Réunion Island: maloya

Journalist

It is an island at the end of the world, a piece of confetti floating in the ocean. For decades, this island had hardly changed. 15, 20 ago, we first discovered cars and traffic jams here, as well as brands and their colorful logos. In the course of 20 years, at the turn of the century, these landscapes were transformed, Réunion entered a new age for good. The sugar cane industry, which had brought wealth to the island, collapsed. One by one, the factories closed.

Journalist

The Distillery Beaufonds in Saint-Benoît closed down about ten years ago. Granmoun and his friend Boulevard used to work there. They spent their whole lives by each other’s side, one as a foreman, the other as a simple labourer.

Boulevard

You see, there are things like that, you see that. We lifted that up with a block and tackle. With a block and tackle and we had to pull really hard. Now, it’s all gone now, now there are cranes that do the work and that put all that in place. But it was, it was nice, it was a pleasant experience.

Journalist

Granmoun stopped his job as a turbine supervisor, it was state of the art at the time but today, it’s on the brink of death. A machine that became man’s friend.

Granmoun

It's a good turbine, the only thing it can’t do is talk! You arrive for work, it is running, if it stalls, a red light lights up to tell you that it has stalled, and where the fault lies. But other than that, it is like you and me. The only thing it can’t do is talk.

Journalist

I see you like this machine?

Granmoun

Yes! Let’s say that it is like my wife. I look as it like I look at my wife, even if it is old. But I feel sorry for it...

Journalist

There are only three distilleries left in Réunion, they are brand new and extremely powerful. Despite modernity, the cars, and the satellite dishes, something on the island has not changed. The people, no doubt, and their beliefs. It is said that in Réunion there are as many chapels for evil spirits, or saints than there are inhabitants. For example, one of the stars of the island is Saint Expedit, whose statue prominently stands at the side of roads. A saint of uncertain origin, who is not really recognized by the Church. Officially, Granmoun is a Catholic. Officially, maybe. Of all the religions on the island, the old man hasn’t really settled on one. On a small piece of land that he owns near his home, Granmoun looks after two chapels, one for Indian worship, the other devoted to the numerous Malagasy spirits; the spirits that his slave ancestors brought with them to the island in the last century.

Granmoun

Over there, it is Malagasy, it is my mom’s religion. Here, it is my father’s religion. Don’t think that he isn’t there! You can’t see him but he is there. If I do a ceremony for my mom but nothing for him, he gets jealous! Then, he says that I only think about mom, I don’t think about him and he curses me and this curse will befall my children!

Granmoun

If you have a problem, if your foot hurts, you can drink an herbal tea, you say a prayer, you talk with them, then when you get home, the pain is gone! If you talk with him, he will serve you, it is same with him and with him too; He is small, but it is even more serious! But they are only God’s intermediaries, because there is only one real God in heaven, only one! It is there, there is only one God!

Journalist

Granmoun and his tribe, his 13 children and 72 grandchildren. Every Thursday, with a few of them, he comes to this site to sing and dance.

Journalist

For Granmoun has not only preserved the beliefs and rituals of his ancestors, he especially plays their music: maloya.

Journalist

Maloya, which was born in front of factories, is a result of the mixing of songs of slaves from Madagascar and Africa. Black music, rebel music, unwelcomed by the powerful whites on the island and the authorities. Up until 1981, 20 years ago, maloya was banned; anyone who beat the roulèr, the local drum, was liable to pay a fine. Granmoun says he is not interested in politics, yet he reveres François Mitterrand, who in 81, abolished the death penalty and allowed maloya to be played.

Granmoun

Mitterrand said if a man gets into a fight, if he kills another man, condemn him however you want, for life, if you want. But people are not poultry! Throw away the guillotine, get rid of it, and he got rid of it! about the drum, the roulèr, he said, whether you are black, yellow, grey or white, everyone is entitled to their own music!

Journalist

Banned until relatively recently, the maloya is today a source of pride for the inhabitants of the island. Where Granmoun lives, in his district called the Bras Fusil, it is even taught. It is his son, Willie, who is responsible for passing on the heritage.

Willie

Myself, I was born in this district. At the time, we played maloya secretly, otherwise, as Granmoun said, you had to pay a fine. And now, young people play maloya, it is important to pass it on to other generations.

Unknown 1

I myself prefer playing maloya to doing anything else.

Journalist

Why?

Unknown 1

It's fun, and instead of fighting, you can let off steam playing the roulèrs, the congas.

Journalist

In 81, Granmoun reopened the chapels of his ancestors, he resumed his rituals. And since then, there have been more and more people who come to pray to the ancestors, to be filled with their spirit.

Journalist

Once a year, Granmoun and his followers dedicate a day to their Malagasy ancestors. On the family land and at their home, everyone takes part. This evening, a hundred or so guests are expected.

Journalist

For everyone, for the young and old alike, this day is the most important of the year.

Unknown 1

It's kind of like when you wish someone a happy New Year, you always say good luck for the new yearn well, this is the same. It's like New Year for us. Before, grandmother was here and grandfather, they did it, and well, now, it is a continuation. It is a continuation: today, it’s Granmoun and then later, it will be the children.

Journalist

The celebrations start at dawn, and will last all night. When all the guests have arrived, we’ll have a large meal. Everyone loves this get-together, we forget everything, all the grievances, jealousy, and anger... of everyone.

Journalist

For hours, we just let ourselves go, to the sound of the roulèr, the triangle and the kaiamba. We confide in Granmoun’s prayers and in the spirits of our ancestors.

Unknown 2

Usually, I do it every year,

Unknown 3

We also get invited,

Unknown 2

Last week, we had one. But my leg hurts, I have osteoarthritis. I have to be careful, I'm afraid I might fall.

Unknown 3

When you are old, 80, you have to be careful.

Unknown 2

I’m not 80 yet...

Journalist

On first light of day, when most of the guests have gone, Granmoun and his family sing , a last song in honor of the Sun. The clan has honored the spirits, the sun can return, life can continue. The irony of the story is that maloya, which was once banned, is now very fashionable. Granmoun, the small worker of the sugar cane plantations has become a star on the island, the hero of a music that he has defended his whole life. The ancestors and their spirits can, without a doubt, be proud of him.