Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Another Year Of Eunuch Life In Transkei






I find it hard to believe that we have been living here in Qolora for a year already. What have I learnt during that time you might ask? Well something interesting is that many roosters get castrated. It’s a special skill, practised by a couple of trained grandmothers or old men who know which part of the internal bits to remove. They turn the bird over, deftly slice under the ribs, pop out the goonies and slice off the unwanted bits. Where I come from, people take their poor cats and dogs to the vet where they leave their testicles and their dignity behind and return home docile and less likely to roam the neighbourhood. Loosing your manliness would take the wind out of your bag I guess. Anyway here in Qolora, all the dogs are brown, scrawny, hungry and from the same stock. Having more than one cock on your property is more of an issue though as they will fight each other to the death to put claim to their roost of hens. Turns out our hen, the one who doesn't lay eggs, but occasionally squawks a pathetic sort of crow and doesn't partake in any recreational fowl play around the yard other than an occasional dash, isn't who we thought she was. After she grew tail feathers, I asked a Xhosa woman who probably thought I was as thick as a plank for not knowing the basic facts of life, to identify our unique fowl. Turns out our eunuch chicken has been under the knife which explains his behaviour and why he’s getting so fat. He is meant for the pot but Theo doesn't seem to be making a move to slaughter it as he’s too busy figuring out what to do with only one egg per day. Meanwhile the eunuch rooster doesn't know where it fits in, the functional rooster is getting cockier every day and the hen is getting laid more often than she is laying eggs.
Besides learning about the schematics of our chickens, I've also learnt that facebook is addictive. I was probably one of the last people to succumb to its web of exploit. Now, every time someone has an epiphany or comes across a quote proclaiming peace and happiness it seems I'm also informed along with the rest of the world. I've joined an Anti Animal Cruelty group and I'm horrified at my response of being reminded daily that I belong to the same human race as those repulsive people who abuse animals, yet I do nothing about it. I've become bored with the window into other peoples lives but I still find myself scrolling down daily looking for something but goodness knows what it could be.
Naturally, the two most important things I've learnt while here in Transkei is the Xhosa culture (which is an ongoing quest) and the Transkei education system, the first being intriguing and the second being shocking. Here, the Xhosa style of cooking is not very imaginative and copious amounts of oil and Aromat are the only flavourants used. All cuts of meat are chopped into hunks and boiled in their own juice or braaied. Xhosa people share their food readily and when feeding visitors, the correct etiquette is to fill your guest’s cup and plate to the brim. People always carry left overs home. Xhosa women enjoy their tea or coffee very hot and use a tablespoon to sip from their cup. Umfino is a bitter leafy wild vegetable boiled with pap and oil. Vegetables can be chopped into minuscule pieces without using a chopping board or a mixer. Much less preservatives or additives are eaten in the Xhosa diet so people don’t suffer as much from cancer and other modern diseases.
I've learnt that getting my tongue to click at different angles in my mouth at the same time as pronouncing a bunch of syllables is difficult. I've learnt that Xhosa people are in no hurry to get anywhere and they love singing while doing chores, walking, visiting, partying or any occasion. Gospel tunes are favoured. Night time singing while walking home through the hills makes one feel braver in the dark. Ululating and repeatedly flicking out your hand towards someone is a show of appreciation and handshakes are a three part ritual which has nothing to do with rappers. The colour of the beautiful, beaded, traditional outfits of wraps, skirts, aprons and headgear worn by older women often vary from area to area. A new bride’s patience is tested as she is expected to serve her inlaws hand and foot for the first few weeks of her marriage. A man with a foreskin is still a boy. A medicine person treats patients without asking them to describe their ailments as opposed to a regular doctor who does, thereby exposing their incompetence for having to extract the ailment from the patient. A medicine person also treats cases of bad luck and psychological ailments.
Xhosa superstitions are different to western superstitions. Black cats, ladders, Friday the 13th, 7 years of bad luck from broken mirrors, salt over your shoulder, lucky charms which keep one safe or help you rugby team win and number 3, 7, 13 or 666 are not considered. Sitting on your front step blocking your front door is considered unlucky because you are preventing a family member from returning from whatever place they have travelled to for a length of time. Dangling a needle over your pregnant friend’s stomach to find out if she’s carrying a boy or a girl isn’t practised but if you have twins it used to be recommended to plant a Euphorbia (Naboom) which is a hardy plant and as long as the plant grows strongly, so will the children be healthy.
I’ve learnt that funerals are a very big part of Xhosa life and that if a young man disrespects his tradition by not attending, (which also leaves less men to dig the hole) he can be fined as much as R500 by the elders. I’ve learnt that important family decisions are made based on people’s dreams and that even ancestors can get very jealous of each other. I’ve learnt that killing a cow sorts out a lot of issues.
The most important aspect of Xhosa culture is the traditional belief in ancestors. This is changing and unfortunately as younger people are drawn to a more modern lifestyle in cities, so their customs are being forgotten.
And then there’s the education system. Where to start. Well, the whole system sucks. Teachers, themselves struggling with the English language, ineffectively teaching in schools without sufficient desks, chairs, books, working toilets, jammed into overcrowded classrooms, regular absenteeism and led by principals without any management training is the norm. I’m learning to go with the flow but seeing the system fail the learners on a daily basis is frustrating.
I think the most important thing I’m learning is that the way I view my world determines my place in it. I’m here in Transkei to observe not to judge.



Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Rondebosch Twinning

A crisp morning breeze whipped around my face as I waved my goodbyes to the last of the Isolomzi students as they headed home. The workshop had come to an end and the 14 Isolomzi students were left with memories and experiences never to be forgotten. I felt privileged to be a part of it.


It all started a while back when Theo and I visited Isolomzi High and found a competent principal at the helm of his exceptional school and things just snowballed from there. Word reached Rondebosch Boys High in Cape Town via Jock and the following Easter holidays Rowan, the Maths guru from Rondebosch High and Marion, his better half, offered to visit our centre and get a feel for the challenges faced by schools out here in Transkei. They brought hundreds of text books and maths papers with to distribute to students who visit our centre. There are 2 high schools in the Qolora area fed by about 15 junior schools. Tyali High is a typical overcrowded high school and learners struggle to get a proper education whereas the charismatic principal of Isolomzi High saw the opportunity and after Rowan and Marion visited his school, ties between Isolomzi and Rondebosch High were established.


A one week workshop was planned by a Rondebosch team for the June holidays and everyone was pretty excited about things to come. Jock and 4 teachers drove 8 Rondebosch city boys all the way up from Cape Town to meet 14 selected students from rural Isolomzi High. Jock opened his house and his heart and the Cape Town crowd settled into his holiday cottage while the Isolomzi students moved into 2 accommodation rondavels here at our centre.
The Rondebosch boys were soon to learn how privileged they were to have access to a good education on their doorstep, running water, money and a functional home. The Isolomzi students were given a window into the lives of white city boys and learnt about cultures in a rural village.


Monday kicked off with a meet and greet and students from both schools had their first opportunity to get to learn a little bit about each other. Everyone seemed relaxed and short before long they were kicking a ball around outside and things just flowed from there.


Our days were filled with activities, tour guided outings and free time for the students to relax. The Rondebosch boys were jovial and entertained us with their light hearted banter while the Isolomzi students were more academically orientated and grabbed every opportunity to learn as much as they could. They were thrilled to all get email and facebook accounts and hopefully they will stay in touch with each other.


Ross, the aspiring Rondebosh Boys High chef, prepared most meals for us, except the samp and beans (umngqusho) which the city boys found a bit too unpalatable for their taste buds. On the other hand, the Isolomzi students were not accustomed to western style of cooking and not everyone enjoyed Ross’s delicious garlic mussels, broccoli and cheese sauce and even green beans were too exotic for most of them.


We went on 2 informative guided tours, one to the home of an igqirha (medicine woman) and the second one was a short hike and a boat trip to the Gates, a picturesque geological fissure through which the Qolora river runs. We were told about Xhosa history and interesting information about traditional uses of plant life. The igqirha showed us how to pound mielies, winnow them into different sizes for different dishes and some of us brave ones tasted a white frothy concoction which she pounded from tree roots and which keeps evil spirits away. Bjorn was the only one brave enough to get elbow deep in fresh sloppy cow dung and smear it over the floor, a tradition still practiced once a week in many homes here. Johan, the photographer, captured all the memorable moments on his camera, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he blackmailed the boys for their hilarious attempts at singing, making animal noises and beat boxing during the talent show. Johan is also a professional swimmer and gave the Isolomzi boys a swimming lesson in the lagoon. Both Jordan and Eddie’s loud mouths kept the party alive at all times.


Isolomzi beat Rondebosch at every single competition from the debate, topic being fracking, to the beautiful gospel singing at the talent show. Eddie was beaten by Anathi at chess and Isolomzi even beat Rondebosch on the sports field in a relaxed game of soccer and a casual game of touch rugby.


Tinei, from the Isolomzi group, showed leadership qualities and directed a short movie about the life of a rural girl. I would love to see it completed, edited and posted on Youtube.


Theo entertained us with a fantastic fire poi show and I held my breath, praying he wouldn’t burst into flames as it was his first time ever.
The maths teachers gave a workshop at our centre and the place was packed with additional Isolomzi students who arrived for the lessons, all dressed smartly in their school uniforms.


Two of the maths teachers organized a session for the girls to create dream posters where we had fun cutting and sticking magazine clippings which we found inspiring.


We ended the week with a lovely 3 course dinner for everyone at Trennery’s Hotel on Friday night after spending the day at Isolomzi High school for a special function. Representatives of the Department of Education were invited to the school function as well as a large group of influential guests, all connected to Rondebosch Boys High who coincidentally happened to be staying at Trennerys hotel on holiday and were keen to attend. The Xhosa culture at the school function was evident in the beautiful singing and as always, I swallowed a lump in my throat as the room swelled with the melodies of praise singing. The students captivated the audience with a few skits. The theme was anti drugs and the importance of education and even though the message was serious, they managed to humour the crowd and had us in stitches. Of course there was traditional dancing by the boys who kept the beat with a guitar, drums and a kuduzela. The girls received supportive ululating as they stomped around in time to the makeshift drum and all looked stunning dressed as mamas in their beautiful traditional outfits and painted faces.


Pride swelled from Mr Butshingi and for the first time I saw the man almost, but not quite (I don’t think that’s possible), lost for words. Years of hard work, alienation from surrounding schools, opposition from parents and elders, personal attacks on his character, lack of support from previous teachers, union interference, having to educate students from junior secondary schools who fail to come close to preparing students for high school, poverty, faction fighting and lack of resources are all issues which he has faced at his school. His hard work paid off and for a day he felt like a prince as everyone congratulated him on his success. Later that night at the Trennery’s dinner, I heard promises of further support from the other Rondebosch guests and the possibility of twinning Rondebosch Prep with other schools in the area was even mentioned.


The workshop was a great success towards building further relations and plans are already under way for September holidays when teachers will return to assist with winter school at Isolomzi.


The students of Isolomzi High have to work 3 times as hard as other students to achieve their outstanding results and their dedication and efforts have been acknowledged and the rewards will follow. The pride I felt for these students and their wonderful school makes me feel blessed. How lucky am I to have been involved.



The igqirha (medicine woman) performing a ritual on me to prevent evil spirits from entering my body 



Bjorn getting down and dirty

A day of maths at the centre (note the Isolomzi students neatness)

The boat trip

Theo doing fire poi

The Rondebosh Boys team

Interaction at the centre

Johan giving swimming lessons in the lagoon

Isolomzi girls fashion shoot

students and a ball - what more can I say

The whole team - with Jock a happy man in the front

Please Support Our Cause