There was something magical about this past Saturday that motivated three different organizers to plan all-night-long events. I can only state with certainty that the passing of the fall equinox on Thursday had influenced the date of the water ceremony that I attended–I’m not sure why the organizers of the all-night milonga or the all-night salsa party chose this Saturday.
I’d planned to attend this event nearly two months ago when I met Yvette, our spiritual guide for the ceremony. I don’t know what her official title was, but she organized a very spiritual, woman-strong event this weekend.
She, along with her helpers, arrived at Alma de Mujer to outline the shape of a turtle with off-white rocks. Laced around the rocks was string that had red ribbons tied around it. Outlining the rocks and ribbon was a coarse yellow powder that I suspected to be cornmeal, but I noticed that there were no insects nibbling on it, which led me to believe that an organic insect repellent, such as a plant extract, had been mixed in with the corn meal to keep the insects away.
In the head of the rocky turtle outline, was a sweet-smelling fire that was carefully attended to by one of Yvette’s helpers at all times. One woman, in particular, held the position for the majority of the night.
Since water is a feminine entity, which makes up most of the planet, our bodies, and houses our unborn children, this ceremony was exclusively for women. All attendees wore either a skirt or dress, but as the sun went down and the temperature cooled, we all added second and third layers. Some women, such as myself, were partially emerged in sleeping bags.
But sleep was not on the menu! Each attendant entered after being ritually smoke cleansed with sage and offering a pinch of untreated tobacco to the fire. Four women were the guardians of the cardinal directions and maintained a small fire, incense and prayer in the areas that made up the turtle’s feet. Some indigenous Latinas doubled as singers and dancers and the rest of us sat in two half moon rows, facing the altar, and added to the female energy in collective prayer.
I enjoyed listening to Yvette explain the different global water challenges from the radioactive waters in Japan to the effects of global warming and the melting ice. She mentioned the killing spree in Norway and how the water retained a memory of that carnage. She then transitioned to how, like the Earth, our bodies are mostly water and how women carry their unborn children in water. Ideally, everytime we drink water, we should say a prayer for where has come from and for where it is going. Fortunately, we all had the opportunity to honor this important nutrient.
One of the items that Yvette asked us to bring was flowers. I normally don’t buy flowers, but chose some very colorful daisies. I’m so glad I did since during the ceremony, all the flowers were mixed together, but I took pride in seeing mine among the rest. We were given a bunch of flowers and had to break off the stem so that four inches remained. Some of the flowers were used for the altar. Once there was a sufficient amount of flowers with four-inch stems, two women took cylindrical wooden sticks that were about 3 feet long and started wrapping/tying the flowers to the sticks with string. All the while we worked with the flowers, songs, mostly in Spanish, were sung. I could hardly join in the singing, but Yvette encourgaged us to hum and some of the singers shared their rattlers with us. When one song came to an end, the flower work had to stop until a new one had begun. This strangely reminded me of capoeira’s respect for music. If there’s a pause in music, the capoeiristas circle around until the music starts again.
Yvette explained that the music was a form of prayer that went into the work being done. In the end, those flower sticks were absolutely gorgeous. As soon as the flower sticks had been completed, the singing stopped. A woman, who was not part of any of the indigenous dance group, let the spirit of the moment guide her dance. We were silent, not even speaking in hushed tones among ourselves. The only sounds that accompanied her dance were the insects, the wind and the rustling leaves. Even the disco that could be faintly heard earlier had ceased. I figured it must have been around two am.
Afterwards, the four guardians were invited to face the altar to pray and speak about their experience. Another woman took the main fire guardian’s place so she too could speak to the group. A woman who had led many of the songs with her powerful voice spoke. Yvette spoke and one of her assistants spoke, mentioning that at last year’s water ceremony, they were at a beach that had been polluted by oil, courtesy of BP. Two days after the ceremony, BP had finally stemmed the oil leak.
We exited the turtle totem. Most women ate since none of us had eaten since sunset, but I was not hungry at all. I’d barely drank water, but what I needed the most was sleep. One of my friends, who was the guardian of the West, invited me to sleep in the room where she and her two daughter were since there was four beds.
On Sunday morning at 7 am, someone came into our room and woke us up by announcing that we were beginning again. I felt a little groggy, but most importantly, even though I’d forgotten to pack my night guard, I did not have sore jaws. There’s something to be said about the side benefits of healing prayer.
I dutifully reported to the turtle totem, still not having broken my fast. As much as I love food, I didn’t feel any hunger pains until hours later. We entered the totem, throwing a pinch of pure tobacco atop the smoldering ashes of last night’s bonfire, but this time, we were cleansed by one of two flower sticks.
As two women knelt side by side facing the altar, two of the older women, each with a flower stick in hand, first laid the flower stick on the top of the kneeler’s head, then ritually placed the stick against various body parts on the front and back. Then two other women, holding a basket of flower petals, gently tossed a handful of petals on one of the kneeler’s heads.
After all women were cleansed with the flower sticks, we walked to a nearby stream to make our flower offering to the water. The dancer/singers and guardians first made their offerings followed by those of us who were mainly strengthening the energy with our presence.
We returned to the totem, but no one entered. Once the sun was in a certain height in the sky, all the dancers entered, along with a drum and the drummer led the group in greeting the four cardinal directions, the sky and the earth. Even those of us who were not dancers faced the directions indicated by the drummer. Then women from the different groups (tribes?) led the other dancers in one or two of their own native dances.
The medley of native dances lasted nearly two hours and ended the same way it had begun, acknowledging the six cubic directions. The dancers ate in the totem. Those of us who had not left early, filled up a picnic table that was on the porch of the main lodge since it was pleasant in the shade.
I loved the free-flowing conversations unhindered by male energy. None of us male bashed, but simply spoke of some of our challenges, directly or indirectly related to gender.
Before leaving, I passed out my business card. Whenever I have such a connection with other people, whether I may ever see them again or not, I make a point to pass out my business card. With these women in particular, we had all bonded in a very spiritual experience. I especially wanted them to have my contact information.
I’m excited to see the ramifications from the event.