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Richard McColl

~ Journalist-Author-Hotelier-Guide in Colombia

Richard McColl

Tag Archives: black magic in colombia

Religion in Colombia, Weighing in and Respecting the Syncretism

18 Monday Feb 2013

Posted by Richard in Journalism

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ayahuasca, beliefs in colombia, black magic, black magic in colombia, candomble, mompos, mompox, reading coffee grounds, religion, religion in colombia, religious tolerance, shamans, syncretism, witchcraft, witchcraft in colombia, witchcraft in mompox, yage

Let me set the record straight from the start, I am not critical of any religion, I can appreciate religious syncretism, I can respect Catholicism, Evangelism, Buddhism, Islam, Paganism – to name just a few – and whatever the beliefs of others and I am determined to be liberal towards any religion…despite not being particularly pious myself. There was the very real fear of spontaneously bursting into flames as I stepped up into the church on the eve of my wedding. Fortunately this did not happen. So, living in Colombia and having spent years in the Americas has opened my eyes to many practices which are of great importance.

Excavating the Plaza de la Concepcion in Mompox

Excavating the Plaza de la Concepcion in Mompox

Now, having been raised in an incredibly protestant fashion, with mandatory visits to church every day and twice on Sundays for six years at one school and then on every other day and on Sundays at another establishment, perhaps by the age of 18 I had had my fill of organized religion and purposefully shirked any responsibility to this that I may have once held before having it forced from me by too much exposure. I am not going to be as petulant as to try and calculate the number of times I have attended church, let’s just say that I’ve been more than a lot.

At first in Mompós I was relatively bemused by the beliefs instilled by my manager and my mother in law, and the way, when things were not going as they wished in life, they would just as quickly go to mass as to ask the local shaman/ wise man for advice. Then there was the almost daily practice of trying to read the coffee grounds in my cup. So much so that I started to drink out of a black mug and preferred filter coffee that was harder to read as it left fewer coffee grounds. For me, these practices always resembled a way of hedging a bet and making sure that both sides such as the Catholic and Pagan were covered.

But, of course, this is the way that religion is out here. I have attended a candomble ceremony in a favela in Bahia, Brazil, I have taken ayahuasca (known as yage in Colombia) in the Peruvian Amazon, have been blessed on multiple occasions in Ecuador, attended traditional rituals in Colombia and Guatemala. In fact, there’s not a great deal I have not experienced when it comes to original aboriginal religious ceremonies. Only recently on my last trip to Cuba my wife and I were able to meet and consult a Santero.

An Elegba

An Elegba

But now, I realize this is normal. It is all a version of syncretism and a way of preserving original beliefs within a Catholic existence. Perhaps being in Mompós has made this clearer to me now, but, I feel comfortable with it. When the Ministry of Culture’s workmen were tearing up the Plaza de la Concepcion to put down adequate drains, restore and ultimately repave the square, they found an indigenous burial ground beneath. This of course makes sense since the Spanish were known to build their important places of worship on top of those that were of significance to the local population, therefore making the adaptation from paganism to Catholicism much easier.

So, when we found that we were being subjected to witchcraft in the Casa Amarilla, presumably down to envy from another business owner, due to the high flow of tourists we were receiving, and I was advised to bring in someone to bless the house and find the source of the mala vibra, I was not in the slightest bit perturbed. We just did it.

Archeological finds of pre columbian remains in Mompox

Archeological finds of pre columbian remains in Mompox

And of course, this is what we had to do. Perhaps these beliefs are not the kind I was brought up with, but, these energies affect my staff and their well-being and so I must be respectful and understand the difference. So, a local wise man came round, felt a heavy presence which led him to one of the potted bougainvillea plants outside the front door. Moving this huge ceramic piece aside, it was clear that the soil had been disturbed.

Buried just a couple of inches below was a toad with its forelegs tied together.

Black magic.

This spell was supposedly meant to destroy my business. What interested and perhaps shocked me the most was the fact that someone would rather ruin my business than place a spell that could improve their own business. It’s a kind of “we’re sinking, so you’re going to sink as well” attitude that is of benefit to no one.

Anyway, the spell was lifted, and business continued as normal.

So now, in my own show of syncretism, I am no longer skeptical when the local priest comes round to bless the house or the local wise man comes to share a word and drink a coffee with us. There’s a balance here and this must be respected. When my coffee grounds are read, I perhaps have a laugh, but am sure to be respectful and when my manager plays the lottery with the numbers she sees in the cup or with those she dreamed of the night before, one has to wonder about the energies at play. Maybe one day she’ll win the lottery and who’ll be scoffing then?

Gamarra and the Press-Gang

09 Saturday Jun 2012

Posted by Richard in Journalism

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black magic in colombia, black magic witches in colombia, cesar colombia, colombia, conscription in colombia, conscripts, gamarra, joinin the army in colombia, magdalena river, military conscription, press gang in colombia, press-gang, travel in colombia

Seated around the plastic tables on a slightly raised section of patio our feet remained dry. Dona Alba served us our food, prepared hastily in the back, and then came  back to check on my father in law. His demeanor had changed instantly to one of contentment as we turned off the highway and started down the 12km track of rutted secondary road from Aguachica to get to Gamarra, his hometown.

I could tell immediately that his confidence increased and there was a certain amount of pride brimming that he should be returning here to Gamarra, albeit for a night, with his youngest daughter and her husband. Incidentally my wife had not visited this town in 24 years.

Not to speak ill of Gamarra (certainly not Gomorrah), but, one must recognize its place in the department of Cesar and indeed in Colombia. This is prime land for cultivation, rich in alluvial sediment, ideal for huge crops of African Palm, bananas, other inevitable cash crops and with large deposits of oil and gas beneath the earth’s crust. It is geographically important as well.

Gamarra is also situated on the banks of the Magdalena River, the mighty fluvial thoroughfare that served as the indigenous people’s highway in pre-Hispanic times, and for Bolivar on his mission to liberate northern South America, even deep into the Republican era the river played an important role. Now, river transport has ebbed and the towns that thrived along its banks have seen their affluence and importance wane.

Gamarra is more recognized for two things: the first being a major point for the transshipment of cocaine out of the region across the country. On one side we are in Cesar and on the other side of the river we are in Antioquia. There has been violence here in the past and given the number of soldiers and policemen stationed along this way, you can assume that there is still aggression.

And secondly, and much more folkloric, Gamarra is known for having the highest number of black magic witches in Colombia.

Herein lays one of the key issues for which my mother in law never wanted my wife to return to Gamarra to visit. Should one of the witches have spotted my wife, and taken offense at her beauty, they could have cast a spell. My mother in law believes this, as does my father in law and so my wife has grown up alongside such beliefs. I hasten not to call this superstition, because in my mind, if everyone is on board, then the energy of this belief coming from so many people has to count for something? No?

So, my father in law’s mood had changed. He was happy to show us his town. People knew him. Shop owners asked after his father (longtime resident now hospitalized in Bucaramanga), chairs were proffered in haste when we decided to enjoy a cold beer in the local tavern. Introductions were hastily made.

It was there as we sat enjoying the cool breeze that followed the rainstorm when the Colombian military swung into the main plaza. They pulled their truck up and parked across the road from us. Soldiers alighted and lined the corners dutifully.

Saturday night and most young men and boys in Gamarra were out on their waspish motorcycles, zipping from bar to bar, girlfriend riding pillion. And when they approached the plaza, they were all stopped.

Initially searched and then made to dismount, these boys were asked for their military service carnet. Some were able to show that they were in education, others had wormed out of mandatory conscription in some way or another, but a few had no paperwork.

Parents arrived with an alacrity unknown and unseen on any given day in a Colombian small town. Cell phones were out, signals jammed across the starry night sky as favours were called in and shady negotiations came into play. To a certain extent this was successful as some of the likely lads were then released from custody in the back of the military transport and permitted to go home.

Others weren’t so fortunate.

They had been press-ganged.

Immediately I recalled history lessons at school about drunk locals in port towns in England waking up on board ships bound for who knows where…but this practice is surely history now?

Talking to Dona Alba and others nearby, hushed of course so as not to attract attention, I was able to fathom that this happened relatively routinely in all towns and cities across the country. In fact I had seen this in the Candelaria in Bogota. The military would be sent out to check all documents for young men of a certain age and if the paperwork did not add up, then they were conscripted. Of course, bribes could be paid. In this particular region the going rate for paying your way out of military service would be in the region of $3,000,000.00 pesos (US$1,700).

You’ll admit this is a great deal of money for a low income rural family.

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