<br />
long explanations, with its breaks and jumps <strong>in</strong> time he demonstrates a concept <strong>in</strong><br />
opposition to l<strong>in</strong>ear European concepts. Rigidity vanishes <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> such a<br />
musical hurly-burly. In a similar way all structures that Lévi-Strauss had formally<br />
construed vanish <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> euphoria <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Savage M<strong>in</strong>d. Though Carpentier does not<br />
let his protagonists speak <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir own voice, he construes an impressive image <strong>of</strong> a<br />
polyphonic culture <strong>in</strong> his novella. His novella is <strong>the</strong> start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t that will lead us to<br />
a polyphonic culture; but before proceed<strong>in</strong>g to that discussion I will summarize <strong>the</strong><br />
ma<strong>in</strong> aspects <strong>of</strong> cultural bricolage.<br />
Bricolage signifies that a culture will be arranged accord<strong>in</strong>g to <strong>the</strong> wishes and<br />
expectations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> people and that <strong>the</strong> composition <strong>of</strong> a culture depends on <strong>the</strong><br />
materials and tools that are available. Extend<strong>in</strong>g Lévi-Strauss’s concept, I have<br />
shown above that <strong>the</strong> composition depends on <strong>the</strong> operat<strong>in</strong>g subject, whe<strong>the</strong>r it is a<br />
group <strong>of</strong> human be<strong>in</strong>gs or an <strong>in</strong>dividual. Society also <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>the</strong> process, through<br />
<strong>the</strong> situation that produces <strong>the</strong> changes and through <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>tention <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> changes.<br />
Look<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong> bricolage concept <strong>of</strong> Lévi-Strauss <strong>in</strong> an elaborated sense, it illustrates<br />
<strong>the</strong> narrow relationship between bricolage and bricoleur, between <strong>the</strong> product and<br />
<strong>the</strong> subject, because <strong>the</strong> latter is always present <strong>in</strong> every product. Hence, bricolage<br />
can be understood only <strong>in</strong> relationship to <strong>the</strong> bricoleur, <strong>the</strong> operat<strong>in</strong>g subject. The<br />
<strong>in</strong>novative process is comb<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong>separably with <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>novative actor as, for example,
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 161<br />
Terence Turner wrote: ‘It is crucial that <strong>the</strong> structures <strong>in</strong> question be recognized as<br />
operational structures, that is, as functional procedures for construct<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> objects<br />
or qualities predicated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> tropic relation’ (1995:151). And he cont<strong>in</strong>ues:<br />
The mean<strong>in</strong>g is <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> do<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> operations, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> construction <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> form, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
stand<strong>in</strong>g up and sitt<strong>in</strong>g down, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> fly<strong>in</strong>g and <strong>the</strong> danc<strong>in</strong>g, ra<strong>the</strong>r than <strong>the</strong> flight, <strong>the</strong><br />
dance, <strong>the</strong> araras, or <strong>the</strong> lap, as positive entities or synchronic relations. (1995: 151)<br />
Bricolage cannot be compared to a mosaic <strong>of</strong> colourful stones because it implies a<br />
never-end<strong>in</strong>g process. As <strong>the</strong> do-it-yourself person is never satisfied with <strong>the</strong> result<br />
and always tries to revise someth<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> composition <strong>of</strong> a culture always changes.<br />
Every situation, every new <strong>in</strong>fluence alters <strong>the</strong> culture.<br />
This short description based on Lévi-Strauss’s concept already shows <strong>the</strong><br />
necessity to elaborate his concept when adapt<strong>in</strong>g it to cultural mix<strong>in</strong>gs. At this po<strong>in</strong>t<br />
I come back to <strong>the</strong> Russian literary scholar Mikhail Bakht<strong>in</strong> and his <strong>in</strong>terpretation<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> polyphonic novel (1968). Based on his <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> works <strong>of</strong> Fyodor<br />
M. Dostoevsky and François Rabelais, Bakht<strong>in</strong> developed a concept <strong>of</strong> a polyphonic<br />
culture <strong>of</strong> laughter that still <strong>in</strong>spires academia. While Rabelais lived dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
Renaissance, ‘<strong>the</strong> only period <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> European literature which marked<br />
<strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> a church language and a l<strong>in</strong>guistic transformation’ (Bakht<strong>in</strong> 1968:<br />
465), Dostoevsky lived through <strong>the</strong> ‘traumatic impact <strong>of</strong> capitalism upon Russian<br />
traditionalism <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> early n<strong>in</strong>eteenth century’, described by Bakht<strong>in</strong> as ‘a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong><br />
historical border zone <strong>of</strong> conflict<strong>in</strong>g views’ (Morris 1994: 15). The common aspect<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> two is <strong>the</strong> transgression, <strong>the</strong> cross<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> border l<strong>in</strong>es.<br />
Bakht<strong>in</strong>’s start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t is <strong>the</strong> l<strong>in</strong>guistic situation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> European Renaissance that<br />
he def<strong>in</strong>es as a period <strong>of</strong> two languages, a time when vernacular languages began to ga<strong>in</strong><br />
acceptance <strong>in</strong> opposition to Lat<strong>in</strong>, <strong>the</strong> formerly dom<strong>in</strong>ant language. The existence <strong>of</strong> a<br />
frontier between two languages that also separated two worldviews <strong>in</strong>fluenced everyth<strong>in</strong>g<br />
accord<strong>in</strong>g to Bakht<strong>in</strong>, every idea, every standpo<strong>in</strong>t, every term. But <strong>the</strong> border between<br />
<strong>the</strong> languages does not only implicate <strong>the</strong> simple coexistence <strong>of</strong> two languages, it also<br />
<strong>in</strong>dicates <strong>the</strong> grow<strong>in</strong>g awareness <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> language’s frontier. Every language became<br />
aware <strong>of</strong> its possibilities and limitations <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r language. 8<br />
Bakht<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>n identifies each language with a specific culture, though <strong>the</strong> boundary<br />
between <strong>the</strong> languages and <strong>the</strong> one between <strong>the</strong> cultures were not always identical.<br />
Hence, <strong>the</strong> vernacular language did not exclusively belong to popular culture and<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> did not exclusively belong to <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial culture. Vernacular language was a<br />
language <strong>of</strong> life, <strong>of</strong> physical work, <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> everyday, <strong>the</strong> language <strong>of</strong> deprived genres, <strong>of</strong><br />
laughter and free speech. Despite this, <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial language <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> time represented <strong>the</strong><br />
popular culture as be<strong>in</strong>g weak and deformed. But <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g spread <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> popular<br />
languages <strong>in</strong>troduced new evaluations and new ideas. Bakht<strong>in</strong> regards it <strong>the</strong>refore as<br />
important and positive that <strong>the</strong> translations accomplished <strong>in</strong> this time were not fixed<br />
or complete; and that language was created dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> translation. Bakht<strong>in</strong><br />
describes <strong>the</strong> ‘literary-l<strong>in</strong>guistic consciousness’ <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Renaissance as an ability to<br />
8 Hence, Bakht<strong>in</strong> dist<strong>in</strong>guishes polyphony from heteroglossia: polyphony <strong>in</strong>dicates that<br />
<strong>the</strong> different voices <strong>in</strong>teract on equal terms whereas heteroglossia h<strong>in</strong>ts at a class between <strong>the</strong><br />
antagonists (see Morris 1994).
162<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
see its own language <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> light <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r languages. Dogmatism or naivety became<br />
impossible because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> awareness <strong>of</strong> its own limitation as well as its potentialities<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> light <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r (Bakht<strong>in</strong> 1968: 465), hence only a process <strong>of</strong> change can<br />
overcome dogmatism. Consequently Bakht<strong>in</strong> promotes <strong>in</strong> his work an active plurality<br />
<strong>of</strong> ideas and cultures connected to <strong>the</strong> ability ‘to see one’s own media from <strong>the</strong> outside,<br />
that is, through <strong>the</strong> eyes <strong>of</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r’ (1968: 471). He cont<strong>in</strong>ues:<br />
If <strong>the</strong> creative spirit lives <strong>in</strong> one language only, or if several languages coexist but rema<strong>in</strong><br />
strictly divided without struggl<strong>in</strong>g for supremacy, it is impossible to overcome <strong>the</strong><br />
dogmatism buried <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> depths <strong>of</strong> l<strong>in</strong>guistic consciousness. It is possible to place oneself<br />
outside one’s own language only when an essential historic change <strong>of</strong> language occurs.<br />
(Bakht<strong>in</strong> 1968: 471)<br />
Based on this transgression, this cross<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> borders, Bakht<strong>in</strong> focuses on <strong>the</strong><br />
carnivalization <strong>of</strong> popular culture and <strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘culture <strong>of</strong> laughter’. The<br />
Renaissance is <strong>the</strong> summit <strong>of</strong> carnivalesque life; <strong>in</strong> particular Bakht<strong>in</strong> praises <strong>the</strong><br />
grotesque figures <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> work <strong>of</strong> Rabelais (c.1494–1553) as literary masterstrokes.<br />
He characterizes a culture <strong>of</strong> laughter <strong>in</strong> three ways: (1) universalism <strong>of</strong> laughter,<br />
directed predom<strong>in</strong>ately at <strong>the</strong> upper class, not <strong>in</strong> detail but on <strong>the</strong> whole. Laughter<br />
creates a counter world, aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial world, aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> <strong>of</strong>ficial church and <strong>the</strong><br />
state, visible <strong>in</strong> particular dur<strong>in</strong>g carnival; (2) freedom <strong>of</strong> laughter that is un<strong>of</strong>ficial<br />
but legalized, also visible dur<strong>in</strong>g carnival; (3) comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> laughter with <strong>the</strong><br />
un<strong>of</strong>ficial truth <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> people because laughter implies overcom<strong>in</strong>g fear, hence a<br />
victory over fear. Laughter reveals <strong>the</strong> ‘truth’ about <strong>the</strong> world and its power and<br />
liberates from external and <strong>in</strong>ternal censorship.<br />
With <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g stabilization <strong>of</strong> order dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> seventeenth century laughter<br />
and <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong> laughter were suppressed more and more. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong>re are<br />
still relics visible, for <strong>in</strong>stance on <strong>the</strong> stage <strong>of</strong> popular <strong>the</strong>atres.<br />
The same cross<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> boundaries and conflict<strong>in</strong>g views can be seen also <strong>in</strong><br />
Dostoevsky’s work (1821–81). For Bakht<strong>in</strong>, Dostoevsky describes everyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
moment <strong>of</strong> an <strong>in</strong>complete transition; everyth<strong>in</strong>g is exaggerated to <strong>the</strong> extreme. In<br />
order to describe Dostoevsky’s <strong>in</strong>novative narrative form, Bakht<strong>in</strong> uses <strong>the</strong> term<br />
polyphony. With this term Bakht<strong>in</strong> focuses our attention on a certa<strong>in</strong> style, to <strong>the</strong><br />
‘acute awareness <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> multivoicedness <strong>of</strong> all discourse’ (Morris 1994: 14), which<br />
can be found also <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r novels such as <strong>the</strong> novella by Carpentier described above<br />
or even <strong>in</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> rituals <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, as I will expla<strong>in</strong> later. Bakht<strong>in</strong> praises<br />
Dostoevsky <strong>in</strong> particular for his open-endedness to subjective consciousnesses. He<br />
writes that <strong>in</strong> Dostoevsky’s work<br />
a hero appears whose voice is constructed exactly like <strong>the</strong> voice <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> author himself<br />
<strong>in</strong> a novel <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> usual type. A character’s word about himself and his world is just as<br />
fully weighted as <strong>the</strong> author’s word usually is, it is not subord<strong>in</strong>ated to <strong>the</strong> character’s<br />
objectified image, nor does it serve as a mouthpiece for <strong>the</strong> author’s voice. It possesses<br />
extraord<strong>in</strong>ary <strong>in</strong>dependence <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> structure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> work; it sounds, as it were, alongside<br />
<strong>the</strong> author’s word and <strong>in</strong> a special way comb<strong>in</strong>es both with it and with <strong>the</strong> full and equally<br />
valid voices <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r characters. (Bakht<strong>in</strong> 1984: 7)
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 163<br />
Dostoevsky is not <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> present<strong>in</strong>g a hero as a manifestation <strong>of</strong> a fixed reality<br />
but ‘as a particular po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong> view on <strong>the</strong> world and on oneself’; hence, it is not<br />
important how a hero appears to <strong>the</strong> world, but only ‘how <strong>the</strong> world appears to<br />
his hero and how <strong>the</strong> hero appears to himself’ that matters to Dostoevsky (Bakht<strong>in</strong><br />
1984: 47). Bakht<strong>in</strong> argues that this perspective destroys <strong>the</strong> established form <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
fundamentally monologic European novel. In a monologic design a hero is closed and<br />
his semantic boundaries are strictly def<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> a rigid framework, but <strong>in</strong> a polyphonic<br />
novel <strong>the</strong> genu<strong>in</strong>e life <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> personality comes to life. It permits Dostoevsky to<br />
penetrate <strong>the</strong> deepest layers <strong>of</strong> people and human relationships. All <strong>the</strong> typical<br />
characteristics that enable an author to describe a hero become for Dostoevsky ‘<strong>the</strong><br />
object <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> hero’s own <strong>in</strong>trospection, <strong>the</strong> subject <strong>of</strong> his self-consciousness; and<br />
<strong>the</strong> subject <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> author’s visualization and representation turns out to be <strong>in</strong> fact a<br />
function <strong>of</strong> this self-consciousness’ (Bakht<strong>in</strong> 1984: 48). Never<strong>the</strong>less, as Bakht<strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>sists, it is important to observe a distance between <strong>the</strong> hero and <strong>the</strong> author; a hero<br />
should always be represented as self-conscious, hence he should not ‘fuse with<br />
<strong>the</strong> author’ nor become ‘<strong>the</strong> mouthpiece for his voice’ (1984: 51). Consequently,<br />
polyphony is not <strong>the</strong> mere presentation <strong>of</strong> specific language styles, social dialects<br />
and so on (this would signify expression <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> representation); what matters<br />
is ‘<strong>the</strong> dialogical angle at which <strong>the</strong>se styles and dialects are juxtaposed or counter<br />
posed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> work’ (Bakht<strong>in</strong> 1984: 182), hence <strong>the</strong> dialogic relationship. Recently,<br />
Sol Montoya (2000) has transferred Bakht<strong>in</strong>’s approach to her study <strong>of</strong> Colombian<br />
carnival, <strong>in</strong>troduc<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> term polyvalence. Based on Bakht<strong>in</strong>, Montoya def<strong>in</strong>es<br />
polyvalence as <strong>the</strong> demonstration <strong>of</strong> different possibilities for understand<strong>in</strong>g and<br />
handl<strong>in</strong>g a situation, an event or a person. Instead <strong>of</strong> solutions, polyvalence presents<br />
<strong>the</strong> possibilities <strong>of</strong> solutions (Montoya 2000: 67). While Carpentier, for <strong>in</strong>stance,<br />
tries to <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>the</strong> reader <strong>in</strong> his direction, Rabelais and o<strong>the</strong>r representatives <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
culture <strong>of</strong> laughter always present both angles, hence <strong>the</strong>y play with <strong>the</strong> reader. The<br />
culture <strong>of</strong> laughter <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Renaissance and <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r periods studied by Bakht<strong>in</strong> can be<br />
<strong>the</strong>refore described as cultural mestizaje (Montoya 2000: 22).<br />
Montoya leads me back to <strong>the</strong> debate about cultural concepts <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America.<br />
She argues that Bakht<strong>in</strong>’s <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> carnival as a festival <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>version is not<br />
possible to transfer to Lat<strong>in</strong> American mixed cultures (mestizo cultures) because<br />
<strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America a community is 100 per cent present dur<strong>in</strong>g carnival (Montoya<br />
2000: 68). She sees <strong>in</strong> Bakht<strong>in</strong>’s work a rigidity that can be applied more to <strong>the</strong><br />
reception <strong>of</strong> his work than to <strong>the</strong> work itself. Though he regards carnival <strong>in</strong>deed as<br />
an <strong>in</strong>version <strong>of</strong> reality, he later expands his concept by referr<strong>in</strong>g to an ambiguity<br />
that unifies <strong>the</strong> two poles and <strong>in</strong>fluences everyth<strong>in</strong>g. The laughter at carnival<br />
can w<strong>in</strong> over fear but also express joy; hence carnival can suspend <strong>the</strong> order as<br />
well as openly prolong it. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>in</strong>terest<strong>in</strong>g for <strong>the</strong> debate is that Montoya<br />
<strong>in</strong>cludes Bakht<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> her discussion about mestizaje and hybridization, though only<br />
marg<strong>in</strong>ally. After criticiz<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical debate about culture <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America<br />
she argues, with reference to Bakht<strong>in</strong>, for a stronger <strong>in</strong>clusion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> local culture.<br />
She describes mestizo cultures as polyphonic, but unlike Bakht<strong>in</strong> she recognizes a<br />
common ‘melody’. Hence, while Bakht<strong>in</strong> uses polyphony as a way to illustrate <strong>the</strong><br />
diversity <strong>of</strong> perspectives and <strong>in</strong>cludes arguments and contradictions <strong>in</strong> his model,<br />
Montoya uses polyphony as a common framework that <strong>in</strong>cludes diverse aspects. She
164<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
refers, for <strong>in</strong>stance, to polyphony when she describes <strong>the</strong> performance <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>digenous<br />
music, waltz and Spanish pasodoble dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> Riosucio, Columbia. Her<br />
wish for a common framework, a melody, <strong>in</strong>fluences her cultural concept, too. She<br />
def<strong>in</strong>es cultures as a complex merge <strong>of</strong> historical processes and cultural encounters,<br />
created through a process <strong>of</strong> mix<strong>in</strong>g. This process assimilates o<strong>the</strong>r processes <strong>in</strong> a<br />
homogeneous discourse that does not represent a purely <strong>in</strong>digenous or European<br />
perspective, or a condition <strong>in</strong> between (Montoya 2000: 21). The image <strong>of</strong> a comb<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g<br />
border corresponds to <strong>the</strong> ideas about mixed cultures that I described and discussed<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> last chapter. It is already obvious that <strong>the</strong> cultural <strong>the</strong>oretical debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> has developed <strong>in</strong> a non-l<strong>in</strong>ear way.<br />
From <strong>the</strong> beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong> central po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> debate was deal<strong>in</strong>g with <strong>the</strong> mixture <strong>of</strong><br />
cultures. Nearly all <strong>the</strong> concepts emphasize <strong>the</strong> result <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> focus<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> creative<br />
process. The perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> observer has become <strong>the</strong> critical po<strong>in</strong>t from which to<br />
dist<strong>in</strong>guish <strong>the</strong> different concepts. In order to illustrate <strong>the</strong> weakness <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se concepts<br />
I confronted <strong>the</strong>m with examples <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions; an ethnographic reality<br />
became <strong>the</strong> prism for <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ory. The confrontation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mestizaje discourse with <strong>the</strong><br />
Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church, for <strong>in</strong>stance, illustrated that, <strong>in</strong> spite <strong>of</strong> a pluralistic<br />
approach, <strong>the</strong> protagonists <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> school still imply cultural homogenization. Mestizaje<br />
aims at <strong>the</strong> assimilation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> foreign to transform it <strong>in</strong>to someth<strong>in</strong>g familiar; <strong>the</strong><br />
special characteristics <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘foreign’ are <strong>the</strong>n totally neglected.<br />
The <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> hybridization – though construed as a counter-strategy – also<br />
emphasizes <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>corporation <strong>of</strong> cultural elements <strong>in</strong> a dom<strong>in</strong>ant system that <strong>the</strong>y<br />
will enrich. Though hybridization implies a permanent process <strong>of</strong> new orientation,<br />
it still <strong>in</strong>cludes a centralistic perspective. But as one can see with reference to <strong>the</strong><br />
religions, cultures need a framework to arrange new elements, but no centralistic<br />
structures. The image <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> decentralized fabric that Zires <strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> debate<br />
seems to overcome this weakness, but her perspective, too, is focused on <strong>the</strong> result<br />
and not on <strong>the</strong> creative process.<br />
The Brazilian debate is also <strong>in</strong>fluenced by <strong>the</strong> model that is a rem<strong>in</strong>der <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Hispano-American mestizaje debate, and aims at homogenization. The only<br />
difference is that luso-tropicalismo <strong>in</strong>cludes African elements but, as Bastide argues,<br />
only as an enrichment <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant culture. Any aspect that is negatively perceived<br />
rema<strong>in</strong>s neglected, for <strong>in</strong>stance <strong>the</strong> outsider <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> bipolar and ra<strong>the</strong>r idealized model<br />
<strong>of</strong> Roberto da Matta.<br />
However, postmodern literary studies <strong>in</strong> Brazil discuss <strong>the</strong> experiences <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
O<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir debate about specific styles. Instead <strong>of</strong> homogenization <strong>the</strong> perspective<br />
is on <strong>the</strong> production <strong>of</strong> difference, ei<strong>the</strong>r difference between author and novel or<br />
difference <strong>in</strong>side a text. Au<strong>the</strong>nticity and uniqueness lose <strong>the</strong>ir overrated significance<br />
for literature. This debate illustrates <strong>the</strong> ethnographic presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
religions where au<strong>the</strong>nticity was never an achievement. The displacement <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
static opposition <strong>in</strong> favour <strong>of</strong> an open confession <strong>of</strong> differentness corresponds more<br />
to <strong>the</strong> reality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions which <strong>in</strong>clude new deities and spirits <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir pan<strong>the</strong>ons,<br />
as <strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Iglesia Universal demonstrates.<br />
As dist<strong>in</strong>ct from <strong>the</strong> quite abstract approaches to mix<strong>in</strong>g and mixture, creolization<br />
locates <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong> mixture on a specific place, <strong>the</strong> plantation, <strong>the</strong> place <strong>of</strong><br />
slavery, or at <strong>the</strong> border <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> plantation, <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>es. This localization <strong>of</strong> creolization
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 165<br />
corresponds aga<strong>in</strong> with <strong>the</strong> reality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions that <strong>in</strong> addition regards religious<br />
space such as <strong>the</strong> Vodou temple as <strong>the</strong> central place <strong>of</strong> encounters and mix<strong>in</strong>gs.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, even <strong>the</strong> creolization debate <strong>in</strong>cludes a bipolar schema that cannot be<br />
transferred to processes <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> twenty-first century.<br />
<strong>New</strong> urban concepts demonstrate <strong>the</strong> limitations <strong>of</strong> cultural studies that cannot<br />
cope with diversity, as is illustrated by <strong>the</strong>se religious comparisons. While a Vodou<br />
temple can be seen as place for encounter and mix<strong>in</strong>g, it is also a virtual place that<br />
exists only <strong>in</strong> connection to a Haitian temple. In <strong>the</strong> context <strong>of</strong> complex cultural<br />
models, diversity is <strong>of</strong>ten <strong>in</strong>terpreted <strong>in</strong> a functionalistic way as resistance aga<strong>in</strong>st<br />
<strong>the</strong> cultural pressure <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> centre; new migration studies, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, stress<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuality <strong>of</strong> dest<strong>in</strong>ies and <strong>the</strong> diversity <strong>of</strong> decisions. The event described at<br />
<strong>the</strong> close <strong>of</strong> Chapter 4 illustrated <strong>the</strong> complexity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> urban construct but also <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>dividuality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> performances.<br />
This short summary <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> debates <strong>in</strong>cludes <strong>the</strong> central perspectives whose<br />
positions were not developed <strong>in</strong> a l<strong>in</strong>ear order but sometimes simultaneously. By<br />
stress<strong>in</strong>g different aspects <strong>the</strong>y present a variety <strong>of</strong> ideas, some contradictory, o<strong>the</strong>rs<br />
supplementary. Most new approaches show that <strong>the</strong> dream <strong>of</strong> a homogeneous future<br />
has ended, though it still cont<strong>in</strong>ues sublim<strong>in</strong>ally <strong>in</strong> some concepts. Also, most Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American <strong>the</strong>ories oppose bipolar models, <strong>the</strong> confrontation <strong>of</strong> modern/traditional<br />
and urban/rural that is still <strong>in</strong>cluded <strong>in</strong> Lévi-Strauss’s system. Consequently <strong>the</strong><br />
idea <strong>of</strong> an orig<strong>in</strong>al purity <strong>of</strong> two opposite categories became out-dated as a basis <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> mixture. Now, <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ories look on mixture <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>s, though some<br />
seem to forget <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> operative subject. More and more <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ories<br />
emphasize <strong>the</strong> location <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mixture, and <strong>the</strong>refore beg<strong>in</strong> to detect ethnographic<br />
reality. It becomes evident that cultures reject <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>corporation <strong>in</strong>to global schemas<br />
though some models still tend to such a functional <strong>in</strong>clusion.<br />
Despite <strong>the</strong> differences <strong>the</strong> models have one common characteristic, <strong>the</strong><br />
monological perspective that creates <strong>the</strong> impression that <strong>the</strong> members <strong>of</strong> a group<br />
speak with one voice alone. The <strong>the</strong>ories neglect that a number <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividuals construe<br />
a culture speak<strong>in</strong>g with different voices. In a similar way as collective memory<br />
develops out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>teraction <strong>of</strong> community members and external <strong>in</strong>fluences, a<br />
cultural repertoire is also composed <strong>of</strong> complex currents. My way to address this<br />
problem is <strong>the</strong> elaboration <strong>of</strong> bricolage, polyphonic cultural <strong>the</strong>ory.<br />
Bricolage characterizes a culture that is composed <strong>of</strong> elements <strong>of</strong> different cultural<br />
orig<strong>in</strong>; but <strong>the</strong>se orig<strong>in</strong>al cultures are not considered to be au<strong>the</strong>ntically homogeneous.<br />
These elements, which can alter <strong>the</strong>ir mean<strong>in</strong>g, are comb<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>in</strong> an anti-central<br />
structure. Important elements can become decorative ones, or even vanish <strong>in</strong> ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />
moment. There are only a few fixed elements which are surrounded by constantly<br />
diverse o<strong>the</strong>rs. The composition <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> elements changes depend<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> situation,<br />
location, time and creators <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> culture because <strong>the</strong> culture <strong>of</strong> a group differs for each<br />
member. Each person focuses on different elements <strong>in</strong> an <strong>in</strong>dividual way.<br />
It is <strong>the</strong>refore possible to <strong>in</strong>clude foreign elements whenever a member <strong>of</strong> a<br />
group comes <strong>in</strong>to contact with <strong>the</strong>m and considers <strong>the</strong>m important. In <strong>the</strong> same way<br />
it is possible to exclude old elements whenever <strong>the</strong>y are los<strong>in</strong>g importance for <strong>the</strong><br />
majority <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> members. Bricolage does not imply a mixture <strong>of</strong> two or three cultures<br />
but <strong>the</strong> rearrangement <strong>of</strong> elements <strong>of</strong> diverse orig<strong>in</strong>.
166<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
The bricoleurs – here a synonym for a group <strong>of</strong> creative subjects, <strong>the</strong> creators<br />
<strong>of</strong> a culture – work autonomously. Though society, or part <strong>of</strong> it, can <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>the</strong><br />
process, <strong>the</strong> exchange <strong>of</strong> elements depends on <strong>the</strong> free will <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> group itself. It is<br />
even possible that <strong>the</strong> composition changes <strong>in</strong> opposition to <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant society,<br />
not because <strong>of</strong> pressure but <strong>in</strong> spite <strong>of</strong> it.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, surround<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong>fluence <strong>the</strong> bricoleurs. They alter <strong>the</strong>ir culture when<br />
<strong>the</strong>y move to a new place. Each culture refers <strong>in</strong> its composition to an ethnographic<br />
location. Universal models represent <strong>the</strong>refore limited value.<br />
The bricoleurs become aware <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>novations as soon as <strong>the</strong>y become visible to<br />
<strong>the</strong>m. The location <strong>of</strong> new cultures is <strong>the</strong>refore <strong>of</strong>ten at <strong>the</strong> border between different<br />
groups that is <strong>the</strong> best place for exchange.<br />
The composition <strong>of</strong> a culture illustrates <strong>the</strong> perspective <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> bricoleur on <strong>the</strong><br />
world and on him/herself. Elements that one member stresses <strong>in</strong> opposition to o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
members po<strong>in</strong>t towards <strong>the</strong> reflexive <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> one’s culture and are important<br />
for <strong>the</strong> understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> this perception and <strong>the</strong> culture. Individuality leads to<br />
<strong>the</strong> existence <strong>of</strong> different statements for <strong>the</strong> same culture. Instead <strong>of</strong> an abstract,<br />
homogeneous creator <strong>of</strong> a culture, each situation allows different (and equivalent)<br />
solutions. This polyphony prevents <strong>the</strong> creation <strong>of</strong> a homogeneous entity.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> cultural model are <strong>the</strong> bricoleurs, <strong>the</strong> people. Their position has<br />
to be considered <strong>in</strong> relationship to o<strong>the</strong>r bricoleurs. This produces a distance between<br />
<strong>the</strong> observer and creators <strong>of</strong> a culture; <strong>the</strong> observer is always at <strong>the</strong> border <strong>of</strong> a culture,<br />
but also <strong>in</strong> dialogue with <strong>the</strong> creators. The sensual perception <strong>of</strong> cultural elements is<br />
also important dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> dialogue between observer and creators because it leads<br />
to <strong>the</strong> direct exchange <strong>of</strong> elements. Both <strong>the</strong> acceptance and <strong>the</strong> rejection <strong>of</strong> sensual<br />
attractions enable <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>teraction that <strong>in</strong> turn creates a new orientation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> culture.<br />
This list <strong>of</strong> characteristics only describes <strong>the</strong> central aspects <strong>of</strong> bricolage, <strong>the</strong><br />
cornerstones. Never<strong>the</strong>less, it challenges <strong>the</strong> very popular notion which looks at a<br />
culture as a homogeneous picture, as a mosaic <strong>of</strong> colourful stones. The composition<br />
<strong>of</strong> a culture is a never-end<strong>in</strong>g process and it has to be described by many voices<br />
<strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> focus<strong>in</strong>g only on formal elements.<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> – or better, <strong>Caribbean</strong> sub-cultures <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> – represents an excellent example for such a bricolage. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong>tegrates elements <strong>of</strong> diverse orig<strong>in</strong>s that are comb<strong>in</strong>ed only<br />
<strong>in</strong> its new surround<strong>in</strong>gs, <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. But <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong> is not a more or less homogeneous mixture <strong>of</strong> elements. The members <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
group, which <strong>in</strong>clude beside <strong>the</strong> migrants and <strong>the</strong>ir next generation also persons at<br />
<strong>the</strong> border such as African-Americans with a strong <strong>Caribbean</strong> self-identification,<br />
<strong>in</strong>terpret <strong>the</strong>ir culture quite diversely and <strong>in</strong>dividually.<br />
Each member marks different fixed aspects <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir culture, as one can see with<br />
reference to <strong>the</strong> importance <strong>of</strong> language. Kreyòl, <strong>the</strong> Haitian Creole language, is, for<br />
<strong>in</strong>stance, for many a cornerstone <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir identity; Spanish, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, is los<strong>in</strong>g<br />
its importance <strong>in</strong> favour <strong>of</strong> Spanglish, a Spanish-English mixture. But even Kreyól is<br />
los<strong>in</strong>g importance <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> next generation: more and more <strong>Caribbean</strong> novelists liv<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> prefer to publish <strong>in</strong> English <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir Creole mo<strong>the</strong>r<br />
language. On <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, <strong>the</strong> popular <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions are becom<strong>in</strong>g new<br />
cornerstones <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> cultures <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>. At <strong>the</strong> moment Vodou is
A <strong>New</strong> Composition <strong>of</strong> Culture 167<br />
<strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> importance for <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>s <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, whereas <strong>in</strong> previous<br />
decades Santería and Puerto Rican Spiritism were <strong>of</strong> grow<strong>in</strong>g importance.<br />
Africa is <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong> po<strong>in</strong>t <strong>of</strong> reference <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> African <strong>Diaspora</strong> all over <strong>the</strong> world,<br />
<strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g <strong>Caribbean</strong>s <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>, but with an important difference. While Africa<br />
is <strong>of</strong> central significance for all people <strong>of</strong> African descent, <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants always<br />
relate Africa to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> area as <strong>the</strong>ir real orig<strong>in</strong>. For <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> culturally diverse <strong>Caribbean</strong> islands are <strong>the</strong> central aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>; even <strong>the</strong> second and third generation consider <strong>the</strong>mselves <strong>Caribbean</strong>,<br />
with <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> as <strong>the</strong>ir home. They do not refer as <strong>of</strong>ten as African-Americans<br />
to Africa and <strong>the</strong> glorious past <strong>of</strong> Africa, nor do <strong>the</strong>y emphasize <strong>the</strong> plantation as a<br />
place <strong>of</strong> mixture as <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>; <strong>the</strong> islands are important, noth<strong>in</strong>g else, though<br />
<strong>the</strong> significance <strong>of</strong> Africa has been <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g. 9<br />
A central characteristic <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture is <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic element, <strong>the</strong> music,<br />
dance and so on. The <strong>in</strong>corporation <strong>of</strong> deities, for <strong>in</strong>stance, is a common element <strong>of</strong> all<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> religions and as such accepted, as are specific musical styles and movements.<br />
These elements are also important factors <strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>teraction with outsiders, because outsiders<br />
are <strong>of</strong>ten attracted to <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture through its music and movement.<br />
The <strong>in</strong>teraction with outsiders also redef<strong>in</strong>es <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>.<br />
While some groups position <strong>the</strong>mselves <strong>in</strong> opposition to outsiders, o<strong>the</strong>rs <strong>in</strong>tegrate<br />
new elements <strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong>ir cultural repertoire along with foreign persons, new movements<br />
or new music, new deities, spirits or new prayers. The decision about acceptance or<br />
rejection is made by <strong>the</strong> group itself; even when this means that <strong>the</strong> group divides <strong>in</strong>to<br />
two parts because some members are aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> new elements. The reaction <strong>of</strong>ten<br />
depends on <strong>the</strong> situation. The group <strong>in</strong> charge <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> j’ouvert <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn drew (until<br />
recently) a strict l<strong>in</strong>e by exclud<strong>in</strong>g Haitian music groups, while o<strong>the</strong>r participants have<br />
no problems with <strong>the</strong> new music style as <strong>the</strong> carnival later illustrated. In a similar way<br />
<strong>the</strong> acceptance <strong>of</strong> new movements and rhythm <strong>in</strong> religious communities can enrich or<br />
dim<strong>in</strong>ish <strong>the</strong> group. The decision is <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> hands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> members.<br />
In addition to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternal perspective one also has to consider <strong>the</strong> external; <strong>the</strong><br />
composition <strong>of</strong> a culture is <strong>in</strong>fluenced by its <strong>in</strong>teraction with society. The Catholic<br />
Church, for <strong>in</strong>stance, has adapted to <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>g presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> for decades and now <strong>of</strong>fers services <strong>in</strong> Kreyòl and o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
languages, so that <strong>the</strong> church halls have become a place <strong>of</strong> communication.<br />
Simultaneously <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> communities adapt to <strong>the</strong> pressure <strong>of</strong> society by<br />
<strong>in</strong>stitutionaliz<strong>in</strong>g, aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> usual custom <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. This <strong>in</strong>creases <strong>the</strong><br />
position <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> leader who <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>the</strong> role <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r members, and this can<br />
h<strong>in</strong>der <strong>the</strong> dynamics <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> community. But such a dom<strong>in</strong>ant position makes a split <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> community easier and this can lead to <strong>the</strong> withdrawal <strong>of</strong> some members or even<br />
to a schism <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> whole community. This aspect illustrates <strong>the</strong> polyvalence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> because it shows that <strong>the</strong> leader <strong>of</strong> a community as<br />
well as <strong>the</strong> members who leave have polyvalent <strong>in</strong>terpretations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> culture.<br />
The <strong>Caribbean</strong> representatives <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> demonstrate a considerable<br />
flexibility <strong>in</strong> handl<strong>in</strong>g society or <strong>the</strong> dom<strong>in</strong>ant part <strong>of</strong> society. Even if <strong>the</strong>y act<br />
9 African-Americans <strong>in</strong>side <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious communities have a different focus;<br />
<strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>ten construe a <strong>Caribbean</strong> orig<strong>in</strong> through religious l<strong>in</strong>eage.
168<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
under pressure, <strong>the</strong>y <strong>of</strong>ten succeed <strong>in</strong> benefit<strong>in</strong>g from <strong>the</strong> pressure. Cuban Santería<br />
priests, for <strong>in</strong>stance, fought aga<strong>in</strong>st <strong>the</strong> ban on animal sacrifice. Their walk to <strong>the</strong><br />
Supreme Court, which f<strong>in</strong>ally lifted <strong>the</strong> ban, streng<strong>the</strong>ned <strong>the</strong>ir position but also<br />
brought recognition for <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong> <strong>in</strong> general. But when<br />
a community cannot fulfil its legal obligations, it will just ignore <strong>the</strong>m and shut<br />
<strong>the</strong> doors. A similar flexibility can be seen <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church. Although <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> religions adapted its symbols a long time ago, <strong>the</strong> leaders <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic<br />
Church <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>of</strong>ten do not agree to <strong>the</strong>ir unconventional form <strong>of</strong> worship;<br />
consequently <strong>the</strong> followers <strong>of</strong> Dãmbala, who is identified with St Patrick, <strong>of</strong>ten walk<br />
at <strong>the</strong> end <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> procession <strong>in</strong> honour <strong>of</strong> St Patrick. Because it is afraid <strong>of</strong> los<strong>in</strong>g<br />
members, <strong>the</strong> Catholic Church turns a bl<strong>in</strong>d eye and ignores <strong>the</strong>m. Hence, <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong><br />
react<strong>in</strong>g to social pressure it will be redirected until <strong>the</strong>y can f<strong>in</strong>d a niche.<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> illustrates <strong>the</strong> dynamism <strong>of</strong> a polyphonic culture<br />
that is difficult to describe. The term bricolage po<strong>in</strong>ts to <strong>the</strong> construction process as<br />
well as to <strong>the</strong> limited time <strong>of</strong> its existence. Though <strong>the</strong> culture started <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>,<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> has <strong>in</strong>fluenced its composition. In <strong>the</strong> same way <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> is<br />
<strong>in</strong>fluenced by <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> presence. Hence, even <strong>the</strong> urban culture <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong><br />
can be described as a bricolage that <strong>in</strong>cludes and rejects elements through <strong>in</strong>tegration<br />
and <strong>in</strong>teraction with o<strong>the</strong>r systems <strong>in</strong> a permanent momentum. This process is never<br />
complete, but is <strong>in</strong> an ongo<strong>in</strong>g state <strong>of</strong> change, and for this reason my description can<br />
only be a snapshot; <strong>the</strong> list <strong>of</strong> characteristics can never be complete.
Chapter 6<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> vs. Monologue Europe?<br />
J’ouvert, <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival tradition, was <strong>in</strong>troduced <strong>in</strong>to Brooklyn at <strong>the</strong> end<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1980s. S<strong>in</strong>ce <strong>the</strong>n, Monday morn<strong>in</strong>g at dawn, hours before <strong>the</strong> huge carnival<br />
parade, people celebrate a very different carnival tradition. The participants are<br />
covered <strong>in</strong> mud and wear rags <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> glamorous costumes, and steel bands play<br />
live <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> electronically recorded music. I was still very sleepy when I met a<br />
friend at 5 a.m. at a subway station <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn. As was somehow expected <strong>the</strong><br />
parade was not where we thought (or where we were told it would happen). People<br />
blamed <strong>the</strong> police for hav<strong>in</strong>g rearranged <strong>the</strong> route. The owner <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> small drugstore<br />
where we stopped for a cup <strong>of</strong> c<strong>of</strong>fee, as well as o<strong>the</strong>r owners <strong>of</strong> similar small shops,<br />
looked very sceptically at <strong>the</strong>se foreign customers com<strong>in</strong>g so early <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> morn<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
They had no idea about j’ouvert and regarded <strong>the</strong> shrill traffic as a threat.<br />
We quickly followed <strong>the</strong> trail <strong>of</strong> garbage on <strong>the</strong> streets. At some corners we<br />
noticed groups <strong>of</strong> police <strong>of</strong>ficers wait<strong>in</strong>g for trouble. F<strong>in</strong>ally we heard <strong>the</strong> music.<br />
The number <strong>of</strong> people <strong>in</strong>creased radically. Suddenly we were <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> a<br />
crowd danc<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong> street around steel bands. Even without barriers and (visible)<br />
police presence <strong>the</strong> situation was absolutely peaceful. Despite <strong>the</strong> crowd I never felt<br />
threatened. After a while we were immersed <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> crowd and jo<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> danc<strong>in</strong>g<br />
around <strong>the</strong> musicians. The participants came from every social group; every<br />
generation was represented, as well as every social class. One common characteristic<br />
was <strong>the</strong>ir sk<strong>in</strong> colour; with few exceptions <strong>the</strong> people <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> crowd came from <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> or at least <strong>the</strong>ir parents and grandparents had done. We listened ma<strong>in</strong>ly to<br />
English but o<strong>the</strong>r languages – Kreyòl, Patois and so on – were also present. We were<br />
<strong>in</strong> Brooklyn but also <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>, but <strong>in</strong> an ‘unreal’ <strong>Caribbean</strong> because such a<br />
mixture exists only <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> (see Figure 6.1).<br />
While this research has focused on <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture and religions, I will now<br />
separate <strong>the</strong> text from its regional foundation and look at o<strong>the</strong>r cultural landscapes.<br />
Both Lévi-Strauss and Bakht<strong>in</strong> construed <strong>the</strong>ir models <strong>in</strong> opposition to Europe.<br />
Whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> image <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> eng<strong>in</strong>eer or <strong>the</strong> monologue, Europe always represented<br />
a different, <strong>of</strong>ten pejorative category <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir models. But like <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Europe<br />
has also experienced immense transformation. Large migration movements have<br />
led to various encounters <strong>of</strong> diverse cultures dur<strong>in</strong>g Europe’s history. However, <strong>the</strong><br />
contact was structured <strong>in</strong> a different way. Instead <strong>of</strong> regard<strong>in</strong>g foreign <strong>in</strong>fluences<br />
as an <strong>in</strong>spiration, as a way to enrich <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>al culture, <strong>the</strong>y were seen as a threat<br />
that had to be rejected. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong> wealth <strong>of</strong> foreign <strong>in</strong>fluences <strong>in</strong> European<br />
cultures illustrates openness <strong>in</strong> European m<strong>in</strong>ds beyond this superficial rejection.<br />
Only when <strong>the</strong> quest for progress became dom<strong>in</strong>ant and monopolized th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g did<br />
our culture become oriented towards monologue.
170<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Figure 6.1 Participants at <strong>the</strong> J’ouvert (1999)<br />
While Lévi-Strauss draws his l<strong>in</strong>e after Neolithic times, Bakht<strong>in</strong> regards <strong>the</strong><br />
Renaissance as <strong>the</strong> most vibrant time. Hence, both scholars refer to chang<strong>in</strong>g times<br />
<strong>in</strong> European history. Both schemas work with a very simplistic perspective <strong>in</strong> order<br />
to construe <strong>the</strong>ir bipolar way <strong>of</strong> th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g. They exclude any nuances <strong>in</strong> between, any<br />
<strong>in</strong>termediate tones. But any culture, <strong>in</strong>clud<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> European ones, conta<strong>in</strong>s nuances <strong>in</strong><br />
between that do not adhere to static models but <strong>in</strong>clude polyphonic characteristics. The<br />
‘Savage M<strong>in</strong>d’ is <strong>the</strong>refore visible <strong>in</strong> European cultures; it is <strong>in</strong>deed <strong>the</strong> basis <strong>of</strong> most<br />
cultures. Whoever has been to a flea market <strong>in</strong> Berl<strong>in</strong>, to <strong>the</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> Basel or to <strong>the</strong><br />
market <strong>in</strong> Nott<strong>in</strong>g Hill, London, knows that not everyth<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> Europe has developed <strong>in</strong> a<br />
l<strong>in</strong>ear l<strong>in</strong>e <strong>of</strong> progress; <strong>the</strong>re are many breaks, circles and loops. Cultural composition is<br />
not made out <strong>of</strong> one block as <strong>of</strong>ten suggested. Like <strong>Caribbean</strong> cultures, Europe also has<br />
an ability to <strong>in</strong>corporate new elements and transform <strong>the</strong>m, <strong>in</strong> particular on <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic,<br />
sensual levels such as art and food, as <strong>the</strong> appearance <strong>of</strong> more and more <strong>in</strong>ternational<br />
fast food and takeaway shops illustrates. While at <strong>the</strong>se po<strong>in</strong>ts <strong>the</strong> systems are open<br />
to change and <strong>in</strong>clude enthusiastic new <strong>in</strong>fluences, <strong>the</strong>y react to o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong>terfaces <strong>in</strong> a<br />
closed and hostile way. The decision about <strong>in</strong>clusion or exclusion is <strong>of</strong>ten open and<br />
depends on <strong>the</strong> situation, though people tend to react to political and social pressure.<br />
All <strong>the</strong>se aspects <strong>of</strong> European cultures have already been demonstrated <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
book <strong>in</strong> some way because all <strong>the</strong> people I have described live <strong>in</strong> a town with a<br />
strong European <strong>in</strong>fluence. Nowadays, <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> <strong>in</strong>creas<strong>in</strong>gly <strong>in</strong>fluences many<br />
European metropolises, perhaps with <strong>the</strong> exception <strong>of</strong> Paris and Istanbul. Museums<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> present ‘European culture’ better than any European museum.<br />
Someone who wants to study European history should look for it <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>.
<strong>Caribbean</strong> vs. Monologue Europe? 171<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, I also found <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same metropolis, mak<strong>in</strong>g it my<br />
start<strong>in</strong>g po<strong>in</strong>t for describ<strong>in</strong>g polyphonic bricolage.<br />
Bricolage is not restricted to <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture but refers to a composition<br />
process that can be found <strong>in</strong> many cultures, though not <strong>in</strong> every culture because<br />
it implies a certa<strong>in</strong> treatment <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>novation that <strong>in</strong>corporates foreign elements and<br />
makes <strong>the</strong>m familiar. Static, rigid cultures – whose members restrict <strong>the</strong>mselves<br />
from <strong>the</strong>ir surround<strong>in</strong>gs and do not open <strong>the</strong>mselves to foreigners – are not <strong>in</strong>cluded<br />
because <strong>the</strong>y do not freely adapt to new <strong>in</strong>fluences. But usually <strong>the</strong>se cultures are<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> m<strong>in</strong>ority because a group can only survive when it adapts to changes, hence,<br />
when it ‘lives’. Even <strong>the</strong> strongest borders become porous <strong>in</strong> certa<strong>in</strong> situations or<br />
break down. Clifford Geertz describes our world as a spectrum <strong>of</strong> mixed differences<br />
while Lévi-Strauss (accord<strong>in</strong>g to Geertz) still operates <strong>in</strong> a world designed by a<br />
discont<strong>in</strong>uous comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> separated differences (Geertz 1993b: 142). <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
culture represents a comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> mixed differences that coexist simultaneously<br />
and separately as well. We cannot look at it apart from our own culture; <strong>the</strong> world is<br />
no longer divided <strong>in</strong>to a huge dichotomy between ‘civilization’ and ‘savagery’. The<br />
polyphonic <strong>Caribbean</strong> is also present <strong>in</strong> Europe, though most <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> time <strong>in</strong> secret.<br />
Bricolage is possible at any moment and at any location, but not to <strong>the</strong><br />
same degree <strong>in</strong> all contexts. Polyphonic elements exist <strong>in</strong> cultural <strong>in</strong>terspaces <strong>in</strong><br />
particular. The ‘borders’ between cultures and cultural <strong>in</strong>terfaces illustrate that <strong>the</strong>re<br />
is no exclusiveness <strong>in</strong> culture; one cannot regard a culture as absolute. Even <strong>the</strong><br />
protagonists <strong>of</strong> a Euro-American culture <strong>in</strong>corporate elements <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same way that protagonists <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture adapt Euro-American aspects.<br />
The process <strong>of</strong> new orientation and <strong>the</strong> adaptation <strong>of</strong> foreign elements does not<br />
happen just because <strong>of</strong> external pressure. Though hierarchical structures <strong>in</strong>fluence<br />
<strong>the</strong> process, <strong>the</strong> process depends on <strong>the</strong> people and <strong>the</strong>ir expectations. The creativity<br />
that is <strong>of</strong>ten ignored <strong>in</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r cultural <strong>the</strong>ories is at <strong>the</strong> centre <strong>of</strong> bricolage because<br />
<strong>the</strong> bricoleurs decide on <strong>the</strong> choice <strong>of</strong> elements. At <strong>the</strong> same time <strong>the</strong>y illustrate<br />
‘th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g outside <strong>of</strong> systems’, a th<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g that is not focused on rigid, pre-designed<br />
schemas (Münzel 2000: 213, 212).<br />
A central aim <strong>of</strong> this book is <strong>the</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical debate with ethnographic<br />
research. Instead <strong>of</strong> constru<strong>in</strong>g a <strong>the</strong>oretical concept at an abstract level, <strong>the</strong> ethnographic<br />
orientation should illustrate how cultural phenomena can be ‘thought about’ and how <strong>the</strong>y<br />
confront and enrich <strong>the</strong>oretical concepts. Religious phenomena – that have such a great<br />
fasc<strong>in</strong>ation for me – are especially perfect for cultural <strong>the</strong>oretical studies because <strong>the</strong>y,<br />
too, are sometimes confronted with similar prejudices. While scholars <strong>of</strong>ten focus on socalled<br />
‘au<strong>the</strong>ntic’ forms, believers prefer <strong>the</strong> mixed, syncretistic forms that represent <strong>the</strong><br />
cultural wealth <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> practitioners. This diversity can lead to problems, though, because<br />
<strong>the</strong> ‘particularity’ <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>dividual solutions cannot be transferred to o<strong>the</strong>rs. But I have not<br />
aimed at generalization; a polyphonic approach can only present <strong>in</strong>dividual perspectives<br />
as Karl-He<strong>in</strong>z Kohl states <strong>in</strong> his <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> myths (1998: 285–6). Myths represent<br />
<strong>the</strong> collective memory <strong>of</strong> a group but <strong>the</strong>y are not collective products without any<br />
<strong>in</strong>dividual creativity. Mark Münzel’s work <strong>in</strong> South America demonstrated that <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>dividual performance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> narrators <strong>of</strong> myths, <strong>the</strong>ir poetry and <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong>ality <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
narratives, enrich <strong>the</strong> collective tradition (2000: 212–13). In this sense my <strong>in</strong>vestigation<br />
also rests upon <strong>in</strong>dividual perspectives <strong>of</strong> collective creations that are born out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>
172<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
context <strong>of</strong> religious communities. My ethnographic examples are only a selection <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
diversity <strong>of</strong> variations, and can only represent a limited reality. I do not want to dim<strong>in</strong>ish<br />
<strong>the</strong>ir mean<strong>in</strong>g but to qualify <strong>the</strong>m. The numerous o<strong>the</strong>r comb<strong>in</strong>ations that exist and will<br />
develop <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> future do not question <strong>the</strong> bricolage model, as it refers to <strong>the</strong> process <strong>of</strong><br />
composition and not to <strong>the</strong> mosaic <strong>of</strong> details. With <strong>the</strong>ir brilliant religious formations <strong>the</strong><br />
protagonists <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> culture demonstrate that <strong>the</strong>re is no stagnancy <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> process<br />
<strong>of</strong> new arrangements; we are cont<strong>in</strong>uously develop<strong>in</strong>g new forms.<br />
My <strong>in</strong>vestigations followed Gerd Baumann’s ‘new pathway through <strong>the</strong><br />
anthropological three-step’. They start <strong>in</strong> an <strong>in</strong>terdiscipl<strong>in</strong>ary way and develop a<br />
new analysis <strong>of</strong> old problems with <strong>the</strong> specific anthropological concept <strong>of</strong> culture,<br />
and end with <strong>the</strong> creative and <strong>of</strong>ten liberat<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>version <strong>of</strong> established questions<br />
(Baumann 2000: 157). In particular <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terdiscipl<strong>in</strong>ary discussion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> concept <strong>of</strong><br />
culture <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America <strong>in</strong>spires anthropology, though it has to be transformed <strong>in</strong> an<br />
anthropological way. Only context-sensitive methods such as participant observation<br />
can produce a network <strong>of</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>gful details that comb<strong>in</strong>es <strong>the</strong> whole with its<br />
parts and makes <strong>in</strong>ternal contradictions visible (see Baumann 2000: 166, 167). The<br />
confrontation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ories with <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions has shown <strong>the</strong> weaknesses<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ories because <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir lack <strong>of</strong> ethnographic contextualization, as well as <strong>the</strong>ir<br />
strength. I followed this path by comb<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> debate about cultural concepts with <strong>the</strong><br />
anthropological discussion <strong>of</strong> bricolage, because <strong>the</strong> new arrangement <strong>of</strong> unexpected<br />
details turns established questions upside down (see Baumann 2000: 167). Hence,<br />
<strong>the</strong> comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical contributions from Lat<strong>in</strong> America with ethnographical<br />
research <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> enriched <strong>the</strong> discussion about bricolage and <strong>the</strong> Savage<br />
M<strong>in</strong>d as a form <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> creative treatment <strong>of</strong> mythical components.<br />
But not all creative <strong>in</strong>novations are seen <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same way, because a system can<br />
develop <strong>in</strong> a direction that seems to be strange or contradictory from <strong>the</strong> outside. In <strong>the</strong><br />
anthropology <strong>of</strong> religion <strong>the</strong> success <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> fundamentalist churches <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America<br />
h<strong>in</strong>ders any <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American religious structures. The fasc<strong>in</strong>ation that<br />
<strong>of</strong>ten <strong>in</strong>fluences anthropological studies dim<strong>in</strong>ishes when confronted with <strong>the</strong> consumer<br />
orientation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>se churches. None<strong>the</strong>less, <strong>the</strong>se systems also allow us important<br />
<strong>in</strong>sights <strong>in</strong>to Lat<strong>in</strong> American cultures. Anthropological research should not focus only<br />
on systems that share our values; an <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>of</strong> systems with o<strong>the</strong>r standards is<br />
perhaps even more important for <strong>the</strong> emic understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America.<br />
This should not imply that anthropology should forget its claim to be a critical<br />
science when we put our research <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> service <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> subjects, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> same way<br />
as anthropology rema<strong>in</strong>ed critical despite be<strong>in</strong>g part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> colonial system (Kohl<br />
2000: 81). In <strong>the</strong> time <strong>of</strong> an ethnic renaissance anthropology should not rema<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
middle <strong>of</strong> sterile debates about constructive character, but should ra<strong>the</strong>r regard <strong>the</strong><br />
construed similarities – whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y are <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> area <strong>of</strong> identity, religions or nations – from<br />
an emic perspective before analys<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>ir mean<strong>in</strong>g from an academic perspective.<br />
At this po<strong>in</strong>t I will discuss <strong>the</strong> understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> anthropology on which my<br />
<strong>in</strong>vestigation is based. I localize my research <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> context <strong>of</strong> current discussions<br />
<strong>of</strong> an extended understand<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> anthropology which aims to overcome <strong>the</strong> strict<br />
limitations <strong>of</strong> our discipl<strong>in</strong>e. I regard <strong>the</strong> dialogue with arts as particularly fertile for<br />
anthropology – <strong>the</strong> literary arts as well as <strong>the</strong> f<strong>in</strong>e arts – though we should be aware<br />
who is speak<strong>in</strong>g. Joseph Beuys, for <strong>in</strong>stance, does not expla<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong> his performance
<strong>Caribbean</strong> vs. Monologue Europe? 173<br />
<strong>the</strong> ethnographic background <strong>of</strong> shamanism or its academic <strong>in</strong>terpretation. He just<br />
illustrates how <strong>the</strong> experience <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> O<strong>the</strong>r can be transformed and how academic<br />
results can be received by society (see Wiener 2000: 243). The anthropological<br />
<strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> contemporary Western art cannot replace ethnographic<br />
<strong>in</strong>vestigations but can open new pathways, and hence can enrich anthropology. 1<br />
Aes<strong>the</strong>tic impressions – whe<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y are from <strong>the</strong> f<strong>in</strong>e arts or <strong>the</strong> literary arts – can<br />
create fasc<strong>in</strong>at<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong>novations <strong>in</strong> anthropology. My own research was <strong>in</strong>fluenced<br />
by <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic fasc<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong> religious manifestations. In <strong>the</strong> middle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘crisis<br />
<strong>of</strong> representation’ that paralysed anthropology for a long time, <strong>the</strong> debate about<br />
ethnopoetry and o<strong>the</strong>r aes<strong>the</strong>tic production led <strong>the</strong> way out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> ‘Ivory tower <strong>of</strong><br />
science’ (see also Münzel, Schmidt and Thote 2000: 7–8).<br />
The aes<strong>the</strong>tic turn is particularly important <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> discussion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong><br />
fieldwork, still <strong>the</strong> def<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g moment <strong>of</strong> anthropology because it leads to a new form <strong>of</strong><br />
research. Though my own research is also based on ethnographic research, it was not<br />
conducted <strong>in</strong> a small village, far away from <strong>the</strong> new town, but <strong>in</strong> a metropolis, hence<br />
under much better conditions than <strong>the</strong> fieldwork <strong>of</strong> Claude Lévi-Strauss or Bronislaw<br />
Mal<strong>in</strong>owski. 2 Some problems such as <strong>the</strong> cancellation <strong>of</strong> appo<strong>in</strong>tments or festivals<br />
were similar, but o<strong>the</strong>rs were not. For <strong>in</strong>stance, I was not with <strong>in</strong>terviewees for long<br />
hours and days on end, but could return to <strong>the</strong> privacy <strong>of</strong> my flat after <strong>the</strong> festival or <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>terviews. The participation at a ceremony was sometimes uncomfortable – similar<br />
to <strong>the</strong> one <strong>in</strong> a village – or difficult to reach and I had to get used to it; but I also sat <strong>in</strong><br />
a comfortable chair, listened to a presentation <strong>in</strong> a museum or observed a performance<br />
on stage. I participated at dance workshops, met my <strong>in</strong>terviewees <strong>in</strong> restaurants or<br />
pubs and went to a concert <strong>of</strong> Cuban musicians. All <strong>the</strong>se appo<strong>in</strong>tments were part <strong>of</strong><br />
my fieldwork on <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions, which gave me important <strong>in</strong>sights<br />
<strong>in</strong>to <strong>the</strong> spread <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> religions and <strong>the</strong>ir cont<strong>in</strong>uously chang<strong>in</strong>g structures. Instead <strong>of</strong><br />
compla<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g about <strong>the</strong> ‘lost object <strong>of</strong> anthropology’ I rediscovered it <strong>in</strong> new forms<br />
(see Kohl 1998: 17). The apparently ‘lost object’ <strong>of</strong> anthropology lives <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> pub<br />
or <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>atre, <strong>the</strong> basement <strong>of</strong> a house or a bleak room <strong>in</strong> an empty build<strong>in</strong>g, and<br />
presents its brilliant sides <strong>in</strong> cont<strong>in</strong>uously new perspectives. In focus<strong>in</strong>g on <strong>the</strong>se<br />
new sides <strong>in</strong> my <strong>in</strong>vestigation and <strong>in</strong> look<strong>in</strong>g at new cultural mixtures <strong>in</strong>stead <strong>of</strong> at<br />
traditional homogeneous cultures I present new ways <strong>of</strong> do<strong>in</strong>g anthropology <strong>in</strong> this<br />
book, methodologically as well as <strong>the</strong>matically. The <strong>in</strong>terfaces are always marked<br />
by <strong>the</strong> creativity <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> protagonists, <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religious believers as well as<br />
<strong>the</strong> representatives <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> American and <strong>Caribbean</strong> postmodernism. Hence, not<br />
only are <strong>the</strong> religious mixtures creative <strong>in</strong>novations, but so, too, are <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical<br />
debates <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America and <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. The latter represent a new field <strong>of</strong><br />
anthropology though still ignored by anthropologists who consider <strong>the</strong> areas as just<br />
1 Ute Ritschel unifies, for <strong>in</strong>stance, cultural anthropology and <strong>the</strong>atre studies with<br />
performance art because she is an artist but also works as an academic on art. See also Johannes<br />
Lothar Schröder who declares that performance art with its nuances is perfect for <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>vestigation<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>terface between science and art. He regards performance <strong>the</strong>refore as <strong>the</strong> new field <strong>of</strong><br />
anthropologists (Schröder 2000: 194). Ritschel, on <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r hand, characterizes <strong>the</strong> work <strong>of</strong> an art<br />
performer as research, as a k<strong>in</strong>d <strong>of</strong> artistic fieldwork (2000: 210, referr<strong>in</strong>g to Greverus 1990).<br />
2 I discussed <strong>the</strong> different k<strong>in</strong>ds <strong>of</strong> fieldwork <strong>in</strong> Schmidt 2004.
174<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
regions for fieldwork, and not as producers <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical contributions. None<strong>the</strong>less,<br />
<strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>oretical debates show a similar creativity to <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> religions.<br />
My fasc<strong>in</strong>ation for such creations led me to ano<strong>the</strong>r aspect <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> aes<strong>the</strong>tic turn<strong>in</strong>g<br />
po<strong>in</strong>t: <strong>the</strong> observation <strong>of</strong> foreign expressions as works <strong>of</strong> art. The comb<strong>in</strong>ation <strong>of</strong><br />
acoustic, visual and e<strong>the</strong>real impressions dur<strong>in</strong>g a religious ceremony toge<strong>the</strong>r<br />
produce a work <strong>of</strong> art that enables <strong>the</strong> participant observer to overcome <strong>the</strong> limits<br />
<strong>of</strong> observation. Religious ceremonies are similar to modern art <strong>in</strong>stallations or<br />
performances that communicate even when <strong>the</strong> observer does not understand <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>in</strong>tention <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> artist. In <strong>the</strong> same way religious manifestations <strong>of</strong> African deities<br />
and spirits affect even <strong>the</strong> most sceptical participant who observes <strong>the</strong> ceremony,<br />
dizzy with music, smells and artistic altars <strong>in</strong> a basement or a garage <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong>. The presence <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> deities cannot be expla<strong>in</strong>ed or understood rationally.<br />
None<strong>the</strong>less, a successful performance earns <strong>the</strong> applause <strong>of</strong> all participants.<br />
I will conclude with a short remark about <strong>the</strong> Brooklyn j’ouvert. As <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r parts <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> it is a popular custom <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn to mark participants<br />
with mud. Dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> whole time groups <strong>of</strong> hilarious carnival participants dressed<br />
<strong>in</strong> rags ran through <strong>the</strong> crowd to frighten o<strong>the</strong>r participants and spectators. Some<br />
fled scream<strong>in</strong>g loudly and made o<strong>the</strong>rs laugh because this is also part <strong>of</strong> j’ouvert.<br />
Sometimes <strong>the</strong> back was marked with a muddy hand, sometimes <strong>the</strong> shoulders. A<br />
woman approached me, ask<strong>in</strong>g whe<strong>the</strong>r I was lost. I looked at her astonished; I did<br />
not know what she meant. She <strong>the</strong>n put her hand on my blouse and declared, with a<br />
very serious look on her face, that I would never be lost aga<strong>in</strong>, I would belong to her<br />
now – and she ran away laugh<strong>in</strong>g. I experienced <strong>the</strong> carnival parade which followed<br />
covered <strong>in</strong> ash and with many ‘marks’ <strong>of</strong> mud on my clo<strong>the</strong>s. Everyone knew that<br />
I had been at <strong>the</strong> j’ouvert. Only after I returned to Germany did I leave <strong>the</strong> marks<br />
beh<strong>in</strong>d me – and out <strong>of</strong> my clo<strong>the</strong>s – <strong>in</strong> my wash<strong>in</strong>g mach<strong>in</strong>e.
Bibliography<br />
Aguirre Beltrán, Gonzalo (1992 [1957]), El proceso de aculturación: y el cambio<br />
socio-cultural en México. Mexico: Fondo de cultura Económico.<br />
Allen, Ray and Lois Wilcken (1998), ‘Introduction: island sounds <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> global city’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Allen, Ray and Lois Wilcken (eds), Island sounds <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> global city: <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
popular music and identity <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. Brooklyn and <strong>New</strong>field: Institute for<br />
Studies <strong>in</strong> American Music and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> Folklore Society, pp. 1–6.<br />
Anderson, Michelle (1982), ‘Au<strong>the</strong>ntic Voodoo is syn<strong>the</strong>tic’. The Drama Review<br />
26.2: 89–110.<br />
d’Ans, André-Marcel (1997), ‘Créoles sans langue créole: les «criollos» d’Hispano-<br />
Amérique’, <strong>in</strong>: Hazaël-Massieux, Maria-Christ<strong>in</strong>e and Didier de Robillard (eds),<br />
Contacts de langues, contacts de cultures, créolisation: mélanges <strong>of</strong>ferts à Robert<br />
Chaudenson à l’occasion de son soixantième anniversaire. Paris and Montréal:<br />
L’Harmattan, pp. 29–50.<br />
Armbruster, Claudius (1994), ‘Die Telenovela – kultur<strong>in</strong>dustrielles Produkt oder<br />
postmoderne Form der cultura popular’, <strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika<br />
denken: kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne.<br />
Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Narr Verlag, pp. 180–97.<br />
Assmann, Aleida (1991), ‘Kultur als Lebenswelt und Monument’, <strong>in</strong>: Assmann,<br />
Aleida and Dietrich Harth (eds), Kultur als Lebenswelt und Monument. Frankfurt<br />
am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, pp. 11–25.<br />
Averill, Gage (1998), ‘Mov<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Big Apple: Tabou Combo’s diasporic dreams’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Allen, Ray and Lois Wilcken (eds), Island sounds <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> global city: <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
popular music and identity <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. Brooklyn and <strong>New</strong>field: Institute for<br />
Studies <strong>in</strong> American Music and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> Folklore Society, pp. 138–61.<br />
Bakht<strong>in</strong>, Mikhail (1968), Rabelais and his world. Cambridge, Mass. and London:<br />
MIT Press.<br />
—— (1979), Die Äs<strong>the</strong>tik des Wortes. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.<br />
—— (1984), Problems <strong>of</strong> Dostoevsky’s Poetics. Manchester: Manchester University<br />
Press.<br />
—— (1996 [1965/1963]), Literatur und Karneval: zur Roman<strong>the</strong>orie und Lachkultur.<br />
Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag.<br />
Balme, Christopher B. (1998), ‘“Verwandt der Kern aller Menschen” – Zur<br />
Annäherung von Theaterwissenschaft und Kulturanthropologie’, <strong>in</strong>: Schmidt,<br />
Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. and Mark Münzel (eds), Ethnologie und Inszenierung: Ansätze zur<br />
Theaterethnologie. Marburg: Fördervere<strong>in</strong> Völkerkunde <strong>in</strong> Marburg, pp. 19–44.<br />
Balutansky, Kathleen and Marie-Agnès Sourieau, ‘Introduction’, <strong>in</strong>: Balutansky,<br />
Kathleen and Marie-Agnés Sourieau (eds), <strong>Caribbean</strong> creolization: reflections<br />
on <strong>the</strong> cultural dynamics <strong>of</strong> language, literature, and identity. Ga<strong>in</strong>esville, Fla.<br />
and Barbados: University Press <strong>of</strong> Florida and University <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> West Indies<br />
Press, pp. 1–11.
176<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Bartra, Roger (1997), The artificial savage: modern myths <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> wild man. Ann<br />
Arbor: University <strong>of</strong> Michigan Press.<br />
Bastide, Roger (1970), ‘Mémoire collective et sociologie du bricolage’, L’ Année<br />
Sociologique 3. Série, 21: 65–108.<br />
Bauman, Richard (1977), Verbal art as performance, with supplementary essays<br />
by Barbara A. Babcock, Gary H. Gossen, Roger D. Abrahmas, Joel F. Sherzer.<br />
Prospect Heights, Ill.: Waveland Press.<br />
—— (1986), Story, performance, and event. Cambridge: Cambridge University<br />
Press.<br />
Bauman, Richard and Joel Sherzer (eds) (1989 [1974]), Explorations <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
ethnography <strong>of</strong> speak<strong>in</strong>g. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.<br />
Baumann, Gerd (2000), ‘Das Rätsel der multikulturellen Gsellschaft: Neue Wege<br />
durch den ethnologischen Dreischritt’, <strong>in</strong>: Schomburg-Scherff, Sylvia M. and<br />
Beatrix He<strong>in</strong>tze (eds), Die <strong>of</strong>fenen Grenzen der Ethnologie: Schlaglichter auf e<strong>in</strong><br />
sich wandelndes Fach; Klaus E. Müller zum 65. Geburtstag. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>:<br />
Lembeck, pp. 157–69.<br />
Béhague, Gerard (1984a), ‘Introduction’, <strong>in</strong>: Béhague, Gerard (ed.), Performance<br />
practice: ethnomusicological perspectives. Westport, Conn. and London:<br />
Greenwood Press, pp. 3–12.<br />
—— (1984b), ‘Patterns <strong>of</strong> Candomblé music performance: an Afro-Brazilian religious<br />
sett<strong>in</strong>g’, <strong>in</strong>: Béhague, Gerard (ed.), Performance practice: ethnomusicological<br />
perspectives. Westport, Conn. and London: Greenwood Press, pp. 222–54.<br />
Benítez Rojo, Antonio (1984), ‘La cultura caribeña en Cuba: cont<strong>in</strong>uidad versus<br />
ruptura’, Cuban Studies/Estudios Cubanos, 14.1: 1–15.<br />
—— (1989), La isla que se repite: el Caribe y la perspectiva posmoderna. Hanover,<br />
NH: Ed. del Norte.<br />
—— (1995), ‘The polyrhythmic paradigm: <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> and <strong>the</strong> postmodern era’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Hyatt, Vera Lawrence and Rex Nettleford (eds), Race, discourse, and <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Americas: a new world view. Wash<strong>in</strong>gton, DC and London: Smithsonian<br />
Institution Press, pp. 255–67.<br />
—— (1998), ‘Three words toward creolization’, <strong>in</strong>: Balutansky, Kathleen and<br />
Marie-Agnés Sourieau (eds), <strong>Caribbean</strong> creolization: reflections on <strong>the</strong> cultural<br />
dynamics <strong>of</strong> language, literature, and identity. Ga<strong>in</strong>esville, Fla. and Barbados:<br />
University Press <strong>of</strong> Florida and University <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> West Indies Press, pp. 53–61.<br />
Benoist, Jean (1996), ‘Métissage, syncrétisme, créolisation: métaphores et dérives’,<br />
Études créoles: culture, langue, société, 19.1: 47–60.<br />
—— (1997), ‘Soigner dans des sociétés plurielles: les leçons du monde créole’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Hazaël-Massieux, Maria-Christ<strong>in</strong>e and Didier de Robillard (eds), Contacts de<br />
langues, contacts de cultures, créolisation: mélanges <strong>of</strong>ferts à Robert Chaudenson<br />
à l’occasion de son soixantième anniversaire. Paris and Montréal: L’Harmattan,<br />
pp. 333–48.<br />
Bernabé, Jean, Patrick Chamoiseau and Raphaël Confiant (1993 [1989]), Éloge de la<br />
créolité: <strong>in</strong> praise <strong>of</strong> creoleness. Èdition bil<strong>in</strong>gue. [Paris]: Gallimard.<br />
Beverly, John and José Oviedo (1995), ‘Introduction’, <strong>in</strong>: Beverly, John, José Oviedo<br />
and Michael Aronna (eds), The postmodernism debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Durham,<br />
NC and London: Duke University Press, pp. 1–17.
Bibliography 177<br />
Bhabha, Homi K. (1985), ‘Signe taken for wonders: questions <strong>of</strong> ambivalence and<br />
authority under a tree outside Delhi, May 1871’, Critical Inquiry 12.1: 144–65.<br />
Bião, Arm<strong>in</strong>do (1996), ‘Questions posées a la théorie: une approche bahianaise de<br />
l’ethnoscénologie’, <strong>in</strong>: Maison des Cultures du Monde (ed.), La scène et la terre:<br />
questions d’ethnoscénologie. [Paris]: Babel, pp. 145–52.<br />
Blok, Anton (1982), ‘Widder und Böcke: e<strong>in</strong> Schüssel zum mediterranen Ehrkodex’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Nixdorff, Heide and Thomas Hauschild (eds), Europäische Ethnologie:<br />
Theorien- und Methodendiskussion aus ethnologischer und volkskundlicher Sicht.<br />
Berl<strong>in</strong>: Reimer, pp. 165–83.<br />
Bogen, Elizabeth (1987), Immigration <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and London:<br />
Praeger.<br />
Boggs, Vernon (1989), ‘F<strong>in</strong>d<strong>in</strong>g your spot’, <strong>in</strong>: Smith, Carolyn D. and William<br />
Kornblum, In <strong>the</strong> Field: Read<strong>in</strong>gs on <strong>the</strong> Field Research Experience. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>:<br />
Praeger, pp. 148–51 .<br />
Bonfil Batalla, Guillermo (1992), Identidad y pluralismo cultural en America Lat<strong>in</strong>a.<br />
Buenos Aires and San Juan: Fondo Editorial del CEHASS and Editorial de la<br />
Universidad de Puerto Rico.<br />
Bonniol, Jean-Luc (1997), ‘Genèses créoles: de l’usage de la notion d’homologie’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Hazaël-Massieux, Maria-Christ<strong>in</strong>e and Didier de Robillard (eds), Contacts de langues,<br />
contacts de cultures, créolisation: mélanges <strong>of</strong>ferts à Robert Chaudenson à l’occasion<br />
de son soixantième anniversaire. Paris and Montréal: L’Harmattan, pp. 15–27.<br />
Borsò, Vittoria (1994),‘Mexikanische “crónicas” zwischen Erzählung und Geschichte<br />
– kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Überlegungen zur Dekonstruktion von Historiographie und<br />
nationalen Identitätsbildern’, <strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken:<br />
kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen:<br />
Narr Verlag, pp. 278–96.<br />
Bourdieu, Pierre (1984 [1979]), Dist<strong>in</strong>ction: A Social Critique <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Judgement <strong>of</strong><br />
Taste. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul.<br />
Bourgois, Philippe (1997 [1995]), In search <strong>of</strong> respect: sell<strong>in</strong>g crack <strong>in</strong> El Barrio.<br />
Cambridge and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Cambridge University Press.<br />
Brandon, George E. (1983), ‘The dead sell memories: an anthropological study <strong>of</strong><br />
Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>’, Ph. D. <strong>the</strong>sis, University <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> Brunswick, NJ.<br />
—— (1993), Santería from Africa to <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> World: <strong>the</strong> dead sell memories.<br />
Bloom<strong>in</strong>gton and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press.<br />
Bremer, Thomas (1993), ‘The constitution <strong>of</strong> alterity: Fernando Ortiz and <strong>the</strong><br />
beg<strong>in</strong>n<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong>-American ethnography out <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> spirit <strong>of</strong> Italian crim<strong>in</strong>ology’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Bremer, Thomas and Ulrich Fleischmann (eds), Alternative cultures <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong>: first <strong>in</strong>ternational conference <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Society <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Research,<br />
Berl<strong>in</strong> 1988. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Vervuert, pp. 119–29.<br />
—— (1996), ‘Zur Frühgschichte der Selbst- und Fremdwahrnehmung schwarzer<br />
Kulturformen <strong>in</strong> der Karibik: Spenser St. Johns Darstellung des haitianischen<br />
Vaudou (1884/89)’, <strong>in</strong>: Kremser, Manfred (ed.), Ay BoBo – afro-karibische<br />
Religionen, Zweite Internationale Tagung der Gesellschaft für Karibikforschung<br />
Wien 1990, Teil 2: Voodoo. Wien: WUV-Universitäts-Verlag, pp. 139–52.<br />
Brown, David H. (2003), Santeria enthroned: art, ritual, and <strong>in</strong>novation <strong>in</strong> an<br />
Afro-Cuban religion. Chicago and London: University <strong>of</strong> Chicago Press.
178<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Brown, Karen McCarthy (1991), Mama Lola: a Vodou priestess <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn.<br />
Berkeley and Los Angeles: University <strong>of</strong> California Press.<br />
—— (1995), ‘The power to heal <strong>in</strong> Haitian Vodou’, <strong>in</strong>: Hackett, David G. (ed.),<br />
Religion and American culture: a reader. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and London: Routledge,<br />
pp. 479–94.<br />
Brown, Patricia Leigh (1998), ‘Where <strong>the</strong> spirits feel at home’, <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> Times, 31<br />
December: F1, F5.<br />
Brunner, José Joaquín (1995), ‘Notes on modernity and postmodernity <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American culture’, <strong>in</strong>: Beverly, John, José Oviedo and Michael Aronna (eds),<br />
The postmodernism debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Durham, NC and London: Duke<br />
University Press, pp. 34–54.<br />
Buchanan, Susan Huelsebush (1980), ‘Scattered seeds: <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> migration<br />
for Haitians <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>’, Ph.D. <strong>the</strong>sis, <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> University.<br />
Bueno, Raúl (1996), ‘Sobre la heterogeneidad literaria y cultural de América<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong>a’, <strong>in</strong>: Mazzotti, José Antonio and U. Juan Zevallo Aguilar (eds), Asedios<br />
a la heterogenidad cultural: Libro de homenaje a Antonio Cornejo Polar.<br />
Philadelphia: Asociación Internacional de Peruanistas, pp. 21–36.<br />
Burdick, John (1993), ‘Der Mythos der Rassendemokratie’, <strong>in</strong>: Dirmoser, Dietmar<br />
et al. (eds) Die Wilden und die Barbarei. Münster and Hamburg: Lit. Verlag,<br />
pp. 113–24.<br />
Cabrera, Lydia (1992 [1954]), El monte (Igbo-F<strong>in</strong>da; Ewe Orisha. Vititi Nf<strong>in</strong>da)<br />
(notas sobre las religiones, la magia, las supersticiones y el folklore de los negros<br />
crillos y el pueblo de Cuba). Miami, Fla.: Ed. Universal.<br />
Calderón, Fernando (1995), ‘Lat<strong>in</strong> American identity and mixed temporalities; or,<br />
how to be postmodern and Indian at <strong>the</strong> same time’, <strong>in</strong>: Beverly, John, José Oviedo<br />
and Michael Aronna (eds), The postmodernism debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Durham,<br />
NC and London: Duke University Press, pp. 55–64.<br />
Canizares, Raul (1993), Walk<strong>in</strong>g with <strong>the</strong> night: <strong>the</strong> afro-cuban world <strong>of</strong> Santería.<br />
Rochester, Vt: Dest<strong>in</strong>y Books.<br />
Carpentier, Alejo (1974), Concierto barroco. Novela. Mexico: Siglo XXI Ed.<br />
Certeau, Michel de (1988 [1975]), The writ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> history. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Columbia<br />
University Press.<br />
Charles, Carolle (1995), ‘Gender and politics <strong>in</strong> contemporary Haiti: <strong>the</strong> Duvalierist<br />
state, transnationalism, and <strong>the</strong> emergence <strong>of</strong> a new fem<strong>in</strong>ism (1980–1990)’,<br />
Fem<strong>in</strong>ist Studies, 21.1: 135–64.<br />
Ciesluk, Joseph E. (1944), National parishes <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> United States. Wash<strong>in</strong>gton, DC:<br />
The Catholic University <strong>of</strong> America Press.<br />
Clifford, James (1994), ‘<strong>Diaspora</strong>s’, Cultural Anthropology, 9.3: 302–38.<br />
—— (1997), Routes: travel and translation <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> late twentieth century. Cambridge<br />
and London: Harvard University Press.<br />
Cohen, Abner (1980), ‘Drama and politics <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> development <strong>of</strong> a London carnival’,<br />
Man: The Journal <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Royal Anthropological Institute, 15.1: 65–87.<br />
—— (1982), ‘A polyethnic London carnival as a contested cultural performance’,<br />
Ethnic and Racial Studies, 5: 23–41.<br />
—— (1993), Masquerade politics: explorations <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> structure <strong>of</strong> urban cultural<br />
movements. Oxford: Berg.
Bibliography 179<br />
Cohen, Rob<strong>in</strong> (1997), Global diasporas: an <strong>in</strong>troduction. Seattle: University <strong>of</strong><br />
Wash<strong>in</strong>gton Press.<br />
Condé, Maryse (1998), ‘Créolité without Creole language?’, <strong>in</strong>: Balutansky,<br />
Kathleen and Marie-Agnés Sourieau (eds), <strong>Caribbean</strong> creolization: reflections on<br />
<strong>the</strong> cultural dynamics <strong>of</strong> language, literature, and identity. Ga<strong>in</strong>esville, Fla. and<br />
Barbados: University Press <strong>of</strong> Florida and University <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> West Indies Press,<br />
pp. 101–9.<br />
Cornelius, Steven Harry (1989), ‘The convergence <strong>of</strong> power: an <strong>in</strong>vestigation <strong>in</strong>to<br />
<strong>the</strong> music liturgy <strong>of</strong> Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>’, Ph.D., University <strong>of</strong> California,<br />
Los Angeles.<br />
Cosent<strong>in</strong>o, Donald (ed.) (1995), Sacred arts <strong>of</strong> Haitian Vodou. Los Angeles: UCLA<br />
Fowler Museum <strong>of</strong> Cultural History.<br />
Curry, Mary (1991), ‘Mak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Gods <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: <strong>the</strong> Yoruba religion <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Black community’, Ph.D. <strong>the</strong>sis, <strong>City</strong> University <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>.<br />
—— (1997), Mak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> Gods <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: <strong>the</strong> Yoruba religion <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> African<br />
American community. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and London: Garland.<br />
da Matta, Roberto (1984), ‘Carnival <strong>in</strong> multiple planes’, <strong>in</strong>: MacAloon, John J.<br />
(ed.), Rite, drama, festival, spectacle: rehearsals toward a <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> cultural<br />
performance. Philadelphia: ISHI, pp. 208–40.<br />
—— (1991 [1979]), Carnivals, rogues, and heroes: an <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian<br />
dilemma. Notre Dame, Ind. and London: University <strong>of</strong> Notre Dame Press.<br />
—— (1995), ‘For an anthropology <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Brazilian tradition; or “A Virtude está no<br />
Meio”’, <strong>in</strong>: Hess, David J. and Roberto A. Da Matta (eds) The Brazilian puzzle:<br />
culture on <strong>the</strong> borderlands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> western world. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Columbia University<br />
Press, pp. 270–91.<br />
Danticat, Edwidge (1995), Krik? Krak! <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Soho Press.<br />
—— (1997 [1994]), Breath, eyes, memory. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: V<strong>in</strong>tage<br />
Daus, Ronald (1995), Großstädte Außereuropas: Die Konstruktion des Nationalen.<br />
Berl<strong>in</strong>: Babylon.<br />
Davis, E. Wade (1985), The serpent and <strong>the</strong> ra<strong>in</strong>bow. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Simon and<br />
Schuster.<br />
Dayan, Joan (1995), Haiti, history, and <strong>the</strong> Gods. Berkeley: University <strong>of</strong> California<br />
Press.<br />
Deimel, Claus (1993), Götter aus Afrika. Teil 2: Rituelle Gegenstände aus Mali,<br />
Liberia, Côte d’Ivoire, Burk<strong>in</strong>a Faso, Ghana, Togo, Ben<strong>in</strong>, Nigeria, Kamerun,<br />
Zaire, Haiti. Hannover: Niedersächsisches Landesmuseum.<br />
Department <strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g (1994), Puerto Rican <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>ers <strong>in</strong> 1990. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>:<br />
Department <strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>City</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>.<br />
Deren, Maya (1953), Div<strong>in</strong>e Horsemen: <strong>the</strong> liv<strong>in</strong>g Gods <strong>of</strong> Haiti. London: Thames<br />
and Hudson.<br />
Derrida, Jacques (1974 [1970]), ‘Die Struktur, das Zeichen und das Spiel im Diskurs<br />
der Wissenschaften vom Menschen’, <strong>in</strong>: Lepenies, Wolf and Hanns Henn<strong>in</strong>g Ritter<br />
(eds), Orte des wilden Denkens: zur Anthropologie von Claude Lévi-Strauss.<br />
Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Suhrkamp, pp. 387–412.
180<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
—— (1985 [1967]), Die Schrift und die Differenz. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Suhrkamp<br />
[<strong>in</strong> English published under <strong>the</strong> title Writ<strong>in</strong>g and difference. London: Routledge<br />
& Kegan Paul, 1978].<br />
Desmangles, Leslie (1992), The faces <strong>of</strong> Gods: Vodou and Roman Catholicism <strong>in</strong><br />
Haiti. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: University <strong>of</strong> North Carol<strong>in</strong>a Press.<br />
Díaz-Stevens, Ana María (1993), Oxcart Catholicism an Fifth Avenue: <strong>the</strong> impact <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Puerto Rican migration upon <strong>the</strong> Archdiocese <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. Notre Dame, Ind.<br />
and London: University <strong>of</strong> Notre Dame Press.<br />
Díaz-Stevens, Ana María and Antonio M. Stevens-Arroyo (1998), Recogniz<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>the</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong>o resurgence <strong>in</strong> U.S. religion: <strong>the</strong> Emmaus paradigma. Boulder, Col.:<br />
Westview Press.<br />
Douglas, Mary (1970), Natural symbols: explorations <strong>in</strong> cosmology. London: Barrie<br />
& Rockliff, Cresset Press.<br />
Dussel, Enrique (1995), ‘Eurocentrism and modernity (Introduction to <strong>the</strong><br />
Frankfurt Lectures)’, <strong>in</strong>: Beverly, John, José Oviedo and Michael Aronna (eds),<br />
The postmodernism debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Durham, NC and London: Duke<br />
University Press, pp. 65–76.<br />
Duvignaud, Jean (1976), ‘Festivals: a sociological approach’, Cultures, 3.1: 13–25.<br />
—— (1995), ‘Y en a marre de la tragédie’, <strong>in</strong>: Maison des Cultures du Monde (ed.),<br />
La dérision, le rire. [Paris]: Babel, pp. 107–11.<br />
Eckkrammer, Eva Martha (2003), ‘On <strong>the</strong> perception <strong>of</strong> ‘Creole’ langauge and identity<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Ne<strong>the</strong>rlands Antilles’, <strong>in</strong>: Collier, Gordon and Ulrich Fleischmann (eds),<br />
A pepper-pot <strong>of</strong> cultures: aspects <strong>of</strong> Creolization <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>. (Matatu 27–8)<br />
Amsterdam and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Editions Rodopi, pp. 85–108.<br />
Elizondo, Virgilio (1994), ‘Popular religion as <strong>the</strong> core <strong>of</strong> cultural identity <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Mexican American experience’, <strong>in</strong>: Stevens-Attoyo, Antonio M. and Ana María<br />
Díaz-Stevens (eds), An endur<strong>in</strong>g flame: studies on Lat<strong>in</strong>o popular religiosity.<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Bildner Center for Western Hemisphere Studies, pp. 113–32.<br />
Feest, Christian F. (1993), ‘Kommentar zu Ulla Johansen: Materielle oder<br />
materialisierte Kultur? Zeitschrift für Ethnologie 117, 1992: 1–15’, Zeitschrift für<br />
Ethnologie, 118: 141–5.<br />
Fernandez, James W. (1995 [1991]), ‘Introduction: confluents <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>quiry’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Fernandez, James W. (ed.), Beyond metapher: <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> tropes <strong>in</strong> anthropology.<br />
Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, pp. 1–13.<br />
Fernández Retamar, Roberto (1996), ‘Comentarios al texto de Antonio Cornejo<br />
Polar “Mestizaje, Transculturación, heterogeneidad”’, <strong>in</strong>: Mazzotti, José Antonio<br />
and U. Juan Zevallo Aguilar (eds), Asedios a la heterogenidad cultural: Libro de<br />
homenaje a Antonio Cornejo Polar. Philadelphia: Asociación Internacional de<br />
Peruanistas, pp. 47–56.<br />
Fichte, Huber (1988 [1980]), Petersilie: die afroamerikanischen Religionen. Santo Dom<strong>in</strong>go,<br />
Venezuela, Miami, Grenada. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag.<br />
Fitzpatrick, Joseph P. (1987 [1971]), Puerto Rican Americans: <strong>the</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong><br />
migration to <strong>the</strong> ma<strong>in</strong>land. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall.<br />
Fleischmann, Ulrich (1985), ‘Die Lust am Brasilianischen – Anthropologie und<br />
Literatur bei Gilberto Freyre und Darcy Ribeiro’, Iberoamericana, 25/26: 65–80.
Bibliography 181<br />
Foner, Nancy (1987), ‘Introduction: new immigrants and chang<strong>in</strong>g patterns <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>’, <strong>in</strong>: Foner, Nancy (ed.), <strong>New</strong> immigrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>:<br />
Columbia University Press, pp. 1–33.<br />
Foster, David William (1984), ‘On <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong> popular culture <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Gunterman, Gail (ed.), Contemporary Lat<strong>in</strong> American culture: unity and<br />
diversity (Papers presented at a workshop, Arizona State University, 23 March<br />
1984, sponsored by Center for Lat<strong>in</strong> American Studies). Tempe: Center for Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
American Studies, Arizona State University, pp. 27–43.<br />
Frank, Hilmar (1991), ‘Der Widerspruch und se<strong>in</strong> montiertes Bild’, <strong>in</strong>: Gumbrecht,<br />
Hans Ulrich and Ludwig K. Pfeiffer (eds), Paradoxien, Dissonanzen,<br />
Zusammenbrüche. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, pp. 380–95.<br />
Freyre, Gilberto (1961 [1937]), Nordeste: aspectos da <strong>in</strong>fluência da cana sôbre a vida<br />
e a paisagem do Nordeste do Brasil. São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro: Livraria José<br />
Olympio.<br />
—— (1962 [1943]), Problemas brasileiros de antropologia. Rio de Janeiro: Olympio.<br />
—— (1980 [1962]), Arte, ciência e trópico. São Paulo: DIFEL.<br />
—— (1990 [1933]), Herrenhaus und Sklavenhütte: e<strong>in</strong> Bild der brasilianischen<br />
Gesellschaft. München: Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag [<strong>in</strong> English published<br />
under <strong>the</strong> title The Masters and <strong>the</strong> Slaves. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Alfred A. Knopf, 1946].<br />
Friedman, Robert A. (1982), ‘Mak<strong>in</strong>g an abstract world concrete: knowledge,<br />
competence, and structural dimensions <strong>of</strong> perfermance among Bata drummers <strong>in</strong><br />
Santería’, Ph.D. <strong>the</strong>sis, Indiana University.<br />
Frobenius, Leo (1993 [1933]), Kulturgeschichte Afrikas: Prolegomena zu e<strong>in</strong>er<br />
historischen Gestaltlehre. Wuppertal: Hammer.<br />
Fuchs, Mart<strong>in</strong> and Eberhard Berg (1995), ‘Phänomenologie der Differenz:<br />
Reflexionsstufen ethnographischer Repräsentation’, <strong>in</strong>: Berg, Eberhard and<br />
Mart<strong>in</strong> Fuchs (eds), Kultur, soziale Praxis, Text: Die Krise der ethnographischen<br />
Repräsentation. Fankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Suhrkamp, pp. 11–108.<br />
Gabriel, Leo (1999), ‘Er<strong>in</strong>nerungen an die Zukunft: Postmoderne Utopien <strong>in</strong><br />
Late<strong>in</strong>ameria’, <strong>in</strong>: Mader, Elke and Maria Dabr<strong>in</strong>ger (eds), Von der realen Magie<br />
zum magischen Realismus: Weltbild und Gesellschaft im Late<strong>in</strong>amerika. Frankfurt<br />
and Wien: Brandes & Apsel and Südw<strong>in</strong>d, pp. 159–64.<br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, Néstor (1982), Las culturas populares en el capitalismo. La Habana:<br />
Ed. Casa de las Américas.<br />
——(1989),‘El debate posmoderno en Iberoamérica’, Cuadernos Hispanoamericanos,<br />
463: 79–92.<br />
—— (1990), Culturas híbridas: estrategias para entrar y salir de la modernidad.<br />
Mexico: Ed. Grijalbo.<br />
—— (1995), ‘The hybrid: a conversation with Margarita Zires, Raymundo Mier,<br />
and Mabel Picc<strong>in</strong>i’, <strong>in</strong>: Beverly, John, José Oviedo and Michael Aronna (eds),<br />
The postmodernism debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Durham, NC and London: Duke<br />
University Press, pp. 77–92.<br />
—— (1995 [1991]), ‘Los estudios culturales de los ochenta a los noventa: perspectivas<br />
antropológicas y sociológicas’, <strong>in</strong>: García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, Néstor (ed.), Cultura y<br />
pospolítica: El debate sobre la modernidad en América Lat<strong>in</strong>a. Mexico: Consejo<br />
Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes, pp. 17–38.
182<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
—— (1997 [1990]), Hybrid cultures: strategies for enter<strong>in</strong>g and leav<strong>in</strong>g modernity.<br />
M<strong>in</strong>neapolis and London: Univeristy <strong>of</strong> M<strong>in</strong>nesota Press.<br />
Geertz, Clifford (1988), Works and lives: <strong>the</strong> anthropologist as author. Stanford,<br />
Calif.: Stanford University Press.<br />
—— (1993a [1973]), ‘Thick description: toward an <strong>in</strong>terpretive <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> culture’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Geertz, Clifford, The <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> cultures: selected essays. London:<br />
Fontana Press, pp. 3–30.<br />
—— (1993b [1988]), Die künstlichen Wilden: der Anthropologe als Schriftsteller.<br />
Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag.<br />
—— (1996), Welt <strong>in</strong> Stücken: Kultur und Politik am Ende des 20. Jahrhunderts.<br />
Wien: Passagen Verlag.<br />
Georges, Eugenia (1990), The mak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a transnational community: migration,<br />
development, and cultural change <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Dom<strong>in</strong>ican Republic. (Bancr<strong>of</strong>t<br />
Dissertation Award) <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Columbia University Press.<br />
Glazier, Stephen D. (1983), March<strong>in</strong>’ <strong>the</strong> pilgrims home: leadership and decisionmak<strong>in</strong>g<br />
<strong>in</strong> an Afro-<strong>Caribbean</strong> faith. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press.<br />
Glissant, Édouard (1981), Le discours antillais. Paris: Éditions du Seuil.<br />
—— (1995), ‘Creolization <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> mak<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Americas’, <strong>in</strong>: Hyatt, Vera Lawrence<br />
and Rex Nettleford (eds), Race, discourse, and <strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Americas: a<br />
new world view. Wash<strong>in</strong>gton, DC and London: Smithsonian Institution Press,<br />
pp. 268–75.<br />
Gmelch, George (1992), Double passage: <strong>the</strong> lives <strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants abroad<br />
and back home. Ann Arbor: University <strong>of</strong> Michigan Press.<br />
Götz, Nicola H. (1995), Obeah – Hexerei <strong>in</strong> der Karibik – zwischen Macht und<br />
Ohnmacht. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Peter Lang Verlag.<br />
Greeley, Andrew M. (1972), The church, <strong>the</strong> national parish and immigration, same<br />
old mistakes. Staten Island, NY: Center for Migration Studies.<br />
Gregory, Steven (1986), ‘Santería <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>: a study <strong>in</strong> cultural resistance’,<br />
Ph.D. <strong>the</strong>sis, <strong>New</strong> School for Social research.<br />
—— (1987), ‘Afro-<strong>Caribbean</strong> religions <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>: <strong>the</strong> case <strong>of</strong> Santería’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Sutton, Constance R. (ed.), <strong>Caribbean</strong> life <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>: sociocultural dimensions.<br />
Staten Island, NY: Center for Migration Studies <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, pp. 307–24.<br />
Greschat, Hans-Jürgen (1996), ‘Ethnische Religionen’, <strong>in</strong>: Antes, Peter (ed.), Die<br />
Religionen der Gegenwart: Geschichte und Glauben. München: Beck, pp. 261–79.<br />
Greverus, Ina-Maria (1990), Neues Zeitalter oder Verkehrte Welt. Anthropologie als<br />
Kritik. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft.<br />
Guarnizo, Luis Eduardo (1997), ‘The emergence <strong>of</strong> a transnational social formation<br />
and <strong>the</strong> mirage <strong>of</strong> return migration among Dom<strong>in</strong>ican transmigrants’, Identities,<br />
4.2: 281–322.<br />
Guss, David M. (1994), ‘Syncretic <strong>in</strong>ventions: “Indianness” and <strong>the</strong> Day <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> Monkey’, <strong>in</strong>: Steward, Charles and Rosal<strong>in</strong>d Shaw (eds), Syncretism/<br />
Anti-syncretism: <strong>the</strong> politics <strong>of</strong> religious syn<strong>the</strong>sis. London and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>:<br />
Routledge, pp. 145–60.<br />
Habermas, Jürgen (1986), Der philosophische Diskurs der Moderne: zwölf<br />
Vorlesungen. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.
Bibliography 183<br />
Halbwachs, Maurice (1925), Les cadres sociaux de la mémoire. Paris: F.Alcan [partly<br />
published <strong>in</strong> English under <strong>the</strong> title On collective memory. Chicago: University <strong>of</strong><br />
Chicago Press, 1992].<br />
—— (1985 [1925]), Das Gedächtnis und se<strong>in</strong>e sozialen Bed<strong>in</strong>gungen. Frankfurt am<br />
Ma<strong>in</strong>: Suhrkamp Taschenbuch.<br />
Hannerz, Ulf (1978), ‘Problems <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> analysis <strong>of</strong> urban cultural organization’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Aschenbrenner, Joyce and Lloyd R. Coll<strong>in</strong>s (eds), The processes <strong>of</strong> urbanism: a<br />
multidiscipl<strong>in</strong>ary approach. The Hague and Paris: Mouton Publishers, pp. 297–314.<br />
—— (1980), Explor<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> city: <strong>in</strong>quiries toward an urban anthropology. <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong>: Columbia University Press.<br />
—— (1992), Cultural complexity: studies <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> social organization <strong>of</strong> mean<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Columbia University Press.<br />
—— (1998 [1996]), Transnational connections: culture, people, places. (Comedia)<br />
London and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Routledge.<br />
Hargrove, Barbara, Jean Miller Schmidt and Sheila Greeve Davaney (1985),<br />
‘Religion and <strong>the</strong> chang<strong>in</strong>g role <strong>of</strong> women’, <strong>in</strong>: Ro<strong>of</strong>, Wade Clark (ed.), Religion<br />
<strong>in</strong> America today. Beverly Hills and London: Sage, pp. 117–31.<br />
Harris, Wilson (1998), ‘Creoleness: <strong>the</strong> crossroads <strong>of</strong> a civilization?’, <strong>in</strong>: Balutansky,<br />
Kathleen and Marie-Agnés Sourieau (eds), <strong>Caribbean</strong> creolization: reflections on<br />
<strong>the</strong> cultural dynamics <strong>of</strong> language, literature, and identity. Ga<strong>in</strong>esville, Fla. and<br />
Barbados: University Press <strong>of</strong> Florida and University <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> West Indies Press,<br />
pp. 23–35.<br />
He<strong>in</strong>richs, Hans-Jürgen (1983), Sprachkörper: zu Claude Lévi-Strauss und Jacques<br />
Lacan. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Qumran.<br />
Henze, Kirst<strong>in</strong> (2000), Anglo-hispanische Sprachwege durch <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Ethnographie<br />
der Kommunikation <strong>in</strong> e<strong>in</strong>er globalisierten Kulturlandschaft. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Gunter<br />
Narr Verlag.<br />
Herl<strong>in</strong>ghaus, Hermann and Monika Walter (1994), ‘¿”Modernidad periférica”<br />
versus “proyecto de la modernidad”? Experiencias epistemológicas para una<br />
reformulación de fe ‘pos’moderno desde América Lat<strong>in</strong>a’, <strong>in</strong>: Herl<strong>in</strong>ghaus,<br />
Hermann and Monika Walter (eds) Posmodernidad en la periferia: enfoques<br />
lat<strong>in</strong>oamericanos de la nueva teoríe cultural. Berl<strong>in</strong>: Langer, pp. 11–47.<br />
Herskovits, Melville J. (1944), ‘Drums and drummers <strong>in</strong> Afrobrazilian cult life’,<br />
Musical Quarterly, 30: 477–92.<br />
—— (1964 [1937]), Life <strong>in</strong> a Haitian valley. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Octagon Books.<br />
Herskovits, Melville J. and Frances Herskovits (1947), Tr<strong>in</strong>idad Village. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>:<br />
Alfred A. Knopf.<br />
Herzfeld, Michael (1980), ‘Honour and shame: problems <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> comparative analysis <strong>of</strong><br />
moral systems’, Man: The Journal <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Royal Anthropological Institute, 15: 339–51.<br />
Hess, David J. (1995), ‘Introduction’, <strong>in</strong>: Hess, David J. and Roberto A. Da Matta<br />
(eds), The Brazilian puzzle: culture on <strong>the</strong> borderlands <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> western world. <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong>: Columbia University Press, pp. 1–27.<br />
Hnas. Misioneras de San Carlos Borromeo Scalabr<strong>in</strong>ianas (1995), Doctr<strong>in</strong>a social<br />
de la iglesia y migraciones en América Lat<strong>in</strong>a. Bogota: MSCS.
184<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
H<strong>of</strong>bauer, Andreas (2000), ‘Branqueamento-Ideologie: Rassismus auf brasilianisch’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Rossbach de Olmos, Lioba and Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt (eds), Standpunkte:<br />
Afroamerika im <strong>in</strong>terdiszipl<strong>in</strong>ären Dialog. Beiträge der Regionalgruppe<br />
Aroamerika auf der Tagung der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Völkerkunde <strong>in</strong><br />
Heidelberg 1999. Marburg: Curupira, pp. 47–60.<br />
H<strong>of</strong>fmann, Léon-François (1996), ‘Myth, history and literature: <strong>the</strong> Bois-Caïman<br />
ceremony’, <strong>in</strong>: Kremser, Manfred (ed.), Ay BoBo – afro-karibische Religionen,<br />
Zweite Internationale Tagung der Gesellschaft für Karibikforschung Wien 1990,<br />
Teil 2: Voodoo. Wien: WUV Universitäts Verlag, pp. 35–50.<br />
H<strong>of</strong>mann, Sab<strong>in</strong>e (1994), ‘La terre rhizomée und La isla que se repite –<br />
Poststrukturalistische Modelle bei Edouard Glissant und Antonio Benítez Rojo’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken: kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge<br />
zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Narr Verlag, pp. 252–65.<br />
Hollenste<strong>in</strong>er, Stephan (1994), ‘«Plural, mas não caótica» – Aspekte brasilianischer<br />
Kultur<strong>the</strong>orie der achtziger Jahre’, <strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika<br />
denken: kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne.<br />
Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Narr Verlag, pp. 161–79.<br />
Houk, James T. (1992), ‘The Orisha religion <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad: a study <strong>of</strong> culture process<br />
and transformation’, Ph. D. <strong>the</strong>sis, Tulane University.<br />
—— (1995), Spirits, blood, and drums: <strong>the</strong> Orisha religion <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad. Philadelphia:<br />
Temple University Press.<br />
Hulme, Peter (1986), Colonial encounters: Europe and <strong>the</strong> native <strong>Caribbean</strong>, 1492–<br />
1797. London and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Methuen.<br />
Hurbon, Laënnec (1972), Dieu dans le Vaudou haitien. Paris: Payot.<br />
—— (1979), Culture et dictature en Haiti: l’imag<strong>in</strong>aire sous controle. Paris:<br />
L’Harmattan.<br />
—— (1995a [1993]), Voodoo: search for <strong>the</strong> spirit. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Harry N. Abrahams.<br />
—— (1995b), ‘American fantasy and Haitian Vodou’, <strong>in</strong>: Cosent<strong>in</strong>o, Donald (ed.),<br />
Sacred arts <strong>of</strong> Haitian Vodou. Los Angeles: UCLA Fowler Museum <strong>of</strong> Cultural<br />
History, pp. 181–97.<br />
Huyssen, Andreas (1997 [1986]), ‘Postmoderne – e<strong>in</strong>e amerikanische Internationale?’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Huyssen, Andreas and Klaus R. Scherpe (eds), Postmoderne: Zeichen e<strong>in</strong>es<br />
kulturellen Wandels. (rowohlts enzyklopädie) Re<strong>in</strong>bek bei Hamburg: Rowohlt,<br />
pp. 13–44.<br />
Hyatt, Vera Lawrence and Rex Nettleford (eds) (1995), Race, discourse, and<br />
<strong>the</strong> orig<strong>in</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Americas: a new world view. Wash<strong>in</strong>gton, DC and London:<br />
Smithsonian Institution Press.<br />
Jacobs, C. M. (1996), Joy comes <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> morn<strong>in</strong>g: Elton George Griffith and <strong>the</strong><br />
Shouter Baptists. Port-<strong>of</strong>-Spa<strong>in</strong>: <strong>Caribbean</strong> Historical Society.<br />
Jahn, Wiegand (1994), ‘Zum Selbstverständnis “nicht-westlicher” Anthropologie:<br />
das Beispiel Brasilien’, Magisterarbeit, University Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen.<br />
Jensen, Adolf Ellegard (1992 [1951]), Mythos und Kult bei Naturvölkern. München:<br />
dtv [<strong>in</strong> English published under <strong>the</strong> title Myth and cult among primitive peoples.<br />
Chicago: University <strong>of</strong> Chicago Press, 1963].<br />
Johansen, Ulla (1992), ‘Materielle oder materialisierte Kultur?’, Zeitschrift für<br />
Ethnologie, 117: 1–15.
Bibliography 185<br />
Johnson, Paul Christopher (2006), ‘Secretism and <strong>the</strong> Apo<strong>the</strong>osis <strong>of</strong> Duvalier’,<br />
Journal <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> American Academy <strong>of</strong> Religion, 74.2: 420–45.<br />
Kantrowitz, Nathan (1969), <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> migration, 1900–1960. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Social<br />
Statistics for Metropolitan <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>.<br />
Kas<strong>in</strong>itz, Philip (1995 [1992]), <strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Black immigrants and <strong>the</strong><br />
politics <strong>of</strong> race. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press.<br />
Klor de Alva, J. Jorge (1995), ‘The postcolonization <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> (Lat<strong>in</strong>o) American<br />
experience: a recondideration <strong>of</strong> “colonialism”, “postcolonialism”, and “mestizaje”’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Prakash, Gyan (ed.), After colonialism: imperial hostory and postcolonial<br />
displacements. Pr<strong>in</strong>ceton, NJ: Pr<strong>in</strong>ceton University Press, pp. 241–75.<br />
Kohl, Karl-He<strong>in</strong>z (1998), Der Tod der Reisjungfrau: My<strong>the</strong>n, Kulte und Allianzen <strong>in</strong><br />
e<strong>in</strong>er ost<strong>in</strong>donesischen Lokalkultur. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer.<br />
—— (2000), ‘Prozesse kultureller Selbstbehauptung: und die Rolle der Ethnologie’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Schomburg-Scherff, Sylvia M. and Beatrix He<strong>in</strong>tze (eds), Die <strong>of</strong>fenen Grenzen<br />
der Ethnologie: Schlaglichter auf e<strong>in</strong> sich wandelndes Fach; Klaus E. Müller zum<br />
65. Geburtstag. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Lembeck, pp. 68–82.<br />
Kraly, Ellen Percy (1987), ‘U.S. immigrant policy and <strong>the</strong> immigrant populations<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>’, <strong>in</strong>: Foner, Nancy (ed.), <strong>New</strong> immigrants <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>:<br />
Columbia University Press, pp. 35–78.<br />
Krasberg, Ulrike (1996), Kali<strong>the</strong>a, Männer und Frauen <strong>in</strong> e<strong>in</strong>em griechischen Dorf.<br />
Frankfurt and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Campus.<br />
Kremser, Manfred (1992), ‘Kont<strong>in</strong>uität religiöser Kultur <strong>in</strong> der afrikanischen<br />
<strong>Diaspora</strong>’, Mitteilungen der Anthropologischen Gesellschaft <strong>in</strong> Wien, 122:<br />
51–63.<br />
—— (2003), ‘Afrikas Digtale <strong>Diaspora</strong> Religionen: Das R<strong>in</strong>gen um religiöse Kultur<br />
und Identität im Cyberspace’, <strong>in</strong>: Zips, Werner (ed.), Afrikanische <strong>Diaspora</strong>: out<br />
<strong>of</strong> Africa <strong>in</strong>to new worlds. Münster: Lit. Verlag, pp. 447–56.<br />
Laguerre, Michel S. (1996 [1984]), American Odyssey: Haitians <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>.<br />
Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press.<br />
Leach, Edmund (1974 [1970]), ‘Claude Lévi-Strauss – Anthropologe und Philosoph’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Lepenies, Wolf and Hanns Henn<strong>in</strong>g Ritter (eds), Orte des wilden Denkens:<br />
zur Anthropologie von Claude Lévi-Strauss. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Suhrkamp,<br />
pp. 49–76.<br />
Lechner, Norbert (1995), ‘A disenchantment called postmodernism’, <strong>in</strong>: Beverly,<br />
John, José Oviedo and Michael Aronna (eds), The postmodernism debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America. Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, pp. 147–64.<br />
Lepenies, Wolf and Hanns Henn<strong>in</strong>g Ritter (eds) (1974 [1970]), Orte des wilden<br />
Denkens: zur Anthropologie von Claude Lévi-Strauss. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>:<br />
Suhrkamp.<br />
Lévi-Strauss, Claude (1966 [1962]), The Savage M<strong>in</strong>d (La pensée sauvage). London:<br />
Weidenfeld and Nicolson.<br />
—— (1970 [1964]), The raw and <strong>the</strong> cooked (Mythologique I). London: Jonathan<br />
Cape.<br />
—— (1973<br />
[1955]), Tristes tropiques. London: Cape.<br />
—— (1987a [1952]), Race et histoire. [Paris]: Denoël.<br />
—— (1987b [1983]), The view from afar. London: Pengu<strong>in</strong>.
186<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
—— (1988 [1985]), The jealous potter. Chicago: University <strong>of</strong> Chicago Press.<br />
Lienhard, Martín (1996), ‘De mestizajes, heterogeneidades, hibridismos y otras<br />
quimeras’, <strong>in</strong>: Mazzotti, José Antonio and U. Juan Zevallo Aguilar (eds), Asedios<br />
a la heterogenidad cultural: Libro de homenaje a Antonio Cornejo Polar.<br />
Philadelphia: Asociación Internacional de Peruanistas, pp. 57–80.<br />
Liptak, Dolores (1989), Immigrants and <strong>the</strong>ir church. (Makers <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Catholic<br />
Community) <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and London: Macmillan.<br />
Llobera, Josep R. (1990), La identidad de la antropología. Barcelona: Ed.<br />
Anagrama.<br />
Lüsebr<strong>in</strong>k, Hans-Jürgen (1994), ‘“Postmoderne” Kultur<strong>the</strong>orie als produktive Distanznahme:<br />
Zur Rezeption von Claude Lévi-Strauss im essayistischen Werk on Octavio Paz’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken: kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge zwischen<br />
Moderne und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Narr Verlag, pp. 216–27.<br />
McAlister, Elizabeth (1992/1993), ‘Sacred stories from <strong>the</strong> Haitian diaspora: a<br />
collective biography <strong>of</strong> seven Vodou priestesses <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>’, Journal <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> Studies, 9.1&2: 11–27.<br />
—— (1998), ‘The Madonna <strong>of</strong> 115th Street revisited: Vodou and Haitian Catholicism<br />
<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> age <strong>of</strong> transnationalism’, <strong>in</strong>: Warner, Stephen and Judith G. Wittner (eds),<br />
Ga<strong>the</strong>r<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong> diaspora: religious communities and <strong>the</strong> new immigration.<br />
Philadelphia: Temple University Press, pp. 123–60.<br />
—— (2002), Rara: Vodou, power, and performance <strong>in</strong> Haiti and its diaspora.<br />
Berkeley: University <strong>of</strong> California Press.<br />
McCutcheon, Russell T. (ed.) (1999), The <strong>in</strong>sider/outsider problem <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> study <strong>of</strong><br />
religion. London: Cassell.<br />
Maihold, Gün<strong>the</strong>r (1986), Identitätssuche <strong>in</strong> Late<strong>in</strong>amerika: Das <strong>in</strong>digenistische<br />
Denken <strong>in</strong> Mexiko. Saarbrücken and Fort Lauderdale: Breitenbach Publishers.<br />
Maison des Cultures du Monde (ed.) (1996), La scène et la terre: questions<br />
d’ethnoscénologie. (Internationale de l’Imag<strong>in</strong>aire, Nouvelle Série, 5) [Paris]: Babel.<br />
Mandressi, Rafaël (1996), ‘L’ethnoscénologie ou la cartographie de terra <strong>in</strong>cognita’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Maison des Cultures du Monde (ed.) La scène et la terre: questions<br />
d’ethnoscénologie. [Paris]: Babel, pp. 91–109.<br />
Mann<strong>in</strong>g, Frank E. (1993), ‘Cosmos and chaos: celebration <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> modern world’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Mann<strong>in</strong>g, Frank E. (ed.), The celebration <strong>of</strong> society: perspectives on contemporary<br />
cultural performance. Bowl<strong>in</strong>g Green, OH: Bowl<strong>in</strong>g Green University Popular<br />
Press, pp. 3–30.<br />
Martín-Barbero, Jesús (1995a), ‘Modernidad, postmodernidad, modernidades<br />
– discursos sobre la crisis y la diferencia’, Intercom: Revista Brasileira de<br />
Comunicação, 18.2: 12–33.<br />
—— (1995b [1991]), ‘Notas sobre el tejido comunicativo de la democracia’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, Néstor (ed.), Cultura y pospolítica: El debate sobre la<br />
modernidad en América Lat<strong>in</strong>a. Mexico: Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las<br />
Artes, pp. 325–42.<br />
Martín-Barbero, Jesús and Sonia Muñoz (eds) (1992), Televisión y melodrama:<br />
géneros y lecturas de la telenovela en Columbia. Bogota: Tercer Mundo<br />
Editores.
Bibliography 187<br />
Mason, Michael Atwood (2002), Liv<strong>in</strong>g Santeria: rituals and experiences <strong>in</strong> an<br />
Afro-Cuban religion. Wash<strong>in</strong>gton, DC: Smithsonian Books.<br />
Mason, Peter (1990), Deconstruct<strong>in</strong>g America: representations <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r. London<br />
and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Routledge.<br />
Métraux, Alfred (1998 [1958]), Le vaudou haïtien. Paris: Ed. Gallimard.<br />
M<strong>in</strong>tz, Sidney W. (1966), ‘The <strong>Caribbean</strong> as a socio-cultural area’, Cahiers d’histoire<br />
mondiale, IX.4: 912–37.<br />
M<strong>in</strong>tz, Sidney W. and Richard Price (1992 [1976]), The birth <strong>of</strong> African-American<br />
culture: an anthropological perspective. Boston: Beacon Press.<br />
M<strong>in</strong>tz, Sidney and Michel-Rolph Trouillot (1995), ‘The social history <strong>of</strong> Haitian<br />
Vodou’, <strong>in</strong>: Cosent<strong>in</strong>o, Donald (ed.), Sacret arts <strong>of</strong> Haitian Vodou. Los Angeles:<br />
UCLA Fowler Museum <strong>of</strong> Cultural History, pp. 123–47.<br />
Monsiváis, Carlos (1983), ‘Penetración cultural y nacionalismo (el caso mexicano)’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: González Casanova, Pablo (ed.), No <strong>in</strong>tervención autodeterm<strong>in</strong>ación y<br />
democracia en América Lat<strong>in</strong>a. Mexico: Siglo 21 Editores, pp. 75–89.<br />
—— (1988 [1987]), Entrada libre: crónicas de la sociedad que se organiza. Mexico:<br />
Ed. Era.<br />
—— (1991), ‘He wagered his heart and lost it to Coca Cola: on <strong>the</strong> happy-foreverafter<br />
<strong>of</strong> civilization and barbarism’, <strong>in</strong>: Oyarzun, Kemy (ed.), Border<strong>in</strong>g difference:<br />
culture and ideology <strong>in</strong> 20th century Mexico. Riverside: University <strong>of</strong> California,<br />
pp. 21–48.<br />
—— (1992), ‘México: ciudad del apocalipsis a plazos’, <strong>in</strong>: Daus, Ronald (ed.),<br />
Großstadtliteratur: e<strong>in</strong> <strong>in</strong>ternationales Colloquium über late<strong>in</strong>amerikanische,<br />
afrikanische und asiatische Metropolen <strong>in</strong> Berl<strong>in</strong>, 14.–16. Juni 1990. Frankfurt:<br />
Vervuert, pp. 31–45.<br />
—— (1994), ‘La cultura popular en el ámbito urbano: el caso de México’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Herl<strong>in</strong>ghaus, Hermann and Monika Walter (eds), Posmodernidad en la periferia:<br />
enfoques lat<strong>in</strong>oamericanos de la nueva teoríe cultural. Berl<strong>in</strong>: Langer, pp. 134–58.<br />
—— (1995 [1991]), ‘Literatura lat<strong>in</strong>oamericana e <strong>in</strong>dustria cultural’, <strong>in</strong>: García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i,<br />
Néstor (ed.), Cultura y pospolítica: El debate sobre la modernidad en América<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong>a. Mexico: Consejo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes, pp. 187–208.<br />
Montoya Bonilla, Sol (2000), ‘Karneval <strong>in</strong> Kolumbien: Mismedad und Otredad <strong>in</strong><br />
Aufführungen und Inszenierungen’, <strong>in</strong>: Montoya Bonilla, Sol and Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt,<br />
Teufel und Heilige auf der Bühne: Religiosität und Freude bei Inszenierungen<br />
mestizischer Feste <strong>in</strong> Südamerika. Marburg: Curupira, pp. 11–79.<br />
Moreno Frag<strong>in</strong>als, Manuel (1984), ‘Apports culturels et déculturation’, <strong>in</strong>: Moreno<br />
Frag<strong>in</strong>als, Manuel (ed.), L’ afrique en Amérique lat<strong>in</strong>e. Paris: UNESCO, pp. 9–25.<br />
Mörner, Magnus (1967), Race mixture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Boston:<br />
Little, Brown and Co.<br />
—— (1970a), ‘Introduction’, <strong>in</strong>: Mörner, Magnus (ed.), Race and class <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and London: Columbia University Press, pp. 1–8.<br />
—— (1970b), ‘Historical research on race relations <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong><br />
national period’, <strong>in</strong>: Mörner, Magnus (ed.), Race and class <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong> and London: Columbia University Press, pp. 199–230.
188<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
—— (1990), ‘Etnicidad, movilidad social y mestizaje en la historia colonial<br />
hispanoamericana’, <strong>in</strong>: Alvarsson, Jan-Åke and Hernán Horna (eds), Ethnicity<br />
<strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America – Etnicidad en Lat<strong>in</strong>oamérica. Uppsala: CELAS, University <strong>of</strong><br />
Uppsala, pp. 29–43.<br />
Morris, Pam (1994), ‘Introduction’, <strong>in</strong>: Morris, Pam (ed.), The Bakht<strong>in</strong> reader:<br />
selected writ<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>of</strong> Bakht<strong>in</strong>, Medvedev and Volosh<strong>in</strong>ov. London: Edward Arnold,<br />
pp. 1–24.<br />
Münzel, Mark (1986), ‘Indianische Oralkultur der Gegenwart’, <strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit<br />
and Mark Münzel, Qellqay: Mündliche Kultur und Schrifttradition bei Indianern<br />
Late<strong>in</strong>amerikas. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Campus, pp. 157–258.<br />
—— (1994), ‘Geisterkultur: S<strong>in</strong>d nun auch noch die My<strong>the</strong>n postmodern?’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken: kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge<br />
zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Narr Verlag, pp. 266–77.<br />
—— (2000), ‘Die schöne Ordnung und die schöne Unordnung der Welt’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Schomburg-Scherff, Sylvia M. and Beatrix He<strong>in</strong>tze (eds), Die <strong>of</strong>fenen Grenzen<br />
der Ethnologie: Schlaglichter auf e<strong>in</strong> sich wandelndes Fach; Klaus E. Müller zum<br />
65. Geburtstag. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Lembeck, pp. 204–15.<br />
Münzel, Mark, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt and Heike Thote (2000), ‘Das Experiment<br />
«Ethnopoesie»’, <strong>in</strong>: Münzel, Mark, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt and Heike Thote (eds),<br />
Zwischen Poesie und Wisenschaft: Essays <strong>in</strong> und neben der Ethnologie. Marburg:<br />
Curupira, pp. 7–10.<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> Department <strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g (1996), The newest <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>ers,<br />
1990–1994: an analysis <strong>of</strong> immigration to NYC <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> early 1990s. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>:<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong> Department <strong>of</strong> <strong>City</strong> Plann<strong>in</strong>g.<br />
Oertzen, Eleonore von (1993), ‘Editoral: Die Wilden und die Barbarei’, <strong>in</strong>: Dirmoser,<br />
Dietmar et al. (eds) Die Wilden und die Barbarei. Münster and Hamburg: Lit.<br />
Verlag, pp. 1–11.<br />
Ong, Aihwa (1996), ‘Cultural citizenship as subject-mak<strong>in</strong>g: immigrants negotiate<br />
racial and cultural boundaries <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> United States (with CA comment)’, Current<br />
Anthropology, 37.5: 737–62.<br />
Ong, Walter J. (1987 [1982]), Oralität und Literalität: Die Technologisierung des<br />
Wortes. Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag.<br />
Ortiz, Fernando (1973 [1906]), Los negros brujos (apuntes para un estudio de<br />
etnología crim<strong>in</strong>al; con una carta prólogo de Lombroso). (Ebano y Canela, 2)<br />
Miami, Fla.: Ediciones Universal.<br />
—— (1993), Etnia y sociedad. La Habana: Ed. de Ciencias Sociales.<br />
—— (2002 [1940]), Contrapunteo cubano del tabaco y el azúcar: (advertencia de<br />
sus contrastes agrarios, económicos, históricos y sociales, su etnografía y su<br />
tranculturación). Madrid: Música Mundana Maqueda.<br />
Palmié, Stephan (1989), ‘Los blancos se meten en todo: Anmerkungen zum<br />
Problem der Transkulturation <strong>in</strong> afro-amerikanischen Kulturen am Beispiel afrokubanischer<br />
Religiösität’, <strong>in</strong>: Kohut, Karl (ed.), Rasse, Klasse und Kultur <strong>in</strong> der<br />
Karibik. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Vervuert, pp. 183–95.<br />
—— (1991), Das Exil der Götter: Geschichte und Vorstellungswelt e<strong>in</strong>er<br />
afrokubanischen Religion. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Peter Lang Verlag.<br />
Paz, Octavio (1987a), ‘¿Postmodernidad?’, Vuelta, 127: 11.
Bibliography 189<br />
—— (1987b), ‘El romanticismo y la poesía contemporánea’, Vuelta, 127: 20–27.<br />
—— (1993 [1967]), Claude Lévi-Strauss o el nuevo festín de Esopo. Barcelona: Ed.<br />
Seix Barral.<br />
Peristany, J. G. (ed.) (1966), Honour and shame: <strong>the</strong> values <strong>of</strong> Mediterranean<br />
society. London and Chicago: University <strong>of</strong> Chicago Press.<br />
Pesmen, Dale (1995 [1991]), ‘Reasonable and unreasonable worlds: some<br />
expectations <strong>of</strong> coherence <strong>in</strong> culture implied by <strong>the</strong> prohibition <strong>of</strong> mixed<br />
metaphor’, <strong>in</strong>: Fernandez, James W. (ed.), Beyond metapher: <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> tropes<br />
<strong>in</strong> anthropology. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, pp. 213–43.<br />
Pierre-Pierre, Garry (1988), ‘A Voodoo priest is charged <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> burn<strong>in</strong>g <strong>of</strong> a woman’,<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> Times, 8 April: B5.<br />
Pietschmann, Horst (1994), ‘¿La historia de América Lat<strong>in</strong>a como historia del nuevo<br />
mestizaje? A propósito de un libro nuevo’, Iberica, Nouvelle Série, 3: 105–10.<br />
Pike, Kenneth L. (1954), Language <strong>in</strong> relation to a unified <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> structure <strong>of</strong><br />
human behavior. Glendale: Summer Institute <strong>of</strong> L<strong>in</strong>guistics.<br />
Pollak-Eltz, Angel<strong>in</strong>a (1995), ‘La transformación de las religiones afroamericanas<br />
en el mundo de hoy’, Horizontes Antropológicos, 3: 80–84.<br />
—— (1998), ‘Oración Fuerte al Espíritu Santo: die brasilianische Igreja Universal<br />
do Re<strong>in</strong>o de Deus <strong>in</strong> Venezuela’, <strong>in</strong>: Schmidt, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. and Lioba Rossbach de<br />
Olmos (eds), Das afrikanische Amerika: Beiträge der Regionalgruppe Aroamerika<br />
auf der Tagung der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Völkerkunde <strong>in</strong> Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong><br />
1997. Marburg: Curupira, pp. 53–64.<br />
Pradier, Jean-Marie (1996), ‘Ethnoscénologie: La pr<strong>of</strong>ondeur des émergences’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Maison des Cultures du Monde (ed.) La scène et la terre: questions<br />
d’ethnoscénologie. [Paris]: Babel, pp. 13–41.<br />
Pye, Michael (1971), ‘Syncretism and ambiguity’, Numen: <strong>in</strong>ternational review for<br />
<strong>the</strong> history <strong>of</strong> religions, 18: 83–93.<br />
—— (1994), ‘Syncretism versus syn<strong>the</strong>sis’, Method & Theory <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Study <strong>of</strong><br />
Religion, 6–3: 217–29.<br />
—— (2000), ‘Participation, observation and reflection: an endless method’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Holm, Nils G. (ed.), Ethnography is a heavy rite: studies <strong>of</strong> comparative religion<br />
<strong>in</strong> honor <strong>of</strong> Juha Pentikä<strong>in</strong>en. Åbo: <strong>Religions</strong>kapliga, pp. 64–79.<br />
Quijano, Aníbal (1995), ‘Modernity, identity, and utopia <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Beverly, John, José Oviedo and Michael Aronna (eds), The postmodernism debate<br />
<strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, pp. 201–16.<br />
Qu<strong>in</strong>n, Naomi (1995 [1991]), ‘The cultural basis <strong>of</strong> metaphor’, <strong>in</strong>: Fernandez, James<br />
W. (ed.), Beyond metapher: <strong>the</strong> <strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> tropes <strong>in</strong> anthropology. Stanford, Calif.:<br />
Stanford University Press, pp. 56–93.<br />
Raul<strong>in</strong>, Anne (1997), Manhattan: ou la mémoire <strong>in</strong>sulaire. Paris: Institut<br />
d’Ethnologie, Musée de l’Homme.<br />
Redfield, Robert and Milton S<strong>in</strong>ger (1954), ‘The cultural role <strong>of</strong> cities’, Economic<br />
development and cultural change, 3: 53–73.<br />
Reizakis, Mar<strong>in</strong>a (2002), Das weibliche Selbstbildnis auf Chios: Verspielte Ikonen<br />
der Frauen <strong>in</strong> der Ägäis. Münster: Lit. Verlag.<br />
Ribeiro, Darcy (1980 [1979]), Unterentwicklung, Kultur und Zivilisation:<br />
ungewöhnliche Versuche. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Suhrkamp.
190<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Richard, Nelly (1994), ‘Lat<strong>in</strong>oamérica y la Posmodernidad’, <strong>in</strong>: Herl<strong>in</strong>ghaus,<br />
Hermann and Monika Walter (eds), Posmodernidad en la periferia: enfoques<br />
lat<strong>in</strong>oamericanos de la nueva teoríe cultural. Berl<strong>in</strong>: Langer, pp. 210–22.<br />
R<strong>in</strong>cón, Carlos (1994), ‘Die neuen Kultur<strong>the</strong>orien: Vor-Geschichten und Bestandsaufnahme’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken: kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische<br />
Grenzgänge zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Narr Verlag, pp. 1–35.<br />
—— (1995), La no simultaneidad de lo simultaéno: postmodernidad, globalización<br />
y culturas en América Lat<strong>in</strong>a. Bogota: Ed. Universidad Nacional de Columbia.<br />
Ritschel, Ute (2000), ‘»Die Poesie der alltäglichen Kunstperformance«: e<strong>in</strong> Text<br />
mit fünf Strophen’, <strong>in</strong>: Münzel, Mark, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt and Heike Thote (eds),<br />
Zwischen Poesie und Wisenschaft: Essays <strong>in</strong> und neben der Ethnologie. Marburg:<br />
Curupira, pp. 209–38.<br />
Rivera Pagán, Luis N. (1994), ‘The penitential doctr<strong>in</strong>e <strong>of</strong> restitution: its use by<br />
Bartolomé de Las Casas to liberate popular religiosity dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> conquest <strong>of</strong><br />
America’, <strong>in</strong>: Stevens-Attoyo, Antonio M. and Ana María Díaz-Stevens (eds), An<br />
endur<strong>in</strong>g flame: studies on Lat<strong>in</strong>o popular religiosity. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Bildner Center<br />
for Western Hemisphere Studies, pp. 97–112.<br />
Rosenau, Paul<strong>in</strong>e Marie (1992), Post-modernism and <strong>the</strong> social sciences: <strong>in</strong>sights,<br />
<strong>in</strong>roads, and <strong>in</strong>trusions. Pr<strong>in</strong>ceton, NJ: Pr<strong>in</strong>ceton University Press.<br />
Rouget, Gilbert (1996), ‘Questions posées a l’ethnoscénologie’, <strong>in</strong>: Maison des<br />
Cultures du Monde (ed.), La scène et la terre: questions d’ethnoscénologie.<br />
[Paris]: Babel, pp. 43–53.<br />
Safran, William (1991), ‘<strong>Diaspora</strong>s <strong>in</strong> Modern Societies: myths <strong>of</strong> homeland and<br />
return’, <strong>Diaspora</strong>: Journal <strong>of</strong> transnational studies, 1: 93–9.<br />
St. John, Spenser (1971 [1884]), Hayti <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Black Republic. London: Frank Cass<br />
& Co.<br />
Salazar, Ernesto (1995), Entre mitos y fábulas: el Ecuador aborigen. Quito:<br />
Corporación Editora Nacional.<br />
Salman, Ton (1996), ‘The locus <strong>of</strong> dispersion: study<strong>in</strong>g Lat<strong>in</strong> American popular<br />
culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1990s’, <strong>in</strong>: Salman, Ton (ed.), The legacy <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> dis<strong>in</strong>herited, popular<br />
culture <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America: modernity, globalization, hybridity and au<strong>the</strong>nticity.<br />
(America Studies) Amsterdam: CEDLA, pp. 3–32.<br />
Sánchez Cárdenas, Julio A. (1978), La religion de los orichas. Creencias y ceremonias<br />
de un culto afro-caribeño. Hato Rey, P.R.: Ramallo Bros.<br />
Sandoval, Mercedes Cros (1975), La religión afrocubana. Madrid: Playor.<br />
Santiago, Silviano (1978), Uma literatura nos trópicos: ensaios sobre dependência<br />
cultural. São Paulo: Ed. Perspectiva.<br />
—— (1989), ‘Modernidade e tradição popular’, Revista brasileira de literatura<br />
comparada, 1: 41–51.<br />
—— (1995), ‘Read<strong>in</strong>gs and discursive <strong>in</strong>tensities: on <strong>the</strong> situation <strong>of</strong> postmodern<br />
reception <strong>in</strong> Brazil’, <strong>in</strong>: Beverly, John, José Oviedo and Michael Aronna (eds),<br />
The postmodernism debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Durham, NC and London: Duke<br />
University Press, pp. 241–9.<br />
Scharlau, Birgit (1985), ‘Abhängigkeit und Autonomie: Die Sprachbetrachtung des<br />
Inca Garcilaso de la Vega’, Iberoamericana, 25/26: 53–64.
Bibliography 191<br />
—— (1994), ‘Late<strong>in</strong>amerikanistik – am Ende des Jahrhunderts’, <strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit<br />
(ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken: kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge zwischen Moderne<br />
und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Narr Verlag, pp. xi–xxiii.<br />
Schiffauer, Werner (1988), ‘Migration and religiousness’, <strong>in</strong>: Gerholm, Tomas<br />
and Yngve Georg Lithman (eds), The new Islamic presence <strong>in</strong> Western Europe.<br />
London and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Mansell Publish<strong>in</strong>g, pp. 146–58.<br />
—— (1997), Fremde <strong>in</strong> der Stadt: zehn Essays über Kultur und Differenz. Frankfurt<br />
am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Suhrkamp.<br />
Schmidt, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. (1989), ‘Untersuchung zu den Heilpflanzen der Tarasken <strong>in</strong><br />
Michoacán, Mexiko, auf Grund eigener Feldstudien’, unpublished Magister<br />
dissertation, Philipps-Universität Marburg.<br />
—— (1995), Von Geistern, Orichas und den Puertoricanern: zur Verb<strong>in</strong>dung von<br />
Religion und Ethnizität. Marburg: Fördervere<strong>in</strong> Völkerkunde <strong>in</strong> Marburg.<br />
—— (1998a), ‘Die Konstruktion ethnischer Identität und ihre Variationsvielfalt <strong>in</strong><br />
der Karibik’, <strong>in</strong>: Grugel, Andrea and Ingo W. Schröder (eds), Grenzziehungen:<br />
Zur Konstruktion ethnischer Identitäten <strong>in</strong> der Arena sozio-politischer Konflikte.<br />
Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Verlag für Interkulturelle Kommunikation, pp. 159–77.<br />
—— (1998b), ‘Religion als kreative Überlebensstrategie: Karibische Migranten <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>’, <strong>in</strong>: Schmidt, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. and Lioba Rossbach de Olmos (eds),<br />
Das afrikanische Amerika: Beiträge der Regionalgruppe Aroamerika auf der<br />
Tagung der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Völkerkunde <strong>in</strong> Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong> 1997.<br />
Marburg: Curupira, pp. 43–52.<br />
—— (2000), ‘Weihnachten und die Wallfahrt zur Jungfrau Maria: Kulturelle<br />
Inszenierung urbaner Feste <strong>in</strong> Ecuador und die Grenzen der Theaterethnologie’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Montoya Bonilla, Sol and Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. Schmidt, Teufel und Heilige auf der Bühne:<br />
Religiosität und Freude bei Inszenierungen mestizischer Feste <strong>in</strong> Südamerika.<br />
Marburg: Curupira, pp. 81–161.<br />
—— (2001a), ‘The <strong>in</strong>terpretation <strong>of</strong> violent worldviews: cannibalism and o<strong>the</strong>r<br />
violent images <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>’, <strong>in</strong>: Schmidt, Bett<strong>in</strong>a E. and Ingo W. Schröder<br />
(eds), Anthropology <strong>of</strong> Violence and Conflict. London and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Routledge,<br />
pp. 76–96.<br />
—— (2001b), ‘Die Keramikfiguren der Purhépecha’, <strong>in</strong>: Voell, Stéphane (ed.),<br />
»Ohne Museum geht es nicht«: Die Völkerkundliche Sammlung der Philipps-<br />
Universität Marburg. Marburg: Curupira, pp. 123–36.<br />
—— (2002), Karibische <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Vom »Wilden Denken« zur<br />
»Polyphonen Kultur«. Berl<strong>in</strong>: Reimer Verlag.<br />
—— (2004), ‘“Mit der U-Bahn <strong>in</strong>s Feld”: Der Abschied von Mal<strong>in</strong>owskis e<strong>in</strong>samer<br />
Insel. Feldforschung im 21. Jahrhundert’, Anthropos, 99: 215–22.<br />
—— (2007), ‘Misuse <strong>of</strong> a religion: Vodou as political power rooted <strong>in</strong> “magic”<br />
and “sorcery”’, Diskus, <strong>the</strong> Journal <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> British Association for <strong>the</strong> Study <strong>of</strong><br />
<strong>Religions</strong>, 8. Available at http://www.basr.ac.uk/diskus/diskus8/schmidt.htm (last<br />
accessed 21 March 2008).<br />
Schneider, David M. (1995), Schneider on Schneider: <strong>the</strong> conversion <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Jew and<br />
o<strong>the</strong>r anthropological stories. David M. Schneider as told to Richard Handler;<br />
ed., transcribed, and with an <strong>in</strong>troduction by Richard Handler. Durham, NC and<br />
London: Duke University Press.
192<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Schomburg-Scherff, Sylvia M. (1999), Die Sp<strong>in</strong>ne im Herrenhaus: Karibische<br />
Romane als Identitätserzählungen, e<strong>in</strong>e ethnologische Perspektive. Berl<strong>in</strong>:<br />
Reimer.<br />
Schröder, Johannes Lothar (2000), ‘Der Sprung <strong>in</strong> die Stammesgesellschaft: Rollenambivalenzen<br />
und Performances bildender Künstler’, <strong>in</strong>: Münzel, Mark, Bett<strong>in</strong>a<br />
E. Schmidt and Heike Thote (eds), Zwischen Poesie und Wisenschaft: Essays <strong>in</strong><br />
und neben der Ethnologie. Marburg: Curupira, pp. 189–208.<br />
Schuyler, Philip D. (1984), ‘Berber pr<strong>of</strong>essional musicians <strong>in</strong> performance’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Béhague, Gerard (ed.), Performance practice: ethnomusicological perspectives.<br />
Westport and London: Greenwood Press, pp. 91–148.<br />
Schumm, Petra (1994), ‘“Mestizaje” und “culturas híbridas” – kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische<br />
Konzepte im Vergleich’, <strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken:<br />
kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen:<br />
Narr Verlag, pp. 59–80.<br />
Schwarz, Roberto (1995), ‘National by imitation’, <strong>in</strong>: Beverly, John, José Oviedo<br />
and Michael Aronna (eds), The postmodernism debate <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Durham,<br />
NC and London: Duke University Press, pp. 264–81.<br />
Seeber-Tegeth<strong>of</strong>f, Mareile (1998), ‘Zum großen Erfolg der Igreja Universal <strong>in</strong><br />
Brasilien’, Anthropos, 93: 89–99.<br />
Shaughnessy, Gerald (1925), Has <strong>the</strong> immigrant kept <strong>the</strong> faith? A study <strong>of</strong> immigration<br />
and catholic church <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> United States, 1790–1920. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Macmillan.<br />
Smith, M. G. (1960), ‘Social and cultural pluralism’, Annals <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
Academy <strong>of</strong> Sciences, 83: 763–85.<br />
Sosa, Juan Jorge (1981), ‘La Santería, a way <strong>of</strong> look<strong>in</strong>g at reality’, Master <strong>the</strong>sis,<br />
Atlantic University, Boca Raton, Fla.<br />
Spielmann, Ellen (1994a), Brasilianischen Fiktionen: Gegenwart als Pastiche.<br />
Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Vervuert.<br />
—— (1994b), ‘“Tropicália”: Kulturprojekt der sechziger Jahre <strong>in</strong> Brasilien’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken: kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge<br />
zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen: Narr Verlag, pp. 145–60.<br />
Spr<strong>in</strong>ger, Pearl E<strong>in</strong>tou (1995), ‘Orisa and <strong>the</strong> Spiritual Baptist religion <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad<br />
and Tobago’, <strong>in</strong>: Sankeralli, Burton (ed.), At <strong>the</strong> crossroads: African <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
religion & christianity, a publication <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Conference <strong>of</strong> Churches<br />
(C.C.C.). St. James, T. & T.: <strong>Caribbean</strong> Conference <strong>of</strong> Churches, pp. 85–108.<br />
Stern, Robert L. (1989 [1982]), ‘Evolution <strong>of</strong> Hispanic M<strong>in</strong>istry <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
Archdiacese’, <strong>in</strong>: Dayle, Ruth T. and Olga Scarpetta (eds), Hispanics <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong>: religious, cultural, and social experiences; a study <strong>of</strong> Hispanics <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
Archdiocese <strong>of</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> (Vol. 2). <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Office <strong>of</strong> Pastoral Research and<br />
Plann<strong>in</strong>g, pp. 305–89.<br />
Stienen, Angela (1995), Die schick gestylte Stadt der 90er Jahre: neue Theorien zur<br />
Stadtentwicklung und die ‘Multikulturelle Stadt’. Bern: Institut für Ethnologie.<br />
Stoll, David (1993), ‘Introduction: reth<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g protestantism <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong> America’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Garrard-Burnett, Virg<strong>in</strong>ia and David Stoll (eds), Reth<strong>in</strong>k<strong>in</strong>g Protestantism <strong>in</strong><br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, pp. 1–19.
Bibliography 193<br />
Stutzman, Ronald (1981), ‘El Mestizaje: an all-<strong>in</strong>clusive ideology <strong>of</strong> exclusion’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Whitten, Norman E. (ed.), Cultural transformations and ethnicity <strong>in</strong> modern<br />
Ecuador. Urbana: University <strong>of</strong> Ill<strong>in</strong>ois Press, pp. 45–94.<br />
Tedlock, Dennis (1988 [1983]), The spoken word and <strong>the</strong> work <strong>of</strong> <strong>in</strong>terpretation.<br />
Philadelphia: University <strong>of</strong> Pennsylvania Press.<br />
Thomas-Hope, Elizabeth M. (1992), Explanation <strong>in</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> migration, perception<br />
and <strong>the</strong> image: Jamaica, Barbados, St V<strong>in</strong>cent. London: Macmillan.<br />
Thompson, Robert Farris (1993), Face <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> gods: art and altars <strong>of</strong> Africa and <strong>the</strong><br />
African Americas. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> and München: Museum <strong>of</strong> African Art and Prestel.<br />
Todorov, Tzvetan (1982), La conquête de l’Amérique: la question de l’autre. Paris:<br />
Editions du Seuil.<br />
—— (1986), ‘Le croisement des cultures’, Communications, 43: 5–26.<br />
—— (1989), Nous et les autres: la réflexion française sur la diversité huma<strong>in</strong>e.<br />
Paris: Ed. du Seuil.<br />
Torres, Andrés (1995), Between melt<strong>in</strong>g pot and mosaic: African-Americans and<br />
Puerto Ricans <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> political economy. Philadelphia: Temple University<br />
Press.<br />
Turner, Terence (1995 [1991]), ‘“We are parrots”, “Tw<strong>in</strong>s are birds”: play <strong>of</strong> tropes<br />
as operational structure’, <strong>in</strong>: Fernandez, James W. (ed.), Beyond metapher: <strong>the</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong>ory <strong>of</strong> tropes <strong>in</strong> anthropology. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press,<br />
pp. 121–58.<br />
Turner, Victor (1974 [1969]), The ritual process: structure and anti-structure.<br />
Harmondsworth: Pengu<strong>in</strong>.<br />
Van Capelleveen, Remco (1993), ‘“Peripheral” culture <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> metropolis: West<br />
Indians <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>’, <strong>in</strong>: Bremer, Thomas and Ulrich Fleischmann (eds),<br />
Alternative cultures <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong>: first <strong>in</strong>ternational conference <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Society<br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> Research, Berl<strong>in</strong> 1988. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Vervuert, pp. 131–47.<br />
Vázquez, Lourdes (1998), ‘A brief history <strong>of</strong> my country’, <strong>in</strong>: Balutansky, Kathleen<br />
and Marie-Agnés Sourieau (eds), <strong>Caribbean</strong> creolization: reflections on <strong>the</strong><br />
cultural dynamics <strong>of</strong> language, literature, and identity. Ga<strong>in</strong>esville, Fla. and<br />
Barbados: University Press <strong>of</strong> Florida and University <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> West Indies Press,<br />
pp. 76–86.<br />
Vega, Marta Moreno (1995), ‘The Yoruba Orisha tradition comes to <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> <strong>City</strong>’,<br />
African American Review, 29.2: 201–6.<br />
Wade, Bonnie C. (1984), ‘Performance practice <strong>in</strong> Indian classical music’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Béhague, Gerard (ed.), Performance practice: ethnomusicological perspectives.<br />
Westport, Conn. and London: Greenwood Press, pp. 13–52.<br />
Warner, R. Stephen (1998), ‘Immigration and religious communities <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> United<br />
States’, <strong>in</strong>: Warner, Stephen and Judith G. Wittner (eds), Ga<strong>the</strong>r<strong>in</strong>gs <strong>in</strong> diaspora:<br />
religious communities and <strong>the</strong> new immigration. Philadelphia: Temple University<br />
Press, pp. 3–34.<br />
Welz, Gisela (1991), Street Life: Alltag <strong>in</strong> e<strong>in</strong>em <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>er Slum. Frankfurt am<br />
Ma<strong>in</strong>: Institut für Kulturanthropologie und Europäische Ethnologie.<br />
—— (1996), Inszenierungen kultureller Vielfalt: Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong> und <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong><br />
<strong>City</strong>. Berl<strong>in</strong>: Akademie Verlag.
194<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Werbner, Richard (1994), ‘Afterword’, <strong>in</strong>: Steward, Charles and Rosal<strong>in</strong>d Shaw<br />
(eds), Syncretism/Anti-syncretism: <strong>the</strong> politics <strong>of</strong> religious syn<strong>the</strong>sis. London and<br />
<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Routledge, pp. 212–15.<br />
Whitten, Norman E. (ed.) (1981), Cultural transformations and ethnicity <strong>in</strong> modern<br />
Ecuador. Urbana: University <strong>of</strong> Ill<strong>in</strong>ois Press.<br />
Wiener, Michael (2000), ‘Der Schamane: Ethnologie als schöne Kunst betrachtet’,<br />
<strong>in</strong>: Schomburg-Scherff, Sylvia M. and Beatrix He<strong>in</strong>tze (eds) Die <strong>of</strong>fenen Grenzen<br />
der Ethnologie: Schlaglichter auf e<strong>in</strong> sich wandelndes Fach; Klaus E. Müller zum<br />
65. Geburtstag. Frankfurt am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Lembeck, pp. 231–45.<br />
Wilson, Carlos Guillermo (1998), ‘The <strong>Caribbean</strong>: marvelous cradle-hammock<br />
and pa<strong>in</strong>ful cornucopia’, <strong>in</strong>: Balutansky, Kathleen and Marie-Agnés Sourieau<br />
(eds) <strong>Caribbean</strong> creolization: reflections on <strong>the</strong> cultural dynamics <strong>of</strong> language,<br />
literature, and identity. Ga<strong>in</strong>esville, Fla. and Barbados: University Press <strong>of</strong> Florida<br />
and University <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> West Indies Press, pp. 36–43.<br />
Wohlrab-Sahr, Monika (1995), ‘E<strong>in</strong>leitung’, <strong>in</strong>: Wohlrab-Sahr, Monika (ed.),<br />
Biographie und Religion: zwischen Ritual und Selbstsuche. Frankfurt and <strong>New</strong><br />
<strong>York</strong>: Campus, pp. 9–23.<br />
Wüst, Ruth (1991), ‘Der Karneval <strong>in</strong> Tr<strong>in</strong>idad: e<strong>in</strong> vergängliches Kunstwerk’, <strong>in</strong>:<br />
Hoenisch, Michael and Remco van Capelleveen (eds), Anglophone Karibik – <strong>USA</strong>:<br />
Peripherie und Zentrum <strong>in</strong> der ‚neuen Welt‘. Hamburg and Berl<strong>in</strong>: Argument-<br />
Verlag, pp. 68–80.<br />
Young, Robert J. C. (1995), Colonial desire: hybridity <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ory, culture and race.<br />
London and <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Routledge.<br />
Youssef, Nadia A. (1992), The demographics <strong>of</strong> immigration: a socio-demographic<br />
pr<strong>of</strong>ile <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> foreign-born population <strong>in</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> State. <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>: Center for<br />
Migration.<br />
Yúdice, George (1991), ‘Postmodernity and transnational capitalism <strong>in</strong> Lat<strong>in</strong><br />
America’, Revista brasileira de literatura comparada, 1: 87–109.<br />
Zea, Leopoldo (1978), ‘Negritud e <strong>in</strong>digenismo’, <strong>in</strong>: Durand, René L. F. (ed.),<br />
Négritude et Amérique Lat<strong>in</strong>e: Colloque de Dakar . Dakar,<br />
Abidjan: Les Nouvelles Éditions Africa<strong>in</strong>e, pp. 25–36.<br />
Zires, Margarita (1994), ‘Análisis de las tendencias de convergencia y divergencia<br />
cultural en América Lat<strong>in</strong>a’, <strong>in</strong>: Scharlau, Birgit (ed.), Late<strong>in</strong>amerika denken:<br />
kultur<strong>the</strong>oretische Grenzgänge zwischen Moderne und Postmoderne. Tüb<strong>in</strong>gen:<br />
Narr Verlag, pp. 81–92.<br />
—— (1997), Mündliche Kulturen <strong>in</strong> ihrer Wechselbeziehung zu schriftlichen und<br />
audiovisuellen Kulturen: Das Gerücht über die Schlümpfe <strong>in</strong> Mexiko. Frankfurt<br />
am Ma<strong>in</strong>: Vervuert.
Index<br />
African-Americans 12–13, 16, 18, 19, 36,<br />
53, 59, 75, 76, 77, 79, 81–5, 148,<br />
152, 153–4, 157, 158, 166, 167<br />
Afro-Americans see African-Americans<br />
Amado, Jorge 118–19, 124<br />
American Museum <strong>of</strong> Natural History 20,<br />
23, 24, 26<br />
ashés 79<br />
babalawos 72, 74, 77, 78, 84; see also ifá<br />
Bakht<strong>in</strong>, Mikhail 95–6, 161–3, 169–70<br />
Bandon, George 71<br />
Bastide, Roger 151–4, 164<br />
Bauman, Richard 20, 107<br />
bembés 80, 81, 83, 157<br />
Ben<strong>in</strong> 25, 54, 71<br />
Benítez Rojo, Antonio 134–5, 136, 145<br />
Bhabha, Homi K. 93–4<br />
Brandon, George 71–3<br />
brasilidade 112, 114, 139<br />
Brazil 21, 38, 40, 41, 42, 62, 105–6, 109, 110,<br />
112–20, 122, 125–9, 153, 158, 164<br />
Brazilian culture 114, 116, 118–19,<br />
121–2, 123–4, 128–9<br />
Brazilian identity 124<br />
bricolage 5, 145–6, 147, 149–50, 151–6,<br />
159–61, 165, 166, 168, 171–2<br />
bricoleur 146, 149, 150, 151, 160, 166, 171<br />
Brooklyn 2, 4, 7, 8–10, 12, 14–15, 17, 18,<br />
23, 25, 27, 33, 36, 37, 39–42, 46–9,<br />
51–2, 54, 59–60, 62, 68, 69, 87–8,<br />
102–3, 110–11, 114, 126, 129, 142,<br />
143, 155, 157, 158, 167, 169, 174<br />
Brown, Karen McCarthy 25, 60–61, 68–70<br />
Candomblé 21, 41, 62–3, 65, 83, 118, 152–3<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> Americans 12; see also<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn 2, 13–19,<br />
20, 126–7, 169<br />
Labor Day Parade 13–15<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> Cultural Center 20, 26–7, 74<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> culture 1–2, 4, 19–20, 22, 27, 88,<br />
167–8, 171–2<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> identity 1, 16<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> migrants 4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 13–14,<br />
16–18, 29, 36, 39, 43, 46, 47, 51–2,<br />
59, 61, 66–7, 81, 83, 166, 167<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> 4, 8, 10, 21, 22<br />
carnival 13–19, 20, 100, 116, 122–3, 124–7,<br />
128, 129, 139, 160, 162, 163, 164,<br />
174; see also <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong><br />
Brooklyn<br />
Carpentier, Alejo 159–60, 162, 163<br />
Catholic Church see Roman Catholic Church<br />
Christianity 34, 36, 63, 92, 99; see also<br />
Protestants; Roman Catholic Church<br />
c<strong>in</strong>ema see film<br />
collective memory 152–4<br />
communication media 89, 94, 96, 97, 100,<br />
105–7, 108, 110, 114, 116, 120–21;<br />
see also film<br />
Condé, Maryse 1, 4<br />
Creole 1, 2, 8, 34, 57, 63, 131–7, 142, 166<br />
Creole culture 1, 5, 71, 133, 135, 136<br />
Creole identity 1, 132, 134<br />
créolité 1, 131–2, 134, 137<br />
creolization 1, 5, 131–4, 136–7, 142,<br />
164–5<br />
criollos 91, 131, 134<br />
cultura criolla 131, 134–5, 145<br />
Cuba 2, 26, 47, 70–74, 81, 84, 143<br />
Cuban identity 72, 135<br />
Cubans 3, 27, 29, 30–31, 37, 53, 62, 70,<br />
72–7, 75, 79, 82–4, 109, 134–5, 139,<br />
143, 148, 155, 159–60, 173<br />
cultura popular 94–5, 96, 98, 100, 108, 116<br />
cultural heterogeneity 93–4, 103, 110<br />
cultural mix<strong>in</strong>g 88–9<br />
cultural <strong>the</strong>oretical debate 2, 4–5, 89, 112,<br />
116, 137, 138, 145, 155, 163–4, 165,<br />
171<br />
da Matta, Roberto 3, 122–9, 139, 164
196<br />
dance 82, 143, 157; see also performance<br />
dance workshops 27–8, 137, 173<br />
Danticat, Edwidge 1, 133<br />
deities 46, 51–2, 56, 62, 71, 77, 81, 105,<br />
111, 127, 145, 153, 164, 167, 174<br />
Deren, Maya 26<br />
Derrida, Jacques 149–50<br />
<strong>Diaspora</strong> 1, 2, 10, 13, 103, 167<br />
Dom<strong>in</strong>ican Republic 1, 139–40<br />
Dom<strong>in</strong>icans 9, 11, 27, 37–8, 139–40<br />
drums 28–30, 59, 65, 75, 80–81, 83, 87,<br />
142, 143<br />
báta 30, 80, 81<br />
Duvalier, François 58<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
hybridization 5, 94–6, 101, 151, 163–4<br />
ifá 70, 75, 78, 84, 103<br />
Iglesia Universal 4, 36, 38–9, 40–43, 54,<br />
110–11, 119, 126–7, 129, 155, 156,<br />
157, 158, 164<br />
Igreja Universal see Iglesia Universal<br />
immigrants see migrants<br />
<strong>in</strong>itiation 50, 59, 60, 65, 69, 73–4, 75, 76,<br />
77, 80, 81<br />
Jamaica 17, 56<br />
Jamaicans 9, 17, 137<br />
j’ouvert 17–18, 167, 169–70, 174<br />
egúns 77, 78–9, 81<br />
emigrants see migrants<br />
ergriffen 22<br />
ethnoscénologie 8, 19–22<br />
exhibitions 23–26<br />
exorcism 111<br />
film 26, 67, 68, 94, 97, 106, 107, 108, 109,<br />
114, 121; see also communication<br />
media<br />
Freyre, Gilberto 112–14, 118, 122, 127, 134,<br />
139<br />
García Cancl<strong>in</strong>i, Néstor 19, 23, 93, 94–5,<br />
96–103, 104, 107–8, 122, 141<br />
Geertz, Clifford 3, 7, 171<br />
Glissant, Édouard 132, 133, 135–6, 145<br />
Haiti 1, 5, 18, 24, 25–6, 54–9, 62, 63, 64–6,<br />
68–70, 72, 133, 137, 155<br />
Haitian culture 23, 24, 26, 29, 68<br />
Haitian identity 57, 166<br />
Haitians 1, 2, 3, 5, 17–19, 24, 26, 29,<br />
35, 53–4, 55, 57, 58, 65–9, 130, 133,<br />
137, 165, 167<br />
Halbwachs, Maurice 152<br />
Herskovits, Melville 5, 26, 45, 55, 157<br />
H<strong>in</strong>duism 45, 46, 52, 83, 103<br />
Hispanics 7, 37, 82; see also Lat<strong>in</strong> America,<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong>os<br />
Holy Spirit 42, 50, 52, 87–8, 110, 145<br />
Hurbon, Laënnec 54–6, 58, 61–5<br />
hybrid cultures 19, 94–5, 100, 101–3<br />
hybridity 93–5, 97, 100–102, 107–8, 132<br />
Kabbalah 43, 44, 45, 46, 52, 103<br />
Kreyòl 1, 10, 19, 35, 58, 62, 63–4, 65, 68,<br />
69, 130, 166, 167, 169<br />
Labor Day Parade see <strong>Caribbean</strong> carnival <strong>in</strong><br />
Brooklyn, Labor Day Parade<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> America 2, 4, 5, 7, 34, 37–8, 43, 89,<br />
90, 92–4, 100, 101, 103–5, 109,<br />
112–16, 153, 154, 155, 163–4,<br />
172–3<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American culture 88, 93, 94, 97–8,<br />
101, 102, 103, 105–6, 108–10, 128,<br />
147, 160, 163–4, 172<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American migrants 7, 8, 9–10, 34,<br />
36, 37, 38, 39–40, 42, 43, 106<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> Americans 7, 27, 38, 42–3, 91,<br />
103, 105–6, 147, 172–3<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong>os 4, 7, 12, 27, 29, 36–7, 39–40, 81<br />
Lévi-Strauss, Claude 2, 5, 124, 145–52,<br />
154–5, 160–61, 165, 169–70, 171,<br />
173<br />
Lucumí 84<br />
lwa 24, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60–66, 77, 83,<br />
130–31, 133, 156, 157<br />
madr<strong>in</strong>as (godmo<strong>the</strong>rs) 79, 82–3<br />
Mama Lola 24, 25, 68<br />
mambos 54, 59, 60–61, 68, 69, 130–31<br />
Manhattan (<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>) 4, 7, 8, 12, 23, 36,<br />
40, 75<br />
Harlem 13, 30, 75, 158<br />
memory 152, 154; see also collective<br />
memory<br />
mestizaje 5, 89–95, 101–3, 122, 163, 164
Index 197<br />
Mestize 2<br />
mestizos 90–92, 102, 132, 163; see also<br />
mestizaje<br />
Métraux, Alfred 62, 63, 66<br />
Mexicans 7, 9, 11, 30, 36, 37, 39, 94, 98,<br />
106, 143, 149, 160<br />
Mexico 23, 36, 39, 94, 97–8, 101, 102,<br />
105–6, 107–9, 115, 122, 141<br />
migrants 8–10, 12, 13, 34, 35, 36–9, 52, 61,<br />
66–7, 68, 69, 71, 73–6, 79, 81, 83–4,<br />
97, 100, 106, 129, 137–8, 139–42,<br />
152, 155, 156<br />
from Lat<strong>in</strong> America see Lat<strong>in</strong> America,<br />
Lat<strong>in</strong> American migrants<br />
from <strong>the</strong> <strong>Caribbean</strong> see <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
migrants<br />
Monsiváis, Carlos 108–10<br />
Mora, Francisco (Pancho) 74–5<br />
Museo del Barrio 30<br />
Museo Nacional de Antropología, Mexico<br />
<strong>City</strong> 23<br />
music 82, 87, 109, 137, 143, 155, 157, 160,<br />
164, 167; see also performance<br />
music workshops 28–9<br />
musicians 65, 75, 76, 80–81, 130, 169,<br />
173<br />
orichas 27–8, 30, 74, 75, 76, 77–8, 80–81,<br />
83, 92, 143, 156, 157<br />
orishas 52; see also Shango<br />
Orisha Baptists 35, 46; see also Spiritual<br />
Baptists<br />
Orisha-Religion see Spiritual Baptists<br />
orixás 41, 158; see also orichas<br />
Ortiz, Fernando 72, 75, 135<br />
padr<strong>in</strong>os (godfa<strong>the</strong>rs) 79, 82<br />
Palo Monte 82<br />
pastiche 117–19, 120, 121<br />
Paz, Octavio 104, 147–9<br />
Pentecostal Church see Pentecostalism<br />
Pentecostalism 34, 38, 39–40, 51; see also<br />
Iglesia Universal<br />
performance 19–22, 23, 24, 26–31, 119,<br />
137, 143, 173; see also dance;<br />
drums; music<br />
polyphony 22, 159–60, 161, 162, 163–4,<br />
166<br />
polyphonic culture 160, 161, 163,<br />
165–6, 168, 170–71<br />
polyphonic novel 161, 163<br />
postmodernism 103–5, 112, 115,<br />
116–17, 120, 138, 173; see also<br />
postmodernity<br />
postmodernity 94, 98, 103–4<br />
Protestants 25, 34, 36, 37, 40, 42, 43, 44, 51,<br />
54, 82, 75<br />
Puerto Rico 1, 2, 5, 8, 22, 70, 72, 75, 79, 81,<br />
82, 84<br />
Puerto Rican culture 26–8, 29<br />
Puerto Ricans 5, 9–10, 11, 14, 30, 35–7,<br />
38, 53, 73–6, 78, 81–2, 84, 109,<br />
139–40, 148, 154<br />
Purhépecha 98–99, 102<br />
Queen Mo<strong>the</strong>r 46, 48–9, 50, 60<br />
Queens (<strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>) 8, 12, 36, 39, 40, 48,<br />
158<br />
regla de ifá 35, 70; see also Santería<br />
regla de ocha 35, 70; see also Santería<br />
religión de Lucumí see Santería<br />
religión de los orichas see Santería<br />
rite <strong>of</strong> passage 49, 50; see also <strong>in</strong>itiation<br />
rituals 28, 43, 49, 52, 58, 60–61, 63, 65, 69,<br />
70, 76, 78–81, 82, 83, 108, 123, 137,<br />
151, 158, 162<br />
Roman Catholic Church 35, 36–40, 42, 57,<br />
58, 71, 82, 167, 168<br />
Roman Catholicism 34, 35, 43, 44, 51, 55,<br />
56, 63; see also Roman Catholic<br />
Church<br />
sacrifice 46, 48, 49, 51, 59, 65, 81, 168<br />
sa<strong>in</strong>ts 39, 46, 51, 56, 59, 62–3, 66, 71, 74,<br />
77, 78, 80, 83, 87, 88, 92, 118, 123,<br />
155, 158<br />
santeras/santeros 53, 70, 72, 74, 76–81, 83,<br />
148, 157<br />
Santería 4, 29, 35, 53, 62, 70–77, 80–85,<br />
130, 134–5, 143, 148, 156–8, 167–8<br />
Santiago, Silviano 117, 118–21, 142<br />
Shakers 45<br />
Shango 22, 35, 44, 51–2, 158; see also<br />
Spiritual Baptists<br />
Shouter Baptist Church 44
198<br />
Shouters 44–5, 50, 53, 158; see also<br />
Spiritual Baptists<br />
slave trade 44, 55–7, 63, 70–71, 84, 102,<br />
112–13, 127, 153<br />
spirit manifestations 21, 22, 60, 64–5<br />
spirits 3, 4, 24, 33, 42, 45, 51, 54–5, 58–9,<br />
62<br />
Spiritism 71, 74, 75, 78, 167<br />
Spiritual Baptists 4, 43–5, 50–54, 155; see<br />
also Shango; Shouters<br />
syncretism 34, 95, 97, 151<br />
Todorov, Tzvetan 95–6<br />
transculturation 135<br />
Tr<strong>in</strong>idad and Tobago 16, 18, 26, 43–5, 46,<br />
47, 51, 53, 84, 155, 158, 174<br />
Tr<strong>in</strong>idadians 9, 13, 16, 17, 18, 43, 47, 83<br />
tropicália 114–15, 118<br />
Umbanda 126, 127<br />
urban cultures 11–20, 22, 23–4, 96, 101,<br />
109, 137–40<br />
<strong>Caribbean</strong> <strong>Diaspora</strong> <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> <strong>USA</strong><br />
Vázquez, Lourdes 5<br />
Vega, Marta M. 26–7, 74–5<br />
Vodou 4, 23–6, 29, 35, 53, 54–60, 62–70,<br />
77, 83, 129–31, 133, 137, 143, 155,<br />
157, 165, 166–7<br />
vodouisants (Vodou practitioners) 24–5,<br />
58, 62, 64–9, 83, 157<br />
West Indian American Day Carnival<br />
Association 16; see also <strong>Caribbean</strong><br />
carnival <strong>in</strong> Brooklyn<br />
Wilson, Carlos Guillermo 1–2<br />
Yoruba 21, 44, 55, 63, 71, 73, 75, 77, 82–4,<br />
134, 155, 158<br />
Yoruba religión see Santería<br />
Yoruba-Orisha Baptist Church 43–9, 52,<br />
60, 71, 87, 102–3, 155, 157, 158,<br />
159, 164<br />
zombies 66