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Tonight’s episode is going to be a little different than usual. No news stories, Q&A, or any of that. I just want to take some time to share with you some of what I’ve been up to since the last podcast.
The first thing I’m going to share with you is my experience cooking egusi soup this past weekend.
As I think I’ve mentioned on an earlier podcast episode, it was one of my favorite meals at a local african restaurant before the business closed. It’s a pretty common dish in Nigeria and it’s a meal that definitely feels like “Africa” for me.
Since it doesn’t seem like there’s going to be any more places around for me to get authentic west african cooking, it’s time for me to cook it myself.
There isn’t exactly a large amount of Nigerian-influence in the area, but there’s at least enough to have an african grocery nearby in Tampa.
I dropped by there last Friday to pick up some supplies for the weekend.
Whether latin, asian, or african, it’s always a bit surreal when I go into an ethnic grocery store. There’s always that out-of-place feeling of being an outsider, but maybe that’s part of why it’s important for me to go every so often — to get out of my normal comfort-zone a bit.
Despite a few strange looks and glances I got from other customers there, I was greeted warmly by the owner of the store. He remembered me from when I shopped there a few months ago. We talked a bit about various dishes and he showed me some groundnut soup that he had left over from the night before. I’ll probably try making that one myself sometime, too.
Next we discussed a bit about other business ventures he was interested in getting into. One idea he had been tossing around was about starting up a restaurant. Nice! Even if that happens, it’s not going to be for a while. Until then, I need to focus on learning how to make some meals for myself.
My first stop was the store’s freezer. For only a few bucks, I was able to pick up a little over a pound of goat meat. It still had the skin on it, but I figured that would make things more interesting. Next, I bought a package of grounded egusi seeds and a box fufu flour. The rest of the stuff I needed for the stew, I was pretty sure I could get elsewhere, if I didn’t already have it at home.
The cleaning of the meat was at the same time fun and disgusting. Usually, I don’t even like touching boneless skinless chicken breasts from the grocery store, but here I was tearing off chunks of goat meat from the skin and tossing it into a pot. Weird, right? It was actually pretty enjoyable, until I got to pieces with lots of bone and very little meat. I tried to get at it with my knife, but I eventually gave up. It was too much hassle, so most of those pieces went to Eshu.
After I had the meat cooked and the egusi, palm oil, bitter leaf, and everything added in together with it, it looked great. It was probably a little thicker than I would’ve liked, but not too bad.
The fufu, well, I think I’m going to need some more practice making that. I wasn’t able to get the consistency the way would have liked, but it was manageable. Also, even though it was a pretty neutral taste, it still tasted different from what I had remembered.
Typically, fufu is made from pounded yam. What I had accidentally bought instead was called cocoyam. It’s made from the tubers of the Elephant’s Ear plant, or at least that’s what the package said. To be honest, it wasn’t bad — I just would have preferred yam.
I’m sure you’re wondering by now why am I telling you all about my dinner. Well, aside from being tasty, it really helped me get back in the mindset of the religion — in some weird way. Making something like that by hand, seeing the pieces of goat that are only one or two steps removed from the butcher shop, it really helps put things into perspective.
It isn’t just food that makes me feel closer to the religion’s African roots, though…
For a while, I’ve been interested in the Lukumi language. I hate not knowing how to pronounce things or just having to try to remember what I’ve been told a song is about or whatever. I’d love to know enough of the language to be able to pick out enough bits and pieces to make sense of that stuff on my own.
Realistically, I know I’ll never be able to have a conversation in Lukumi. Heck, I’d be lucky if I could make it through a conversation in Spanish! It’s just always been something on my list of things I’d like to try learning more of someday.
The language isn’t popular enough to be available as a night-school course at the local Junior College or anything like that. If I wanted to learn it in an academic setting, the best I could find was a program at one of the colleges in Miami. Online, there are plenty of websites claiming to be able to teach the language. Others try to sell out-dated language software from the early 90′s or it’s stuff geared towards children. I wish someone credible like Rosetta Stone or even Pimsleur would offer something, but I guess it just comes down to demand.
More and more people in Yorubaland seem to be casting aside their native tongue in favor of English. At least that’s the way it seems, judging from all of the websites and articles I found while I was researching. I don’t have statistics, percentages, or any scientific numbers on-hand to share with you, but it seems like all over Africa, it’s essentially the same story…
Each generation has been putting more and more emphasis on education as a way of setting their children and future generations up for success. The cost of this is parents are raising Yoruba-born children whose primary language is English. This makes it easier when they send them off to schools. I can definitely understand the logic, but I can’t help but wonder how much of a toll that puts on them from a cultural standpoint.
Even trying to learn the language from those who still speak it wouldn’t necessarily mean I would be able to understand the songs and prayers within the religion. For many of the words we know by being in this religion, most modern Yoruba would probably say that you talk like their grandparents. Languages evolve and change over time.
If today’s generation of practitioners don’t bother learning the meaning of words and just parrot back the songs and prayers they hear their elders sing, how long until the language truly does become lost?
When I first got involved in this religion, there were many aspects of it that I thought, “That can’t be right!” I wanted to do things properly.
In Lukumi, the typical greeting is for one person to say “Bendicion” while a priest responds with “Santo”. In this, you’re asking for blessings and the person responds with “Saint”, which is short for — what? — asking their orisha to give their blessing? At one point, I did stumble upon a greeting that was supposedly more traditional. To be honest, though, I could never remember it. Besides, how many people would actually know how to respond to it?
To some degree, I can understand the frustrations that the traditionalists have with modern Lukumi practices.
They are simply two branches of the same tree, though. They both evolved in different ways and at different speeds based on changes and pressures within their own cultures. No one should view one as wrong and the other right. Even if you look back to the early days of the religion, I’m sure there were villages that practiced things slightly different — just like today’s houses have their own subtle — and not-so-subtle — differences. It would be great if everyone could just view things in the terms of it being the same religion but from a different village.
Realistically, the “Us” vs “Them” thing is probably never going to end.
To some extent, I wonder how much of this comes from altruistically wanting to keep their old practices alive and how much is motivated purely from a financial perspective. After all, if you convince someone that what they were taught was wrong and that they hadn’t actually been crowned, received certain orishas, etc., you can make lots of money helping them make that happen “the right way.”
It just comes down to what you’re comfortable with and which practices feel right for you. If you’re sincere, I honestly doubt it makes a whole lot of difference either way…
Understanding more about the Yoruba culture, food, and language are all important parts of the religion to me. Just like learning about your grandparents or great-grandparents can help you get a better perspective about yourself and your own situation in life, these things are a valuable part of appreciating the religion and its roots.
Whether you’re a traditional practitioner or Lukumi, these are roots we all share.
With the new year steadily approaching, one of your goals for 2011 should be to learn a bit more about the religion and where it comes from. I’m not talking about reading some boring introduction page on Wikipedia. Actually put some effort into it.
For those who give this a try, feel free to share your experiences with me. I’d love to hear about it.
Also, I recently found out that Rosetta Stone has a language program specifically geared towards dialects that are being forgotten or are at risk of dying out. Their Endangered Language Program has had a lot of success with many of the Native American languages. Just as these groups have recognized the importance of their native language to their culture, the same holds true for you or I.
The Yoruba language and especially the Lukumi dialect is something that you should consider part of your culture as well. I’ll post a link in the transcript for this podcast for you, but if you go to RosettaStone.com, there’s a form you can fill out to suggest a language you’d like them to add. It’s pretty easy to do. You can also send your suggestion to them via twitter — @RosettaStone.
I hope you’ll help out with the cause.
Until next time, everyone….
Maferefún eggun.
Maferefún orisha.
