<<

Commentary

Afro-Cuban Use of Human Remains: Medicolegal Considerations

Introduction Medicolegal professionals occasionally encounter human remains that have been used for ritual purposes. In the state of Florida, practitioners of the Afro-Cuban religious system of Palo (a Kongo-inspired frequently referred to as Palo Mayombe) use human skulls and crania in religious [1–3]. Recent research by forensic anthropologists from the University of Florida’s C.A. Pound Human Identification Laboratory (CAPHIL) has identified biocultural and taphonomic signa- tures left by Palo practices on human remains [3]. Some of the traits included in the biocultural and taphonomic signatures are shared by other Afro-Cuban religious systems–most notably, Ocha (often called Santería), Palo’s Yoruba-inspired cousin religion [3–6]. However, other traits constitute unique elements of Palo ritual [4, 5], enabling anthropologists to identify the religious affiliation of these assemblages with confidence [3]. We begin this paper with a literature review describing the religious systems of Ocha and Palo, the major components of Afro-Cuban ritual assemblages, and the history of medicolegal interactions with these assemblages. We then enhance existing Afro-Cuban biocultural and taphonomic signatures [3] with new observational data and present a synthesis of material cultural and biological data to enable further specificity in identifying Palo assemblages. Finally, we outline medicolegal considerations for the identification and handling of these ritual assemblages of human remains and material culture. We provide background on the legal and illegal sourcing of ritual human remains, recom- mendations for criminal investigations, and guidelines for the safe and ethical handling of these unique assemblages–includ- ing cases in which they have been contaminated with elemental mercury.

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 1 Afro-Cuban Religious Practices and Ritual Assemblages Ocha and Palo: Similarities and Differences The Afro-Cuban systems of Ocha and Palo developed from the religious practices of West African Yoruba and Central African Kongo peoples displaced from their homelands by the slave trade [5, 7]. These practices were as distinct from each other as they were internally diverse [4–6]. Imported into in large numbers in the 19th century, Yoruba captives brought to the island a complex tradition of multi-deity [4–6]. Imported diffusely but continuously beginning in the 16th century, enslaved Kongo peoples often practiced religious traditions honoring spirits rather than deities–despite the fact that many had practiced a form of long before their capture and forced diaspora [5, 7]. In late-19th-century Cuba, these enslaved West and Central Africans comprised a large proportion of the island’s population. Although the majority lived and worked in rural, agricultural settings, approximately one quarter of these enslaved Africans lived in Cuba’s urban centers [8]. Many participated in Church-sponsored African social clubs and other multi-ethnic African urban organizations, and new religious systems devel- oped in these dynamic and diverse urban contexts [9–11]. Thus, though developing from distinct African traditions, Ocha and Palo crystallized into stridently pluralistic, uniquely Afro-Cuban forms [5]. For more than one hundred years, the have maintained “clear-cut distinctions” [5] in spite of their concurrent evolution, frequent confusion, and the fact that the same individuals can and often do practice both [4, 10, 12]. Certainly, the two belief systems share similarities. Both tradi- tions share certain ritual paraphernalia–including beads; candles; statues; figurines; and the machetes, knives, and metal objects sacred to the spiritual agents honored as warriors [9]. Practitioners of both Ocha and Palo use elemental mercury, or azogue, in their religious and folk practices [4, 13, 14]. Both traditions involve animal , leading to the deposition of faunal bones, blood, feathers, and other remains in religious assemblages [4, 6, 15, 16]. Both religious systems rely on fundamental laws of associa- tion in determining their requisite material culture. The Law of Similarity (like produces like) dictates that items containing photographs, names, and personal-identification information can appear in ritual assemblages intended to produce an effect on a specific target. The Law of Contact dictates that items that have been in contact with a designated target (e.g., clothing) can be incorporated into ritual assemblages. Some of the deities honored

Journal of Forensic Identification 2 / 67 (1), 2017 in Ocha practices have equivalents among the Palo spirit-arche- types [2, 17], sharing similar attributes, attitudes, and requisite ritual material culture. For example, the Ocha deities Elegguá and Ogún are often associated with the Palo spirits Lucero Mundo and Zarabanda, respectively. The rituals of both traditions focus on enacting spiritual works of healing and protection; Palo works can also enact harm on an intended target. Practitioners of both religious traditions rely on dance, song, drumming, and trance in order to engage with the spiritual world. However, the nature of that spiritual world–and the charac- ter of practitioners’ engagement with it–differs between the two belief systems. Ocha centers on the worship of the , West African deities often recast in the guise of the Spanish santos who inspired the religion’s popular name: Santería, the way of the saints [16, 18, 19]. Ocha practitioners–santeros–can ascertain the will of the orishas via divination, or even channel their life force through dancing and trance. However, santeros cannot coerce the orishas, because these deities make decisions independent of human influence [5]. In contrast, Palo practitioners–paleros– engage in active, even abusive forms of interaction with the spirits of the dead around whom their religious practice centers and whom they coerce to enact their works [5]. Material Culture Associations These differences in approaches to worship translate to different material cultural signatures [4]. The godlike orishas of the Ocha tradition are honored with European-inspired creole assemblages consisting of ornate thrones and baroque sopera vessels [9, 20]. In contrast, mpungu, the spirit-archetypes of the Palo cosmos, are summoned to action with the quintessen- tial Palo assemblage: the fierce and potent [9, 13, 20]. Called “the essence of Palo”, the nganga (or prenda) is a ritual assemblage typically contained in a cauldron or pot [17]. Each nganga consists of an assemblage of symbolic items of material culture, all working with the palero to become an active agent of healing, harming, or protective magic [5, 21, 22]. These items of material culture can include palos (sticks), bilongos (magical works), soil, azogue, and the animal blood and remains deposited during offerings to the mpungu (Figure 1). Chains are frequently present, symbolizing the binding of the nganga’s spiritual forces to the palero. Associated firmas, Kongo-inspired linear designs, represent spiritual caminos (paths) on which the mpungu travel to enact their works (Figure 2 [also see images in 3, 17, 23]).

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 3 Figure 1 Palo nganga assemblage dedicated to the mpungu Zarabanda.

Figure 2 Firma (Kongo-inspired linear design) recovered during medicolegal analysis of an nganga dedicated to Zarabanda.

Journal of Forensic Identification 4 / 67 (1), 2017 The most important element of the nganga, however, is the nfumbe–the dead one, or the force of the dead–represented by human remains [4]. These human remains animate the nganga with their associated spiritual presence, galvanizing the other spiritual and natural forces within the cauldron [4]. The power- ful nfumbe are incited to even greater potency when their host remains are acquired by grave robbery–an act that paleros believe involves stealing as well as bones [5, 13]. From the medicolegal perspective, this may be the key difference between Ocha and Palo assemblages. Ocha thrones, altars, and other assemblages rarely include human remains, but Palo almost always do [2, 4, 11, 22]. Further, individuals practicing both Ocha and Palo tend to segregate their religions’ respective material culture assem- blages into separate ritual spheres [5]. The spatial arrangement of nganga assemblages within a palero’s ritual sphere also has the potential to aid in differentiating their intention. Single paleros can create distinct types of nganga. Prendas cristianas (Christian or baptized ngangas) are ritual assemblages contain- ing crucifixes or holy water [17]. These relatively benign ngangas can perform healing and harming works, but they are prevented by a governing Christian doctrine from killing the target of their magic [4, 17]. In contrast, prendas judias (Jewish or unbaptized ngangas) are capable of killing a specified target [4]. Within the Palo ritual sphere, the more benevolent prendas cristianas may be more prominently displayed, while the potent and malevolent prendas judias may be hidden from sight [4]. Finally, prendas cristianas frequently contain concealed nfumbe, while prendas judias may showcase human remains prominently [4]. Medicolegal Interpretations Cuban emigration has brought the practice of these religious traditions to the United States–beginning with the post-Revolu- tion arrival of an estimated 430,000 in Miami-Dade County alone, and continuing through the introduction of more than 120,000 additional Cuban refugees in the Mariel Boatlifts of 1980 [6, 24]. Many of these émigrés practiced Ocha and Palo, and subsequent migrations have introduced more practitioners. Non-Cuban Americans, including many non-Latino African Americans, now practice these religions [6, 10, 25]. A recent American Religious Identification Survey estimates the number of practicing United States santeros at 22,000 [26]. However, the true number is likely far higher–particularly in light of 1990s-

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 5 era sources estimating numbers of santeros at 70,000 in South Florida [27] and 300,000 in New York City [28]. No United States survey to date provides Palo-specific statistics. The United States medicolegal community has long been aware of the use of human remains in Afro-Cuban ritual practices [1–3, 23, 29–36]. Beginning with the publications of Wetli and Martinez [1, 2], forensic anthropologists and medical examiners have described individual cases of human remains in Afro-Cuban ritual contexts [31, 35], small samples of ritual assemblages [1, 2, 23, 29, 32], and larger-scale surveys of medico- legal cases involving ritual remains [3, 36]. Yet, although forensic anthropologists and pathologists have developed a strong tradi- tion of identifying the indicators of broadly defined Afro-Cuban rituals, even the most nuanced of medicolegal publications (for example, Wetli and Martinez [1]) can gloss over the subtleties differentiating Ocha from Palo practices. Some medicolegal professionals still casually refer to the human remains within nganga assemblages as “Santería skulls”–a contradictory term that ignores the fact that skulls are not actually used in Ocha ritual [3]. This lumping of Ocha and Palo may reflect a desire by medicolegal professionals for the broad Afro-Cuban ritual context of the remains to be understood by the lay public. It may represent an attempt to communicate to the medicolegal commu- nity that these remains are not forensically, but rather culturally, significant. It could also reflect the fact that, rather than relying on ethnographic or other academic sources, medicolegal research- ers tend to cite more general sources that do not adequately or accurately depict Ocha and Palo practices (for example, Perlmutter [33], Perlmutter [34], González-Wippler [37])1. Yet, the nearly mutually exclusive material cultural signatures result- ing from Ocha and Palo practices highlight the fact that Ocha assemblages can be reliably differentiated from Palo ngangas in the medicolegal context [3, 4, 23]. In a recent article, University of Florida researchers present a series of Afro-Cuban ritual cases analyzed at Florida’s CAPHIL forensic anthropology laboratory, identifying biocultural and taphonomic signatures shared by human remains used in Florida Palo ritual practices [3]. The signatures include taphonomic modifications evidenced on the remains themselves (e.g., soil staining; postmortem sharp-force and handling damage; and

1 In one such source [38], the author apologizes for the “sketchy... tales and anecdotes”, “inaccuracies”, and outright “misinformation” included in a previous edition–a source cited in multiple seminal medicolegal publications (for example, Wetli and Martinez [1], and Wetli and Martinez [2]). Journal of Forensic Identification 6 / 67 (1), 2017 adherent soil, blood, feathers, hair, and mercury) as well as material culture associated with the remains (e.g., faunal bones, cauldrons, beads, and sticks [3]). Contextual data form another component of the biocultural and taphonomic signatures: the majority of these assemblages of human remains and material culture are found as primary deposits in in situ religious contexts, typically outside or within the home [3]. Others are encountered as secondary deposits (often near water) or confiscated during airport screenings [3]. Finally, the estimated biological charac- teristics of the ritual remains indicate that they tend to be adult males, primarily of non-European ancestry [3]. Informed by the largest sample of Afro-Cuban ritual remains analyzed to date (n=42 cases), this study [3] confirms that some of the traits included in the Florida taphonomic and biocultural signatures are also utilized in Ocha rituals (e.g., beads, candles, mercury, blood, feathers, faunal remains), whereas other traits are unique elements of Palo ritual (e.g., cauldrons, sticks, human remains).

Guidelines for Medicolegal Analyses of Afro-Cuban Ritual Assemblages Our combined decades of Florida medicolegal casework have included skeletal analysis of Afro-Cuban ritual human remains, ritual scene investigation, participation in ritual practices, and informal conversation with practitioners. In the following sections, we present observations that further enable a differ- entiation between Ocha and Palo and an accurate medicolegal interpretation of ritual assemblages. Unless otherwise cited, these observations and opinions are informed by our own profes- sional experiences. Differentiating and Interpreting Afro-Cuban Ritual Assemblages Importantly, elements of the Florida Palo biocultural and taphonomic signatures warrant a caveat in light of our observa- tions. In particular, the claim that human remains only appear in Palo assemblages [3] requires revision. Skulls, crania, and long bones indeed number among the items of material culture exclu- sive to Palo ritual. This likely reflects the belief by paleros that their nfumbe require both intelligence (represented by the skull) and mobility (represented by the long bones of the limbs). Yet, although the fact remains that these larger skeletal elements are not used in Ocha rituals, conversations with practitioners reveal that Miami santeros occasionally incorporate smaller skeletal

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 7 elements into their Ocha assemblages. For example, in certain ramas (branches) of Ocha, followers of the orisha Babalú Ayé use phalanges in their ritual practices. Though little acknowl- edged, this practice is not altogether surprising considering that one camino (facet or avatar) of this santo muertero is believed to operate the hearse used to transport the dead to the gravesite. Practitioners dedicating a ritual assemblage to this camino of Babalú Ayé may place phalanges within the orisha’s ceramic sopera. Second, contrary to the claim that the presence of a cauldron definitively indicates a Palo ritual assemblage [3], Florida followers of the orisha Ogún sometimes include iron pots in their Ocha assemblages (Figure 3). However, although these pots can resemble smaller-scale versions of the ngangas dedicated to the mpungu Zarabanda (Figure 1), they do not include human remains, and they are frequently associated with material culture exclusive to Ocha (Figure 3). Finally, in contrast with the portrayal of skull-centered nganga assemblages [3], on rare occasions, Florida paleros procure nfumbe-spirits without the acquisition of their physical remains. In these cases, paleros honor and maintain prendas espirituales (spiritual ngangas), as opposed to typical ngangas centered on human remains. Rather than indicating that medicolegal analysts should be less specific in their interpretations of Afro-Cuban ritual, however, we propose that even greater specificity may be possible. Medicolegal professionals can still use the patterns summarized in previous research to distinguish the signatures of Palo from those of Ocha [3], as long as they bear in mind the above caveats regarding the occasional use of phalanges in Babalú Ayé ritual, the possible presence of small pots in Ogún ritual assemblages, and the infrequent occurrence of prendas espirituales.

Journal of Forensic Identification 8 / 67 (1), 2017 Figure 3 Small cauldron assemblage dedicated to the orisha Ogún. Note associated material culture exclusive to Ocha ritual, including European-inspired ceramics.

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 9 Further, medicolegal professionals can use material cultural and biological data to distinguish between the types of nganga represented by Palo assemblages (Table 1). According to Palo tradition, ngangas cannot share nfumbe, and each type of nganga requires a different type of animating spirit. Each of these mpungu is associated with a requisite body of material culture and biological characteristics (Table 1). Because an nganga dedicated to the youthful, capricious trickster, Lucero Mundo, requires a juvenile nfumbe [4], the presence of juvenile remains in an nganga assemblage may indicate its dedication to this particular mpungu (Table 1). For an nganga dedicated to the feminine Ma’ Kalunga, spirit of the sea, items associ- ated with seafaring might be contained within a white-and-blue clay vessel (Table 1). For an nganga dedicated to Zarabanda, the lord of metals, paleros might fill an iron cauldron with metal objects including horseshoes, magnets, nails, pliers, scissors, razor blades, machetes, and other knives [4, 39]. Metal chains are sometimes ornamented with agricultural tools and other implements associated with this mpungu [2, 3]. Additionally, Palo mythology connects Zarabanda with the railroad–possibly emblematic of the Afro-Cubans who constructed Cuba’s rail system [17, 40]. The presence of metallic objects and railroad spikes in a Palo assemblage, or its deposition near railroad tracks, may denote a dedication to Zarabanda (Table 1, Figure 1).

Journal of Forensic Identification 10 / 67 (1), 2017 Biological Mpungu Orisha; Santo(s) Material Culture Associations Characteristics of Nfumbe* Red-and-black beads; clay Elegguá; Christ images with cowry-shell facial Lucero Child, Holy features; conch shells; coins; Mundo/ Nkuyu Guardian Angel, mirrors; particular association Juvenile remains St. Anthony of with metallic mercury, gates, Padua and crossroads Red-and-white beads; swords Siete Rayos/ Changó; St. and axes; particular association Nsasi Barbara with thunder, lightning, and fire White-and-purple beads; purple Cobayende/ Tata Babalú-Ayé; St. objects; cigars; coins; glasses Funde Lazarus of water; particular association with healing and the sick Obatalá; Our Lady of Mercy, White beads (occasionally red Tiembla Tierra/ Holy Eucharist, beads); pearls; white objects and Male MpunguMale Ma Kengue the Resurrected garments; particular association Christ with wisdom and purity Iron nganga vessel; black- and-green beads; red ribbons; canine bones; reptile remains and eggs; metallic items Zarabanda Ogún; St. Peter, (including horseshoes and Male remains St. Santiago weapons); chains adorned with agricultural implements; particular association with iron, the railroad, and railroad spikes

Clay nganga vessel; yellow or white-and-yellow beads; Mama Oshún; Our Lady mirrors; shells; copper and Female remains Chola of Charity gold; particular association with rivers, love, and money Clay nganga vessel; white- Ma’ Kalunga/ Yemayá; Our Lady and-blue beads; particular Madre Agua of Regla association with fertility, the sea, and seafaring Female Mpungu Female Gourd or clay nganga vessel; Centella Ndoki Oyá; Our Lady of particular association with Candelaria death and the cemetery Animal bones, horns, feathers, and blood; soil and/ or grave dirt; stones; shells; beads; sticks (palos) and hooked staves; metallic mercury (azogue); machetes; horseshoes; railroad spikes; candles; herbs; chains; linear designs (firmas); crucifixes and holy water (in the cases of benevolent or baptized prendas Additional material cristianas); rum and/or chamba (sacred drink of culture associated with Palo); figurines (including that of Francisco Siete multiple mpungu Rayos, envisioned as the deified African ancestor); items in multiples of seven; multi-colored necklaces symbolizing the whole spiritual universe of Palo, with beads representing each mpungu’s colors and/or associated symbolic items (e.g., tools for Zarabanda, shells for Mama Chola). * Blank cells indicate no data found in the literature. However, biological sex of associated nfumbe may be expected to follow the gender of the mpungu. Table 1 Major Palo spirits: associated Ocha orishas and Spanish-Catholic santos; requisite items of material culture for nganga assemblages; and biological characteristics of associated human remains [2, 3, 4, 6, 13, 16, 17, 21, 40, 62].

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 11 Thus, although allowance must be made for the individual preferences of practitioners, as well as the differential acces- sibility of various materials included in the assemblages, determining the spiritual affiliation of an nganga may be possible in the medicolegal context. For example, one nganga assemblage analyzed at Florida’s CAPHIL [3] consists of an iron cauldron containing human remains; railroad spikes; a metal chain decorated with agricultural implements; and multiple knives, tools, and other metal objects. A dedication to the mpungu Zarabanda is likely. Iron cauldrons associated with human and faunal remains; palos; and metallic chains, knives, and railroad spikes observed in New York [23] and Massachusetts [35] also constitute possible Zarabanda ngangas. Another Florida CAPHIL case details the recovery of a ritual assemblage from a body of water: in contrast with the iron cauldron and metallic items typically associated with a Zarabanda assemblage, the blue-and-white ceramic vase filled with seashells and nautical- themed objects is likely a Ma’ Kalunga nganga [3]. Understanding the Sourcing of Ritual Remains Determining the source of human remains used in Palo ritual is a paramount issue in the medicolegal setting, with the poten- tial to implicate practitioners in grave robbery, or exonerate them of such charges. In the CAPHIL sample of Florida Palo assemblages (n=42), approximately 11% of ritual human remains are anatomical specimens [3]. Some of these remains may have been legally sourced, for example, from online venders [41]. It is interesting to note that between the dates of this commentary’s submission and acceptance, the popular online auction house eBay changed its policy on the sale of human remains: at the time of submission, the policy stated that sellers were permitted to list human skulls and skeletons intended for medical use [41]; as of this writing, the site prohibits the listing of human remains other than scalp hair [42]. This action may constitute a response to a recent publication highlighting sourcing ambiguities and legal repercussions of online remains trafficking [43]. Cases of the illegal online sale of human remains have been reported previously [44]. The eBay policy change affects paleros’ (and other human-remains traders’) online access to anatomical specimens, and may well result in changes to their nfumbe- sourcing practices.

Journal of Forensic Identification 12 / 67 (1), 2017 However, one fact that likely will not change is that the major- ity of Palo remains seem to originate from cemetery contexts. In the CAPHIL Florida Palo sample, approximately 47% of cases represent instances of grave robbery [3]: the looting of either modern cemetery (36.2%) or historic or archaeological remains (10.6%). Even in nonritual cases, forensic anthropologists sometimes encounter remains unearthed from historic contexts (between 5% and 8% of forensic anthropology cases [45, 46]) or cemeteries (approximately 7% of forensic anthropology cases [46]). These cemetery remains are typically identified on the basis of extensive soil staining, warping, root damage, artifact staining, and the posterior cortical flaking characteristic of coffin burial [45–49]. Because they do not represent the victims of open homicide or human-rights-abuse investigations, these disturbed cemetery remains do not constitute typical forensic anthropology or medical examiner casework. However, in the state of Florida, willfully and knowingly disturbing the contents of a grave constitutes a second-degree felony [50, 51]. Even decades-old cemetery remains become medicolegally significant when they are illegally removed or desecrated. Thus, practicing paleros are faced with the dilemma of whether to source human remains legally, potentially resulting in a less-potent nfumbe, or to follow the tradition of procuring remains from cemeteries, risking legal sanction. Abandoned cemeteries seem to emerge as frequent targets–particularly those with aboveground mausoleums that maximize access to human remains while minimizing risk and effort. Cemeteries may provide the source for the human remains sold in many botánicas–stores supplying a variety of materials for Afro-Cuban, , and Latin American religious and folk practices. Although practitioners sourcing nfumbe from cemeteries may target individuals with specific age, sex, or other biological characteristics (Table 1), they are less likely to target individu- als who were known to them during life. This underscores the fact that many nfumbe remain unidentified in the medicole- gal context [3]. Pinpointing the country of origin of an nfumbe may be possible, however; characteristic autopsy artifacts, dental restorations, or other surgical implants may indicate a non-United States origin. Isotopic analyses also hold the poten- tial to differentiate between United States and Caribbean or Latin American individuals [52–54]. Although we have not witnessed a thriving remains trade between Cuba and the United States, it is likely that some emigrating Palo practitioners may wish to bring

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 13 their nfumbe with them to their new locations of settlement. Florida forensic anthropology cases in which ritual remains were apprehended during United States customs screenings support this idea [3]; in one such case, the individual transporting the remains alleged that he had exhumed them from the grave of his Cuban mother. Redressing Medicolegal Misunderstandings of Palo Practices Although medicolegal professionals have long engaged with the assemblages resulting from Palo rituals, they still confound Palo and Ocha practices. A recent survey of forensic anthropol- ogy case files shows that although medicolegal analysts have known the difference between Ocha and Palo for decades, they have often persisted in classifying both as Santería [3]. At times, medicolegal analysts even classify Palo assemblages as the result of religious practices outside the Afro-Cuban tradition. In one Florida CAPHIL case, medical examiner documents state that the owner of a Palo assemblage likely practiced “voodoo” [3]. Likewise, in his foreword to an Ocha volume [55], Dr. Charles Wetli reports that his medical examiner colleagues refer to Afro-Cuban rituals as “Cuban Voodoo”. In another article [2], a series of nganga assemblages bears the erroneous caption, “voodoo paraphernalia”. This misnomer is also applied to custodial staff responsible for disposing of the Ocha and Palo offerings deposited near Miami courthouses; the courthouse custodians are known as the “Voodoo Squad” in local parlance. Although a connection between grave robbery and the sourcing of Palo ritual remains is undeniable [3, 4], and the commodification of human remains is illegal in some states [43], a mistaken association between Afro-Cuban religious practice and other forms of criminality has also persisted [6, 33, 34, 56, 57]. Perhaps beginning with the alleged ritual murder of children by Palo practitioners in the early 20th century [5], Palo in particular has been misinterpreted as having a criminal connection. This antimony toward Palo was only heightened after a series of ritual, drug-related murders in Mexico during the late 1980s [58], and the Satanic Panic that ensued [59]. Some medicolegal profession- als continue to associate Palo with drug trafficking [34]. This is not necessarily a baseless accusation. Individuals involved in the drug trade may indeed be attracted more to Palo than to Ocha, because of the aggressive, eye-for-an-eye nature of Palo’s magic. From the medicolegal perspective, this means that the religious family formed by a circle of practitioners may be a valuable source of criminal information in cases where a palero is involved

Journal of Forensic Identification 14 / 67 (1), 2017 in criminal activities. Cemetery administration or groundskeep- ers may also serve as reliable medicolegal informants during an investigation of presumed grave-robbing activities. At times, ngangas themselves can act as medicolegal informants, poten- tially containing names or images of a palero’s associates or enemies that can guide an investigation. For example, in one Florida CAPHIL case, a cranium within an nganga owned by an alleged drug dealer contained slips of paper on which the names of the palero’s enemies were written [3]. For a palero, a potent nganga assemblage may even provide an intuitive deposition location for firearms, knives, and other weapons–particularly when the nganga is dedicated to the warlike Zarabanda. Palo ngangas are frequently encountered during criminal investigations, and nfumbe may be sourced by illegal grave- robbing activities. However, it is important to specify that the other rituals contributing to these assemblages are not themselves criminal [24]. Animal sacrifice is legal if conducted in accordance with regulations for the humane slaughter of animals [15, 27]. Most of the old and oft-cited allegations of human sacrifice in Palo ritual have been subsequently discred- ited [9, 57]. Although blood is often found in association with Palo assemblages, it has not been found to be human in origin [3]. Even in the infamous series of murders committed by a palero in the late 1980s [58], the crimes may have had more to do with intimidating the drug-trafficking community and less to do with actual Palo ritual [60]. The marginalization of Palo may be due to its appearance, from the nonpractitioner’s perspective, as representing black magic–what early scholars termed brujería [57]. It is often characterized as the darker side of Ocha [1], a reputation that is due in large part to Ocha’s association with the worship of the saints, contrasted with Palo’s inability to mesh with a Judeo-Christian ethos [4, 5, 12]. Historically misunderstood, Palo rituals have been darkened by the shadow of the more mainstream, Christian-complimentary Ocha [5]. By adjusting their perspectives on Palo’s association with criminality, members of the medicolegal community can play a role in redressing the misconception that Ocha practice is good, while Palo practice is bad.

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 15 Safe Handling Procedures for Palo Assemblages In the 1980s and 1990s, the majority of Florida’s CAPHIL Palo cases (85%) originated from the Miami area [3]. Between the years 2000 and 2014, however, just 27% of the Palo cases analyzed at Florida’s CAPHIL originated from Miami-Dade county, with the majority originating from other locations through- out the state [3]. Medicolegal analysts in New York [23, 31], New Jersey [32], Massachusetts [35], and California [61] have also reported cases of Afro-Cuban ritual use of human remains. We anticipate that medicolegal professionals throughout the United States will increasingly encounter Afro-Cuban ritual cases, and that these practices will disperse further. Thus, the international medicolegal community should be prepared to analyze Afro-Cuban ritual assemblages effectively. Medicolegal professionals can expect to encounter the major- ity of Palo nganga assemblages within in situ ritual contexts. Palo practitioners frequently store these ritual assemblages in sheds, yards, and outbuildings [3]. These sheds act as private, spatially delineated temples for Palo nganga ceremonies–separate even from the Ocha ritual sphere, in cases where single individuals practice both Ocha and Palo. Within these temple-outbuildings, nganga assemblages typically rest on bare earth. When found outside the ritual sphere, however, nganga assemblages are commonly secondarily deposited in open locations, often in or near bodies of water [3]. Railroad tracks may represent another likely deposition location, particularly in cases where nganga assemblages are dedicated to the mpungu Zarabanda. The presence of mercury in association with Palo ritual remains warrants discussion (Figure 4). Paleros add elemental mercury (azogue) to nganga assemblages in order to conjure the mpungu, quickening their works with the fast-moving quicksil- ver [2, 4, 13, 62, 63]. Approximately 16% of Florida’s CAPHIL Palo cases exhibit adherent elemental mercury [3]. Afro-Cuban ritual cases investigated by the New York City Office of Chief Medical Examiner sometimes include vials of mercury [23]. The substance is not always visible at the outset of medicolegal analysis, because adherent sediments, animal blood, or feath- ers may obscure mercury adhering to external bone surfaces. Alternately, mercury adhering to endocranial surfaces may only be visible radiographically, where it can form small globules that appear as bright points of radiopacity, easily distinguished from the lead wipe characteristic of a projectile (Figure 4).

Journal of Forensic Identification 16 / 67 (1), 2017 Figure 4 Elemental mercury in Palo ritual remains: anterior radiograph of human mandible, with presence of mercury indicated by small, radiopaque densities within the alveoli (circle). Inset photograph shows small globules of mercury removed from the mandible during analysis.

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 17 Other Afro-Cuban religious traditions also utilize azogue [64–67], as do the religious and nonreligious practices of other cultural groups [68]. It can be easily procured at botánicas, where it is often sold in small capsules or vials [14, 64, 67–69]. In certain Latin American and Caribbean religious and healing contexts, it is reportedly swallowed, applied to the skin, burned in lamps or candles, carried in amulets and pouches, or sprinkled around a home [14, 64, 65, 67, 70]. In one case reported in the environmental health literature, two Central American individu- als received subcutaneous injections of the element in order to ward off evil during foreign travel [71]. In another, nine children suffered mercury poisoning after finding and opening a vial of elemental mercury prepared by an Ocha practitioner [72] In light of such alarming reports, the passage of legislation limiting the sale of elemental mercury seems inevitable [73]. Some medicolegal sources explicitly warn responders to beware of mercury when entering Palo-related crime scenes [30, 33]. The Miami-Dade County Medical Examiner Department has informed local law enforcement agencies of the danger of unwit- tingly transporting Palo remains to an office or laboratory, explaining that “this liquid metal presents a potential health hazard for anyone who handles. . .these items” and warning that “All law enforcement agencies should exercise caution when responding to any scene or location where human or other skeletal remains are discovered and may be associated with religious artifacts.” [74] This medical examiner depart- ment recommends that law enforcement agencies collaborate with fire-rescue departments’ hazardous materials teams to take readings of potentially contaminated materials before process- ing a scene [74]. Certainly, medicolegal responders should follow the personal- protection protocols necessary to ensure their own health during scene processing and analysis. However, there is evidence that legal action against the religious use of mercury may not reflect the realities of health risks within the Palo-practitioner commu- nity. Although isolated cases of mercury poisoning have been reported [71, 72], larger-scale surveys of mercury exposure in populations using mercury for cultural and religious purposes have either been inconclusive [75] or have shown no overall evidence of elevated mercury levels [68, 73]. The limited use of small amounts of mercury in Latin American and Caribbean religious ritual does not necessarily result in increased exposure, and the frequent Afro-Cuban practice of containing the element within a vessel may actually reduce exposure risk [14, 68, 70].

Journal of Forensic Identification 18 / 67 (1), 2017 In fact, the most dangerous use of mercury–sprinkling, which results in mercury inhalation–may originate from a context outside the Afro-Cuban religious tradition, or even from a nonreligious context, possibly constituting personal or cultural superstition [14, 70]. We do not intend to imply that medicole- gal responders should not take precautions when dealing with mercury. However, we warn that censure of Palo practitio- ners’ use of mercury may inadvertently marginalize an already little-understood population, without accurately reflecting the realities of their exposure risk [14]. The Ethics of Analyzing Palo Assemblages In spite of their potential contamination with elemental mercury, nganga assemblages frequently include human remains and weapons, warranting thorough medicolegal investigation. Yet, disassembling an nganga is a destructive activity akin to excavating an archaeological site: the ritual elements contained within an nganga have accumulated in situ like sedimentary layers; once those contents are removed, their context is destroyed, and their spatial relations cannot be reconstructed. Thus, we recommend that ngangas be excavated–with photographs, notes, and sketches documenting the in situ arrangement of human remains and material culture as each layer of the ritual deposit is removed. In an approximation of archaeological excavation methodology, medicolegal analysts can first sketch, then photo- graph, and finally remove and inventory each arbitrary layer of ritual materials before beginning the investigation of the next, successively deeper arbitrary layer of materials. In this manner, analysts can determine the depositional sequence of an nganga’s diverse components [76], revealing the life history of an assem- blage that may include multiple episodes of animal sacrifice; the deposition of bilongos tracking a practitioner’s history of magical works; the inclusion of personal-identification media that could guide an investigation; and the placement of nfumbe- remains either within or atop an assemblage, depending on the benevolent or malevolent affinity of the nganga (i.e., prenda cristiana or judia). Medicolegal personnel should also describe the biological, material cultural, and taphonomic characteris- tics of the contents in detail to enable the identification of the patterns indicative of Palo practice and potentially to allow further specificity regarding nfumbe (Table 1). These analyses can also enable medicolegal personnel to identify how Palo remains are sourced [3, 32]. In spite of the popularity of cemeteries as sources for nfumbe, a minority of

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 19 Palo cases include remains prepared as anatomical specimens; forensic anthropologists are often able to confirm an anatomi- cal origin for these remains based on their biocultural and taphonomic traits [3, 32, 77–79]. In these cases, it is possible that the remains have been sourced legally. This highlights an ethical issue in medicolegal practice. Palo remains are typically confiscated during the investigation of unrelated crimes. They make their way to medical examiners, and ultimately to foren- sic anthropologists, for analysis. Because the remains used in Palo ritual are nearly always unidentified, and given the diver- sity of laws prohibiting the sale and personal ownership of human remains in multiple states [43], the remains are typically curated indefinitely at laboratories following analysis, or they are interred as unknowns. However, there may be situations in which the biocultural and taphonomic signatures of the remains indicate an anatomical origin [3, 32, 77–79], and state legislation permits the sale and possession of human remains [43]. On the rare occasions in which both of these conditions are met, return- ing these ritual objects to their owners may be more ethical than interring them or retaining them at laboratories. It is perhaps worth restating that the argument for return- ing Palo ritual assemblages only applies when state law permits ownership of remains and forensic anthropological analysis ensures that they were procured legally as anatomical specimens (approximately 11% of cases [3]). Further, it should be noted that Palo assemblages can only be returned when the respec- tive palero is known and the nganga assemblage is found in an in situ ritual context. For example, in situ nganga contexts represent 34% of Florida’s CAPHIL Palo cases [3]. However, in 25.5% of Florida Palo cases, nganga assemblages are second- arily deposited outside the ritual sphere [3]. These secondary deposits likely constitute intentional and permanent deposi- tional acts, and attempts should not be made to return remains to a practitioner in secondarily deposited cases. In essence, the threat of danger posed by a particularly potent nfumbe may have motivated the palero to remove the nganga assemblage from the ritual space. Bodies of water represent particularly common deactivation zones for such deposits. In cases where medicolegal personnel cannot ascertain legal procurement of anatomical nfumbe-remains, retention at a medicolegal facility likely represents best practice. This ensures that the remains are available for future analysis and transfer if forensic or archaeological significance is subsequently proven, or if the resolution of grave-robbing investigations allows repatri-

Journal of Forensic Identification 20 / 67 (1), 2017 ation of the remains to a disturbed grave. However, museum curation may be considered in those cases where remains appear anatomical but where respective practitioners are unknown, state laws prohibit sale and possession of human remains, or nganga assemblages are secondarily deposited outside the ritual sphere. The collections of the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of the American Latino or National Museum of African American History and Culture represent two possibilities for curation. Alternately, medicolegal professionals may find ways to dispose of these assemblages according to state or federal regulations, while preserving the original intention of the ritual deposition of the remains. We believe that the medicolegal community should not make these decisions on behalf of Palo practitioners, but rather should include them in this decision-making process. We hope that medicolegal analysts begin to work with members of Palo communities to develop culturally appropriate means of deter- mining the fate of legally obtained assemblages. When the owner of a set of ritual anatomical remains is unknown, or even when an owner is known but state legislation prohibits the noninstitu- tional ownership of human remains, museum curation of legally obtained remains may be preferable to laboratory retention or interment in anonymous graves. In contrast, Palo practitioners may not view museum curation and display as appropriate in cases where nganga assemblages have been secondarily depos- ited to diffuse the power of particularly dangerous nfumbe. In these cases, burial may be the most culturally appropriate disposal method. Employing paleros as medicolegal consultants is one option that could facilitate disposition practices that are both legally and culturally responsible. It is important to note that appropri- ately neutral consultants may be difficult to find in jurisdictions where Palo-related grave-robbing activities have occurred; however, as United States Palo-practitioner communities grow, searching outside of one’s local jurisdiction might reveal practi- tioner consultants who are willing to cooperate with medicolegal personnel. We believe that identifying these willing, neutral, and nonlocal consultants may be worth the effort. Practitioner consultants might consult with their religious communities in order to obtain consensus decisions for nganga disposition (i.e., museum curation, laboratory retention, anonymous inter- ment) that could guide medicolegal practice. These consultants might even conduct divination activities to determine the fate of legally obtained Palo cases in accordance with the will of

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 21 the spirits of their . Fostering goodwill between the medicolegal and Palo-practitioner communities also has the potential to open doors for these practitioner consultants to inform future medicolegal investigations. In forensic anthropology’s cousin discipline of archaeology, cultural resource management has utilized descendant-commu- nity consultation and participation to emphasize the coexistence and validity of both cultural and scientific knowledge [80–84]. We envision medicolegal professionals building bridges with Afro-Cuban communities by applying a similar model of practi- tioner-community engagement.

Conclusion Medicolegal practice has moved beyond a confusion of Palo with Ocha ritual. Medicolegal professionals can use recently published biocultural and taphonomic signatures [3] to differen- tiate between Palo and Ocha ritual assemblages–and potentially use the material cultural data presented herein (Table 1) to differ- entiate among the diverse types of Palo nganga assemblages. However, we emphasize several caveats important to a correct classification of Afro-Cuban ritual assemblages: (1) Although skulls, crania, and long bones indicate the presence of a Palo assemblage, phalanges are occasionally used in Ocha Babalú Ayé rituals; (2) Although pots and cauldrons are characteristic of Palo ngangas, small cauldrons may also appear in Ocha Ogún ritual assemblages; (3) Although Palo ngangas typically contain skulls or other nfumbe-remains, infrequently, prendas espiritu- ales do not contain human remains. The criminal component of certain Palo nganga assemblages can guide medicolegal investigations, and investigators must always consider the possibility that Palo remains are illegally sourced from cemeteries. However, we urge that the medicolegal community refrain from a default association of Palo practices with other criminal activities. Conducting taphonomic studies of Palo remains and engaging in interviews with informants can assist in determining when remains have been legally or illegally sourced. In those rare cases where ritual remains are ascertained to be the legal property of a Palo practitioner, we recommend returning these ritual objects to their owners. We recommend that medicolegal personnel employ universal personal-protection precautions when processing crime scenes containing Palo nganga assemblages in order to safeguard

Journal of Forensic Identification 22 / 67 (1), 2017 themselves from exposure to the elemental mercury frequently present in these assemblages. Law enforcement agencies may find it prudent to collaborate with hazardous materials teams to ensure that readings are taken of potentially contaminated materials before a scene is processed. In the laboratory context, radiography should be routinely used as a tool for identify- ing the presence of mercury in a ritual assemblage. However, we believe it likely that elemental mercury presents more of a danger to nonpractitioners than to members of the Palo commu- nity in light of research highlighting the poorly understood and often-responsible use of mercury by Afro-Cuban religious practitioners [14, 70]. We recommend that medicolegal profes- sionals excavate nganga assemblages responsibly, thoroughly documenting the spatial arrangement, material cultural context, and biological and taphonomic characteristics of their contents. Finally, we hope that the medicolegal community begins to explore nontraditional options for the curation of legally sourced ritual assemblages, potentially guided by consultation with Palo practitioners. Although the opinions expressed herein reflect medicole- gal analyses of Palo cases in the state of Florida, multi-sited, comparative medicolegal studies of Afro-Cuban rituals have also begun [85]. Such studies have the potential to reveal overall patterns and regional differences in Palo practices. If medicolegal professionals consider multiple lines of biological, taphonomic, material cultural, and ethnographic evidence, sensi- tive study of Afro-Cuban ritual assemblages can become the norm, rather than the exception. Medicolegal personnel can play an important role in the safe, ethical, and accurate classifica- tions of the unique assemblages of human remains and material culture resulting from Palo ritual practices.

Allysha Powanda Winburn Department of Anthropology, University of Florida Department of Anthropology, University of New Hampshire

Rafael Martinez Criminal Justice and Undergraduate Psychology Programs, Carlos Albizu University

Sarah Kiley Schoff Department of Anthropology, University of Florida

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 23 References 1. Wetli, C. V.; Martinez, R. Forensic Science Aspects of Santería, a Religious Cult of African Origin. J. For. Sci. 1981, 26 (3), 506–514. 2. Wetli, C. V.; Martinez, R. Brujería: Manifestations of Palo Mayombe in South Florida. J. Fla. Med. Assoc. 1983, 70 (8), 629–634a. 3. Winburn, A. P.; Schoff, S. K.; Warren, M. W. Assemblages of the Dead: Interpreting the Biocultural and Taphonomic Signature of Afro-Cuban Palo Practice in Florida. J. Afr. Diaspora Archaeol. Heritage 2016, 5 (1), 1–37. 4. Ochoa, T. R. Society of the Dead: Quita Manaquita and Palo Praise in Cuba; University of California Press: Berkeley, CA, 2010. 5. Palmié, S. Wizards and Scientists: Explorations in Afro- Cuban Modernity and Tradition; Duke University Press: Durham, NC, 2002. 6. Brandon, G. Santería from Africa to the New World. The Dead Sell Memories; Indiana University Press: Indianapolis, IN, 1997. 7. Thornton, J. The Kingdom of Kongo and Palo Mayombe: Reflections on an African-American Religion. Slavery Abol. 2016, 37 (1), 1–22. 8. Bergad, L. W.; García, F. I.; Barcia, M. C. The Cuban Slave Market, 1790-1880; Cambridge University Press: New York, NY, 1995. 9. Brown, D. H. Santería Enthroned: Art, Ritual, and Innovation in an Afro-Cuban Religion; The University of Chicago Press: Chicago, IL, 2003. 10. Gregory, S. Santería in New York City: A Study in Cultural Resistance. Thesis, New School for Social Research, New York, NY, 1986. 11. Wedel, J. Santería Healing: A Journey into the Afro-Cuban World of Divinities, Spirits, and Sorcery; University Press of Florida: Gainesville, FL, 2004. 12. Ochoa, T. R. Aspects of the Dead. In Cuba Today: Continuity and Change Since the ‘Periodo Especial’; Font, M. A., Ed.; Bidner Center for Western Hemispheric Studies, The Graduate Center, The City University of New York: New York, NY, 2004; pp 245–260. 13. Cabrera, L. El Monte; Ediciones Universal: Miami, FL, 1983. 14. Riley, D. M.; Newby, C. A.; Leal-Almeraz, T. O. Incorporating Ethnographic Methods in Multidisciplinary Approaches to Risk Assessment and Communication: Cultural and Religious Uses of Mercury in Latino and Caribbean Communities. Risk Anal. 2006, 26 (5), 1205–1221.

Journal of Forensic Identification 24 / 67 (1), 2017 15. Frohock, F. M. The Free Exercise of Religion: Lukumi and Animal Sacrifice. Institute for Cuban & Cuban-American Studies Occasional Papers, University of Miami Scholarly Repository: Miami, FL, 2001; Paper 22. 16. Murphy, J. M. Santería. An African Religion in America; Beacon Press: Boston, MA, 1988. 17. Bettelheim, J. Palo Monte Mayombe and its Influence on Cuban Contemporary Art. Afr. Arts 2001, 34 (2), 36–49, 94–96. 18. Flores-Peña, Y. M. Lucumí: The Second Diaspora. In Witchcraft and Magic: Contemporary North America; Berger, H. A., Ed.; University of Pennsylvania Press: Philadelphia, PA, 2005; pp 102–119. 19. Flores-Peña, Y. M.; Evanchuck, R. J. Santería Garments and Altars. Speaking Without a Voice; University Press of Mississippi: Jackson, MS, 1994. 20. Brown, D. H. Thrones of the Orichas: Afro-Cuban Altars in New Jersey, New York, and Havana. Afr. Arts 1993, 26 (4), 44–59, 85–87. 21. Dawson, C. D. The Universe in a Pot: Palo Mayombe in Cuba. Presented at Manifestations of the Divine: The Body, a mini- seminar of the 4th Encuentro of the Hemispheric Institute of Performance and Politics, New York, NY, 2003. 22. Ochoa, T. R. Prendas-Ngangas-Enquisos: Turbulence and the Influence of the Dead in Cuban-Kongo Material Culture. Cult. Anthropol. 2010, 25 (3), 387–420. 23. Gill, J. R.; Rainwater, C. W.; Adams, B. J. Santería and Palo Mayombe: Skulls, Mercury, and Artifacts. J. For. Sci. 2009, 54 (6), 1458–1462. 24. Martinez, R.; Wetli, C. V. Tattoos of the Marielitos. Am. J. For. Med. Pathol. 1989, 10 (4), 315–325. 25. Curry, M. C. Making the in New York: The in the African-American Community; Garland Publishing, Inc.: New York, NY, 1997. 26. Kosmin, B. A.; Mayer, E.; Keysar, A. American Religious Identification Survey; The Graduate Center of the City University of New York: New York, NY, 2001. 27. Greenhouse, L. The Supreme Court: Animal Sacrifice; Court, Citing Religious Freedom, Voids a Ban on Animal . New York Times, 12 June 1993, pp 1, 9. 28. Mather, G. A.; Nichols, L. A. Dictionary of Cults, , Religions and the Occult; Zondervan: Grand Rapids, MI, 1993.

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 25 29. Green, A.; Schultz, J. J.; Garavaglia, J. C. Ritualistic Use of Human Skeletal Remains: Is it Forensically Significant? Presented at the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Forensic Sciences, Orlando, FL, 2015. 30. Kail, T. M. Magico-Religious Groups and Ritualistic Activities: A Guide for First Responders; CRC Press: Boca Raton, FL, 2008. 31. Mundorff, A. Z. Urban Anthropology: Case Studies from the New York City Medical Examiner’s Office. In Hard Evidence: Case Studies in Forensic Anthropology; Steadman, D. W., Ed.; Prentice Hall: Upper Saddle River, NJ, 2003; pp 52–62. 32. Paolello, J. M.; Klales, A. R. Contemporary Cultural Alterations to Bone. In Manual of Forensic Taphonomy; Pokines, J. T., Symes, S. A., Eds.; CRC Press: Boca Raton, FL, 2013; pp 181–199. 33. Perlmutter, D. Investigating and Ritualistic Crimes; CRC Press: Boca Raton, FL, 2004. 34. Perlmutter, D. The Forensics of Sacrifice: A Symbolic Analysis of Ritualistic Crime. Anthropoetics 2003, 9 (2), 1–33. 35. Pokines, J. T. A Santería/Palo Mayombe Ritual Cauldron Containing a Human Skull and Multiple Artifacts Recovered in Western Massachusetts, U.S.A. For. Sci. Int. 2015, 248, e1–e7. 36. Walsh-Haney, H. A.; Schultz, J. J.; Falsetti, A. B.; Motte, R. W. Rituals Among the Santería: Contextual Clues and Forensic Implications. Presented at the 55th Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Forensic Sciences, Chicago, IL, 2003. 37. González-Wippler, M. Santería: African Magic in Latin America, 1st ed.; Julian Press, Inc.: New York, NY, 1973. 38. González-Wippler, M. Santería: African Magic in Latin America, 2nd rev. ed.; Original Publications: Plainview, NY, 1992, pp ii–iii. 39. Sanchez, S. M. Afro-Cuban Diasporan Religions: A Comparative Analysis of the Literature and Selected Annotated Bibliography. Institute for Cuban & Cuban- American Studies Occasional Papers, University of Miami Scholarly Repository: Miami, FL, 2000; Paper 27. 40. Thompson, R. F. Face of the Gods: The Artists and their Altars. Afr. Arts 1995, 28 (1), 50–61. 41. eBay. Human Remains and Body Parts Policy. http://pages. ebay.com/help/policies/remains.html (Accessed April 1, 2016).

Journal of Forensic Identification 26 / 67 (1), 2017 42. eBay. Human Remains and Body Parts Policy. http://pages. ebay.com/help/policies/remains.html (Accessed August 1, 2016). 43. Halling, C. L.; Seidemann, R. M. They Sell Skulls Online?! A Review of Internet Sales of Human Skulls on eBay and the Laws in Place to Restrict Sales. J. For. Sci. 2016, 61 (5), 1322–1326, doi: 10.1111/1556–4029.13147. 44. Seidemann, R. M.; Stojanowski, C. M.; Rich, F. J. The Identification of a Human Skull Recovered from an eBay Sale. J. For. Sci. 2009, 54 (6), 1247–1253. 45. Berryman, H. E.; Bass, W. M.; Symes, S. A.; Smith, O. C. Recognition of Cemetery Remains in the Forensic Setting. J. For. Sci. 1991, 36 (1), 230–237. 46. Rogers, T. L. Recognition of Cemetery Remains in a Forensic Context. J. For. Sci. 2005, 50 (1), 5–11. 47. Loren, D. D.; Beaudry, M. C. Becoming American: Small Things Remembered. In Historical Archaeology; Hall, M., Silliman, S. W., Eds.; Blackwell Publishing: Malden, MA, 2006; pp 251–271. 48. Schultz, J. J.; Williamson, M. A.; Nawrocki, S. P.; Falsetti, A. B.; Warren, M. W. A Taphonomic Profile to Aid in the Recognition of Human Remains from Historic and/or Cemetery Contexts. Fla. Anthropol. 2003, 56 (2), 141–147. 49. Pokines, J. T.; Zinni, D. P.; Crowley, K. Taphonomic Patterning of Cemetery Remains Received at the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, Boston, Massachusetts. J. For. Sci. 2016, 61 (S1), S71–S81. 50. Fla. Stat. § 775.082-084. Definitions; General Penalties; Registration of Criminals, 2015. 51. Fla. Stat. § 872.02. Offenses Concerning Dead Bodies and Graves, 2015. 52. Beard, B. L.; Johnson, C. M. Strontium Isotope Composition of Skeletal Material Can Determine the Birth Place and Geographic Mobility of Humans and Animals. J. For. Sci. 2000, 45 (5), 1049–1061. 53. Juarez, C. A. Strontium and Geolocation, the Pathway to Identification for Deceased Undocumented Mexican Border- Crossers: A Preliminary Report. J. For. Sci. 2008, 53 (1), 46–49. 54. Laffoon, J. E.; Rojas, R. V.; Hofman, C. L. Oxygen and Carbon Isotope Analysis of Human Dental Enamel from the Caribbean: Implications for Investigating Individual Origins. Archaeometry 2013, 55 (4), 742–765. 55. González-Wippler, M. Santería: The Religion, 2nd ed.; Llewellyn Publications: St. Paul, MN, 1996.

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 27 56. Langone, M. D.; Blood, L. O. Satanism and Occult-Related Violence: What You Should Know; The International Cultic Studies Association, Bonita Spring, FL, 2006. 57. Ortiz, F. Los Negros Brujos; Editorial de Ciencias Sociales: Havana, Cuba, 1995. 58. Humes, E. Buried Secrets: A True Story of Serial Murder, Black Magic, and Drug Running on the U.S. Border; Penguin Books: New York, NY, 1991. 59. Crouch, B. M.; Damphousse, K. R. Newspapers and the Anti- Satanism Movement: A Content Analysis. Sociol. Spectr. 1992, 12 (1), 1–20. 60. Wright, S. A. Satanic Cults, Ritual Abuse, and Moral Panic: Deconstructing a Modern Witch-Hunt. In Witchcraft and Magic: Contemporary North America; Berger, H. A., Ed.; University of Pennsylvania Press: Philadelphia, PA, 2005; pp 120–136. 61. Milligan, C.; Willey, P.; Perrone, A.; Bartelink, E. Cases from Chico State’s Human Identification Laboratory. Presented at the Annual Conference of the Mountain Desert and Coastal Forensic Anthropologists, Boulder City, NV, 2015. 62. Frisvold, N. M. Palo Mayombe: The Garden of Blood and Bones; Scarlet Imprint: Dover, U.K., 2010. 63. Matory, J. L. Free to be a Slave: Slavery as a Metaphor in the Afro-Atlantic Religions. J. Relig. Afr. 2007, 37 (3), 398–425. 64. Hispanic Health Council (HHC). Metallic Mercury (Azogue) and your Health. HHC Environmental Health Unit: Hartford, CT, undated; Information Booklet No. 1. 65. John Snow, Inc. Ritual Use of Mercury (Azogue) Assessment and Education Project, Final Project Report. JSI Center for Environmental Health Studies: Boston, MA, 2003. 66. Masur, L. C. A Review of the Use of Mercury in Historic and Current Ritualistic and Spiritual Practices. Altern. Med. Rev. 2011, 16 (4), 314–320. 67. Zayas, L. H.; Ozuah, P. O. Mercury Use in : A Survey of Botanicas. Am. J. Public Health 1996, 86 (1), 111–112. 68. U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). Task Force on Ritualistic Uses of Mercury Report; OSWER 9285.4- 07, EPA/540-R-01-005; Office of Emergency and Remedial Response: Washington, D.C., 2002. 69. Viladrich, A. Botánicas in America’s Backyard: Uncovering the World of Latino Healers’ Herb-Healing Practices in New York City. Hum. Organ. 2006, 65 (4), 407–419.

Journal of Forensic Identification 28 / 67 (1), 2017 70. Newby, C. A.; Riley, D. M.; Leal-Almeraz, T. O. Mercury Use and Exposure Among Santería Practitioners: Religious versus Folk Practice in Northern New Jersey, USA. Ethnic. Health 2006, 11 (3), 287–306. 71. Prasad, V. L. Subcutaneous Injection of Mercury: “Warding off Evil”. Environ. Health Perspect. 2004, 112 (13), 1326– 1328. 72. Forman, J.; Moline, J.; Cernichiari, E.; Sayegh, S.; Torres, J. C.; Landrigan, M. M.; Hudson, J.; Adel, H. N.; Landrigan, P. J. A Cluster of Pediatric Metallic Mercury Exposure Cases Treated with Meso-2,3-Dimercaptosuccinic Acid (DMSA). Environ. Health Perspect. 2000, 108 (6), 575–577. 73. McKelvey, W.; Jeffery, N.; Clark, N.; Kass, D.; Parsons, P. J. Population-Based Inorganic Mercury Biomonitoring and the Identification of Skin Care Products as a Source of Exposure in New York City. Environ. Health Perspect. 2011, 119 (2), 203–209. 74. Miami-Dade County Medical Examiner Department, Miami, FL. One-page notice sent to law enforcement agencies, undated. 75. Garetano, G.; Gochfeld, M.; Stern, A. H. Comparison of Indoor Mercury Vapor in Common Areas of Residential Buildings with Outdoor Levels in a Community where Mercury is Used for Cultural Purposes. Environ. Health Perspect. 2006, 114 (1), 59–62. 76. Harris, E. C. The Laws of Archaeological Stratigraphy. World Arch. 1979, 11 (1), 111–117. 77. Pokines, J. T. Taphonomic Characteristics of Former Anatomical Teaching Specimens Received at a Medical Examiner’s Office. J. For. Ident. 2015, 65 (2), 173–195. 78. Schultz, J. J. Determining the Forensic Significance of Skeletal Remains. In A Companion to Forensic Anthropology; Dirkmaat, D. C., Ed.; Blackwell Publishing, Ltd.: Malden, MA, 2012; pp 66–84. 79. Stubblefield, P. R. The Anatomical Diaspora: Evidence of Early American Anatomical Traditions in North Dakota. J. For. Sci. 2011, 56 (5), 1324–1327. 80. Atalay, S. Community-Based Archaeology: Research with, by, and for Indigenous and Local Communities; University of California Press: Berkeley, CA, 2012. 81. Colwell-Chanthaphonh, C. Archaeology and Indigenous Collaboration. In Archaeological Theory Today, 2nd ed.; Hodder, I., Ed.; Polity Press: Malden, MA, 2012; pp 267–291. 82. Kawelu, K. In Their Own Voices: Contemporary Native Hawaiian and Archaeological Narratives about Hawaiian Archaeology. Contemp. Pac. 2014, 26 (1), 31–62.

Journal of Forensic Identification 67 (1), 2017 \ 29 83. Kawelu, K.; Pakele, D. Community-Based Research: The Next Step in Hawaiian Archaeology. J. Pac. Archaeol. 2014, 5 (2), 62–71. 84. Watkins, J. Indigenous Archaeology: American Indian Values and Scientific Practice; Alta Mira Press: Walnut Creek, CA, 2000. 85. Winburn, A. P.; Rainwater, C. W.; Hart, G. O.; Schoff, S. K.; Parr, N. M. The Biocultural Signature of Afro-Caribbean Religious Rituals from a Multiregional Medicolegal Perspective. Presented at the Annual Meeting of the American Association of Physical Anthropologists, Atlanta, GA, 2016.

Journal of Forensic Identification 30 / 67 (1), 2017