Celia’s perfumeria looks like an alchemist’s laboratory. The shelves are lined with ancient bottles of sticky-looking liquids that are labelled with handwritten notes such as ‘Happiness’, ‘Love’, ‘Luck’, ‘Triumph’ and ‘Door Opener’. There are statues of Maria Lionza, Guaicaipuro, Negro Felipe – even one of Erik the Red, a 10th-century Norwegian Viking who has been incorporated into the cult.
As we talk, a stream of customers flows in and out, handing over recipes hastily scribbled on scraps of paper. Celia takes their orders and mixes up concoctions behind the counter. People use them as perfumes or put them in their baths, hoping they will bring them luck, love or happiness.
‘That woman who just came in is the manager of the local bank,’ whispers Blanco. I ask a man who walks in if he practices Christianity. ‘Of course,’ he says. ‘But this potion will bring me luck. I’ve been coming here for more than twenty years.’
There are dozens of perfumerias like Blanco’s all over Caracas and in many other Venezuelan towns, and people regularly hold séances in their homes. But the heart of the religion is based on Sorte, a mountain some 300 kilometres west of Caracas. It is here that Maria Lionza is believed to have disappeared into the forest after she was ostracised by her tribe.
There is little written history of the roots of the cult, but the most common version of the Maria Lionza legend is that she was born with the name Yara into an indigenous tribe in the state of Yaracuy. Her luminous white skin and striking green eyes set her apart and her tribe believed she was the fulfilment of a prophecy that would destroy all the villages in the region.
Her father sent her off to Sorte to live in the forest where she disappeared, never to be seen again. But locals swear she can often be spotted riding a tapir in Sorte’s forests.
Her name was later changed to Maria de la Onza by the Catholic Church in a bid to subsume the cult by comparing her to the Virgin Mary. An onza was a mountain lion that could be confused with the tapir. The name was later shortened to Maria Lionza.
Every weekend marialionzeros come to Sorte to practice their rituals. Important gatherings take place in December and at Easter time. However, the largest event of the year occurs on October 12 when Venezuela celebrates the Day of Indigenous Resistance (Columbus Day in most other countries). Thousands of devotees from all over Venezuela and other Latin American countries make the pilgrimage to the mountain, which is now a national park. Entire families arrive up to two weeks before the festival to reserve camping space. They set up camp in the forest, marking out their space with lengths of string tied between the trees.
As we arrive at the mountain on a drizzly Saturday, a cloud hangs above the tree line. It’s probably mist, but we wonder if it could be cigar smoke. Everywhere we walk there are people chomping on Cuban cigars – followers make interpretations from the way the ash forms. Each camp has set up an altar, often propped against a tree. They are set up as ‘courts’, with an effigy of Maria Lionza at the pinnacle, flanked by Negro Felipe and Guaicaipuro. There are dozens of courts, including a medical court, led by the effigy of José Gregorio Hernández, a revered doctor who treated the poor for free, and a political court with a statue of Simón Bolívar, the ‘Liberator’ of South America. There are also beer and rum bottles, cigarettes, knives, candles, even Stetson hats. It is believed there are up to 400 of these altars on the mountain.
Comments are closed.