Okay, so where did I leave off? Ah, yes, so 6 am bus out of Maputo. An eight hour bus ride after a six hour bus ride the day before. But, that's all okay, because Andile is going to be waiting at the other end, and I will be back where they speak English, and I can relax, and have a shower. All will be good. Oh, but wait, not so fast! Right as I'm crossing form Swaziland into South Africa, seconds after I change my SIM card, I get a call from Andile:
"Where are you?"
"In Swaziland. Just crossing the border into Zed A." (some slang for South Africa)
"When will you be here?"
"Um. I don't know. Aren't you the local? Shouldn't you know that?"
"Cause we're going to Sne's house in the Eastern Cape."
"Um, pardon?"
"I definitely told you! We are leaving today."
"I'm sorry. I got no such message. What do you mean we're going today?! I don't get in until four or five."
"Shoot. Ok, let me call you back..."
Great, now either I'm going to end up in another car, extending my road trip or arriving in Durban with no place to go. Awesome. Phone rings a few minutes later:
"Okay, we'll wait for you. We'll leave when you get here."
I don't know whether I should be relieved because now I am not abandoned in Durban, yet now I'm looking at some extensive hours added on to my road trip.
I arrive at the bus station at 4ish, as predicted, and am picked up by Andile and her friend Siwe. They have very graciously brought me pillows because they figured I would want to sleep. So sweet! We then go on a frenzy of errands of picking up drinks and ice to picking up more people to join our caravan. At some point during all of this, I decipher that we are in for about a six hour drive. Awesome. We are heading to Queenstown, Eastern Cape for our friend Sne's younger brother's initiation party, which will be explained further as the story continues.
Everything is kind of a blur after this, thanks in part to my travel exhaustion. But, basically, ten hours and a near death experience later we were in rural Queenstown, Eastern Cape, South Africa, at my dear friend Sne's kraal. As we were coming in to sleep off some of our travels, the women were already getting up to start preparing the food for the festivities.
We sleep for a couple hours admist many, many bodies of women and children in this tiny house. I wake up and women are cooking away. They are so kind as to offer me breakfast first as a guest. I eat the steam bread hungrily (they don't have ovens in rural areas often, so they make bread over a stove), but I have to pass on the tripe. Not that I'm not open to trying it, but probably not such a good idea when I'm recovering from over 72 hours of traveling and am stuck in a rural area, sharing a pit toilet with God knows how many people. It's only now, in daylight, that I get my first chance to look around the area and realize we are in a totally different landscape than KZN (KwaZulu-Natal - my hood), and it's breathtaking.
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| Pretty hills and mist, oh and a pit toilet. Gotta have the token pit toilet. |
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| Our outside kitchen |
Now they are all very tickled to see a white girl there and even more tickled when I ask to be put to work after I wash up. They even honor me with my very own apron. My day's work consisted of peeling carrots (with a good old fashioned knife, not some fancy-dancy peeler we are all used to) and cutting lots and lots of cabbage, among other things.
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| Inside kitchen |
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| Impromptu kitchen photoshoot! They insisted. |
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| Cutest baby ever. Just cause. |
So, a little background: Sne is a Xhosa, like Tony from Team Paramount, as well as Nelson Mandela. Their people are mainly located in the Eastern Cape, but there is a decent sized population in Cape Town as well. Initiation is a ritual that young men go through in their culture. They go out into the wilderness with the men of their family and often other community members (all male, many elders) and sometimes other boys that are going through the process at the same time. They spend around a month living out in the bush "learning how to be a man", which, because of me being an outsider and a woman, is a bunch of secret stuff. I've had the privilege of getting to talk to Tony about it at lengths and he is pretty open about it in comparison, though he definitely keeps the secret stuff secret. He's explained to me how they speak a special language, eat special food, and learn customs, such as how to treat elders, including how to greet and how to serve. Most stuff beyond that is pretty secret. The more well known part of the ritual is towards the end of the month they undergo traditional circumcision, which is more or less taking a straight blade to the foreskin, no pain killers. Yeah, and you wonder why African men consider themselves stronger. Tony says that during the following recovery days there are very special rules that apply, such as limited food and water. This is done to reach states of mind that require experiencing pain and suffering. Like I said, they don't mess around.
As you can imagine, there are some HIV risks involved with this procedure, such as using the same blade on multiple men. Remember, HIV is contracted at a young age here, hence why my organization is targeting the adolescent population, so a 16, 17, 18 year old being HIV+ is not uncommon. There are also issues of infection, blood loss and other complications. Many people associate these complications with the procedure being done in the "old-fashioned" way and out in the middle of a forest more or less. Now, here is the conundrum: so why don't they simply replace it with the safer medical circumcision? Well, because there is major, major stigma of going about it the non-traditional route. Tony explains that those who are not circumcised in the traditional manner (either not at all or through a medical procedure) are not considered a man. This entails them not being included in the male rituals, being forced to sit with the women during functions and if there are any traditional ceremonies, like a wedding, in his honor, none of his male peers will attend because they don't consider him a man. Basically he is labeled a "sissy", and there are some major consequences here to being labeled a sissy. This has led young men who's parents won't let them go about it the traditional route/force medical circumcision instead to run away and obtain a traditional circumcision on their own, or even commit suicide. Clearly it is a major issue if it is the difference between being included and accepted in your community or not, which is important anywhere, but especially in these community based cultures, where tribal influence still holds a lot of weight. So it is a thin line, between imposing sterility/public health practices that seem so obvious to us and respecting their culture and traditions. Tony and I have talked a lot about how we can bridge the divide, such as requiring small changes, for example using a new clean blade for every male, and maybe doing some basic prelim checks to check for HIV (makes more susceptible to infection) or bleeding disorders (will tie this in later). For example, Tony has a young son, and he is more than sure that he wants his son to go through the process as he did himself, but he will make sure that he is there to monitor and that they use safe and clean practices. The problem is that many people are threatened by any change. They fear it is a slippery slope. And I don't blame them. Considering the history in which they have been stripped of their culture and identity before, along with the very apparent influence by outside forces (especially American), a lot of culture is already slipping away, and this is one piece that is still valued and maintained.
What they do do in the Eastern Cape, where most of the Xhosa reside, is the Department of Health has implemented a campaign that utilizes a team that does home visits to evaluate the boys periodically when they return from their stint to check that the wound is healing appropriately, etc. We happened to run into said team as we were leaving the kraal that evening, and they had these badass windbreakers, you know like CSI/FBI style, that said, no joke, "Official Circumcision Team". Hells yeah. I got to get me one of those. I tried to persuade them to sell me one, but no such luck. I think they thought I was joking.
Now, in contrast, the Zulu people don't have anything comparable for males. But, you could make the parallel with the umemulo the females go through (reference previous blogpost). And interestingly, the Xhosa don't have anything comparable for females. So, one of my Zulu friends was making the interesting observation that this kind of corresponds with the stereotypes among the cultures between the genders. Both Zulu men and Xhosa women are often perceived to be aggressive, rude, and unruly, perhaps correlating with their lack of grooming in their younger years, while Xhosa men and Zulu women are considered to be stand-up and respectful, perhaps associated with their refining processes. Interesting...
So, now the next logical question, well I guess if you are a public health nerd, is if the Zulu men do not undergo the same process, does that mean they are not traditionally circumcised? Well, good question! They were a long, long time ago, but then King Shaka (if you don't know who he is, you should check him out, he's a badass) felt it kept too many of his soldiers occupied and unfit to fight as they recovered, so he ordered that it be stopped. Since circumcision has been proved to decrease HIV transmission, the Zulu king (yes, they have a king, and some of my friends are part of the royal family, no big deal) has come out promoting circumcision for his people. This is a start, but trying to convince men in a male chauvinist society that all of sudden he should get his foreskin cut off... yeah.... about that... My organization focuses on adolescents, which entails convincing 15, 16, 17 year old boys to let us cut off a piece of their penis more or less. Not the easiest sell. But, our awesome team has been more than successful (woo!) and have recruited so many that we are beyond the capacity of the DOH circumcision camps they offer here. The circumcision camps offer male focused health education partnered with the medical circumcision procedure, along with the appropriate pre-op screening, including HIV testing and blood count, just a couple of the things that Tony and I talked about. So now I'm heading up a team to start our own circumcision camps. Woo! Little 25 year old white blond girl will apparently show you how it's done. God help those poor African teenage boys.
Ok, back to the story. So, we were there to celebrate the end of Sne's brothers rite of passage. He had returned home the night before. It was only when they beckoned me to come sing and dance to greet Sne's brother as he entered the festivities that I realized I had barely seen a male over the age of 10 all day. As a procession of males came out, I realized that they were all holed up in a separate house, separate from the women and the cooking and the preparations, doing special man things. Only later did Tony explain to me that the now "man" is not supposed to see any women until the festivities/party starts. We danced and sang the procession of men to the tent (a good tent is an integral part of any South African celebration, the bigger the tent, the bigger the party, and probably the richer your host, a sweet way to show off).
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| One of Sne's aunts dressed in traditional garb with face paint ready to greet the men with song and dance. |
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| THE TENT! (pretty big one if I say so myself) |
And man do these people talk. In Zulu. Thank God med school taught me how to look like I'm paying attention and interested even when I have no idea what's going on. It's all about the smile and nod, my friends. And people are thoroughly impressed. My friends will do a double take and suddenly realize, "Jessica! You have no idea what's going on right now!"
"Nope."
"Then why do you look like you do?!"
"Impressive, huh?"
Two notes on the speeches.
One, it is amazing how even when you might not literally understand what's going on, you can be touched. Sne's mom spoke with such emotion that almost everybody in the tent was in tears. I learned later that Sne's father had passed away just this last May and had been looking forward to this day, being part of it, seeing his son become a man. He was very missed. Even by those who never met him.
Two, along with the family and the "family" (you know what I'm talking about, all the "aunts" and "uncles" and "cousins", they even pull the "brother" and "sister" here, and sometimes I have to be like whoa, whoa, whoa, who is related to who?!) speeches, you have to have preachers. Now, I've witnessed the preachers here in South Africa during other events, such as weddings, but that made some sense to me because there were religious components as well as traditional components. But, to my understanding, the initiation is a tribal based custom, with no religious component. Yet, they have managed to intertwine their religion, illustrating the extent of the colonizing influence. For example they were quoting Bible verses about circumcision in reference to this traditional rite of passage, yet the traditional ceremony was created and used long before the Bible was introduced to these people. From what I gather, people have mixed feelings about incorporating religion into traditional ceremonies. Religion definitely adds another component that you have to consider and balance when attempting to understand the culture here.
One preacher went on so long that we eventually just started feeding people. People couldn't wait any longer. They had me serving and people thought it was just the darndest thing to have their food served to them by a white person. They couldn't help but laugh.
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| The preacher - and of course stereotypically wiping off the sweat with his handkerchief. Too good. |
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| Oh! And now the people are on their feet! |
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| And now the hands are waving. Hallelujah! |
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| My bored compatriots |
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| Food! And I helped! |
I also got the chance to spend some quality time with Sne's grandma who does not speak a lick of English, but is the Xhosa version of my Nana. If any of you know Mary Steele, this is the African version of her. Her whole self, from her appearance, to her demeanor, to how she spoke and addressed people. It was classic. I was head over heels in love. Luckily the feeling was mutual. Thanks to Sne's translation we were able to express our mutual love for each other. She told me all about how she appreciated that though I was white, I included myself, and didn't separate myself. I was part of the festivities and she was glad I felt so welcome. Basically, we were two peas in a pod. She kept turning to me throughout their conversation just to repeat, (with the pointy finger and everything, for you Mary Steele fans out there): "You. I like you." Thank you very much Sne's Grandma. And I like you.
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| Sne and her grandma. So cute! |
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| Oooh girl! This is the look I get when I say something my Nana is not too fond of. |
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| Telling her stories, just like Nana. And she had some amazing stories. Nana had the Depression while Sne's grandma has apartheid. |
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| Just too cute. The very Nana "I concur" look. |
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| Reaching for the cigs. Nah, just kidding, but wouldn't that be great?! Oh Nana... Love you and miss you! |
Once everybody had eaten and we had cleared the plates, we made our exit, heading to Sne's family's home in town to spend the night where there was a little more space. I more or less passed out due to pure exhaustion after all the traveling and adventures. The next morning we got up and started back to Durban, which quickly turned into an adventure when we became lost and ended up taking an unofficial tour of the Wild Coast. Beautiful, I have to say, absolutely gorgeous. But, I think I was the only one entertained with the scenery. Oops. But, we did learn that speaking Zulu all the time when the mulungu (white person) can't understand can be detrimental for the team, even when it is easier and you're tired and it's funny to watch her confused, because sometimes the mulungu actually knows where we are going and has answers to the questions if only you would give her a chance and ask her. So there. What now?!
When we finally got back to Durban, 8+ hours later, I was about ready to pass out again. Luckily Siwe and Andile insisted I eat and take a bath (being as it had been 5 days since I had taken a real bath, since Tofo - don't get me wrong, I did some rinsing in a bucket bath, but they were thoroughly disgusted with me). I have to say I hadn't taken a hot bath since I don't know when, but wow, such an under-appreciated luxury. And then I got to sleep in my own bed with a real mattress for the first time since... geez... I don't know...
The next morning we went out to do our pre-New Years Eve errands, which involved getting doughnuts, washing the car (obvi - people are obsessed with car care here, think it has to do with appreciating and caring for the few things they have with significant monetary value), going to the mall to get outfits (obvi again), and soon enough the partying begins. Woot woot!
For the night's festivities I ended up at a white party in a schnazzy hotel at the waterfront in Durban. Now, I have to say something. White parties (i.e. where you have to be dressed completely in white) were created for black people (thank you, Diddy, or whatever he is called now). They look FANTASTIC in white. Us white people on the other hand, not so much. Thank god I was decently tan from my Mozambique adventures.
The next day I spent exploring all the luxuries of Durban, aka good pizza and a movie theater. You have to remember this was the first time I had been in a decently developed metropolis since Cape Town in November (Maputo only kind of counts). The next day we went and picked up Timmy boy from the airport. I have to say I was pretty grateful to have my partner in crime back and someone that would talk straight English with me. We headed back to Mtubes and had a few days to hang out and have some friends from Cape Town visit before, soon enough, we were back at work. Woo!
Ok, I think that's it. Wow. That was a very extensive holiday re-telling. But, lots of adventures and memories! :)
I guess what is going on at work is what's up next... Definitely not as exciting, but interesting, I at least think so. So, that's coming. As well as I believe that I still owe a piece about death and dying here. A couple incidents recently put that back into focus for me, so hopefully that will come soon as well. And of course, the entertaining shorts will continue. :) Have some good stuff stockpiled. For now, enjoy!
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