In Santeria, my orisha is Chango, one of the guerreros or warriors. His colours are red and white like Santa Barbara, he wields metal weapons and is often depicted with lightning. He is often thought of as a virile–a Casanova and all that is mean. Why are those synonymous in Cuba? Or Anywhere? But that’s not how I identify with him. Each orisha has many paths that they can take, and ways you can be like them. I like that when syncretized with Catholicism, Chango has some gender–bending, and his tendency to mete out divine justice.
I have a strong sense of Justice. Whatever is good and fair compels me, regardless of how it favors or whether it directly affects me, which sometimes confuses others. It isn’t as noble as it seems, and can often be annoying, like a compulsion. You see for me, the absence of truth, facts and fairness is offensive. Facts and justice are my religion, so it effects me whether the disservice concerns me or not.
I greatly dislike situations like this one, where there is no right answer. The writer in me thrives on ambiguity and grey area, but ethically it makes me uneasy in daily life. There’s just so much we can’t make sense of, from child labour to servitude that borders on slavery, the attention we receive from men as well as our very presence here.
Even if there is no right answer for everyone, I like to at least have my own rules, my own personal sense of what’s best. that’s the beauty of Chango–he delivers his own swift justice, not anyone else’s. My fiery Chango is down to its embers when I can neither come to grips with a situation nor make it right.