When I Was Called to Serve as Cambono to the Chief Caboclo

Some callings arrive before we feel prepared

At the time, we do not always notice.

Some moments arrive without warning. They do not seem grand. They do not seem
decisive. They seem like just one more change inside something that was
already unfolding.

Only later do they reveal how much weight they carried.

That is how I now see the moment when I was called to serve as cambono for the
chief caboclo of the terreiro.

In Umbanda, a cambono is the person who assists the entity during the
gira, helping organize what is needed and supporting, in a very practical
way, part of what happens there. In this text, I reflect on what it meant to
be called to serve as cambono to the chief caboclo of the house and how that
changed my understanding of spiritual responsibility.

At that moment, I would not yet have been able to say it so clearly. I only
felt that something was changing. But I still did not understand that this
would be one of those moments when life places a responsibility in our hands
before we feel ready to carry it.

When the chromotherapy work came to an end

At that time, I was already responsible for the house’s chromotherapy work.

It was a role I had grown attached to.

Even with all the uncertainty of the beginning, that space had become
important to me. I had learned to like it. In a way, I had also begun to
recognize myself there.

So when Caboclo Tupinambá said that the chromotherapy room would remain closed
that day, and that from then on I would no longer be in charge of that work,
my first reaction was not understanding.

It was doubt.

Maybe even a sense of loss.

My inner reaction was immediate, even if silent: what would my role be now?
Had I done something wrong? Why was that cycle ending?

Today I can see more calmly that it was not about having made a mistake.

It was simply the closing of one stage so that another could begin.

But at that moment, I still had no way of seeing it like that.

What It Means to Serve as Cambono for the Chief Caboclo in Umbanda

Soon after, Caboclo Tupinambá asked me to help him that night.

He also asked the person who was already beside him to help me in the
beginning.

That was how, during that gira, I served as cambono for the chief caboclo
and also for the preto-velho Pai Joaquim da Guiné, who worked through the same
medium who led the house.

In Umbanda, the cambono is the person who assists the entity during
the gira, accompanying the work, organizing whatever is needed, and
supporting, in a very practical way, part of what happens there. But I was
beginning to realize that serving as cambono for the caboclo who led the house
was something different.

Not because that role was better than the others.

But because its function was different.

An entity that comes for a specific consultation is focused on the work it
brings that night. The chief caboclo, however, carries a broader attention. He
looks at the gira as a whole: the mediums, the mediumistic circle, the
assistência, the people arriving in search of help, the flow of the work, and
also what needs care before, during, and after it.

And the cambono, in some way, has to keep up with that.

That first time, I still did not understand everything.

But I could already feel that the scale was different.

When I Accepted the Role of Head Cambono in the Terreiro

When that night ended, the question came.

Caboclo Tupinambá asked whether I wanted to take on the role of head
cambono of the terreiro. In other words, whether I would begin assisting him
more directly, helping the medium who led the house and also the entities who
worked through him.

It was a question.

But, as had happened other times before, it did not feel exactly like an open
question.

It was one of those situations in which the direction was already present
inside the words.

He briefly explained what that would mean for me.

And this time, he also announced to the whole mediumistic circle what that
change would mean for the house.

Maybe that was when I felt most clearly that I was entering another place.

Not only beside an entity.

But into a new position inside the terreiro itself.

Why me?

The truth is that I did not feel ready.

I had only been in that terreiro for a few months.

I had only been in Umbanda itself for a few months.

Other people had been there much longer. Some had grown up inside that
religion. Others already had a long relationship with the house, with the
mediumistic circle, or with other terreiros.

I did not.

So along with the joy of receiving that trust came a very strong question: why
me?

What was I doing there to receive trust of that size?

I did not have that much confidence in myself.

Looking back now, it seems to me that some callings arrive exactly like that.
Not when we feel ready, but while we are still trying to understand why we
have been placed there.

Maybe part of maturing begins precisely inside that discomfort.

What changed in practice

In practice, that role changed many things.

The guidance given by the chief caboclo during the gira — and also in
everything surrounding the work of the house — often passed through me.

I had to communicate requests, pass on directions, and try, as best I could,
to make sure those things were taken seriously.

At the same time, many people began to come to me.

They would ask what the night would be like, what could or could not be done,
what should happen, or they would bring requests and questions that had not
reached me before.

And that felt strange in the beginning, because many times I still did not
know what to do with all those questions myself.

Suddenly, my voice carried a different weight inside the terreiro.

Not because I had become someone full of answers.

But because I had been placed in a position where many people now expected
some kind of answer from me.

What Spiritual Responsibility Began to Mean to Me as a Cambono

Looking back today, I see that this role brought me closer to a more concrete
dimension of spiritual responsibility.

Not only in the sense of carrying out a function.

But in the sense of understanding more clearly what the house was trying to
sustain.

Charity.

Respect for the house and for other people.

Care for those who arrived seeking help.

Support for those who came in a more fragile state.

And also the humility not to confuse function with personal importance.

In theory, I already knew that work in Umbanda required responsibility.

But it was in that place that I began to see more clearly what that really
meant.

What began there

My routine changed.

My attention changed.

The way I looked at the gira changed too.

I began to observe not only what was happening in front of me, but everything
that surrounded the work. What came before, during, and after it all began to
carry a different weight.

My relationship with Umbanda itself also grew closer.

The work was often tiring. It demanded attention. It demanded presence. It
demanded steadiness. But it was also deeply rewarding.

My relationship with the entities changed.

The fear I had in the beginning gradually disappeared. Little by little, that
closer coexistence brought more naturalness, more trust, and more openness to
a kind of dialogue that had once seemed much too distant to me.

And my spiritual posture matured as well.

Today it is hard for me to separate the medium I was becoming from the place I
began to occupy that day.

Maybe that is why I return so often to that moment.

Because looking back, I can see that it was not just a change of role.

It was the beginning of a different way of walking my spiritual path.

The cycle I only understood later

At that moment, I had no way of measuring what was beginning.

I only knew that one cycle had ended and another was opening.

Only much later did I realize that this new place would teach me more than I
could possibly have imagined. Not only about the terreiro or about the
entities, but about something simpler and more difficult: life does not always
wait for us to feel ready before entrusting something to us.

Sometimes trust comes first.

And that is exactly what begins to transform us.

That is how it was for me that night.

What seemed like only a change of function became the beginning of a deeper
way of living Umbanda, responsibility, and care for others.

Entre mundos.

And perhaps some of the most important steps in the journey begin exactly when
we still do not quite know how to carry them.