Childhood Influences - Part 2 (Possessions)

"Waking Up Possessed" by Nikita Krivoshey

POSSESSION

The presence of mysticism and music was common to my neighborhood in Havana, which was home to numerous Santeria priests who organized drumming ceremonies all year round. Children were encouraged to attend these ceremonies and I rarely missed one. During these ceremonies, food, dance, rum, and songs were treated as offerings to honor the dead and the gods, while a small ensemble of ceremonial drum players slammed their hands tirelessly through a series of religious rhythms and chants. I remember feeling my ribcage vibrate with the resonance of each melodic slap that bounced off the drums and into the people who became possessed. Possessions were my favorite part of ceremonies; although sometimes they made me a little nervous. Regardless of what spectators believed was happening, it was difficult not to stand in awe at the sight of a simple old lady lifting someone twice her size over her head and shake them like a ragdoll several times before lowering them down. I attended numerous santería ceremonies in my childhood and I remember thinking possessions were the coolest thing ever. When I got the idea for Lady Alhambra, I knew it wouldn’t be complete without supernatural intervention.

In Lady, the main character, Nila, becomes possessed by a series of supernatural beings during a self-imposed trance while conjuring her mother’s spirit. The possession scene in Lady is meant to mimic the sequence, dynamic and intensity of a “real” possession with an artistic license, and respect for Santería. To serve the story, Nila performs a short ritual to establish her dressing room as a sacred space by performing (an edited version of) a prayer in Yoruban language; as would be the case in a real ceremony. Then, she performs an Afro-Cuban inspired dance that puts her in a state of trance; a practical substitute for ceremonial drumming. Finally, when she is possessed, she takes on three separate physical forms and voices to portray the existence of supernatural beings channeling through her body; as would be the case in a “real” possession. Performing the elements of a possession was an intense experience for me because, in many ways Nila is the child-soul I left in Cuba, incubating inside a mythical realm where I grew up to become a woman very much like my childhood idea of her, if my family had not immigrated to the United States in 1998. Each time I performed Lady I enacted my version of a self-imposed possession. Here’s an excerpt from the play: 

[This marks the beginning of the ritual to establish the entire stage as a sacred space.]

Nila:

omi tuto, (fresh water) [rings bell over the table on a single point]

ona tuto, (fresh path) [rings bell over the table in circular motion]

ile tuto, (fresh soil) [lowers bell to ring directly over the floor]

owo tuto, (fresh reason) [rings bell directly over and around head] [replace bell on table]

tuto nini, (fresh hands) [dip fingers inside bowl and rub hands like washing]

[Raise to standing position and walk towards the sofa-chair, the water bowl on one hand and using the other to dip fingers in it and spray the sofa-chair/skirt while making a rotation around it.]

Nila (continue):

omi fun egun, (water for the deceased) [spray] omi fun ile, (water for the soil) [spray] omi fun gbogbo, (water for the sun) [spray]

At the end of one rotation, Nila walks back to the table and sets the bowl back on the table.