TRINIDAD AND
TOBAGO FOLKLORE
January 1, 2000
Pages 23, 24
Our
folklore is predominantly of African origin, flavoured with
French and to a lesser degree, Spanish and English influences.
In
keeping with well-recognised African traits, the picture is full of colour and
decorated with a wealth of detail.
Religious or semi-religious cults of African origin have undoubtedly
contributed much to the island’s folklore; many of the supernatural folklore
figures possess characteristics, which are identical with those of African
deities. Indeed, it is extremely
difficult to draw a dividing line between the strictly religious elements and
what may be described as ‘legendary traditions’.
‘Papa
Bois’ is
the most widely known of all our folklore characters. He is the old man of the forest and is known by many names,
including ‘Maitre bois’ (master of the woods) and ‘Daddy Bouchon’ (hairy man).
Papa
Bois appears in many different forms, sometimes as a deer, sometimes hairy and
though very old, extremely strong and muscular, with cloven hoofs and leaves
growing out of his beard. As the
guardian of the animals and the custodian of the trees, he is known to sound a
cow’s horn to warn his friends of the approach of hunters. He doesn’t tolerate killing for killing’s
sake, and the wanton destruction of the forest.
Sometimes
he turns into a deer that would lead the men into the deep forest. Then he would suddenly resume his true
shape, to issue a stern warning and then to vanish, leaving the hunters lost or
perhaps compelling them to pay a fine of some sort, such as to marry ‘Mama
Dlo’.
If
you should meet with Papa Bois be very polite.
“Bon jour, vieux papa” or “Bon matin, maitre” should be your
greeting. If he pauses to pass the time
with you, stay cool and do not look at his feet.
‘La
Diablesse’,
the devil woman of Trinidad and Tobago folklore, is sometimes personified as an
old crone, who steps forth with her cloven hoof from behind a tree on a lonely
road, the sound of chains mingling with the rustle of her petticoat.
La
Diablesse appears as a tall, handsome Creole woman who with swinging gait and
erect stature, passes through a cane or cocoa field at noon and catches the eye
of a man who then proceeds to follow her, and, never being able to catch up
with her – her feet hardly touch the ground – finds himself lost, bewildered,
far from home and he is never himself again.
She
may have a bag of bones, graveyard dirt and shells, she may cast a spell and be
perceived as young and desirable, her rich perfume blending with the smell of
damp and decaying things. Although she
may appear young, she will be dressed in the ancient costume of these islands:
a brilliant madras turban, chemise with half sleeves and much embroidery and
lace, ‘zepingue tremblant’ (trembling pins of gold), and all the finery of
by-gone days.
If
you feel you may encounter a La Diablesse on your way home, take off all your
clothes, turn them inside out and put them on again, and this will surely protect
you from a La Diablesse.
‘Mama
Dlo’, whose name is derived from the French ‘maman de l’eau’ which means
‘mother of the water’ is one of the lesser known personalities of Trinidad and
Tobago folklore.
A
hideous creature, Mama Dlo’s lower half takes the form of an anaconda. She is sometimes thought to be the lover of
Papa Bois. Hunters tell of hearing a
loud, cracking sound which is said to be the sound made by her tail as she
snaps it on the surface of a mountain pool or a still lagoon.
Mortal
men who commit crimes against the forest, like burning down trees or
indiscriminately putting animals to death or fouling the rivers, could find
themselves married to her for life, both this one and the one to follow.
Sometimes
she takes the form of a beautiful woman singing silent songs on still
afternoons, sitting at the water’s edge in the sunlight, lingering for a golden
moment, a slash of green – gone!
If
you were to meet Mama Dlo in the forest and wish to escape her, take off your
left shoe, turn it upside down and immediately leave the scene, walking
backwards until you reach home.
‘The
Soucouyant’ – “A ball of flame, along she came flying without a wind” was
how the Soucouyant of Saut D’Eau Island was described.
The
old woman lives alone at the end of the village road, seldom seen, her house
always closed up as she sleeps away the day.
As evening draws near, she stirs and sheds her old and wrinkled skin,
which she deposits in a mortar. Now, as
a glowing ball of flame, she rises up through the roof, and with a shrill cry
she flies through the night in search of a victim, and she would suck his
‘life-blood’ from him clean.
As
the blessed day dawns, she makes a beeline through the forest for her home,
finds the mortar with her wretched skin and proceeds to put it on, - but
something is wrong, it burns like fire, it seems to shrink and slide away,
“Skin, kin, kin, you na no me, you na no me”, she croons softly, pleading to
the wrinkled thing.
Then,
with horror, she realises the dreadful thing that has been done: the village
boys and men have filled her skin with coarse salt and pepper and will soon
come and get her, with a drum of boiling tar, the priest and his silver cross,
the church bells – and then, the end.
If
you wish to discover who is the Soucouyant in your village, empty 100 lbs of
rice at the village crossroads where she will be compelled to pick them up, one
grain at a time – that is how you’ll know the Soucouyant.
‘Duennes’
are spirits of children who died before they were baptized.
They are fated to roam the forests of Trinidad, practicing their wide repertoire of pranks, mostly on living children who are enticed away into the forest and are then left abandoned.
Duennes
are sexless, their feet are turned backwards and they have no faces (although
they do have small round mouths). On their rather large heads they wear huge
mushroom-shaped straw hats.
To
prevent the Duennes from calling your children into the forest at dusk, never
shout their names in open places, as the Duennes will take their names, call
them and lure them away.
A
story is told of a man called Lastique who was riding home one night. As he
passed the big silk cotton tree at the corner of Belmont Circular Road and the
Savannah, he heard a baby crying, so he stopped and picked it up, thinking he
would take it home for the night and carry it to the orphanage in the morning.
Cycling
along, he was reduced to a state of absolute terror by the time he reached the
hospital, when he realised that the child was getting bigger and heavier. Suddenly the child said in a man’s voice,
“You’d better take me back where you found me”, which the terrified Lastique
did at once. As he drew nearer the
tree, the ‘child’ shrank steadily back to its original size and was deposited,
once more, a bawling baby at the foot of the giant tree. The moon, a silent witness, hid its face in
a cloud as a chill wind blew and an owl flew out of the tree.
The
‘Ligahoo’
or ‘Loup Garou’ is the shape-changer of Trinidad’s folklore.
An ability which is handed down in some old Creole families, this phenomenon is usually associated with an old magic-dealing man of a district who is both feared and respected, not only for his facility to change his form to that of a vicious animal, but also for his power over nature. He can lay curses and extend protection; from him, charms and bush medicine are also readily available.
At times
the Ligahoo may take the form of a coffin being carried through the streets and
the clank of chains is distinctly heard.
A single
man may bear it on his head, protected by a giant ‘phantome’. If by chance, the coffin and its gruesome
attendant were to be used to facilitate the uninterrupted transportation of
bush rum, this effect would virtually ensure its safe passage.
If you
want to see a Ligahoo and not be seen by it, take some yampee from the corner
of a dog’s eye, put it in your eye and peep out of a key hole at 12 midnight.