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Erzulie’s Skirt
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Erzulie’s Skirt Ana-Maurine Lara
WASHINGTON, DC
www.redbonepress.com
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Erzulie’s Skirt Copyright © 2006 by Ana-Maurine Lara Published by: RedBone Press P.O. Box 15571 Washington, DC 20003 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of reviews.
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First edition Cover art copyright © 2006 by Wura-Natasha Ogunji Cover design by E.M. Corbin Printed in the United States of America ISBN-13: 978-0-9786251-0-8 ISBN-10: 0-9786251-0-2 www.redbonepress.com
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This story is dedicated to the thousands of people who embark on the journey between the islands and the mainland: regardless of the final resting place for our bones, the waters will always carry our spirits.
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Acknowledgments
I extend my deepest thanks to Lisa C. Moore, who with laughter and brilliance brought this novel into fruition. This vision and fulfilled possibility would not have manifested without the encouragement and loving critique of my fellow writers and strong women Tisa Bryant, Lisa Weiner-Mahfuz, and Luisa Rondon-Lassen; without the encouragement of Yoseñio Lewis, Hsin I Liu, Tymika Mines and Holly Anderson. And definitely without the love, encouragement, carefully prepared meals and hugs of Wura-Natasha Ogunji—my partner in all of life’s secret glories. Getting this novel from idea to completion would not have been possible without the powerful support of the VONA/VOICES writers’ workshop participants and fearless leader Gail Tsukiyama. Their critiques and careful reading of the work brought me to a deeper understanding of the writing process. Thanks to Judy Gex for her meticulous editing. It also would not have been possible to know where to go had I not been awakened to the publishing process by the Latina publishing guru Marcela Landres. Thank you. And every writer should have a room of her own, but also the support to get away and retreat from the world. I would not have been able to do this without the gifts of Sonia and Steve Raymund, the intellectual support and very real space provided by my parents, Elizabeth and Erasmo Lara, and the generosity of Lisbeth Melendez-Rivera. Because of you I was able to do this. I also have to thank Liety Acevedo, who when I first thought of this “crazy” novel idea suggested I actually sit down and write it. And if VictorJose Santana hadn’t been there to make me laugh at myself, perhaps I would have never actually tried. I also can’t forget my ancestors. Their spirit lives on through me, and I hope that in this initial humble offering, I have given something back to them. Maferefun Changó, Yemaya and Ogun. Axé.
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Mapa
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Contents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .x
Introduction
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xiii
Chapter 1: Miriam
El Sur, Dominican Republic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .1
Chapter 2: Micaela
San Cristobal, Dominican Republic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .47
Chapter 3: Miriam and Micaela
La Capital, Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic . . . . . . . . .95
Chapter 4: Micaela and Miriam
La Capital, Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic . . . . . . . .107
Chapter 5: Micaela, Miriam and Erzulie
The Caribbean Sea . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
Chapter 6: Micaela and Miriam
Puerto Rico . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169
Chapter 7: Micaela, Miriam and Yealidad
El Sur, Dominican Republic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .195
Chapter 8: Yealidad, Miriam and Micaela
El Sur, Dominican Republic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .225
Reference Notes Glossary
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .245
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .249
About the Author . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
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“No es posible contar los muertos de una manera confiable, aunque se cuentan por lo menos en centenares todos los años.” ~Diario Libre (report on small boat crossings between the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico), November 3, 2003
Ersulie nain nain oh! Ersulie nain nain oh! Ersulie ya gaga gaza. La roseé fait brodè tou temps soleil par lévé. La roseé fait brodè tou temps soleil par lévé. Ersulie nain nain oh! Ersulie nain nain oh! Ersulie ya gaza. ~from Z.N. Hurston’s Tell My Horse
“Time is growing,” he added. “And our suffering is growing too. When will our suffering bear fruit? One great thought can alter the future of the world. One revelation. One dream. But who will dream that dream? And who will make it real?” ~Ben Okri, Infinite Riches
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Introduction
It is a sleepy morning in the Atlantic Ocean. The sun has yet to rise. The ocean lies relatively still, small waves dancing across the surface. Looking down from the sky’s great heights, one would see down to infinite depths, a velvety sapphire blue laced with crystal, prismic waves. Fishermen push their boats out from the shores, mumbling prayers as they enter the water. Agwe, the great spirit of the ocean’s depths, stirs amongst the corals. Erzulie, the great goddess of the sweet waters and the ocean’s waves, awakens. As a breeze begins to stir in the brightening light of the morning, the two spirits take breath. The ocean roars.
Agwe: Ay! Aaiiiee! Erzulie (yawn): Brrrr... Agwe: Good morning, my sirène. Erzulie: Good morning, Agwe, great spirit of the ocean’s depths. Agwe: How are the fishermen? Erzulie: Good. How are the fish? Agwe: Swimming.
The ocean gently pulls the boats into its embrace. The fishermen row out from the shallows into the curve of the horizon. One fisherman calls out a song. The others respond in chorus. They set down their oars and cast their nets. The sinewy chords sink into the blue.
Agwe: Ehh... My bones... Erzulie: Why do you complain, old man? Agwe: My bones hurt. Erzulie: It must be growing pains. Agwe: I suppose. Erzulie: It is sad and happy you are growing. Agwe: Sad and happy—those are feelings. You tell me you know what these are? Erzulie: Yes—I know what these are. Sad, like when so many people die. Happy, like when they are at peace again. Agwe: Hmm. I don’t know about all of that. I just know my bones hurt. Erzulie: Your bones, your bones! You should try dancing!
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Agwe: You should try being down here, in this cold with this many spirits walking through you. Erzulie (sucking her teeth): Eh—you think that’s bad? I have to hold them all the way down. That tires me out sometimes. Agwe: Hmm. Erzulie: Hmm? Why do you say hmm, old man? Agwe: (yawn) The sands thunder through the corals. Erzulie laughs.
Erzulie: That tickles! Agwe stills.
Agwe: They are lonely down here. They don’t see each other, but I see all of them. They just wander about. And just this morning, I received another set of arrivals. Erzulie: I know you did! I brought them, remember? Agwe: It’s no cause to be joyful, Erzulie. Erzulie: Eh—I am not joyful! You think I do so much work to help these heads be born only to have them back so soon? Agwe: No. Erzulie: No. That’s right. Agwe: But that is the way, my sirène. Erzulie: It breaks my heart sometimes. Agwe: Some lights shine, others dim. And then there are these spirits walking through my bones. Erzulie: At least they bring you fruits and flowers. I just get pictures of mermaids. Agwe: That is not true. You have so many husbands and wives I don’t know how you manage. Erzulie laughs. Waves twirl in the first rays of sun.
Erzulie: My arms reach far and wide—far and wide! Agwe: Yes, that is true. (Sigh)
As the sun fully enters the sky, the water shines emerald blue and green. The fishermen lie quietly in their boats, their nets cast,
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waiting for the sun to rise a little higher. The river deltas flood with sweet water as the ocean swells up with low tide. Agwe holds his breath.
Agwe: So tell me a story for today, sirène. Erzulie: You know the story as well as I do. Agwe: I suppose. I was hoping it would be different. Erzulie: Well, maybe it is. Agwe: You intrigue me. I see why they love you. Erzulie (laughs coquettishly): What if I gave you their names? Would that satisfy your curiosity? Agwe: It would begin to. Erzulie: Well, there’s Miriam and her two parents. They don’t know she’s on her way. They’re still very sad from... well... Agwe: Yes, I remember that time. Erzulie: Well, Changó’s got plans for her. You know how he is.
The sky fills with thunder and lightning. The fishermen look up from the water. One man points a finger at the sky. He pulls two stones out of his pocket and wraps them together with netting. The sky quiets. Erzulie: Eh, Changó! Ayibobo! Agwe laughs.
Erzulie: And then there’s Micaela. Just like her name sake—I had to fight with Ogun for her. She can’t decide where to stay, where to go. You’ll see her walking back and forth with me across the water. Agwe: Oh—one of those. Erzulie: Hey, we need people like that, you know. Otherwise, they forget. They forget about you, me, everything and everyone. Agwe: I know. I hear her and her father right now. He’s a great man. Erzulie: Yes. But it is the women she comes from. There’s her, her mother, her grandmother, her great-grandmother, her greatgreat-grandmother, her great-great-great grandmother... Agwe: I get it.
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Erzulie: Yes, well, good. Besides them, there are many people. Agwe: Many people? Erzulie: Yes, many people. Nice people, mean people. You know. Other people who will love me, marry me, give me fruits, flowers, cigarettes and beer, perfume and all those good things. Agwe: And they are in today’s story. Erzulie: Of course! Agwe: I see. Erzulie: Don’t worry. They give you lots of nice things, too. Agwe: Well, it seems to me they are dancing with everyone else. They don’t even talk about me. Erzulie: Shhh. That’s because they must all dance with you in the end, my sweet old man. Agwe: Yes, I know. Aiieee—my bones. Erzulie: Well, besides Miriam and Micaela and all those people, there’s Yealidad. She’s going to be Anaísa’s daughter. Agwe: I see you like that. Erzulie: Of course! Anyone who comes from water is alright with me. Agwe: All of us come from water. Erzulie: Shh! Agwe: I am getting tired here, Erzulie. Just tell me the story. Erzulie: Fine, then. I will.
The day is full of light. The fishermen begin to slowly pull their nets in. Fish glisten through the clumps of seaweed. The men head back to the shores.
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ERZULIE’S SKIRT
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