Peter EspeutIS IT a paradox that the country with the greatest number of Christian churches per square mile also is possessed of one of the highest levels of pagan superstition? I do not believe that Christianity in Jamaica goes very deep. Scratch the surface and you will find all sorts of beliefs and practices which are not just non-Christian but anti-Christian! Which could lead to the conclusion that true Christianity is yet to take deep root in Jamaican soil.
In 1987, I lived in a deep rural community in the foothills of the John Crow mountains of St. Thomas doing field research for my Masters' degree in rural development. One morning, I awoke to a great commotion. During the night, thieves had stolen lumber stored under the house of a very vocal lady, and she paraded from the square to her home denouncing the vagabonds at the top of her voice, declaring she was going straight away to the nearest obeahman to "damage" them. Shortly after, with her purse under her arm, she marched out of the district, returning in the evening with a determined smile on her face. The next morning when we awoke, the lumber was back in its place.
In this Christian country, obeahmen still do rather well, and not just from the unlettered. Expensive cars are often parked outside the balmyards, and there is a reported increase in the number of Pajeros around election time. One of today's biggest obeahmen is "Embassy", in St. Mary. Some obeahmen are general practitioners and some are specialists; Embassy is a specialist in helping his clients obtain visas, and he is well patronised. He lives quite far up a hill, and his patrons support three or four motorbikemen who ferry them up and down. Once, I gave a lift to someone who had just come down from the mountain, and I asked her about Embassy. "Is he an obeahman?", I asked. "No", she replied sheepishly, and giggled, "But him can help you".
Recently, a pastor publicly complained that his collection was declining due to payments made to obeahmen by members of his congregation. Where people put their money is indeed an indicator of where they believe real power lies. And in these days when people feel powerless and overcome by the vicissitudes of life, many turn to spiritualists, ouiji-mediums, clairvoyants, tarot card-readers and obeahmen to try to regain control of their lives, and to force others to conform to their game plan.
Even in the twenty-first century, there are reports of mouth-padlocked bullfrogs appearing in courthouses, causing witnesses to run away in terror. You can still buy "oil of love-me-long" or "oil of no-turn-back" as well as a lot of other things in dimly lit shops downtown. Schoolchildren wear rings or caps or threadbags around their necks as "guards", no matter what the uniform code, and almost every vendor in every market begins the day by washing down their stall with cut green limes to chase away evil spirits and to ensure good sales. Pregnant women are still led through pumpkin patches with their index fingers firmly un-pointing. Tell me which building in Jamaica from New Kingston skyscraper to holy church did not begin construction with the sprinkled blood of a sacrificed chicken, and a libation of white rum to the gods?
A little more respectable, though just as occult, is the practice of astrology. Farmers still plant and set fowls based on McDonald's Almanac (from Binghamton, New York, with winter snows). Many will not leave home until they have read or heard today's horoscope, based on the premise that the stars under which one is born determine one's character and fortune and future. The fact that nowhere in Christianity is it taught that God defines us in groups in this way, does not seem to bother many Christians who attend church with their astrological signs hanging around their necks or wrists. When people ask me what sign I am born under, I reply "the sign of the cross".
I have heard the Bible quoted as evidence for belief in dreams. For at least 100 years, Jamaicans have associated numbers with dreams, and modern lottery operators have used this to enrich themselves, as well as to reinforce superstition. Jamaican folk numerology is based on 36 numbers, each of which, it is said, has 36 meanings, but in my research I have never found anyone who knew all 36 meanings of any number. This keeps the system going, for when a person dreams of "a belly-woman", and the number eight does not win, this can be blamed on lack of information about some other number, or that it really means that someone is going to get pregnant.
Possibly the introduction of a so-called "drop-han" game with 100 numbers, will begin to break down these superstitions, for there are no dream-associations with numbers 37 upwards; or the superstitions may be deepened by creating new dream-associations. In traditional drop-pan with one draw per round, each gambler has a one-in-thirty-six (2.78 per cent) chance of winning; in the new game with three draws, (with replacement) each gambler has a three-in-100 chance of winning (3.00 per cent). Even with slightly better odds, it is going to be hard to overcome deep-seated Jamaican numerological traditions and superstitions.
Superstition runs deep in Jamaica, among all classes and races. (The groom must not see the wedding dress before the ceremony, and must not look back at his bride coming up the aisle, otherwise the marriage will not last). Neither higher education nor the Christian church has been able to minimise it. Mental slavery grips us in so many areas of life even before economics and politics hit us.
I think we will be better off if we eradicate from our psyches superstitions that govern our behaviour. Even if we are not Christian, we should still wish to erase anything irrational that unnecessarily constrains our actions. Let us seek to rise or fall on our own efforts and hard work, and not blame our success or failure on the stars, or that "someone obeah me". I look for Jamaica, one day, to enter the modern world!
Peter Espeut is a Sociologist and Executive Director of an Environment and Development NGO.
