JO – Lion Heart

If you compare a set of holidays in the calendar of European and African peoples, then the difference will be about the same as between a poor breakfast of the poor man and a fellow table of the oligarch. I happened to watch many celebrations on the Black Continent, but the most dick turned out to be what I saw in the village of Saoy nearby from the city of Abidjan in Côte d’Ivoire.

In the language of Akan word "dipria" means at the same time "holiday", "Celebration" and "joy". In each forest village there is a dipric and it is very important to choose for him the appropriate time. "Holiday, like a fruit, is sweet when it matures", — African friends told me with a characteristic figurative edification. And, Posurovyev, added: "Holiday is not by time – hunger hunger".

It is necessary to think, time for the holiday of invulnerability in Saoy was chosen absolutely accurately (mid-May), since food and especially drinks were injected. Enough enough, and many gathered many: not only from the surrounding villages – from Abidjan himself. Usually dipri drives under the Christian Holiday of Ascension, so that fans of exotic from foreign countries could be present on it. This time there were a lot of them too. I think in your expectations they did not deceive.

The festival of invulnerability is one of the favorite abidzhi residents, which is part of the larger tribal association Akan. Participants of this old Gulbec must demonstrate how great their spiritual potential is great, and thereby intimidate evil spirits, forcing them in a panic to flee from the village. In the name of this, to each resident of Saoy to make an act, implementing one of the commandments of ancestors, which stack: "Human life is his actions".

As it turned out, the most important act was to commit my kind familiar – authoritative and ambitious Magu Jo de Lyon. On the eve, he announced his intention in front of the honorable assembly to cut off the most expensive, what makes a man man – a childbody. And then return it to the original place, in order to demonstrate their invulnerability and magical power.

"The big man and the great things", — Respectively said one of the witnesses of this oath, standing next to me, and concluded somewhat foggy: "Who killed lion, carries his bones".

It seems that in these words contained its innermost wisdom. I remembered that according to the legend, my friend once defended two lions at once, from where a prefix arose for his name – de Lyon (in French: two lions). That is, in the unfolded form it can be called: Jo, who won a couple of Lviv. And, consequently, who deserved the right to bear their bones, understand – the burden of glory. Here I suddenly introduced myself to myself what happens if, in the exercise of my audacious experiment, God, of course, the Spirit will be frightened. Who will be entrusted with the honor to carry what he cut off.

Preparing for the holiday began at midnight. From this hour, no one is allowed to enter Saoy. There was a rough, preliminary purification of the village. "At this time, we proceed to the expulsion of the Forces of Darkness and Evil. If someone gave us at this moment from Savannah, it risks to take on all this evil. Very dangerous, very! — explained Jo. He is comfortable in front of Kanishystrom with palm wine who love the locals to be touched, and generously shared with me with their knowledge: – The task facilitates what evil and good, like water and oil, can not mix. We know how to distinguish one of the other".

JO-de Lyon was preparing for the ritual according to his own program. For the sake of gaining confidence, he looked in an hour after midnight in the cemetery. At this time, candles are lit on the graves, and the participants of the rite draw prayers to the ancestors and sorcerers who went to the world, asking them to support them.

At about three o’clock in the morning, when the holiday of the holiday is raznorane and alcoholic guests, the beginning of the clone to sleep, there were sudden cries in the village. I realized that the first, the most unsteadous evil spirits are already leaving the village.

Since the upcoming dipri was to become a kind of seeing resistance of saui residents, the participants of the ritual were going with the forces, harden the will and spirit. When the trees appeared above the trees, the first participants of the holiday appeared on the streets – the most young villagers. Slowing and rhythmically swaying, they wandered down the street and made small, warm-up feats – swallowed lumps mud. Apparently, it was supposed to symbolize the invulnerability of their stomachs. Others, entering the excitement, undressed devils and packed along the waking village, the intricate patterns at a short dust. Each people have its own idea of ​​humor.

There were tricks and more serious. Some teenagers waved by bamboo guns, shooting over the heads of the hut. Weapons served pulled bamboo tubes stuffed with gunpowder. In the hands of one of the deals, she exploded and burned his fingers, however, the unlucky shooter did not even behave – invulnerable! Someone with laughter shoved the glass from the bottle from under whiskey and looked crusting them.

People more mature – it’s time for the main composition – notified in advance about what they intend to commit. According to its technical complexity, the promise was the most different, but equally unexpected: "I keep up with papaya" (Melon tree, brisk in Africa), "I hide an elephant in a banana grove!", "I will order a panther to lick my legs", "I will make the sun ascend in the West". However, none of these advertisements could eclipse for me, even if not such a large-scale, but impressive project declared JO.

The people ate, drank and danced under Tamamama and fashionable rhythms that villavissed an old tape recorder. Palm wine, beer, jin poured river. Men inflated breasts, preparing for magical rite. Copy around the fire of women baked, fried and cooked all new disasters. At the same time, they have time, on the summer she caressed the rhythm, designate graceful tors.

In the house JO, even children did not sleep on this night. Magician himself, when I looked in his hut in the morning, looked concerned. His eyes blushed from a lack of sleep and surplus alcohol. He grumbled, he also consulted with good spirits (for the natural balance there are such). According to the JO, they were concentrated above the Canary color by the sacrificial stone installed in the center of the courtyard.

It turns out that the spouses Jo de Lion arranged not that the riot – such in the African village is unthinkable, – but Svaru. Of course, they believed in the magic gift of their lord, but worried. Cut off he will cut off, but suddenly it does not come true? And women shuddered by horror goosebumps, running around their dark bodies. Some cried, others, swinging, due. I was translated from individual, the most eloquent moans, which are an integral part of the national folklore, where you can find a suitable precedent for any extreme situation.

Here are some samples: "Stupidity do not only fools!" (This is a soft reproach – in Africa a husband can only criticize indirectly), "There will be no colors, and butterflies will disappear! Butterfly disappear, there will be no cocoons!" Sounded and still some complicated idiomatics. To express it, it took the help of a whole brigade of Tolmachi. Thanks to their collective efforts, the text has gained unexpected similarity with the name of the famous novel, the existence of which my assistants hardly suspected: "Husband without a membe is similar to the rider, devoid of head". I do not exclude that this argument was for JO decisive.

"Silest, stupid! — ON. — Okay, for the first time I will cut my ear or language". The youngest spouse jo quickly looked from the first of these items to the second and announced, hitting us not by age mature thinking: "Better language – in it less contract".

For some reason it seemed to me that the tricky jo decided to check the feelings of his wives, and they withstand the test with honor. As a result, I listened to another wise centance: "Chicken of the neighbor always seems turkey, but for me my chickens are sweeter than the most fat turret of the neighbor". Is it necessary to clarify who said these court words?

And in the courtyard of the winner of two Lviv began preparation for the long-awaited rite. Intrunning your muscular torso and stretching, as the custom, white linen trousers demanded, Jo began to rub some leaves, after which they were sick of the bodies of children. Apparently, they had to play their role in the upcoming.

Spectators entered the trance and sacrificedly ascended around the sacrificial stone. One of the little brothers Jo approached us with a bloody mouth, with a crunch waiting for the remnants of a broken bottle. At the same time he managed to smile. Howling, splashing saliva and wildly rotating eyes, women in a trance swallowed raw eggs together with shell.

Finally, the elders came into effect, the strongest village people. Surrounded by loved ones, they performed combat melodies in the language of the people of Akan, once came here from the territory of the current Ghana. Women began to sprinkle the old men of miracle plants, and those forgetting about the age, jerking burned on semi-bent legs. Suddenly, throwing the head, they began to rhythmically prick themselves in the belly of knives. Blood flowed on white pants.

However, some of the most skillful (or the most invulnerable?) performers, blood practically did not extinguish, and fresh wounds heal in front of her eyes, leaving pink scars on the body. Young people joined the elder generation, also accepted themselves on belly, inflicting long shallow cuts. We were assumed aside, and their place occupied other self-players. Among them, I recognized two or three sons Jo. This cruel rite is called "sek". It is said that the secret – in special decoctions, which rubbing into the body, making it unresponsive to pain. No less important is the special concentration of the spirit.

By the time when guests were treated with demand, the Jo in solitude completed the preparation. Some special seed step, he smoothly crossed the yard and moved to the drums. Under their frantic roar, the knife snatched and, not allowing the audience to come to his senses, a dexterous, verified movement of compartment. A scarlet fountain splashed out of his mouth. Flash swing. Drying something intense, Jo showed the affected viewers a piece of alienated flesh from which blood dripped. The courtyard of the puffed wives of the mage finely trembled.

Then the magician backed up, put a sliced ​​tongue into the throat and followed became feverishly stuffed the prepared in advance of the green paste. Slightly putting it, he swallowed this messenger. "Would not swallow with him and language", — I thought anxiously. But then the magician hegked his hands and freely disadvantaged: "If the bird loses the pen, then a new one grows instead!" And then she opened his mouth wide and demonstrated the descent zaguch-red tongue!

Belonging cries of viewers were able to drown out the hornstock.

What it was, I don’t know so far. Mystical Miracle, Mass suggestion or hand dexterity? Yes, it is probably not so important. I saw an old rite out of the root in the ancient history of the black continent, and it was impressed.

Hedgered by the delight of the public, our hero began to promise again that next year he would surely cut off. You already know what – I’m tired of looking for euphemisms. Soothing spouses Jo lovingly looked at the tired husband with blood stains on her lips and body. During the year, they thought, a lot of water leaning. "And sperm too", — I smelled my frivolous thought. Harem at my friend was extensive and kids nemery.

I do not know whether it will perform his threat after a year, but after what I saw, nothing will surprise me.

— Old traditions disappear, "Sociologist from Abijan University of Dedi who arrived at Dipri. — In the area, in the same forest villages, there are still people capable of such wonders, but their secrets are lost. Leaves a whole culture.

Just at that moment, the young men who fulfilled the secret rite of initiation in the Dummy Forest. In the morning they sacrificed a young bitch and drank her blood to gain strength, and became adults. Looks like there is someone to take the relay in the African knight. Only Lviv may not be enough. They exactly disappear.