The buzzing of the bees, the paper trees and the big rock candy mountain

Yesterday, after school, we were heading back to our recently revamped rustic rondavel when our taxi hit a swarm of bees that were on the move. We weren't going very fast, what with the bumps and stones and potholes and all, so a whole bunch of bees buzzed in at Theo’s window, past me in the middle and out at the drivers side. The taxi came to a screeching halt and Theo and the driver jumped out waving their hands around their heads. This encouraged a couple of bees to dive down Theo’s shirt, making him jump around even more vigorously until he eventually got stung. The incident led to a new fascinating discovery which I shall share.

It seems that bees have a special place in Xhosa culture. I bet you didn't know that if bees decide to enter your house and make a nest, you are not allowed to remove them, harm them or smoke them out. In fact, the visiting bees are actually your ancestors making a house call and the only way to make them leave, is to kill a cow.

I’m getting to know the Ngidi family through school since Mrs Ngidi is a teacher while her husband is our contracted taxi driver. He is one of the few people around here who farm their land and they are one of the more respectable wealthier families in the area. Their 2 sons have been to college and their daughter is in Grade 3 and has the most confident voice in the whole school. Mrs Ngidi is a Christian, as is her daughter, Viwe, but her husband is more old school Xhosa and follows traditional ways, as do their sons. Mr Ngidi talks to his ancestors at his kraal whenever a decision needs to be made but he is a bit sceptical about some of the powers of the amaqiga (sangoma). For instance, he doubts that a person can be made invisible so as to avoid being hit by bullets as was reported on the radio recently. Anyway, some time ago, some bees entered the Ngidi home and decided to make a nest in their couch right in the middle of the lounge. The couch was carried outside and a structure was erected above it to protect it from the rain. Two years later, Mr Ngidi, decided he wanted his couch back so the local elders were called in and of course a cow was slaughtered. The elders spoke to the bees, who listened, and after the conversation, the bees (their father’s father’s father) buzzed off and all was well. The ancestors were happy to see that a cow was slaughtered in their honour and left the family in peace.

Bees found in nature are regular bees and are not your reincarnated uncle. Some small boys bravely collect honey from natural bee hives by covering a arm and hand in a plastic bag and with a balaclava pulled over their head, they help themselves to chunks of honey comb. I like the fact that inadvertently, the bees are protected around here, but I just wish more farmers would plant vegetables and give the bees something more than wild cherry guava trees to pollinate.

my beaded shell window thingie

my decorative door thingie

my beaded curtain thingie

 

As to our recently revamped rustic rondavel, I've been in a bit of a creative mood lately and besides moving furniture around, I've created some dangly thingies to hang in front of the tiny window as well as another threaded bamboo thingie to hang in the doorway. It’s pretty to look at and I'm proud of my handy work although it hasn't kept my ancestors out of our mud hut. They have tracked me down here in Transkei and if slaughtering a whole herd of cattle will get rid of them, I’m game. You see, my ancestors have taken the form of mozzies and I suspect they are here to stay, whispering sweet nothing in my ear until I answer them or go dilly.

Mozzies from Mars

It seems as though we’ve got rid of the rat but now we’re concentrating on the dam mozzies. We’d almost used up a whole can of Tabbard spray when Theo remembered that we had a brand new anti mozzie net packed in the bus somewhere. Great stuff! He hauled it out, hung it up above the bed and wala, things looked very omantic as soft white netting draped around the bed and I was suddenly in the mood for love. Excitedly we crawled in under the thing but wham, I looked around and felt as if I was in a Sci Fi movie with gross sores developing all over my body and an alien about to explode out of my stomach. I tried hard to banish these thoughts but they kept coming back. If I looked up at the circular centre above my head, I felt like a giant bee catcher. Theo on the other hand lay there going ne nene ne ne and pulling faces at the mozzies buzzing around on the outside.

Oh dear. I needed to recapture the moment. If I downed my whiskey it might help but the problem was that the bedside table was outside our safety net, and with the light on we’d attracted enough flying insects to start an arachnid collection. Should I risk opening up the side to get my drink or should I just suck it through the dam net? I managed to get my drink safely inside, gulped it down and turned to the cheshire cat lying next to me. Let’s get it on baby. It’s difficult being romantic with a moth the size of a small bat flapping madly entangling itself into the folds of the net next to your ear but somehow we managed.

I have to share a bit of useful information here. Did you know that the reason why moths circle around a light continuously is because they use the moon to navigate? As they’re flying from lets say a Marula tree to lets say a Black Monkey Thorn tree they check out the position of the moon and use it to get their bearings in the sky and orientate where they want to go without getting lost. Ingenious! Unfortunately they get confused with other lights and will circle and circle it incessantly trying to get their bearings. Like ok, here’s the moon real close, this must be north, wait a minute, this must be north, hang on maybe this is north. Wait a minute; I’ve just seen another big moon under this net bouncing at a vigorous rate.

Anyway bottom line, the dark side of the moon is more diverse than a chicken drumstick.