In the Bijagós archipelago (Guinea-Bissau) the tradition of fanado
Text and photos Sara Martin, from Canhabaque (Guinea-Bissau)
The tradition of fanadowhich remains very much alive on the islands of Bijagós (Guinea-Bissau), is a ceremony of passage into adulthood. Adult men participate in it and, through this practice, reach the highest possible degree of wisdom. The author has experienced the ceremony on the island of Canhabaque.
At the end of March I returned to the island of Canhabaque (Konha), one of the 88 that make up the reserve of the Bijagós archipelago (Guinea-Bissau). It had been just a year since I had set foot on the island, and I was invited to spend a few days with my family in the village of Endena.
Nené, a woman I have known for two years, as soon as she saw me, she told me:
–Sara, nha home na bai fanado.
Those words pierced me. After two years of coming and going from Madrid, a year ago I decided to stay and live in the archipelago. It has been an intense and beautiful process of listening, adaptation and learning. Over time I have gotten to know people, families, community dynamics and, little by little, also the Creole language.
Thanks to this I was able to understand not only the literal meaning of Nené’s words, but also the deep emotion from which she pronounced them. There is no literal translation, but what Nené wanted to tell me was that her 30-year marriage was coming to an end, not because of disagreements, but for cultural and traditional reasons.
He fanado It is the last and highest stage within the bijagó society. Although there is also a female version, in this case it was men who would enter the jungle to reach the highest degree of wisdom. This phase is preceded by another, called dugand only those who have completed this stage are ready for thefanado
The island of Canhabaque is probably the one that most firmly maintains its traditions. It was one of the regions most resistant to Portuguese colonial domination and to the idea of what the West understands as progress. Their culture is closely linked to the brutality and exuberance of nature, where survival is a daily reality and living conditions are extreme.
This archipelago – and in particular this island – maintains its traditions and social structures while living in a profound disconnection from the political and administrative powers of the State. Each village or tabanka It has its own governance – the traditional powers – with its rules, organizational structures and social hierarchies, where the older men – the elders – are the most respected, since most of them have gone through all the traditional, spiritual, ancestral and cultural ceremonies, which culminate with the fanado.
The transmission of culture occurs, above all, from the elderly to the youngest. They are the ones who treasure the spiritual, medicinal and organizational knowledge of the community. But this knowledge is not offered for free, but it is necessary to deserve it. The youngest must show respect, patience, humility and, above all, generosity towards the elderly. This generosity – which can manifest itself in the form of offerings, care, listening or service – functions as a kind of currency, a necessary gesture so that ancestral knowledge can be shared and perpetuated.
A topic on the table
During the month of March, on the island of Bubaque, where I live, all they talked about was fanado of the tabanka –or village– of Endena and that the time would soon come for the streamthe entrance to the jungle.
For several days, families and friends gather and prepare in the tabanka, and this is immersed in a different energy. They are emotional and sad days in which they say that it is women who mourn their husbands because, from that moment on, they will never exchange a single word with them again. But the reality is that throughout the tabanka we cry: mothers and fathers, cousins and cousins, sisters and brothers, daughters and sons.
The men who enter this stage are between 35 and 60 years old, and for three months they are visited and guided by the island’s elders. Not everyone manages to survive. After those three months, they are transferred to a barrack near the tabankawhere they remain for seven more years, without having any contact with women. It is a drastic break from one’s previous life: a true rebirth that involves a new name, a new family, and a new role within the community.
What happens in these ceremonies is of a dimension that combines the sacred and the secret. There are elements of this experience that will never be revealed or photographed. Nobody knows what happens during this period. Sometimes it happens that not everyone who attends returns. Some die.
For centuries, the fanado It was an unquestionable stage: everyone had to go through it. Today, however, not all those who participate do so of their own free will. Some are chosen by the community. There are those who accept this destiny with serenity and others who experience it as a burden, facing enormous social pressure crossed by deep-rooted values such as manhood – understood as a demonstration of strength, maturity and masculine honor – and the fear of being seen as a threat to the balance of the group.
To this day, resisting going is not only perceived as a personal decision, but can also be interpreted as a betrayal of identity and collective values. In a social structure where everything is sustained by the community, making a decision that is not aligned with the needs or expectations of the village can be interpreted as a cowardly act that questions tradition, which relegates that man to not being heard in important community meetings.
The new generations are fighting so that the elders, who are responsible for keeping the tradition alive, also accept the possibility of maintaining the relationship with the wife after completing the fanado.
The process
I traveled on April 2 and stream It had been scheduled for the next day. During these 24 hours, families gather tools and other goods such as rice, peanuts, liquor, wine and also, in some cases, a young goat. They must shave their entire body, including their head, and wear campendea clothing made with the fiber of a tree with which traditional women’s skirts are also made.
The days before my arrival, Nené and Papa had prepared a room for me. The second day, when I woke up, I saw that Papa’s head was being shaved and he was already dressed campendewhile Nené swallowed her anguish. A lump formed in my throat.
I left the room and Dad, seeing me, smiled at me and said:
–Won’t you say good morning to me today?
He started laughing and hugged me. Between laughter and tears I greeted him.
There was no turning back. They all spent the afternoon sitting in what would become the village square, fanned and fed by their wives. That night they slept in the middle of the street, outdoors. The women fed them oyster soup and cockles with noodles, an excellent carbohydrate combination ideal for what was coming to them.
These supposed 24 hours were extended to more than 48 due to tension and nervousness disguised as fainting and tachycardia.
Nené cried and swallowed her tears discreetly, without taking her eyes off her husband. The excitement increased. As a result of the health status of three of the participants – they were hospitalized – Papa had risen in rank: he was now chosen to carry the torch and guide the others to the entrance of the jungle.
Sacred drums echoing, traditional dances, fire and crying. At around 6:30 p.m. the streamwith Papa in front, followed by the rest. We all ran in a single direction, without looking back, until, at a marked point, they stopped us, while they continued until we lost sight of them. Everything wrapped in a dense cloud of dust, we returned to the tabankasilently chewing the mixture of tears and resignation.
A few weeks earlier, when Papa and Nené invited me to attend, I sat with my camera and recorded a conversation between the three of us.
Nené told me that she is not from Canhabaque. She belongs to another island and moved there for her marriage. There are things you don’t dare ask out of respect and simply assume. Curiosity is frowned upon. It could be the case that she was no longer needed in the family and she would have to return to her land, Djiu or Galinhas Island.
“The land of the bijagós is supported and sustained by the bijagós themselves,” says Papa emphatically. For him, belonging to this culture is a source of pride. Tradition is a pillar that gives meaning to your life. In his family everyone has been through it fanado: grandmothers, fathers, mothers. All. Not doing so is staying on the sidelines, which is why you are displaced. You will never have a voice in important meetings or be taken into account in community decisions.
After completing this period, back in the tabanka, “You may meet another woman,” he says, “and she another man.” With other forms, other ideas. There are those who experience this new stage as something full of beauty, with openness, sharing from generosity, while there are others who do not like to be touched by what they consider theirs. It’s like that. Everyone takes it as best they can. But the truth is that we return being others.
The Bijagós were declared a Biosphere Reserve by UNESCO in 1996, not only for their ecological value, but also for the conservation of these ways of life and traditions that embody a cultural resistance in the face of global homogenization, colonialism and the pressure of tourism.
