Sunday, May 9, 2010

I Dream of Jinn-ie





I accompanied the cub scouts on a tour of Ile de Madeline last weekend. I’ve been to the island enough times now to have a good sense of the history, and the guides assigned by the national park staff are almost always excellent. Our guide for this day was terrific. His knowledge of the island history was deep.

The guide explained that Ile de Madeleine has a protector jinn, and that for many years the Lebou people have come to the island to leave offerings, in the form of yogurt, fish and shellfish, this in exchange for the right to fish safely and successfully in the waters off the island.

Today you find ceramic shards in abundance, along with midden-like piles of broken shells. I had wrongly assumed that these were campsites, and that the broken shells were evidence of the food eaten and discarded. The guide explained that, no, these were offerings to the jinn, and after leaving the material there, people would return to find that the shellfish had been consumed and the shells/pottery broken.

Having heard Oumar cover similar ground, I now know that jinns do not like anything in metallic vessels, thus the continued use of ceramics and gourds.

In the moment, it occurs to me to meet with UCAD archaeology professor Ibrahima Thiaw to discuss his perceptions of all this. His is a very important voice.

* * *

According to traditional Lebou customs and beliefs, we co-exist on this planet with another living being, also created by God, known as jinn. We cannot see jinn, but jinn can see us. Interestingly, the relationship is mutually beneficial: they need us, and we need them. Jinn help us to understand our future – they live for many hundreds of our years – and ourselves. We provide food for jinn that they cannot obtain for themselves, such as yogurt and millet. Jinn cannot see lions, but lions can see jinns, and can prey upon jinns. Humans can help protect jinns from lions. Jinns also need a place to reside, and can make, as it were, our home their home. In some instances, a jinn may come to reside in our physical body, and in so doing create distress for us.

As Abdul explained, jinns vibrate at a different rate, much faster, thus they cannot be seen in their essential jinn form. We cannot visit their world without invitation.

The world of jinn is a civilization no less complex as our own. There are rich jinns, poor jinns, leader jinns, follower jinns, powerful jinns, and begger jinns. There are Catholic jinns, Muslim jinns, Buddhist jinns, physician jinns, mechanic jinns, and teacher jinns. There are friendly jinns, malevolent jinns, helpful jinns, and mischievous jinns. Some speak English, others Wolof, or French, or Chinese, or some combination.

Such is the Lebou view. It is a conception that is quite close to traditional cultures worldwide. An ISD parent, from India, explained that her culture shares these same beliefs. Oumar was pleased to hear this, being that he traces the Lebou culture to India. For him, it offers confirmation of the connection.

If you wish to understand the practice of Ancient Egyptian mysticism, come to West Africa.

We can interact with jinns indirectly. Some jinn are able to assume a familiar form, be it a cat, or a bird, or a person. In this way, we can have encounters and speak with jinns in this world.

Jinns who are able to change their form are called rabs. Jinns and rabs may reside in a particular location. This might be a well, a tree, or a person. Such a place is termed a tuur.

Jinns worship God, the same God of our monotheistic religions. The association of jinn with evil is an exaggeration and a caricature, no less so than the jinn who lives in a bottle and entices us with three wishes. Possession by a jinn is possible, but deserves elaboration and understanding. As is said, in the absence of information we tend to hallucinate.

We must be extremely careful in any contract made with a jinn. It is binding, and the jinn with whom you made this contract will live much longer than you. The obligations extend into the next generation/s: your grandchildren will inherit the terms of your contract.

* * *

There are jinns associated with families and whole communities. The twelve Lebou family lines of Yoff each have a rab who resides in a ceramic tuur. The vessel contains water and tree roots, which are employed to communicate directly with the rab. While I haven’t yet observed this myself, I understand that the roots are read as a sort of divination. (The tossing and reading of cowry shells is common here.)

The association of a family or community with a jinn is a binding contract, and requires the periodic expression of respect through ceremony and offerings. As Oumar explained, to violate the contract, or to ignore or forget the contact, comes with a cost. Initially, there are friendly reminders. Gradually the friendly reminders become stern admonitions, which manifest as increasingly severe physical symptoms. Be careful about entering into a contract with a jinn. While the short-term gain might be rewarding, the long-term consequence, for your great grandchildren, may be unpleasant.

Yoff has a female protector jinn, Mame N’Diare. The jinn has been with the people of Yoff for centuries now, and the history of her association with the community is rich and detailed. Earlier in the month, Almamy and I attended the annual ceremony for Mame N’Diare. Note the blog entry Mame N’Diare.

* * *

Enter now the story of a family with a very ill 17-year-old daughter. Her father explained that she had undergone a profound personality change. While once a reserved and serious child, the girl suddenly became agitated. The family took her for medical screening in Dakar, she was under a physician’s care, and was on medication, but nothing seemed to work. In addition to the physical symptoms, the daughter was able to recollect information of his family history that she should not have known. The sudden onset of physical-emotional symptoms, the failure of Western medicine to resolve the problems, along with special knowledge, led the father to consider the n’deup ceremony, and consultation with a traditional healer in Yoff.

The n’deup ceremony is commonly referred to as a trance healing, mediated by specially trained women. The aim of the n’deup is to cure a patient using traditional methods. If the cause of the distress is jinn related, the n’deup can help resolve he problem.

Well, actually, it’s not quite that simple.

Unlike the Catholic-conception of possession, the jinns are not necessarily evil, and unlikely to represent a demon or devil, though the symptoms to the patient may be very distressing, particularly for our Western sensibilities, and speaking in languages previously unknown to the patient is quite possible. Just as in the world of humans, not all jinn are nice. Imagine humans having the ability to inhabit another being. There are a lot of us with issues.

The n’deup masters of Yoff, and other Lebou communities, seek to dialogue with the jinn who has taken up residence in the patient’s body. What does the jinn want? What is required for that jinn to leave the patient’s body?

The jinn is not forced out, Exorcist-style. (While my experience at this point is minimal, I do wonder how the casting out, forcibly, of a possessing jinn might be more a reflection of the religion’s conception of jinns. The Lebou cultural perspective may be a little less authoritative. Doesn’t the world really operate this way: we see what we want to seek, despite evidence to the contrary?)

The n’deup assumes this general form, which, in the case of the patient we observed, required a four-day ceremony: BN, the identified leader of the n’deup, invites her personal rab to dialogue with the patient’s possessing jinn. BN’s rab then informs her of what is required, and the specifics of the ceremony.

The ceremony itself is a spectacle, with drumming and dancing, thick with spectators. The event is clearly a favorite for community members, particularly the kids, who punched, pinched, and admonished me for blocking their view.

The use of drums, specially-trained drummers, who employ rhythms specific to the n’deup, is prominent. The drums act as a sort of telephone line, or conduit, between this world and the world of the jinn, and invite their presence. Sacrifice is also perceived as opening a conduit with a jinn/s. The animal may be of a cow, goat, sheep, chicken. The nature – temperament and physical features -- of the animal/s to be sacrificed is also prescribed.

(Regarding the role of sacrifice, I was told that one way to contact a jinn whom you have offended is this: get a goat, speak directly into its mouth, as if you’re speaking directly to the jinn, relay your message, then immediately sacrifice the goat. The message will be received. In another example, I mused that I wanted to camp next to the tuur of the jinn of Ile de Madeleine, a particularly baobab tree, and invite a visitation, but was told that the jinn would not see me, or recognize me, without a sacrifice.)

* * *

The Lebou conception of jinn, rab, and tuur is complex, deeply rooted and highly valued. We foreigners know virtually nothing of this world; it’s not spoken about, in the same way I would not volunteer information that is deeply personal and so private. It’s not that the ideas are hidden, but they are not be bantered about over beer, along with the local soccer scores.

The world of the jinn is alive here. When you’re raised on The Exorcist, is hard to get beyond the green projectile vomit, twisting heads, and depiction of pure evil. I grew up with the American television program I Dream of Jeannie. Getting beyond our own misconceptions is perhaps the most challenging task.

I have been particularly taken by the notion that a possessing jinn is coaxed out, invited out, talked out, and not evicted, which, in the Lebou view of contracts and honoring contracts, would not be helpful.

What about the 17-year-old patent? We hear that she is much better. The father attributed the whole incident to a contract the patient’s grandfather had made with a jinn a generation before, which the family has subsequently dismissed as superstition. According to the father, who has himself lost all of his former wealth, the jinn has foreclosed, and bankruptcy is not an option.

I have, and will continue, to assume the role of participant-observer, with the aim of understanding the n’deup and all that underlies it.

Does the world of jinns have a external, objective reality? Certainly the deeply-held cultural beliefs that inform our world-views are, to us, real, and manifest as physical reality in our bodies and minds. Perhaps this is the more important point.

What lies behind or beneath our cultural categories that inform our perceptions is an entirely different question that deserves some reflection.

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