Nothing is, as it ever seems, especially in the spirit world of the Gnawa. Untrained eyes like mine are easily fooled, seduced by acquired intellectual knowledge and a passion for the form. I have seen and heard only what a handful of Westerners have ever witnessed. And yet, what I know is a mere drop of sweat. The one who says he knows, knows nothing, my Teacher used to say.
These past few days in Marrakech have been everything I could have wished for: I set up a trap for myself, I fell in it and when I got out of it, I found a new door. As I write these words I am slowly opening it. What lies beyond its threshold is a hidden world, a place that only exists within the very distinct realm of actively participating in a Lila, the Gnawa ritual of Spirit Possession. This is where the real knowledge lies. In the making. Everything else is an intellectual exercise. Nothing wrong with that either. By now I have a feeling that my intricate and baroque mind games are nothing more, nothing less than the shovel that digs the trap I will eventually fall into. Such a complicated process just to dig a simple hole!
The Lilla I witnessed had everything I was looking for. The good, the bad and the ugly. It was a fascinating mirror of the tensions that live under the surface of modern Gnawa culture.
More to come....
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1 comment:
The intensity of Lila is reflected in your prose. The pace is changed now. It sounds good.
Mind where you put the dirt when you dig that hole, my friend. Best wishes for your continued adventure through the Doors of Marrakech. Much love to you and your journey.
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