Diary of M Lawson

From NexusWiki

The following was found in the unpublished notes of Professor M. Lawson (who was an early scholar of native Meso-American cultures). Apparently, upon his death, a former student of his had his notebooks transcribed and bound. The notes found their way to the University of Georgia library, though M. L. had no connections to that school, and may have since been lost.

... I should not fail to note that I had the fortune of an afternoon with C. [presumably a colleague of the author, though, whose identity remains undetermined] It has been no short time since we have been granted such an opportunity; it seems to be a (most unfortunate) rule that one or the other of us must always be in the field. I cannot understate the pleasure

-- to both mind and spirit

-- I stole from our encounter. His enthusiasm for

-- and insights into

-- my, as yet, more nebulous ideas, served as a great motivator (despite my recent moods). As he has just made a return from a year Haiti, his mind was full of theories of cultural fusion (I now impatiently wait for his promised manuscript on the issue) , as well as, more than a few wonderful stories. After a few drinks, our conversation turned more playful and to the odd stories which are endemic to our profession. I do feel the need to commit to the page one such tale of his

-- for what reason I am not quite sure

-- it is not the most humorous nor pedagogical, perhaps though it is certainly false, it leads to a mental puzzle that one cannot help to consider. Never the matter. My friend told of an relationship he developed with an older gentleman who, though prone to the use of the bottle, was widely regarded in his community for his wisdom and wonderful stories. Is seems after a long interview with this man on local family histories (and likely a few too many sips of "water" by the subject), the man began to softly tell of a "secret"

-- which even very few Haitians had any sense of. He spoke of a "branch" of vodou which is kept in such confidence that, of what he knows of it, it is only by accident. The features he described, however, appeared to be an admixture of traditions even more scattered than the creole blend already found in Haiti. In this tradition, he says, many rituals center on the painting and covering of the body

-- sometimes all skin is covered with white

-- sometimes it is covered in charcoal so as to make the skin lose all "life"

-- sometimes designs are painted all about the individual (seemingly almost Aboriginal Australian in nature). Even stranger, these cultists are reported to demonstrate an almost Muslim fascination with direction; all rituals are preformed with regard to mystical coordinates (deviating from the cardinal directions). With our very sparse information (essentially my friends memory of a hand wave by said gentleman) and using scrap of paper, we attempted a silly estimation of this axis; we found empty water as it went off past the small islands of St. Germane [sic]. The one last bit we are given one thinks has touches of Eastern European superstitions

-- the legend of what can be crudely translated as the "midnight wolf" '

-- but alas we know next nothing of this fearful creature. Certainly we were inebriates falling right into the farce of our inebriated source. But we had the most wonderful time constructing the most fantastical theories to fit these cultural syntheses. ...