Meeting a Voodoo priestess in New Orleans

It took some effort to connect with Priestess Miriam. When we arrived in the morning at the Voudon temple near the center of New Orleans, she was busy, even though we had an appointment.

“Come later,” she said. “I’m busy now.”

My son and I had planned this trip for months. We had flown to Houston and rented a car there; our plan being to travel across the South for two weeks.

We returned at noon, but the priestess couldn’t meet us. “Later” she shouted from the back. What did “later” mean? Time seemed to be a fluid concept for the priestess.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” commented my son.

I shrugged my shoulders. We spent the day sightseeing and, finally, at four-thirty in the afternoon, gave it one more shot.

“Alright, come in,” she said. She didn’t seem particularly welcoming. The priestess was past middle-age, with dark walnut cheeks, grey hair tied with a red bandana, and wore a white gown. The front of the temple contained a store, stuffed with various charms, liquids and herbs—traditionally called gris-gris, all necessary for the practice of Voudon. In the back was a large room, filled with an incredible number of knick-knacks—African masks, statues of the Virgin Mary, tie-died Hindu Deities and Tibetan Thankas. It was certainly an eclectic collection. She sat on a large seat while we occupied a small sofa in front.

“What do you want?” she questioned, getting to the point quickly.

“What is Voudon about?” I asked.

"It’s about healing. About allowing one to heal one-self.” She explained its history. “The English were not the only ones involved in the slave trade. The French also imported slaves to the Americas. But the difference was this: according to French laws, children were not separated from parents at an early age. Therefore, many African customs were transmitted to slave children, unlike in the rest of America. So Voudon became prevalent in Haiti and New Orleans.”

The old lady became more open as the evening progressed, as did we. The conversation took many turns: historical, social and even personal. I expressed my satisfaction of my travels with my son. She talked about the history of Louisiana, of New Orleans and the temple.

“The negative image of Voudon comes from Hollywood and sensational novels. They make it out to be something dark. But it is nothing more than the spiritual practices of West Africa, still practiced by over thirty million people—the Fon, Mandika and Bambra. However, over time, North American Voudon has become somewhat different.”

As she talked, she relaxed as did my son and I. Most of her visitors came for personal help: dealing with broken relationships and hurt. She healed and, in that, lay her power.

Finally, it was time to head out. I looked at my watch. It was eight-thirty.

As we said our goodbyes, she reached over to one of the shelves in the store. “This gris-gris contains some herbs. They purify the spirit. Please take it.”

We accepted the gift with gratitude. Maybe one day, we will be able to visit Priestess Miriam again.

Please read about this episode and others in Mohan Ashtakala’s new release, “Karma Nation.” www.mohanashtakala.com . 

Published by Books We Love: http://bookswelove.com/authors/ashtakala-mohan-fantasy/