Chapter 1
Folksongs (Banya, Du, Laku, and Lobinsingi)

In Creole society songs can be tender or humorous, but they can also be used as deadly weapons. Street concerts in Surinam's capital, Paramaribo, have been responsible for bitter fights in the past, and Surinam is possibly one of the few places in the world where concerts have been repeatedly forbidden by law. In a government proclamation of 19 November 1828 the so-called Du societies (for dance and song) were forbidden in Paramaribo and other parts of the country. Free people who were caught at a performance were subject to a fine of 200 florins. Slaves received a hundred strokes and a fine that their masters were expected to pay. This proclamation was repeated on 21 May 1833 (Encyclopaedie, s.v. Dansen). Around 1900 the police temporarily stopped all lobisingi (‘love song’) performances in Paramaribo (Comvalius 1939:358), and one still has to ask for police permission for a performance of this type.1 In an excellent description of the lobisingi, Herskovits characterized it as ‘an established form of social criticism by ridicule [bearing] particularly on the reprehensible conduct of women’ (Herskovits 1936:23).

Songs provided almost the only outlets for interpersonal tension. The social hierarchy on the plantation did not permit direct criticism of superiors (especially whites), and the plantation slaves constituted such an isolated, close community that open rivalry was well-nigh impossible. Indirect, symbolic criticism may also be reflected in the material culture of the Creoles. The choice of a kerchief and the way it is bound around the head may convey a message (Herskovits 1936:3-9). Market women continue to give to newly imported kerchiefs names that may reflect political or social issues in the community.2

Songs, however, are more powerful and can really hurt someone, as we have witnessed on several occasions.

During the time of slavery, New Year's Day and the first of July were fixed occasions of celebration, when the rations were brought in from town and distributed among the slaves. It was possible to create other special occasions, for example at the end of harvest time, and by some unwritten law or agreement slaves were then allowed to dance.3 Cancellation of one of these occasions was regarded as one of the heaviest punishments.

White observers were apparently not sufficiently interested to give accurate descriptions of this type of slave festivity. The earliest account in print is found in the Essai historique sur la colonie de Surinam of 1788. The best description was by H.C. Focke, a colored lawyer (Focke 1858). Drawings also provide some information.

The dances and songs were often composed, rehearsed, and executed in special societies called Du, a name no longer in existence. It was mentioned for the first time in the Essai historique. Comvalius ventures the hypothesis that there is a relation between the terms banya and du (Comvalius 1935/36). Banya designates a special type of song and dance, which in the du form has been organized and dramatized.4 There are indications that the term du was used for every cultural group, even a church choir, and was not exclusively associated with banya.

Free colored people and slaves mixed in these societies, which might have been the main reason why the government opposed them, since the slave colony is essentially a two-caste society with a sharp distinction between slaves and free people. Comvalius mentions that

after slavery the societies were sometimes hired by whites to ridicule their enemies (Comvalius 1935/36).

The dramatized banya is based on a simple story with fixed characters: Afrankeri, who defends high morals; Asringri, singing in honor of the band; Abenitanta or Momoi, criticising persons or events; Temeku, explaining the hidden allusions in the song; Aflaw, so shocked by the revelations that she faints; and Datra, the doctor who treats the fainting woman. The last two characters are the main actors, to whom a nurse is sometimes added. The former are primarily singers.

The complete performance easily develops into a sort of musical comedy. One of the pivots of the performance is a beautifully carved and decorated cupboard, called kwakwa, into which spectators are required to put their contributions.5 In the literature, two special types of banya performances have been mentioned: Bakafutu-banya (literally ‘back-foot banya’), which has been forbidden because of pagan rituals associated with it; and yorka-banya (literally ‘ghost banya’), which might be executed in honor of the ancestors. It has in fact been observed that until the present time most banya performances have been given in honor of the ancestors. It can be said generally that the ancestor cult preserves old cultural institutions in Creole society, because the ancestors must be placated with festivities they liked most during their lives.

The laku has essentially the same pattern as the banya, but the drama is more elaborate and executed by many costumed actors, both men and women. In all probability the laku play is a fairly recent adaptation of a general banya theme; the use of the European kettle drum in the orchestra points to a recent origin. The play was performed on a number of plantations before emancipation, but the only remaining group, as far as we know, is found in Paramaribo. The songs are rendered exclusively by a solo singer and a choir of plantation women. Several characters from the banya also appear here, including Afrankeri, Aflaw, and Datra. The number of actors, however, is increased to include two nurses, a doctor's assistant, a lawyer, a judge, a high administrator, the crew of a ship, and a variety of Asian immigrants recently arrived on it. The activities are centered on a

carved and decorated boat into which spectators are requested to put their contributions. Aflaw's fainting and her recovery with the help of Datra begin this drama. Aflaw faints because she is pregnant. She is examined by a nurse, who advises her to call a doctor. The plantation people try to find out who is responsible for her pregnancy, and this finally brings them to court. We find many historical details in a careful description of a recent performance in Van Renselaar 1959.

Finally, the lobisingi (‘love songs’) are a completely feminine affair. They originated after the time of slavery. The descriptions of Herskovits 1936 and Comvalius 1939 are fairly accurate. Comvalius stresses the point that the theme is often jealousy in a lesbian love affair. Lesbian love (mati) is more or less institutionalized in Creole society. It is quite clear, however, that heterosexual relations are also dealt with in the lobisingi. The wronged woman and her friends take revenge by organizing a lobisingi performance in the presence of the rival or in front of her house. Aflaw and Datra are again the principal actors. Songs are accompanied by a modern orchestra with brass instruments, and the melodies have become more European. There is an alternation between langa singi ‘long songs’) and koti singi (‘interrupting songs’). The two types of songs have totally different melodies and tempos. The langa singi show a partiality for the slow waltz rhythm and offer possibilities for improvisation. The koti singi are livelier and seem to have a more fixed text.

Songs 1-23 are examples of banya. A public performance is preceded by a private musical rehearsal (komparsi) and a more or less religious preparation called opo dron (‘to start with drumming’). After this ceremony, held at the home of one of the participants, the men are asked to keep themselves kaseri (‘ritually clean’), which means primarily that they should refrain from sexual intercourse until after the performance. Song 1 refers to this religious ceremony held at home.

All plays, and even secular dances, start with one or more songs in honor of the earth mother, called Aysa, Maysa, Wanaysa, Gronmama, and Tobosi, as in song 2. In these songs the participants ask her permission to play. In the banya performance this part of the play is also called nyanfaro (cf. song 2). The songs are not accompanied by drums. Songs 4 and 5 ask the kwakwa mayoro, the player of the kwakwabangi, a wooden bench beaten with wooden sticks, to start the drums. Song 5 refers to stories among the slaves that should now be brought into the open.

This sets into motion the next part of the performance, the krioro

dron, or ‘Creole drum,’ in which everyone gets the opportunity to venture his criticism in songs of his own making. Although new banya songs are no longer composed, one still observes a tendency to relate songs to social events. Several examples of this type of song are presented in this chapter. Song 6, for instance, refers to the fact that a slave has been sent to town with the boat, so that another man, perhaps the black overseer or basya, could court the man's wife. Many of the songs treat relations between men and women. Song 10, for example, ridicules a man who had promised his girl friend nice presents in return for her favors but when the traveling peddler arrived pretended to be busy catching crabs at the mangrove forest. The allusions are often veiled, which makes interpretation extremely difficult. Not all the songs refer to special events: songs 18, 19, and 20 apparently cover more general complaints.

Songs 21, 22, and 23 are of a special type having a long, improvised recitativo preamble. This introduction makes it possible to adapt old songs to new events.

Songs 24-34 are examples of laku songs. The laku group presented here originated on the De Resolutie plantation which existed until 1886. This plantation was also called Akademi, or ‘Academy,’ because it was regarded as a model sugar plantation. The group carries the name Pori Nem (‘bad reputation’), which explains the many allusions to bad reputation in the songs, e.g. songs 28, 30, and 31. Allusions to bad reputation are popular in the names of other cultural societies as well (cf. note 2). The performance opens, as in banya, with a song in honor of the earth mother (song 24). Laku songs often have a very abstract meaning, which again may adversely affect the possibility of interpretation. Song 25, for instance, seems to suggest that a human being cannot be deprived of his human dignity. Song 33 compares the lives of a white master and a slave to a boat and a corncob floating on the water.

Song 32 gives an example of the kind of song that is associated with the drama. Amekisani, one of the plantation women, is asked to call on the British high commissioner (kuli konsro, or ‘Indian consul’), who in this play helps the blacks to pay their fines. Song 34 is about the pending departure of the carved boat: it indicates that the spectators should now offer their contributions.

Songs 35-52 are specimens of lobisingi but with no distinction made between langa singi and koti singi. Songs 35 and 36 are typical of opening songs in which all the participants and spectators are greeted. Song 36 starts to reveal the subject of the special occasion

for the song. We have left out the many repetitions sung by the chorus. Song 38 contains many pseudo-Dutch words with special sexual connotations. We have tried to give as accurate an English rendering as possible, but many of the allusions are only vaguely known to us.

Song 51 was composed by Christina Loloba, a famous lobisingi singer. She sings about her former husband, Sander, who inquired about her present state (Comvalius 1939). Song 52 has the same kind of slow waltz rhythm but is possibly not a real lobisingi. It may be one of the songs of the famous street singer Sonde Prodo, a nickname meaning ‘[dressed up in] Sunday best,’ who composed many songs that are still popular. In a way, he perpetuated the lobisingi tradition.

Most of the songs were recorded between 1957 and 1961 by H.C. van Renselaar and J. Voorhoeve. Songs 41, 44, and 48 are taken from Herskovits 1936. Songs 42 and 51 are taken from Comvalius 1939. Songs 39, 40, and 42 can with slight variations also be found in Herskovits 1936.