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Making a Nganga, Begetting a God. Materiality and Belief in the Afro-Cuban

Religion of Palo Monte

Article · August 2019

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD
MATERIALITY AND BELIEF IN THE AFRO-CUBAN RELIGION
OF PALO MONTE

«The nganga is nothing more than a materialized

spirit that believes it is alive»
(Hector, Palo Monte worshipper)

The growing interest in material culture within the social sciences has
provided a new methodological and theoretical framework for the study of
religion1. Techniques for manufacturing religious objects, actions relating to
objects and liturgical spaces, gestures of daily rituals, practitioners’ bodily
education, and religious economies and transactions all provide compel-
ling arguments for taking a pragmatic approach to religion that highlights
the concrete modalities through which it emerges. Religion is not merely
a question of thought (symbolic or philosophical) and faith, it also exists
through actions, everyday routines, economic, spatial, and relational con-
straints, technical determinisms, and media opportunities2. This analytical
perspective is particularly fruitful in the case of the Afro-Cuban religion of

1
  This article is a revised version of the article K. Kerestetzi, Fabriquer une nganga, engen-
drer un dieux (Cuba), «Images re-vues», 8, 2011 (online).
2
  For the ‘material turn’ in religious studies, see A. Appadurai (ed.), The social life of
things: Commodities in cultural perspective, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1986;
I. Kopytoff, The cultural biography of things: commoditization as process, in The Social
Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective, edited by A. Appadurai, Cambridge,
Cambridge University Press, 1986, pp. 64-91; J.-P. Warnier, Construire la culture matériel-
le: L’homme qui pensait avec ses doigts, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1999; J.-P.
Warnier, The pot-king: The body and technologies of power, Leiden, Brill, 2007; P. Lemonnier,
Mythiques chaînes opératoires, «Techniques et cultures», 43-44, 2005, pp. 25-43; D. Miller
(ed.), Materiality, Durham, NC, Duke University Press, 2005; T. Ingold, Materials against
materiality, «Archaeological dialogues», XIV (2007), 1, pp. 1-16; A. J. M. Henare et alii,
Thinking through things: theorising artefacts ethnographically, London-New York, Routledge,
2007; F. Santos-Granero, The occult life of things: native Amazonian theories of materiality
and personhood, Tucson, University of Arizona Press, 2009; D. Morgan, Religion and material
culture: the matter of belief, London, Routledge, 2010, to name just few of its tenants.

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 146 KATERINA KERESTETZI

Palo Monte due to the extensive use made of objects, materials, and sub-
stances. The role of materiality is crucial in this religion, which tends to be
minimally prescriptive and institutionalized and which is characterized by
highly variable practices. In the absence of strict ritual protocols or sacred
texts, it is the material environment that influences the form taken by ritual
and religious representation. The present article highlights this analytical
perspective by showing how the making of a nganga, the central ritual arte-
fact of Palo Monte, and its ‘technology’ and aesthetics favour the emergence
of particular religious emotions and thoughts (Figs. 1; 2; 3). The description
of each step of the technical process that leads to the birth of a nganga will
reveal some of the logics governing Palo Monte practice, and will show how
worshippers give shape and life to their ‘gods’ in a concrete fashion, thus
making religious belief a question of immanence rather than transcendence.
Palo Monte is an initiatory religion of Bantu influence that retains some
linguistic and cultural elements associated with the area of the kingdom
of Kongo3. It is widespread across Cuba and, on a social level, is organized
horizontally through autonomous initiatory groups called ‘religious families’
(familias de religion). These communities are formed around a ritual leader,
man or woman, the ‘initiator’ who is a sort of second ‘father’ or ‘mother’ for
most members. On a cosmological level, one of Palo Monte’s prominent fea-
tures is that the spirits of the dead mediate and organize human action and
rituals. These spirits, named nfumbis, are gifted with supernatural powers
and knowledge such as prescience and control over the natural elements.
Palo Monte practitioners, or paleros, believe in the ability of these spirits to
influence human matters and try to make allies of them. The stronger the
alliance, the more the palero acquires ritual efficacy, prosperity, and protec-
tion against misfortune. In order to establish a relationship with a dead man,
the worshipper undergoes a difficult test: he must go to the cemetery, find
an abandoned tomb, and seal a pact with the spirit of the deceased person
that rests there. In this pact, the palero promises to feed the nfumbi with
animal blood, cigars, rum, and honey for the rest of his life and, in turn,
the muerto (dead man) agrees to ‘work’ for the palero, which means telling
fortunes or predicting the future and carrying out magical operations of
a constructive or destructive nature – healing, punishing, and so forth. If
the muerto accepts (which is not always the case) and the pact is sealed, the
palero digs up his remains and collects some bones, preferably the skull or

3
  Kongo was an Empire in South-East Africa that disappeared in the 16th century. Its
territory corresponds today to the North of Angola, Cabinda, the Republic of Congo, the
extreme west of the Democratic Republic of Congo, and part of Gabon.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 147

Fig. 1 Fig. 2

Fig. 3

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 148 KATERINA KERESTETZI

the finger bones but sometimes also the whole skeleton, a risky endeavour
given that the prison sentence in Cuba for desecrating a tomb can be up
to 30 years. Next, the palero brings the bones to the sanctuary in his home
and places them in an iron or clay cauldron, the nganga, with an assortment
of elements taken from nature, such as tree sticks (palos), earth, minerals,
animal remains, and metal objects (machetes, nails, chains, etc.). The nganga
is the dead man’s materialization, his new body, so to speak, and it allows
him to regain some of the attributes specific to life, such as growth, needs,
desires, and pleasure. And because it has a shape, the spirit embodied in
the cauldron enables the palero to physically interact with it (to talk to it, to
touch it, to feed it, etc.), which makes religious experience in Palo Monte
extremely rich on a sensory level (Fig. 4).
In Palo Monte, the nganga’s personification makes communication with
the palero easier: henceforth endowed with a human personality and bio-
graphical depth – paleros take great care in piecing together the dead man’s
biography 4 – this human-like god finds a common ground on which to
interact with the practitioner (Fig. 5). The spirit living in the nganga endows
it with speech, feelings, and agency 5, and enables it to act on its own initia-
tive, independently of any human mediation, and according to the full range
of human emotions: it can demand, abuse, forgive, love, avenge, kill, or heal.
If jealous, it might separate its owner from his wife, or, if benevolent, it
might kill his enemies. Nevertheless, this humanization of the nganga should
not mislead us about its nature: this artefact is not just the embodiment of
an anonymous dead man dug up from a cemetery. As mentioned above,
aside from human bones, the receptacle also contains many elements taken
from nature, such as tree sticks (palos), earth, minerals, and animal remains,
as well as various metal objects (such as machetes, nails, chains, and horse-
shoes). All these elements convey a range of representations to the nganga
that warrant further explanation.

A polysemous object
A simple overview of the terminology mobilized by paleros to name their
central ritual artefact offers an eloquent illustration of its semiotic complexi-
ty. It should be noted here that the use of one particular term is never exclu-

  K. Kerestetzi, Un mort pour son chaudron ou comment faire de l’objet-dieux du palo

4

monte un être irremplaçable, «Techniques&Cultures», 58, 2012, pp. 48-65.

5
 A. Gell, Art and agency: an anthropological theory, New York-Oxford, Oxford
University Press, 1998.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 149

Fig. 4

Fig. 5

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 150 KATERINA KERESTETZI

sive and it is not uncommon to hear a palero use the full range of synonyms
within a single conversation. Some names refer to the materiality of the
object, to its form and its function of container, for example “casuela”(pot)
or “caldero” (cauldron); others make reference to its precious nature and its
importance, such as the term “prenda’”(the dear, the precious, the jewel).
Some expressions from the Kikongo imbue the object with the power
and mystery that paleros attach to originary Africa. The term “nganga” has a
particularly interesting trajectory. In Kikongo, it means “healer, soothsayer,
doctor, expert, skilful, etc.”, that is to say the person who handles the “fet-
ish”6. In Cuba, the term has come to denote the ritual object itself and today
the Cuban equivalent of the African nganga would be the expression “tata
nganga”, literally the “leader of the nganga”.
More rarely, paleros use the term “nkisi” that designates the Bakongo
ritual objects from which the Cuban nganga derives. And, like the latter,
the African nkisi is “an ancestral spirit that has taken shape in a sculpture
or some other object” 7 that can serve as a container of its powers, such as
dolls, packages, bottles, etc. Indeed, the paleros’ cauldron shares some of
the principles involved in making those minkisi objects (plural of “nkisi”),
mainly the minkisi baskets and bags – it includes the same kinds of elements
and has the same functions and uses 8. Moreover, historically, in Cuba, the
first ngangas were in the shape of bags, which were called bouma 9.
Several representations of the nganga also emerge from the paleros’ dis-
course. These different conceptions are not exclusive and tend to co-exist
or partially overlap. Depending on the discursive context, paleros will there-
fore tend to call upon one representation rather than another. The nganga is
sometimes described as a ‘microcosm’ or ‘a world in miniature’, a collection
of scattered forces that can condense and act upon the real world. According
to one of my key interlocutors, this is because «it contains pieces of all nat-
ural forces: some earth from the mountain, a small branch [palo] from the
forest, a bit of river water, a drop from the sea». This idea reflects the wealth

6
  J. Fuentes Guerra – A. Schwegler, Lengua y Ritos de Palo Monte Mayombe, Madrid,
Iberoamericana, 2005, pp. 28-29.
7
  K. Laman, The Kongo III, Swede, Hâkan Ohlssons Boktryckeri, 1962, p. 67.
8
  W. MacGaffey, «The eyes of understanding: Kongo minkisi», in Astonishment and Power,
edited by W. MacGaffey – M. D. Harris – S. H. Williams – D. C. Driskell, Washington
1993, pp. 16-30; J. R. Young, Rituals of resistance: African atlantic religion in kongo and the
lowcountry south in the era of slavery, Baton Rouge, Louisiana State University Press, 2007.
9
  L. Cabrera, La Forêt et les Dieux (El Monte), Paris, Éditions Jean Michel Place, 2003
[1954], p. 566.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 151

and variety of elements that make up the nganga. For the paleros, the ‘soul’
or strength of the materials contained in the cauldron can be manipulated
for their profit. The use of the terms ‘microcosm’ or ‘world in miniature’, is
probably inspired by the vocabulary of ethnologist Lydia Cabrera. It should
be noted that sources of knowledge are so rare that paleros gladly read the
work of ethnologists in order to enrich their practice.
Devotees sometimes see the cauldron as the material manifestation of
a mpungu, a sort of minor divinity that paleros add to the nganga in the
double form of a stone and a ritual sign, a firma, a kind of ‘signature’ that
paleros inscribe within the cauldron10. In most cases, the first component of
the cauldrons’ name corresponds to the mpungu it contains. For example, a
nganga might be called ‘Sarabanda Noche Oscura’ because it contains the
matari (stone) of the mpungu Sarabanda. This sometimes leads believers
to associate the nganga and the mpungu but this identification does not
exceed the nominal level, since the making of a nganga does not impera-
tively require a mpungu to be added. However, there are no ngangas without
nfumbis. For the majority of paleros, the confusion is such that the two terms
are interchangeable.
While the various terms and expressions describing the nganga can gen-
erate a poly-definition, worshippers do not separate the various aspects of
the object but rather see them as the interlinking parts of a single being.
And when the nganga is identified with a god, a dead person, or the uni-
verse, this is always in a literal way. The god, the spirit, and the cosmos are
believed to truly live in the cauldron. The nganga is not an intermediary of
the divine, it is the divine itself, the culmination of the paleros’ requests and
prayers. It is a god in its own right or, to use Marc Augé’s term11, a singular
‘god-object’ which represents nothing but itself.

What the nganga does

Through its morphology alone, the nganga creates the conditions that
allow worshippers to enter the ‘sacred’ space of Palo Monte. Its expressive
power is based on its indefinite shape with no fixed contours, which is a
source of amazement. The different elements composing it cannot be clearly
distinguished. Blackened by sacrificial blood, swollen with all the ingredi-

10
  Myths about mpungus have fallen into oblivion. For the majority of paleros, they are
the spirits of great men who actually lived in Africa. Just like the other components of a
nganga, they are coerced into ‘working’ for the palero.
11
  M. Augé, Le dieu objet, Paris, Flammarion, 1988.

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 152 KATERINA KERESTETZI

ents that build up over time, it only reveals a few feathers, some bones, a
chain, its ‘eyes’ – the mpakas, two ox horns through which the practitioner
observes the ‘mysteries of life’ –, a machete, and an alignment of palos,
nails, and hooks. This amorphous mass, full of materiality, is supposed to
hide the powers that compose it. Regardless of any symbolic mediation, it
clearly sets out the principles mobilized by the palero: the forces of nature,
the regenerative power of bloodshed, aggression, death, and mystery. The
nganga, in the manner of Malian boli ritual objects, belongs to those things
whose «enigmatic allure makes them already divine»12.
There is no aspect of Palo Monte practice that does not require the
participation of the nganga: it is the main protagonist in all ceremonies,
consultations, ‘works’ (trabajos) of magic, and acts of divination. On a
sociological level, the part played by this artefact in the initiation group is
extraordinarily structural because all relationships between initiates seem
to be linked through it. The nganga is considered the most eminent member
of its religious community and its word is constantly sought (through pro-
cesses of divination or ritual possession) in order to substantiate the human
protagonists’ ritual acts: it ratifies new initiations and plays an active role in
ritual, sometimes by imposing an unplanned action – it can, for example, be
dissatisfied with the course of a ritual and command that an extra rooster
be sacrificed. The nganga can also influence the personal life of initiates,
dictating appropriate behaviour: during rituals, it can, for instance, speak
through the mouth of a medium and advise a member of the group to never
drink alcohol again, to sell his house, to avoid another person, to conclude
a business deal, and so forth. The presence of the nganga also tempers the
authority of the ritual leader of the religious community. While the latter
is fallible – because he/she is human, his/her words are unreliable – for the
paleros, the nganga is never wrong, it is omniscient. Attributing the highest
authority to this artefact leads to more symmetrical and egalitarian relation-
ships between the human members of the group, unlike other Afro-Cuban
religions, such as Santería, which tend to be more hierarchical.
The influence of a nganga extends beyond the doors of the Palo Monte
sanctuary and universe. This god-object, and the nfumbi inside it, lives
literally in the palero’s house, since the cuarto de fundamento (Palo Monte
temple) is constructed in the domestic space, and is actively involved in the
palero’s personal life. The practitioner visits the cauldron daily, not only to

12
  J. Bazin, Retour aux choses-dieux, in Le temps de la réflexion, Corps des dieux, edited
by C. Malamoud – J-P. Vernant, Paris, Gallimard, 1986, pp. 253-273.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 153

enrich his religious knowledge but also, and mainly, to improve his personal
condition. Having immediate access to an omniscient being makes the pale-
ro dependent on its opinion. Thanks to the nganga, he can henceforth know
which steps to take in his professional life, reveal the hidden intentions of
his relatives, or prevent the malicious acts of his neighbours. The nganga,
and its nfumbi, quickly becomes the palero’s most privileged interlocutor.
Esteban, an old practitioner from Cienfuegos (a Cuban city where I con-
ducted my research), said to me once: «before doing anything, I always ask
the muerto. Can I go to work today? Can I sleep with this woman? I act
depending on what he says to me». In view of the benefits the palero obtains
from consulting his nganga, and given the great ease with which information
is obtained (the palero just asks a question and obtains an immediate answer
through a divination device), frequenting the cauldron fast becomes a habit
or even an addiction. Gradually, this artefact becomes an everyday compan-
ion, a trusted friend who gives advice and comfort. «With time, it will win
your trust, yes. For me, my nganga is my brother, my friend, my confidence.
My nganga for me is my confidence», said palero Hector.
Life becomes easier: the dead man lifts doubts and suspicions and rela-
tionships with others can be experienced with greater calm and greater
detachment. But aside from the psychological comfort (or paranoid ten-
dencies) brought by unveiling others’ intentions and dispositions, having
immediate access to a being that is deemed omniscient is not without prac-
tical consequences. Bringing a nganga into a household changes the palero’s
relationship to his environment by acting on his psychology in certain ways.
It alters the range of his attention (for example, he will pay more attention to
the details of his environment in order to find spiritual signs endowed with
meaning), his relationship to decision-making (by questioning the cauldron
about the relevance of an action, he dispels any doubts and thus makes
deciding easier), and his very relationship to himself (the cauldron gradually
becomes an extension/version of the self, an altérité constituante or ‘constit-
uent otherness’, in the words of Philippe Erikson13). The nganga comes to
shape new domestic arrangements, for better or for worse: as an intentional
and influent entity, it interferes in relationships between partners, it heals
children, judges situations, and becomes a new member of the household
that requires attention, time, and money.

13
  Ph. Erikson, Altérité, tatouage, et anthropophagie chez les Pano: la belliqueuse quête du
soi, «Journal de la Société des Américanistes de Paris», LXXII (1985), pp. 185-210.

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 154 KATERINA KERESTETZI

Why make a nganga?

The reasons that lead an individual to join a Palo Monte group are main-
ly of a therapeutic nature. ‘Therapeutic’ should not be understood here as
referring to the narrow field of physical or mental illness but rather as a
broader term referring to the resolution of all misfortune, including of a
relational and professional nature. The religious journey often begins with
a simple visit to a palero in order to magically solve a problem that could be
medical, emotional, or legal. But in some cases, when the ‘patient’ or client
suffers from recurring afflictions, the palero can conclude that the source of
misfortune lies in a bad relationship with spirits of the dead. In that case,
an initiation to Palo Monte is often advised, because it offers a sustainable
solution for the neophyte by placing him/her under the protection of the
initiator’s nganga and nfumbi.
The initiate has the freedom to choose his/her level of involvement in
worship. He may initially be satisfied with the protection and guidance of
his initiator’s nganga and only practise Palo Monte occasionally, by restrict-
ing his religious activities to participation in the annual rituals organized by
his co-worshippers. From time to time, he might visit his initiator’s nganga
in order to offer it a bottle of rum, a cigar, or an animal, and to get advice
in return. This mode of Palo Monte worship does not require making a per-
sonal nganga. This means that for the worshipper, his initiators necessarily
mediate access to religious knowledge and power. These paleros therefore
have no autonomy, nor even the opportunity to take action, consult with
the nganga, or carry out magical operations. Anyone who wants to leave this
state of dependency has to complete his initiatory career by making his own
nganga. This decision is not common because it requires absolute commit-
ment from the palero. If the owner of the nganga fails in his ritual duties and
for instance stops feeding his cauldron, he could put his life at stake: «the
nganga can save you as much as it can kill you», paleros say.
Making a personal nganga does not determine how worship is carried
out. Engagement in Palo Monte is a matter of personality and choice. Some
people, little involved in the practice, install their nganga in a corner of their
home where they treat it with respect, but devote their time to it in moder-
ation. Others, more engaged, construct a temple for their nganga, a sort of
wooden hut in the yard of their home, where they retreat daily, sometimes
for many hours, in order to converse with it and try to optimize their powers
and knowledge. Some individuals, when particularly charismatic, dedicated,
or simply passionate can, with time and practice, put their talents to the
service of others, which means receiving clients, and later, perhaps, creating
a new ‘religious family’.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 155

Fig. 6

However, whatever the degree of commitment of the palero, assembling

his first nganga invariably follows the same ritual. This takes place in the
initiator’s cuarto de fundamento (temple) and he is responsible for finding
the dead man’s bones and bringing them there (Fig. 6). This ritual is consid-
ered by paleros in both its technical dimension – as a process of making a
divinity – and in its spiritual dimension – as a pact that will forever bind the
practitioner and the spirit together. The presence of a medium is generally
required. The dead person can then become manifest through the human
host, initiate a discussion with his future tata nganga (owner of a nganga),
and give his consent to the pact – which is far from being systematic, with
communication between the two often resulting in the spirit’s refusal.
An experienced palero, who already has a nganga, can make others in
order to further support his magical efficacy. In this case, the ritual becomes
a purely individual move: he will have to find the dead man’s bones himself
and then construct the cauldron in the privacy of his domestic sanctuary,
without the presence of the initiation group. In all cases, if the spirit consents
to work with the palero and to be installed in the cauldron, the pact is consid-
ered sealed and the material assembly of the nganga, el montaje, then ensues.

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 156 KATERINA KERESTETZI

Making a nganga: el montaje

Each nganga is unique. While they all share many elements, such as
the type of tree sticks they contain, their composition varies considerably
depending on their owner’s opinions, the identity of the nfumbi they host,
or the use for which they are destined. Each nganga has a name of its own,
which distinguishes it from others. This uniqueness is much more than
the logical consequence of a complex collection of material elements; it
is desired and actively sought-after by the paleros because it enhances the
object’s power. However, it is also what makes it vulnerable to other wizards’
attacks – an enemy who knows the exact composition of a nganga could
manipulate it and perhaps even cause its owner’s demise. In these circum-
stances, it is understandable that absolute secrecy surrounds the production
of this god-object.
The paleros distinguish approximately ten types of ngangas, according to
the deity, the mpungu, they host. A nganga may not include them, and in that
case, it is considered evil or a witch, and it is called ndoki. The following
description depicts the making of a nganga called ‘Sarabanda’. Sarabanda is
the mpungu of metals and war and is widespread among practitioners. The
paleros consider it one of the most representative of their religion because,
like its mpungu, it embodies its core values ostentatiously: masculinity, fight-
ing spirit, and strength. The description of the process through which it is
made is based on my personal observations, on my informants’ descriptions,
and on an ethnographic film by Jean-Luc Chevanne (Fundación de una
Nganga Siete Rayos, 87’, Paris, 1997), as well as on the descriptions of Cuban
ethnologist Lydia Cabrera14. Note that the right to attend the making of a
nganga is reserved only to initiates who themselves own a nganga, and at best
to people of absolute trust. I was able to attend this secret process thanks to
a long-standing friendship with the palero who assembled it, however many
elements were concealed from me.
Despite its chaotic appearance, the Sarabanda nganga, like any other for
that matter, is structured according to a strict principle of verticality. It has
three deliberately separate levels: the bottom, the heart, and the top (my
terms). This distinction is first of all marked physically: the bottom is cov-
ered with wax, while the heart is covered with an opaque mixture of liquids
and earth. The paleros also distinguish the first level verbally, calling it the
fondo canasta (bottom of the basket) or fundamento (foundation). The sep-
aration of the three levels indicates that their material constitution presents

14
 Cabrera, La Forêt et les Dieux.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 157

structural differences as regards the nature, lay out and function of their
components.

The bottom: the core identity of the cauldron

The following description takes into account the order in which each ele-
ment is inserted into the cauldron. First, the palero traces a ritual drawing,
the firma. This geometric and sometimes figurative design of variable form
consists mainly of circles, arrows, crosses, and lines (Fig. 7). It is drawn with
white chalk for beneficial operations or with coal for works of a destructive
nature and it guarantees the efficacy of ritual activity. There is a plethora
of firmas to represent the nfumbi of the sanctuary, the mpungus, and the
ndokis (the evil spirits, the witches). For each operation, for each ‘work’ of
magic, for each ceremony, and for each consultation, the sign corresponding
to the spiritual entity being summoned must be drawn (Fig. 7). As noted by
T. Diaz Fabelo15: «The paleros believe very seriously that each drawing has
power over the ideas it represents». For example, by plotting the firma rep-
resenting the mpungu Mama Chola, the palero involves the latter in solving
love problems. But he can also destroy a foreign nganga by tracing the sign
that represents it.
Even when each drawing has the name of a specific entity (a mpungu,
for instance), it can also include symbols of other elements with power or a
‘soul’. With firmas, the paleros are thus able to mobilize agents that are not
present in their sanctuaries in their works and rituals: mpungus, wandering
spirits, thunder, the moon, the stars, etc. These ritual signs, more than just
identity markers, have the power to make connections between the differ-
ent elements they represent. For example, when thunder and a mpungu are
drawn in the same sign, the two entities are obliged to work together in
order to accomplish a particular task.
Like the figures of European magic, from which they are largely inspired,
firmas are sometimes a «spatial representation of a magical operation»16,
sometimes a diagram of ritual action17. In fact, these drawings direct the
actions of human and non-human agents participating in the ritual in a

15
  T. Díaz Fabelo, Diccionario de la lengua conga residual en Cuba, Santiago de Cuba,
Casa del Caribe, 1972, p. 87.
16
  B. Grévin – J. Véronèse, Les “caractères” magiques au Moyen Âge (XIIe-XIVe siècle),
«Bibliothèque de l’école des chartes», CLXII, 2004, 2, pp. 305-379: 345.
17
  J. Bonhomme – K. Kerestetzi, Les signatures des dieux. Graphismes et action rituelle
dans les religions afro-cubaines, «Gradhiva», 22, 2015, pp. 74-105.

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 158 KATERINA KERESTETZI

Fig. 7

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 159

very concrete way. Moreover, these drawings can also represent the actions
themselves. The arrows adorning them are signs of movement and direc-
tion: when, for example, in a sanctuary there is a firma with the main arrow
pointing to the exit door, we know that an evil spirit is probably being
warded off – the arrow is directing it away from his victim and the sanc-
tuary hosting him. And as executive signs, these ritual drawings are often
sketched in places that indicate a direction, such as doors and windows.
The paleros, acknowledging the directional function of the firma, say that
the one that is drawn at the bottom of the nganga largely defines its ‘path’
(camino), that is to say, its tendencies and the way it works. But the path
of the nganga is also built materially by the paleros, unlike in Afro-Cuban
Santería where the caminos of the orishas, its deities, are mythological pro-
ductions that represent different stages of the deities’ life on earth18. Pedro,
a practitioner from Cienfuegos, summed this up eloquently:
Many ngangas are called Sarabanda but there is Sarabanda Kuye, Sarabanda
Palo Monte, Tengue Yaya, Vira Mundo. Because, for example, you, your name is
‘Katerina’. Now I, by inserting into the cauldron the remains of a black cat, I can
give you an energy: ‘Bad Katerina’. They are all called Sarabanda, they all have the
same roots, but they may not contain the same elements. We don’t insert the same
components. One is blond, the other is black. They are all alike but they are all
different.
Some paleros say there are as many paths as there are prendas (another
term for nganga) because they are the result of a unique combination of
firmas, and other material elements: the singularity of each god-object is
therefore built from its very foundations, through an eminently technical
process of bricolage or makeshift composition.
For a Sarabanda nganga, the firma takes sometimes the form of a circle
crossed by two perpendicular lines that intersect in the centre and divide
the circle into four equal parts. Each of the ends of the lines sports an arrow
pointing to one of the four cardinal points. A silver coin is fixed with wax to
each end as well as to the centre of the firma. At the same place, gunpowder,
the fula in Kikongo, is added and ignited in order to activate its power.
To complete the process of making the bottom, the palero writes the
name and surname of the nfumbi it contains on a piece of paper and he
carefully folds it. If by chance «the wizard can not write, he speaks out the

18
 R. Lachatañeré, El Sistema Religioso de los Afrocubanos, La Havane, editorial de
Ciencias Sociales, 2004 [1938-1946].

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 160 KATERINA KERESTETZI

name and surname of the dead man»19. The last element that is inserted in
the bottom is named secreto de la nganga (the secret of the nganga). For palero
Pepe, for example, the secreto came in the shape of a turtle whose abdomen
was filled with various elements, before being carefully stitched. The bot-
tom is usually completed by covering all its components with an opaque
material such as wax, earth taken from an anthill, or a layer of ash, in order
to separate it from the elements added thereafter.
Compared to other levels of the nganga, overflowing with materiality, the
bottom of the nganga does not have the same thickness. The materials com-
posing it are poor in both volume and matter. Their sparse lay out composes
a very patchy surface with many gaps, in striking contrast with the density
and compact nature of the other levels. This is due to the specific character
of the bottom components, which seem to be the core identity of the caul-
dron. The folded paper reveals the nfumbi’s identity, endowing the nganga
with a past, with feelings, and with a personality. The firma reveals the iden-
tity of the mpungu, which is supposed to protect the cauldron. The mpungu
influences both the tendencies of the god-object – Sarabanda endows the
cauldron with his warrior character while Cobayende, the mpungu of illness
and health, offers his exceptional healing skills –, and its ‘intellectual’ devel-
opment – the mpungus are perceived as African deities and teach the nganga
to speak their native language, la lengua, i.e. Palo Monte’s ritual language,
as well as all the secrets of the Kongos, the ‘original’ paleros. The symbol
of the coin fixed in the middle of the firma provides information about the
identity of the temple to which the initiate belongs. For Jorge’s sanctuary,
for instance, the protective entity was mayimbe, the Cuban vulture, which
serves as messenger between human and the supreme god, Nsambi (which,
like many African gods, is too abstract and distant to raise the worshippers’
interest and influence their practice). In order to symbolize mayimbe in his
cauldron, in the absence of other options, the palero fixed a US coin with
the American eagle on it upon the foundational firma. And it is not merely
a symbol. The presence of an element representing the mayimbe will influ-
ence the nganga’s behaviour as much as the other components. The cauldron
will, for instance, take revenge on his enemies by making them vomit like
this scavenger. The secreto de la nganga marks the cauldron’s identity with
the animal’s characteristics: in the case of Pepe, who inserted a turtle, there
will be ritual possessions in which the medium hosting the nfumbi of the
nganga imitates the movements of the turtle and its ferocious bites.

19
 Cabrera, La Forêt et les Dieux, p. 140.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 161

The bottom of the nganga contains the cauldron’s most ‘sensitive’ ele-
ments. It is therefore during the construction of this level that the paleros’
usual tendency to secrecy is most intense. Here every gesture is performed
in the spirit of concealment. The firma is drawn and then immediately
rinsed out with water. The nfumbi’s name is marked on a piece of paper but
then folded carefully. A dead animal stuffed with many elements is inserted,
but stitched with great care. And finally everything is covered with ash or
wax in order to make this compartment of the nganga perfectly opaque.

The middle level: limbs with which to act, senses with which to feel
The middle level, the ‘heart’ of the nganga, is distinguished from the bot-
tom by its essence, but also by its function. One could, in the terminology of
Thompson20, describe its components as spirit-embodying, that is to say, as
elements containing a power. Directed by the bottom, they then take action
and give the cauldron the ability to operate.
In this compartment of the prenda, first a dog’s head is inserted, prefer-
ably a black one. The kiyumba, the dead man’s skull taken from the cem-
etery, is nested in its jaw. In the case of Pepe, who could not find a dog’s
head, the skull was stuck on a bamboo stick (caña brava), which was fixed
in the wax covering the bottom, so that it could occupy the exact centre of
the cauldron and act as its scaffolding to some extent. Pepe then scratched
a hole with a machete at the top of the skull. He removed the brain with his
fingers and scattered the pieces into the cauldron. In the place of the brain,
he inserted a bamboo stick filled with sand, liquid mercury, seawater, water
from a river, water from a well, water from a cemetery, alum, cloves, and
pepper, and sealed it up with wax. Jorge, for his part, used a slightly dif-
ferent method. He placed the bamboo stick next to the skull and replaced
the brain of the deceased with a candle. The paleros who are in possession
of other skeleton parts, such as fingers, tibias, and kneecaps, usually place
them around the kiyumba.
According to an informant from Cabrera, after putting the dead person’s
bones and some soil from his grave into the nganga, the palero «(…) makes
an incision in his arm with a knife or a dagger with a white handle and lets
some drops of blood flow into the cauldron»21. But it is also common for
paleros to shed their blood at the end of the assembly process, when the

20
  R. F. Thompson, The Flash of the Spirit: African & Afro-American art & philosophy,
New York e Canada, Random House, 1984.
21
 Cabrera, La Forêt et les Dieux, p. 140.

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 162 KATERINA KERESTETZI

nganga is completed. The owner’s blood acts as a transfusion, it gives life to

the new envelope of the spirit and animates it. For the paleros, human blood
contains a vital force capable of recomposing dead matter and of reviving
the dead. Unlike animal blood, which is used regularly at ceremonies and
during works of magic in order to feed the nganga, human blood is poured
only once, during the object’s birth. As highlighted by a practitioner from
Cienfuegos, «nfumbis live from blood». However, a palero never feeds the
nfumbi with human blood because this blood is muy caliente, ‘very hot’ (that
is to say, energetic) and triggers frantic thirst. If the nfumbi were to develop
a taste for human blood, he would not stop asking for it and could end up
bleeding his palero dry and killing him. To guard against this danger, after
giving their blood, initiates immediately rush to mask its smell by covering
it with the blood of a rooster. It is often said that evil paleros accustom their
dead to human blood, in order to acquire great power. It is also said that
these people are forced to sacrifice small children in order to quench the
thirst of their vampire nfumbis. These rumours probably started circulating
with the publicity surrounding the murders of little Zoila (1904) and Cecilia
(1919), of which ‘witches’ were accused22 or, in contemporary language,
paleros – for the majority of Cubans, paleros are considered to be dangerous
and unscrupulous witches.
At the intermediate level of the nganga, paleros also place the stone (mata-
ri) representing the cauldron’s protective deity, or mpungu. In Pepe’s case,
this was a Sarabanda’s matari. This singular stone, which can sometimes be
sought for years because it has to display a sign that reveals the presence
of the entity, can also be placed alongside the nganga. At this level, the
following are also inserted: animals’ remains, living insects, and sometimes
excrement, as well as 21 stones from different places, and different kind of
metals – gold, silver, copper, mercury, and magnetite. Some, like Marelis,
add vegetables reduced to powder. In general, earth taken from 21 different
places, such as hospitals, prisons, cemeteries, anthills, or crossroads, are
also inserted, as well as 21 liquids called ‘waters’ (aguas), such as river water,
seawater, water taken from a cemetery, water of turpentine (agua de raz),
and holy water if the nganga is destined to perform essentially beneficial
works. Marelis also inserted horse urine, and the urine, sweat, and tears
of a young child. According to Cabrera23, handfuls of white ants are added

22
  F. Ortiz, Los Negros Brujos, La Havane, editorial de Ciencias sociales, 2001 [1906]; R.
L. Román, Governing Spirits: religion, miracles, and spectacles in Cuba and Puerto Rico, 1898-
1956, Chapel Hill, The University of North Carolina Press, 2007.
23
 Cabrera, La Forêt et les Dieux, p. 141.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 163

and are surrounded by red chilli pepper, pepper, garlic, ginger, white onion,
cinnamon, a bouquet of ruta chalepensis, piñon (erythrina berteroana), and
anamu (petiveria alliacea).
Then 21 tree sticks, or palos, are placed vertically in the cauldron cov-
ering the receptacle walls and emerging 20 to 50 centimetres from it. For
a Sarabanda nganga, according to L. Cabrera24, the following are added:
llamao branches (unidentified), vencedor (unidentified, literally: ‘winner’),
cocuyo (paralabatia dictyneura, literally: ‘pyrophoric’), ebano carbonero (maba
crassinervis, literally: ‘charcoal ebony’), moruro (pithecolobium arboreum),
tenge (polppigia proceral), the palo caja (allophyllus cominia, literally: ‘stick
box’), palo ramón (trophis racemosa), raspa lengua (cassearia hirsuta, literally:
‘scratch the tongue’), cambia voz (amyris balsamifera, literally: ‘change the
voice’), palo rompe hueso (cassearia sylvestris, literally: ‘stick that breaks the
bone’), guara (cupania cubensis), halahala (unidentified), lelo (unidentified),
ceiba (ceiba pentandra, silk-cotton tree, paleros’ most sacred tree), jiquí (pera
bumelifolia), jagüey macho (ficus membranacea), yo puedo más que tú (uniden-
tified, literally: ‘I can more than you’). While tree branches are not exclu-
sive to this central floor of the nganga, they are, like its other components,
spirit-embodying par excellence, because they enclose the properties and the
power of the trees from which they were cut. These can be physical proper-
ties, for instance their solidity – indeed, most palos are made of hardwoods
– but also magical and symbolic properties, as is the case for the jagüey or
ficus membranacea, a parasite that paleros appreciate greatly for its ability to
devour almost all other plants around it.
The part played by palos in ritual activities is fundamental for prac-
titioners, as evidenced by the very name of the religion – Palo Monte
literally means ‘branch of the forest’. Trees sticks are considered spirits’
favourite habitats and the forces they enclose are the basis of paleros’ magic
pharmacopeia. For each operation and magic potion, for each purification
ritual, to fortify the ngangas and to heal the sick, paleros use palos without
exception, in most cases after turning them into powder. The fact that
they are visually salient – they are one of the first things one notices when
contemplating a nganga – can be understood as a display of identity: in
the Afro-Cuban religious field, paleros are recognized as specialists of tree
branches and plants. Moreover, the term palero can be translated as ‘one
who handles tree branches’.

24
  L. Cabrera, El Monte, Havana, Universal, 1998 [1954].

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 164 KATERINA KERESTETZI

To conceal this intermediate level of the nganga, except the palos that
cross its three compartments, paleros cover it up with a blackish mixture of
earth and liquids. The countless ingredients of this level, overflowing with
materiality, are packed tightly one next to the other. The larger pieces are
put in place first and then every gap is filled with earth and liquids. This
compact nature suggests that the nganga is a concentration of forces but also
that it is a single unit despite its heterogeneous components.
The making process of this unit of the artefact appears to be based on a
systemic logic or logic of borrowing. As one of my informants stressed, «all
the natural forces that we put into a nganga, we give them to the nfumbi to
strengthen it even more». The various components are therefore inserted
into the cauldron to work with the nfumbi and offer it their power. For
example, the dog’s head will give the nfumbi the animal’s olfactory skills
and the strength and the speed of its attacks. The dog for the nganga must
therefore be chosen carefully. If the palero makes the wrong choice, his
nfumbi will be weakened. A little poodle or a sweet cocker would hardly
be satisfactory solutions for those wanting a powerful and ferocious nganga.
According to the same logic, the stones and the different types of earth or
liquids also endow the cauldron with the power of the places they come
from and the ability to handle the forces that reside there. For example, by
inserting earth taken from a psychiatric hospital into the nganga, the palero
gives the nfumbi the ability to manipulate madness, to transmit it to one
person or remove it from another.
The logic of borrowing and accumulation underpinning the manufac-
turing process for the central compartment, and probably the artefact as a
whole, can also be mobilized when constructing its parts. For example, it
applies to the bamboo stick placed in the skull of the deceased. According to
one palero, earth from a cemetery is inserted into the artefact because ceme-
teries are the place of predilection of the dead, and because this ensures the
cauldron has their sympathy. Water from the river and water from the well
are poured inside the cauldron for their occult powers, due to the darkness
and depth that characterize them. Seawater, sand, and mercury, which are
spiritual passports of sorts, enable the nfumbi to move and act beyond the
Cuban borders. Another of my informants, joking on the subject, said that
this way the nfumbi can cross the sea and become ‘international’. The same
palero added that seawater will keep the nfumbi restless, as the waves of the
sea, and mercury will always keep it ‘hot’, that is to say, on constant alert,
always awake. Filling up this piece of bamboo transforms it into a con-
densate of powers, thus endowing it with a certain autonomy, just like the
nganga. One could almost detach it and make it into a magical tool in itself.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 165

Moreover, other elements of the object, such as the mpakas described below,
can perfectly replace the artefact if the palero has to operate far from his
sanctuary. The recursive nature of the principle of the container constantly
creates new centres of power, other small ngangas as it were.
While the technology behind making a nganga is designed to optimize
its operational efficacy, the elements inserted are not merely sought for their
effective powers. Along with strength, the palero also seeks singularity. As
noted by Bazin25 for the boli objects in Mali:
To understand what a god-object is, you have to (…) assume that all beings can
be placed on a hierarchical scale according to their degree of individuation: in
this respect, a rock that points to the horizon is superior to a stone on the beach,
a solitary lion is ‘worth more’ than a partridge, just like a sovereign is different
from each of his subjects due to his radically unique nature. According to such a
continuum extending from the particular to the singular, from the common to the
original, from the general to the specific, the divine occupies one of the extremes:
something that is more singular than all others, that is more personal than persons,
would be divine.
The search for the singular is particularly evident when it comes to the
nfumbi, which has a name and a story. But it can be extended to all the
ingredients of the cauldron: the original form of a stone or of a branch will
make it more desirable to the palero. Elier, for example, who needed a dog’s
head to complete his nganga, had spotted one whose eyes were so terrifying
and disturbing that it seemed to emanate power. So he waited patiently for
the death of the animal (or perhaps even caused this death) in order to get it.
The individuation of the materials in the cauldron is also achieved by the
different processes through which they are collected. The paleros believe
that animals, plants, and stones have an interior nature similar to that of
humans, that they understand their language and motivations, that they
share their feelings. Paleros will therefore start a dialogue with them before
pulling them from their natural environment. They will talk to them, and
explain their motivations. This dialogue actually corresponds to a process
of individuation: after creating a personal relationship with a being, even in
the most rudimentary form, through the exchange of a few words, and after
focusing attention on it, that this being then takes shape in the imagination.
Some of the nganga’s components are also singular because they are chosen
by the nfumbi. Before adding an element, the palero asks the nfumbi whether
it is appropriate, using his chamalongos, a divination device. It is clear that an

25
 Bazin, Retour aux choses-dieux, p. 256.

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 166 KATERINA KERESTETZI

item chosen by this being is already invested with meaning. Moreover, often
a series of negative responses from the spirit will lead the palero to suggest a
new element for the nganga, thus further increasing its uniqueness.
The place from which the element comes can also endow the god-object
with an exceptional character. The harder the place of collection is to access,
or the more dangerous or full of history it is, the more significant it is. When
it comes to collecting some earth or a stone, a place renowned for its role in
the Cuban Revolution is therefore better than an anonymous courtyard. An
example of this situation was presented to me unexpectedly when I accom-
panied a group of Cuban musicians on tour in Greece. Among them, there
were some paleros. In the middle of our visit to the Acropolis of Athens, I
caught them collecting rocks near the Parthenon (which is of course strictly
forbidden) for the sole purpose of adding them to their cauldron. In Palo
Monte tradition, there is clearly no reference to this historical place and
therefore no ritual formula that concerns it in particular. However, despite
the few practical applications that inserting such a stone could have for reli-
gious practice, its collection was justified by the fact that it would increase
both the singularity and the power of the nganga.
Finally, the circumstances in which certain elements are discovered may
also contribute to enriching the nganga’s biography. The paleros are thus
inexhaustible when it comes to recounting the adventures that led them to
find a particular item. And this is especially true regarding the matari, the
stone that encloses the ‘soul’ of the mpungu, that they can search for over
many years. When the palero communicates the singular events that took
place during the discovery of materials, he strengthens the reputation of
the object enclosing them. The nganga is not just an artefact made through
technical work; it is also the result of a personal history, of the journey the
palero took to create it.

The upper level: the nganga’s agency

What we call the upper level is the visible part of the nganga. And since
it is on public display, it reveals the information its creators wish to transmit.
The object can convey various messages to the viewer, such as fighting spirit
and strength, which are revealed in particular by all the iron items. For a
Sarabanda nganga, the deity of metals and war, these are very numerous:
twenty-one horseshoes that are placed around the perimeter of the caul-
dron, seven large nails that are fixed between the sticks, twenty-one small
nails and two knives (mbele) that are pushed vertically into the cauldron,
and a pair of handcuffs laid on the surface. Finally, a heavy padlocked chain,

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 167

with the same length as the height of the owner of the nganga, surrounds
the cauldron. Even the wood elements present in this type of nganga, such
as the seven hooks (garabatos) paleros fitted in between the horseshoes, with
their pointed end facing outward, testify to the danger confronting anyone
approaching the artefact.
Some practitioners try to temper the violence that emerges from their
nganga by adding a crucifix. This then indicates that the palero is dedicated
to the exclusive service of God and of Good. The followers of this branch
of Palo Monte, the paleros cristianos (Christian paleros), refuse the accusa-
tions of black magic linked to the practice of their religion. To prove their
devotion to Good, these paleros therefore increase borrowings from and ref-
erences to the Catholic religion, such as the use of holy water and Christian
iconography in liturgy, or references to Jesus in songs. At the opposite
extreme of the Christian paleros, there are the ‘Jewish’ paleros (paleros
judios), who specialize in evil works of magic. In this case, the ‘Jewishness’
of the nganga has no ritual link with the Jewish religion, it simply serves to
define the opposite or dark pole of a Christian-like practice, and no doubt
reflects the results of missionary evangelization. For these paleros, the use
of Christian symbols is counter-productive and opposed to the principles of
Palo Monte. A crucifix stuck in a nganga will only result to scare the ‘dark
dead man’ (muerto oscuro) and prevent him from ‘working’.
A small precision is necessary here. I have never met any paleros who
used their nganga just for evil purposes – this would unnecessarily deprive
them of the beneficial effects of their cauldron, and it would be in total con-
tradiction with their pragmatism. Also, many paleros who call themselves
Christians don’t hesitate to perform love magic, the purpose of which is to
force a person to fall in love with another. They also don’t hesitate to save
their loved ones through works of magic, such as the cambio de vida, literally
‘life changing’, which means transferring the vital energy of a healthy person
to a sick or dying one – in other words, magically killing the former in order
to save the latter. The indigenous categories of ‘Christian’ and ‘Jew’ are
mainly used to claim a particular religious status. Those who declare them-
selves ‘Christians’ actually state their moral posture by showing sympathy
for Christian values. According to a similar, yet converse, logic, those who
claim that they have a ‘Jewish’ nganga – because the nganga also inherits the
Jewishness or Christianity of its owner – reinforce their status as witches,
as dangerous beings capable of everything, and who are therefore powerful.
These categories must therefore be apprehended as categories of identity; in
reality, «the majority of paleros do both evil and beneficial “works”», accord-
ing to the paleros themselves.

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In the upper compartment of the nganga, the two mpakas, its ‘eyes’ – or in
Kikongo, the vititi-mensu – figure prominently. These are two ox horns, which
are filled with the same ingredients as the nganga and the ends of which are
sealed with pieces of mirror. The palero uses them as ‘magical binoculars’: he
puts his eyes on the mirror side to make predictions, as if he were looking
through the nfumbi’s eyes. But the mpakas can also replace the nganga should
the palero have to perform a trabajo (work) far from his sanctuary, in a hospital
or in a prison, for example. The mpakas are massive and visually impressive,
thus reproducing and carrying the expressive force of the nganga. They are
easily recognized as a purely Palo Monte element: the horn is a ‘primitive’ ele-
ment associated with the idea of wild Africa, full of sorcery and natural forces.
The upper part of the nganga is also the place that gives the strongest
indication of its affiliation to the living world. Its surface is constantly
oozing, denoting its vitality, as moisture is characteristic of the living. This
humidity is maintained by the liquids the nganga ‘drinks’, such as rum,
honey, white wine, and sacrificial blood, or by the loss of matter during the
decomposition of sacrificed animals. The effect is amplified by the emana-
tion of a nauseating smell that follows each splash of liquid: «when we blow
rum on a nganga, it is the smell of its blood that spurts out», said one palero.

History through materiality: the nganga as organic archive

The upper level of the nganga is also the ‘historical’ one. Unlike the other
two levels, which are invariable, this part can change; its volume increases
according to the elements that paleros put in during rituals and works of
magic. In a way, this part of the cauldron serves as a register for the com-
munity because it systematically includes traces of all the members of the
initiatory group and the memory of all rites (initiations, ngangas’s birthdays,
the making of new ngangas) and magical operations carried out within the
religious family.
The nganga is a container that encloses the identity of each member of
the initiatory group because they all shed their own blood during their
initiation. This gesture that practitioners call making a ‘pact with dead
man’ (pacto con el muerto) is an extreme mark of fraternization and aims
to establish intimacy, an organic relationship between practitioners and
the nfumbi of the cauldron. During the initiation ritual, the neophyte is
scarified on different parts of his body (chest, hands, feet, shoulder blade,
forehead, tongue). The blood escaping from his/her wounds is wiped with
pieces of cotton, which are put on the surface of the object. This has pro-
found implications that go beyond the mere symbolic account of a union
between the living and the dead. Paleros say that the smell of their blood is a

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constant reminder of their existence for the nfumbi. The senses of the spirit
are henceforth marked by an indelible trace of the palero’s identity, so that
it can locate him anytime and anywhere. But this marking is double-edged:
the worshipper has his nganga’s constant protection, but if he fails in his
ritual obligations, he can hardly hope to escape his nfumbi’s anger. One of
my palero interlocutors stated: «he who betrays the cauldron dies».
To take the comparison between the nganga and a civilian state register
even further, I am tempted to say that this object is a kind of birth certificate
for the palero. During his/her initiation, the nganga receives his blood – a key
marker of identity – as well as the blood of all members of the group who
act as witnesses to the new palero’s ritual birth, while the initiator’s knife
records the neophyte’s entry into the world of Palo Monte with a permanent
scar. The nganga embodies the most legitimate place for preserving the iden-
tity of those who chose to join Palo Monte, precisely because it lies between
the world of the living and the world of the dead.
This compartment of the nganga also brings to light the group’s recent
history. A glance at its surface offers an account of the religious activity of
the community formed around the object. Among the traces that can be
identified, there are organic ritual remnants, the blood and parts of sacri-
ficed animals (feathers, legs, testicles, and heads) that are left there to rot
and dry out. After a period defined by divination (which can vary from 14
to 40 days), the most voluminous parts, such as goats’ heads, are removed
but all organic materials remain on the nganga until they have completely
decomposed. The effect that these offerings have on the volume and shape
of the nganga varies substantially from sanctuary to sanctuary, depending
on the tradition of the religious family or the tastes of its owners. In some
cuartos of fundamento (sanctuaries), the mass of offerings is such that, as
time goes by, the ngangas’ volume increases considerably. This was the case,
for example, for Gerardo, whose gigantic nganga occupied almost the entire
room. This palero was used to letting whole animals rot in the cauldron. In
other groups, the offerings are more modest and organic matter decomposes
almost entirely so that the volume of the nganga does not change signif-
icantly but, even in those cases, its appearance changes: some feathers, a
skull, or a dried lizard, for example, will come to enrich the surface of the
cauldron, year in year out. And, in all cases, the morphological changes that
the cauldron undergoes reflect the group’s trajectory, offering an account
of its longevity, of how successful it is, of whether it has been abandoned
over time. Vision is not the only sense through which observers can access
the object’s history. Smell is also a valuable indicator. Stimulated by exhala-
tions of blood, rum, food offerings, and other beverages and liquids, it can

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 170 KATERINA KERESTETZI

provide information about the activity of the initiatory group. For paleros,
access to the group’s older history can also be sensed through the object’s
weight. As an old palero from Cienfuegos said, «it is impossible to lift an old
nganga due to all the blood and sacrifices it contains».
There is another category of visible objects that mount up at the surface
or at the foot of the cauldron: small anthropomorphic dolls, made of cloth
or plastic, and all sort of packages, made of paper and cardboard, little bags
made of animal skin, coconuts filled with various substances… These are
the preparations for works of magic, whether for healing or vengeance and
retribution. They are prepared by the owner of the nganga to ensure the
well-being of a client, a relative, or an initiate. Unlike ritual remains, these
objects do not indicate a past event but an action in progress. They lay on
the nganga for a while, until the expected effect occurs. Their abundance is
a good indicator of the reputation of the owner of the nganga and possibly
of his prosperity, if he is paid for his works. To do these trabajos, the palero
makes small packages or anything that can be used as a container, fills them
with various substances (pulverized tree sticks, hair, insects, honey, names
written on paper, etc.), and puts them at the top of the cauldron so that the
nfumbi can become familiarized with their content and informed about
its task. Unlike the remnants of ritual activity, nobler by definition, these
packages are made of airtight materials (cardboard, paper, plastic) and do
not mix with or soak up the nganga’s other constituents, as ritual remains
do. Their salience is a constant reminder of the object’s magic power. They
are tangible proof of the owner’s exploits, which are gratifying for him and
for his initiates. But they are also another form of testimony to the nganga’s
vitality. All these packages containing the names, and often the personal
objects, of clients or of their targets, such as clothes imbued with sweat or
fingernails, show that this motionless object is the seat of important activity:
it can smell, recognize, read, and understand, therefore it is alive.
Finally, the group’s history is inscribed vertically in the materiality of the
nganga: the elements added after every ritual form overlapping layers such
that by starting from the bottom layer and working upwards towards the
surface, the whole calendar of events that took place within the group can
be identified. The size of the nganga is proportional to the acts performed
by the group and its shape depends closely on real events. In this sense, the
nganga is a kind of organic archive that carefully records the group’s history
and it is also the mirror of its magical and religious activity. It is a collective
body in continual growth and the way in which its shape evolves reflects the
dynamics of the group. For the members of the religious community, the
nganga is thus a visible identity marker that is permanently being updated.

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 MAKING A NGANGA, BEGETTING A GOD 171

This recalls Michèle Coquet’s analysis26 of the didiro ritual objects of the
Bwaba, which are composed of an unchanging part, which the author calls
the ‘core’, and of a changing part, referred to as the ‘envelope’:
The act of envelopment appears as a sign, among other possible signs, of an act of
enunciation by the blacksmith group that recognizes itself as an ‘I’ (in actual fact,
a ‘we’, which is an ‘I expanded’, to use Benveniste’s terms) (…). The subject of the
enunciation, the clan group, splits in two: by the enveloping act, it asserts itself both
as an autonomous individual subject with its own identity, revealed by this core
which is a synthetic image of its own particular history, and as a subject belonging
to a larger group, the whole community27.

Material kinship
Like all living beings, ngangas are brought into the world. And like living
beings, they can have children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, who
together form a ritual lineage, the rama. The nganga, «like any other person,
lives with a family, lives in society, and also has a biography»28. As we have
already seen, the nganga’s birth certificate, is signed the instant its future
owner sheds his blood on what was until then just an assembly of scattered
forces without order and without life. If the palero later becomes deeply
committed to Palo Monte practice and gathers a community of believers
around him, the first blood that he shed into the cauldron will mark the
initial event of the constitution of the initiatory group. In Palo Monte, it is
therefore not a myth that marks the origin of the group but rather a non-nar-
rative historical event, of a material and tangible nature. And it is extremely
significant that the most important event in the paleros’ ritual calendar is the
cumplimiento, the annual ceremony honouring ngangas, which usually takes
place on the anniversary of their birth. When the nganga’s first owner dies,
the religious community does not vanish with him given that the nganga is
virtually immortal and can choose a new owner. However, should the ngan-
ga disappear with him – when this is the case, it usually chooses to continue
its ‘life’ at the bottom of the sea, in a hole beneath a forest tree, or in the
darkness of a river – it will have previously given birth to other ngangas, who
will ensure the continuity of the community.

26
  M. Coquet, Une esthétique du fétiche (Bwaba du Burkina Faso), «Systèmes de pensée
en Afrique noire», VIII (1987), pp. 111-140.
27
  Ibidem, pp. 130-131.
28
 J. James Figarola, La Brujería Cubana: El Palo Monte, Aproximación al Pensamiento
Abstracto de la Cubania, Santiago de Cuba, Editorial Oriente.

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The unity of lineage is based on the material kinship of each of its mem-
bers with a mother-nganga. This first nganga, which gave birth to all the oth-
ers, is called the ‘trunk’ (tronco). For it to have any value, it must have been
created by an African and specifically by a Kongo. The ancient kingdom of
Kongo is considered by paleros to be the place of origin of Palo Monte, its
holy land as it were, «the land of all mysteries, and of the true religion» as
they say. Nature and spirits are more powerful there. In order to inherit this
power, and to assert their group’s legitimacy, Cubans must firmly establish
their nganga-trunk’s link with Africa. The cauldron’s kinship with Africa is
transmitted to all members of the group who are considered its sons.
At the foundation of this original nganga and its subsequent lineage, there
is a particular material element that differentiates it from other ngangas. As
we saw earlier, Jorge’s nganga belonged to a rama with the mayimbe – the
Cuban vulture particularly revered by paleros – as its emblem. Part of this
bird, or something symbolizing it, must be incorporated into the ngangas of
Jorge’s initiates, just like the nganga of his initiator, and his initiator’s initia-
tor, and so forth. Here this “hereditary material” represents ritual kinship
and, more specifically, ritual ascendance.

Final remarks
Retracing the nganga’s materiality has revealed the logic underpinning
‘god making’ in Palo Monte practice, beginning with its practitioners’ desire
to create a unique being. This desire becomes the rule of conduct for mak-
ing a nganga and is expressed in the very special way in which the various
components are combined into the cauldron but also in the way they are
chosen and collected. All elements included in a nganga are special in some
way, whether it is due to their appearance, their exceptional status, or the
singular story of how they were discovered. Unpacking the nganga-making
process also showed that, despite its messy appearance, this artefact is
based on a carefully established structure. Every element that inserted into
this god-object denotes power but these elements are not merely inserted
according to a principle of accumulation. The synergy of all the different
elements’ inherent powers is directed in a centripetal manner to serve one
goal alone: maximizing the nfumbi’s power.
The nfumbi endows the nganga with humanity and particularly with
a face that paleros can use to represent the divine being with which they
interact daily. The risks they take to exhume the dead man’s remains and
the care that they take in tracing the biography of their nfumbi enhance the
nganga’s personification and make communication easier: the palero finds a
common ground with this human-like god in order to converse with it. But

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while the human element is preserved inside, there is nothing in the nganga’s
morphology that reminds us of a person. In order to amaze and enchant,
the palero’s god has taken his distance from all things human and indeed
from all known beings, by adopting a hybrid form encompassing man, spirit,
object, animal, and plant.
This hybridity does not merely rely on the assembly of heterogeneous
substances contained in the cauldron. The palero’s god is also a combination
of places and symbols, and a web of actors, both human and non-human.
It includes, for example, earth from 21 places, it contains the blood of each
member of the religious community, and it is materially connected with all
the ngangas that preceded it.
The nganga does not merely transcend different ontological categories, it
also blurs common oppositions, for example between living and dead, mate-
rial and immaterial, sacred and profane. It is a living being but its main com-
ponent is a dead man; it overflows with materiality but its body represents
an invisible being; its word is infallible but its personality is drawn from
the history of an ordinary person. As a chimerical, and unclassifiable being,
the nganga seems to draw its effectiveness and power from the cognitive
disturbances that it arouses. It would be easy to continue enumerating the
countless contradictions of this god-object, but let us rather emphasize one
of the most remarkable among them: on the one hand, the nganga’s physical
appearance causes both fright and enchantment; aesthetically, it creates an
impression of transgression, violence, and mystery all at once. On the other
hand, having the personality of an ordinary human, it generates affectionate,
friendly, and ‘profane’ feelings.
Focusing on the materiality of the nganga has revealed the different stag-
es leading to the creation of a god. However, this article has only outlined
the initial conditions for this process. The story of nganga making does not
stop here. Immediately after its creation, it is still nothing but an instrument
in the palero’s hands. To become ‘divine’, the nganga has to acquire a his-
tory. It is only with time that it will become sacred, with all the victories it
will win, all the wisdom it will lavish on paleros, and all the enemies it will
defeat. The ‘sacralization’ of a nganga is a lifelong work in progress. And this
sits well with the paleros’ pragmatism and scepticism. Paleros are not content
with holding abstract beliefs, but instead constantly put men and gods to
the test: we have to «see to believe!» they say, following in the footsteps of
doubting Saint-Thomas.

Katerina Kerestetzi
CNRS-Laboratoire d’anthropologie sociale

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