The Response Not Given

When the question came, the writing was on the wall.
Been here and heard that. Never goes well.

"So what is your religion?"

Figured I'd make the answer last long enough to finish dinner. I was feelin' the chicken, I was hungry and since I was paying I thought I'd at least get to enjoy the meal. After swallowing I said:

"Ifa." and got to another piece. I knew what the next few questions would be:

What's that?
The who?
Where?

And the inevitable: "Is that voodoo?"

Always find that question the funniest. After all if that was what it was, I would have said so. But all folk know about African religion is what they got from Chucky, Tarzan movies, occasional episodes of Law and Order and sermons from people who don't know of what they speak but who's word is taken at face value. Or the occasional Nigerian priest who odds are goes to see the Ifa priest when HE has issues. Yeah it's been reported.

So I endeavor to explain that Voodun is a combination of Ifa, the religion of the Yoruba, The traditional religion of the Ngola of what we consider modern day Angola and Catholicism. And that's not me. It's taken different forms in different countries where Africans populated with varying levels of mixture. In short there are a number of "Vodoos" (Santeria, Palo, Candomble, Shango Baptists in Trinindad, etc.) and I ascribe to none.

This. This is the point where confused looks abound. Any teacher would be familiar with that look on students. It's the WTF look that students get when first confronted with say, algebra or calculus. So many unknowns. X,Y, N, whaaat?

Ordering dessert, a piece of chocolate cake, your next question came as expected: "So what do you believe?"

"One God. Many messengers. No Devil."

"No what?"

"No Devil. No hell underground. No character behind the scene to blame for 'tempting' you to do anything. You do it 'cause you chose to. It's your responsibility, good or ill."

Trust me; this is not a conversation I was looking to have. Particularly on a first date. For some reason I feel compelled to answer questions and I've yet to master the art of shallow or deceptive conversation. I'd make a bad spy. Get caught, spill beans.

Anyway this would not be the low point of this part of the conversation 'cause out in the parking lot while attempting to dodge light raindrops came the coup de grace:

"So you guys, like, sacrifice animals?"

This was going to be "good."

"It's done."

"That is so barbaric." Slipped from her lips. Easy. Unforced. Almost reflexive.

Wow. I believe I was called a barbarian.

Started having flashes of English missionaries with branding irons passing judgment on Ngolans and breaking promises of not enslaving those who accepted Christ. That was barbaric, but I suppose the evil one does under a "legitimate" religion is somehow more civilized. But I said nothing and just walked you to your vehicle. But what I shoulda said was:

When your momma was pregnant with you did she have a party?
When you were born and came home was there a party of any kind?
When you were presented at church was there a party of any kind?
And when you got baptized did you have any kind of celebration?
When you get engaged will there be a party of any kind?
When you get married will there be a ceremony or party of any kind?
And when you die will there be a ceremony or party of any kind?

Really?

And at this party will there be food? Meat per-chance?

Yeah?

And just how do you think that meat got there? You think the meat fairy just makes the meat show up like a replicator in Star Trek? How, pray tell do you think that meat got to the supermarket?

I mean, you DO know that at some cattle farm somewhere a cow was lead to a stall where a metal shank was thrust between his or her eyes resulting in immediate brain death? You do know that that cow dropped to the ground far less clean than anything you'd accept on your kitchen counter top. Oh yeah and someone, likely an underpaid immigrant from south of the border, strung up that cow and then slit it's throat so the blood could drain out...all over the floor. Guts cut open to remove the intestines, etc.

And don't think that if you eat chicken that it's much better. wrung necks, chickens floating through the air on conveyor belts like clothes at a laundry drained and plucked, gutted and sliced.

All that before it got to your plate after your "religious event" where long after the killing is done, you complete the "animal sacrifice" by 'blessing" your food. Never thought of it like that did you? You think because you weren't there for the killing that you're not "barbaric"? You pass off the killing to other people and now got your nose in the air tryin' to belittle me?

See it's easy to pass such judgments when you live in a metropolis and food is magically delivered to your supermarket. But think of places, even in the US, where dinner is literally walking around outside. The taking of life is not a big deal, whether it be for dinner or for some ceremony.

Look, unless you're a vegetarian, you really have nothing to say on the subject.

That's what I should have said. Right there and right then. Probably would have gone in one ear and exited the other or been retained in memory long enough to be the subject of "Do you know what he said" conversations with friends and family who will no doubt comfort you by telling you that you dodged a bullet by unhooking this "devil worshiper" who'll probably try to work some "root"on you. or whatever the type of ignorance passes for informed opinion these days.

Instead though I told you to drive carefully and let me know when you got home safely.