Saris rustle. Glass bangles tinkle. Reeta’s “ladies”, around fifty women from the nearby village or further – such as Devi, who came on an early bus from Laventure – gather every Friday morning at the Social Welfare Centre in Petit Raffray to follow Reeta Poonith’s class of Geet (“song”) Gawai (“perform”). The musicians among them take their places: dholak (drum), lota (container and spoons), chinta (metallic tongs adorned with bottle tops). The oldest of them is Sooriahwantee Hurnam, 81 years old. In unison, the women address the inaugural prayer, Dharti Bhandhaye, to a nurturing Mother Earth. “We ask her for the permission and the courage to dance and thank her.” The participants, place and instruments are then all purified and blessed in turn. Offerings (flowers, fruit, spices, stones) are placed on a tray, then in the veils’ hollow. The songs, sustained by the rhythm of the dholak and of wooden bricks struck against each other, flood the room. “In the past, the coolies would sing to give themselves strength at work. These songs speak of pain, joy, endurance, parental love, mothers-in-law’s ire…” Narainee begins a song which narrates the terrible crossing of the first hired workers, the Girmitiyas, who came from Calcutta aboard the Atlas. “The song honours Kolkata and our ancestors. The wealth was theirs, and today it is transmitted through them,” emphasizes Reeta. The women enter the circle, spread their arms and palms towards the sky, and perform the last dance (Jhumar), which celebrates resilience, peace and harmony. The journey is ageless. What happened here this morning is not just the repetition or perpetuation of an ancient rite. It is also a powerful exchange, the expression of a tangible sisterly bond, a very contemporary vibration of love. SAVED FROM OBLIVION Reeta Poonith has headed the Petit Raffray school since its inception. She was born in 1955, descendant of an indentured labourer from Bihar. She is a fifth-generation immigrant. “The women in my family were the ones who naturally passed on the tongue and codes of Geet Gawai to me. We were a very modest family: my father supervised workers in The Mount sugar factory in Rivière du Rempart, and my mother worked in the fields and fed cows. I am the eighth child in a family of 10. I got married at 15 and gave birth to three daughters and a son. We speak Bhojpuri at home, like my parents did, and like most descendants of indentured workers, whether of Telugu, Tamil or Marathi culture and origins. There are now nearly 15,000 traditional geetarines in Mauritius alone – not counting those in the other former colonies, from South Africa to Suriname.” Once on the verge of disappearance, a handful of women mobilised to perpetuate this ancestral feminine rite and, since 2012, teach it in dedicated schools. Today, there The ritual of offerings and the devotional song to Mother Earth open the festivities. Le rituel des offrandes et le chant dévotionnel à la Terre-Mère ouvrent la célébration.
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