Chapter 49: An Unexpected Offer

Tamara looked back at the two women who were waiting expectantly for her to speak. She laughed and shook her head.

“This isn’t gonna be the great reveal, you know,” she chuckled. “I always knew that Peter was special; I could feel it but didn’t know exactly what it was that I was feeling. Manman had given me a hint of it when she told me about how she sensed Dad’s personality when they met. Greta, Mom sensed the characteristics of one of our most important lwa in Dad, Ogorin. That’s another of those spirits who has two sides; in this case, he’s both the warrior and the diplomat. And originally, the Dahomeyan Ogorin was the spirit of blacksmithing—the mechanical technologist. All those characteristics describe Dad perfectly. And Greta, Ogorin is like Thor in many ways—the hammer is a big one of those ways—and he’s a bit like Odin too.

“I was drawn to Peter when I met him. He’s quiet—actually pretty intense. He’s analytical and insightful. His empathy allows him to identify with other people which makes him amenable to seeing their points of view. Of course that empathy got him into serious emotional trouble, as we all know. And then I got to see another side of him—how he interacted with his cousins, many of whom are younger—and with a posse of little vixens at the resort.”

Greta laughed heartily at that and Nadine looked mystified.

“Tell you later about that, Mom,” Tamara told her. “Anyway, I saw something new in him then—a teacher and father figure, someone who could give instruction and correction lovingly and sensitively. I already knew that the lwa had approved of him, Greta, I had done something like your seid ritual and was told by my guardian lwa that Peter had abilities that I could help him to develop. And then he was ‘visited’ by another lwa and was left with a message.”

Now it was Greta who had a mystified look, while Nadine nodded.

Tamara grinned at Greta. “I guess I need to keep a score-card about who knows what,” she giggled. “So the message wasn’t for him; it was for me, but the way it came and involved his getting it too, I could tell that Erzulie considered Peter and me as one single entity, as if we were already married.”

Now both women gasped.

“Yes, in thinking about Erzulie’s visit, that impression is the only one which makes sense. But back to Peter. When I was talking to Manman and Dad back at the motel, I thought about how Manman had sensed that Peter was a spiritual focus; we call it a pwen, and that released a memory or ability that I must have had buried in my mind. That’s when I realized that I could sense, more directly than before, the influence of a spirit on someone’s personality. I know Ogorin’s very well since he’s visited my own self many times and has gifted me a sense of premonition. Dad has that from Ogorin too. But the influence I sense in Peter isn’t as familiar to me since Manman doesn’t call to him in our rituals very often. But I’m sure this lwa has become Peter’s guardian.”

“Mezanmi!” Nadine gasped. “You’re right! I can see that. You see, Greta, in my faith, our observant believers usually have an affinity to the lwa whose aspects best match their own personality; they view that lwa as their guardian spirit. In my case, it’s an extremely important spirit called Papa Legba. He’s the spirit who controls the ‘crosswalks,’ the gateway to the spirit realm, and it’s his power that allows me to commune with the other lwa and to enable my people to approach them. Tamara just alluded to another lwa, one whom I’ve rarely called to, it’s Damballah Wedo; he’s incredibly powerful—the force of creation is in his power—so I always hesitate to ask him to bless us with his presence. Of course I display his vevé in my temple because of his importance. But from what I sensed from Peter, you must be right, Tamara.”

Greta cleared her throat, politely seeking attention. “Damballah? I’m afraid that when I read about Vodou, I didn’t pay much attention to the individual spirit powers. And Papa Legba? That’s very interesting, since in the Norse mythos, it’s Odin who’s the god of the crossroads. Very similar function, actually.”

“Ah, yes,” Tamara said. “There are so many similarities. In the Norse mythos, the world, Midgard, is encircled by Jörmungandr, a serpent who encircles the world in the deep oceans, cast there by Odin to keep him from threatening the gods...”

“You know that?” Greta exclaimed, astonished. “And you recalled it?”

“Of course. Knowledge of the mythologies and religions of the world are vitally important in understanding people’s motivations, desires, and impulses. I do personal and spiritual counseling and find the knowledge very useful.”

“Hmm. When we finish discussing Peter, let’s explore that thought.”

“As you wish. I was exploring why Damballah may well be Peter’s guardian. Um, I brought up the Midgard Serpent. Yes. The snake is a powerful totem in many cultures and that’s also true in the Dahomeyan pantheon. I mentioned Mawu-Lisa before, well, Damballah-Wedo—also called Dan or Danbada-Wedo—is her-his-their son who’s said to have a serpent form. He assisted in the world’s creation and the coils of his body support it. For that reason, the Fon believe that Damballah is the giver of life and sustainer of the world. He’s also the patriarch of the lwa, he’s believed to be the oldest, and a warm, benevolent presence who embodies peace and gentleness.

“The Fon believe him to be a healer; that’s a function of the life-giver, and he’s said to be the embodiment of wisdom and the guardian of all of the facets of wisdom: customs, principles, morals, and all African traditions. So in the Vodou religion, Damballah-Wedo is the serpent spirit. He’s very popular; he’s the father figure. He’s also the embodiment of excellence, and is benevolent, innocent, and a loving father.

“In the limited time I’ve been with Peter, I see many of those characteristics in him. Tamara?”

“Jeez, Mom, you got everything I saw too. Um, you do know that one of Damballah’s wives is Erzulie Fréda? And that Erzulie Fréda is also a wife of Ogorin?”

“Certainly, dear. Lwa family relationships are somewhat complicated.”

Greta laughed. “That’s true of the Norse gods as well. So you believe that Peter’s been accepted by your spirits? Because that would create an interesting linkage between two spirit universes.”

“Um, I believe they are linked already,” Tamara said, smiling. “I mentioned Papa Legba before. He’s Manman’s guardian but likes to keep an eye on me too. I think that I must amuse him or something. He ‘visited’ me a short time ago and found your guardians. He knows all languages, so I’d bet that he’s getting all caught up with the Vikings, just like we are with our earthly affairs.”

Both women laughed.

“What does it mean now that Peter’s been ‘adopted’ by a lwa?” Greta asked, making finger quotes.

“Um, not much, I think,” Tamara said. “He might get some unbidden random thoughts. Dad had a lwa guardian for maybe twenty years before he learned about it. Right, Mom?”

Nadine nodded.

“What do we tell him?” Greta asked.

“I’ll guide him to that knowledge, just like Mom did with Dad,” Tamara told her and she nodded.

“That’s excellent. Now to change the subject totally, Nadine, you mentioned your education as an anthropologist.”

“Well, I had advisors in both sociology and anthropology and my research was on a social topic.”

“What was it, exactly?” Greta asked.

“I was in a doctoral program and my research project was on the transmission of cultural traditions in agrarian societies, from mother to daughter. It covered the moral, social, and spiritual traditions and looked at cultures in Africa, Central America, South America, and some Pacific islands. That research was the subject of my dissertation.”

“You have a doctorate then?” Greta asked.

“Actually, no. My mother’s disappearance interrupted my studies. I had to leave school and return home; most of my savings were spent in trying to locate her. I couldn’t return to complete the degree so they gave me the master’s.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How close were you?”

“The dissertation wasn’t quite complete; I was finalizing it for its submission. So my dissertation defense never happened. I finished it remotely and submitted it to my professor but Universidad de San Juan wanted me to return and register for another term to do the defense but I couldn’t—it was in Puerto Rico and I was in Haiti; going back and forth back then was too expensive. I didn’t have the funds, and I had to earn a living too. I was already a ... well, think of it as an ‘ordained,’ manbo. My little congregation supported me. I didn’t really think about pursuing the university for it; getting the knowledge was more important to me than the diploma.”

“Still, they deprived you of something you earned. The work you did would be invaluable to anthropologists and sociologists—was it ever published?”

“No ... it was in French and I submitted it in French and Spanish and I had used some of my meager funds to have it typed out and the required number of copies mailed to the university.”

“Um, Manman, I got a copy...” Tamara began and the two women looked at her, Nadine in shock.

“What? How?” she began.

“When you said what you wrote it on, back in Haiti when we visited there, I got curious. So in the spring of my first year at college, I got the Hopkins library, the research section, that is, to try to get a copy. It took three months to get Universidad de San Juan to even acknowledge the request. Sheesh! They were such pikers. I paid the copying fee and postage that the Universidad charged. They even wanted to charge a searching fee to find it but the Hopkins staff threatened them by telling them that this was a violation of inter-library cooperation and they’d be blackballed. Still, it took another three months to get the paper copy. You know, the signature page is complete—the committee people all signed off on it, I noticed.”

“So you have a copy of it? Mine was lost, somehow, during my moves,” Nadine said.

“Yep. Plus, during the past year, I translated it to English and made a pdf of the translation, and got it put it in the Sociology Library archives at Hopkins. It’s really quite good. A digital copy of it is on line on the Hopkins website too.”

“You did all that?” Nadine asked incredulously.

“Yes, Manman. When I read the paper, I thought it was valuable work and well done. So when I finished the translating, last spring, I took a copy to a professor in sociology that Barbara had a course with and asked him if the research was useful. He liked it, a whole lot. He wanted to know why it was never published—he said it would be very useful in several of his classes. He’s the one who got it put in the Sociology Library. I was gonna tell you but then all that battery research fuss started up and I got tied up in that and forgot.”

“Do you have the web address for it?” Greta asked.

“Oh sure,” Tamara said and pulled out her cell phone.

She went to her browser and flipped through some screens.

“Okay, I have the bookmark here, let me copy it. Greta, what’s your cell? I’ll text you the link.”

When that was done, Greta continued the conversation.

“It sounds like you were cheated out of that degree, Nadine,” she said. “Let me tell you something now and I hope that you won’t think that this is being forward or preferential. My last trip to Europe with Werner was basically a recruiting trip. President Gerston was asked to serve as the first president of the Columbia Institute of Economics when his term ends. He wants to assemble an international faculty in research areas that will study ways of improving economic conditions in third-world countries. I have two or three anthropology faculty positions to fill and I’m having a very difficult time in finding people with the right credentials. I’m looking for people whose knowledge lies outside the traditional academic anthropology circles which seem to be inbred in the classical viewpoints about cultures.

“Nadine, you’ve impressed me tremendously as far as being very social and a wonderful communicator. Your Haitian background, including your knowledge of their truly stressed economy, gives you even more strength...”

“Wait, Greta ... Are you suggesting you might be interested in me as a possible faculty member? I have no qualifications for that,” Nadine objected.

Greta shook her head. “Actually, if I got this right, you have a terminal degree in anthropology; just the piece of paper stating the degree is missing. Second, you have a terminal degree as a clergy person; you’ve been in practice how many years? About twenty? Much of it dealing with and counseling impoverished people?”

Nadine nodded, speechless.

“And if I understand what Tamara said about your dissertation, the fact that it’s being used in university teaching is yet another qualification. I’ll read it and see, but I’m certain that it will be just fine. Tell me, would you be available to join the faculty at Westphalia if we were to make an offer?”

Tamara had never seen her mother struck speechless. She was now.

“Mom? This is real. I told you so many times how smart you are. Where do you think I got my own smarts from? Surely not Dad?” Tamara laughed and that broke the logjam.

“Tamara! Your dad has awesome smarts!” Nadine said, laughing. “It’s just that I think I’m just an ordinary woman...”

“Mom, you impress everyone you meet, you know. I’ve heard about what they think about you at the VA. And your patients love you too. True, that’s not entirely applicable to a university job, but 75 percent of doing a good faculty job is effective communication.”

“She’s right. That’s so true, Nadine. Well, I guess you need time...” Greta started.

Nadine interrupted, “I certainly would need to talk to Wilson, but, well, truthfully, my work as a manbo somehow has become less fulfilling in the past few years. The neighborhood is changing; it’s becoming more gentrified. My congregation members have been moving away and more transient people have been showing up at worship and they’re not truly committed, so the worship is unsatisfying for most. One of my drummers passed away last year too. Wilson and I have been discussing what to do; his job has lost most of its challenge and he’s gotten antsy about the overcrowding in Miami. That’s what drove him to move to Haiti after he left the Marines. He told me that he could get a job just about anywhere. So, yes, perhaps I would be interested.”

“Excellent,” Greta said. “I’ll read your work and talk to some people. Now we’ve been talking in here too long; let’s go join the rest of the family.”

On the way out, Nadine whispered to Tamara, “What were the ‘vixens’?” and Tamara told her, giggling.

“Oh. That’s funny.”

While the three had been talking in the study, the Richardsons had come in and Wilson was talking to them. Nadine went to them and Wilson introduced her and then resumed his discussion topic with Mason. Wilson had mentioned to Mason and Angela that the family was from Haiti, so Mason had been quizzing him about the country’s political opposition, whose efforts to oust the government had been thwarted.

Tamara watched her dad introducing her mom and then looked for Peter and Barbara; she found them in a deep discussion.

“Hey, Tamara,” Peter said when she came up to them. “That was a pretty intense discussion with Grams and your mom.”

“Yeah, even I could feel it when they greeted each other,” Barbara said. “What was that about?”

Tamara smiled at them. “Our families have a strong link, they learned. Through the spirit world. You know that Greta is an ... um, I guess you could call her an ‘adept,’ okay? She can commune with the spirits. I hope that I’m not breaking her confidence by telling you that.”

Peter sighed and said, “No, she’s open about that but, you know, what we think about magic...”

Barbara interrupted. “Yeah, my folks think her clinging to her Norse heritage is a bit odd, but she’s highly regarded academically. The U.S. president even interviewed her for the anthropology job in the new institute he’ll be running when he leaves office in a year or so.”