Gwo fet "Gede" lan Oakland, Kalifoni.

Celebrating Ghede, Haitian day of the dead
Wanda J. Ravernell, Special to The Chronicle

Wednesday, October 29, 2008


"It's like New Year's Day for the dead." That's how Sherly Turenne sums up the celebration for Ghede spirits, led by Baron Samedi, god of death in Haiti's Vodun tradition.

He is anticipated with happiness as the protector of children, provider of wise advice and the last best hope for the seriously ill.

Celebrated on Nov. 2, along with the Catholic All Souls' Day, Ghede (GEH-day) is also a day to remember and honor ancestors.

With a population of 8.5 million, Haiti is 90 percent Catholic and 100 percent Vodun (VOH-doon), a religion that accommodated the practices and principles of captives from Dahomey, Yorubaland, Congo and Angola who were brought to the island during the African slave trade.

The Dahomey/Yoruba term can refer both to the verb gede, to cut through, and igede, incantation, hinting at cutting through to mystery, in this case the mystery of death. Because the Africans combined the elements of their various geographical regions, there came to be in Haiti many Ghedes, several Barons and a creole term referring to a formal god, all referring to the dead and death itself.

Ghedes are part of the pantheon of gods known as Loa (Loh-WAH). Ghede then, as the ruler of death and embodying also the principle of resurrection, governs the preservation and renewal of life. He is sometimes also referred to with affection as Papa Ghede.

People will put on their Sunday best, Turenne said, and go to church first thing in the morning to pray.

Then they will go home and put on the regalia of the ragtag Ghedes, as the spirits of the underworld are often called, or the elegant Baron Samedi (SAHM-dee) in his black, white and purple color scheme. An outfit, said Turenne, an ESL teacher in San Francisco, can be as simple as a white blouse and skirt and purple neck scarf or can include a black top hat and tails, a baton or cane, a red bandanna or multicolored necklaces.

It is also common to wear makeup - painting half the face white with black around the eyes or even just dusting the face with flour. Once dressed, celebrants go to the town cemetery, where those who have ancestors there will clean the tombs of their loved ones and leave food for them in remembrance.

The spiritual adepts, the women called mambos and the men called houngans (HONE-gahn), joined by drummers and singers, will pray at a cross rising from a tomb, the symbol of Baron Samedi, summoning the spirits. And then the partying begins.

The seeming contradiction may be difficult for Americans to comprehend. The god of death, Baron Samedi nevertheless pokes fun at death and with his raunchy humor and suggestive, lewd dancing makes fun of the human passion that brings life.

A typical altar in honor of Ghede would include cigarettes; clarin, a Haitian white rum spiced with habanero peppers; a small white image of a skull; white, black and purple candles; satin fabric in the same colors; crosses; a miniature coffin; sequined bottles and a chromolithograph of St. Gerard, a saint associated with Baron Samedi. No altar would be complete without the requisite top hat and cane.

Preparing a feast
Oakland dance instructor Portsha Jefferson, whose great-grandmother was Haitian, has been celebrating the holiday for years, both at home and as part of a public gathering. She will prepare a veritable feast for her ancestors, including greens, yams, macaroni and cheese, corn bread, red beans and rice, cabbage, baked chicken and fried snapper, with sweet potato pie for their dessert.

She will begin her day by pouring a libation and offering a prayer in thanks and ask for their blessing. Her altar for Ghede will be refreshed with clarin and set with a vase of fresh flowers and a new white candle. Then she'll pack up her scandalous Ghede outfit, a black gown with silver and purple sequins that is slit on each side to midthigh, borrow the Baron's top hat and go to the community celebration, which she has been planning with partner Lee Hetelson.

It was started by the Petit la Croix dance company's Blanche Brown, who taught Haitian dance in the Bay Area for decades; Jefferson, who took it over in 2003, sends out an e-mail to adepts and dancers asking for volunteers.

"I have people set up on the day-of - decorations, constructing the altar, food preparation, hiring musicians, graphic designers for flyers, administrators for marketing," she said.

Community celebration
This year, at the Malonga Casquelourd Center in Oakland, there will be a special tribute performance for Ghede by Petit la Croix, a Ghede costume contest and a dance workshop, along with the opportunity to have fun. That was the idea, said Brown, whose company was named after a Ghede spirit known as Baron la Croix. "A long time ago I got the idea of doing a Ghede feast as a chance for drummers to play and dancers to dance," Brown said. "It got to be really popular, with people wearing Ghede's clothes."

Although it wasn't her intent, the party seemed to have a spiritual impact on participants. "I've been surprised to hear that people - after dancing- it would lighten up their spirit or help them get through whatever problem they were having at the time," she said. "Some people had stories that would make me cry."

When in Haiti ...
When native-born Turenne was visiting Haiti this time last year, preparations had been going on for weeks. At traditional worship sites, called hounfours (HOWN-for), devotees would prepare the altar with drapo (flags or cloth) in black, white and purple, lay out Ghede's attire, and soak habanero peppers in vinegar or water to later be added to clarin for the drink few but the Ghedes can bear to swallow.

"What was very important was the food that they put around the altar," Turenne said. "The fact that all the things for other gods are put away. They want to make sure that all of his needs are there for when he comes."

After the rituals are over, the party is on. Because of the expenses, from the ritual food and decorations to hiring a Vodun band, admission to some parties may cost as much as 200 American dollars. But there are still traditional parties at no charge. "Right now, people are probably looking for the next Ghede party or to find a Vodun band, called Ram, where the songs and instruments have the same elements for someone to get possessed," Turenne said.

Last year, festivities were broadcast on Haitian television. Thousands of people were in the cemeteries, the streets. Will Billot, a teacher of zydeco and Cajun music and one of the estimated 548,000 Haitian immigrants in the United States, has been here for 28 years. But he remembers crowds of 5,000 celebrating in a park.

"The details I forget," said Billot, born on Tortuga, an island off Haiti's north shore. "My parents would put food for him (Ghede) under a tree. Ghede celebration is huge in Haiti. He loves the ladies. Very loving. If you are sick, he provides (herbal) medicine."

Jefferson has visited Haiti several times but couldn't make her last trip because of the deadly hurricanes. "It's difficult for me," she said. "I was just in Gonaive seven months ago. To see (pictures of) the city submerged under water like that was difficult. The folks I know, homes destroyed, crops gone, missing relatives. Some are still missing."

Reached in Haiti, Thurgot Theodat, director of the Port-au-Prince Arts School, says the impact of the hurricanes on the Haitian economy "means things won't be the same." There are about 800 confirmed dead, more than 300 unaccounted for and as many as 1 million left homeless by storms and the ensuing flooding.

So will there be a celebration for Ghede this year? Yes, Theodat said. "In Haiti, no matter what, they will celebrate."


Ghede gathering
2-6 p.m. Sunday. Malonga Casquelourd Center, 1428 Alice St., Studio A, Oakland. $15-$20, sliding scale.

-- 2-3:30 p.m.: Dance workshop with guest musical director Daniel Brevil of Port-au-Prince.

-- 3:30-4:45 p.m.: Ghede costume contest.

-- 3:45-4 p.m.: Petit la Croix performance.

-- 4-6 p.m.: Community potluck.

Contact Portsha Jefferson at raratoulelimen@gmail.com.

E-mail Wanda Ravernell at home@sfchronicle.com.

http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/10/29/HON113LJT5.DTL

Marc,

Ou pral lan Oakland?

Sasaye a écrit:Marc,

Ou pral lan Oakland?

mon she , mwen genyen yon lwa gran papa'm ki bam signal pou 1 nov. Lwa sa dim se Obama kap vini prezidan pi grande pisans di monde.

Joel pa kew lan loa. e bien joel 1 novembre sou fowom ayiti se loa gran papa'm la kap pale pou mwen. wait and see.

Marc,

Se pou w pare vokabilè kreyôl ou paske Gede se moun ki pale lan nen epi yo konn di betiz (mo sal).

Epi youn lan espesyalite yo se manje piman tou kri, pase l lan je yo e benyen ladan n.

Medame yo chita lan basen dlo piman wi?
Veye danje saa................

Mwen sispèk gen anpil m fèt gede lan Monreyal kounyea. Lè mwen ta p viv Monreyal pa t gen tout ayisyen sa yo.

Mak, fè atansyon aswè a tande!

Medam yo chita lan basen dlo piman wi?
Veye danje saa................

Ou kapab jwenn yon "kado anpwazonen" wi!
Twop epis konn gate manje a wi!