COMPARING APPLES WITH APPLES AND FORESKINS WITH LION SKINS

So I find this whole coming of age thing quite interesting.  Turns out the passage of rites is more involved than a Xhosa boy loosing his foreskin somewhere in the bush or a 13 year old Jewish boy suddenly capable of understanding the Torah after his bar mitzvah.

The difference between Xhosa youth in Transkei and white boys in Limpopo is quite evident.  Here in rural Transkei, becoming a man is the most important event in a boy’s life.  There is a lot of psyching up before the initiation and after a hearty 3 week chat from the old men in the village who visit the boys who are tucked away in a secret hut, their foreskin is chopped off.  Depending on the boy’s father’s financial position, he slaughters a goat or a chicken but preparing a meal of samp and beans often clinches the deal.  From that day on, he is expected to act responsibly as well as attend family funerals which takes up most of their Saturdays. Young men display their newfound manhood by wearing a checked jacket and/or a floppy flannel beret.  This outfit from the 50’s probably confuses onlookers into thinking the wearer’s limped shuffle, prompted by a recent slice and dice, is a carefree swagger.

Boys in Limpopo on the other hand, are treated to a weekend away with their dad, dad’s buddies, and as much brandy and coke that can fit next to the rifles and ammo packs in the back of the bakkie as they head off to the nearest game farm to find an animal to kill and turn into biltong.  Once the boy has made his kill, he smears the dead animal’s blood all over his face and eats a piece of its intestines.  He straddles his kill for a photo shot and sometimes the initiate takes the head home to mount against the lounge wall to remind everyone of his manhood.  His swagger is brought on by brandy and coke as he celebrates his newfound manhood.       

Even Japanese people, both male and female have a coming of age day.  It’s celebrated on the 2^nd Monday of January and everyone who turns 20 that year is allowed to vote, drink and smoke.  Perhaps men walk around asking everyone for a light to show their newfound manliness even though they are the size of an average 9 year old Benoni boy.  20 Year old girls probably peer at you from smouldering almond eyes as they pluck out a cute, miniature cigarette, wrapped in origami paper decorated in Hello Kitty designs which they keep in a cute little box stuffed up their kimono sleeve.         

American Indian boys go off to pray in a sauna and afterwards, a special spirit, who appears in their dreams, protects them for the rest of their life and they are rewarded with a new adult name like eagle eye, big bear or hopping rabbit.

Young men of the Buddhist faith go to a monastery for between 3 days to 3 years, depending on how dedicated they are in trying to levitate. After abstaining from sex and food but thriving on praying, you are primed for adult married life and cooled down enough to attract a woman.

In Australia, Aboriginal tribes get together for a Bora ceremony where singing, dancing and storytelling is performed.  After sacrificing something to the spirits, boys loose their foreskins, a finger or a tooth to signify their manhood.

In the Amazon, the Satere Mawe tribe push pain levels to the extreme as boys have to wear a glove of ants whose bite is excruciatingly painful but they have to repeat the exercise 20 times before becoming a man with a swollen hand.

On the Pentacost island, a little place in the south pacific, boys do bungee jumping on land with a length of jungle vines and hope to survive the fall.  If they do, their yam crop will be good but the trick is all about the length of the vine and I imagine how much impact your head can take.

In New Guinea, timid Matausa tribesmen injure themselves in order to let their mother’s woosie blood bleed out of their bodies.  They stick sharp reeds up their noses, down their throats and repeatedly cut their tongues with arrows.  Once they’ve spat out all the bad blood, they are certified brave men and probably from then on speak with a forked tongue.

Maybe you think these rites of passage are unusual and outdated.  I think that although some are a bit extreme, the concept of a passage of rites is important for many primitive communities.  To be acknowledged as a man within these communities and honouring their tradition keeps hierarchy levels in order, respect for the elders is kept alive and separates the boys from the men. 

On the other hand, every year modern, first world Danish teenagers trap hundreds of dolphins in a bay and butcher them to death.  I find this demonstration of manhood much more shocking and barbaric.

Each tribe has a system that works for them, some just differ from others but some just are not acceptable no matter how you look at it.  

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep




The other day we jumped on the bike and headed over the hill in search of Thelma’s crèche. Jock, the guy who sponsored the books and computers at the library asked us to visit the crèche and see what their needs were as he wanted to sponsor them. Jock has been trying to make a difference to the lives of the people here in Qolora since long before we even got here and Education is his prime concern. He has a successful legal practice in Cape Town and he’s connected to big shots in the Department of Education. His heart and brains are in the right place. I suppose by now you must be wondering how Theo and I are coping financially and how we manage to stay fat. Well, we left Cape Town with 2 months supply of food and thought we’d end up at Coffee Bay teaching. We stumbled onto the library here at Qolora and that’s where we’ve settled. It didn’t take long for Jock and us to connect and now he contributes towards our living expenses. Things just fell into place, proving once again that life is as simple as you want it to be.



Anyway, there we were, looking for a crèche, working our butts off, riding around the beautiful countryside, soaking up the scenery of hills and dales blanketed in feathery grassland. Putting along the gravel roads on our toot toot as the kids call it, with the sun on your back and the wind in your hair, dodging the odd cow, goat or pothole can really strain those smile muscles. And then there’s all that waving.

It’s much greener on the other side of the hill and the countryside has more of a tropical feel to it. Even the cattle kraals which are made by stacking branches in a large circle, had lush green ivy growing all over them. Kraals are a very very important part of a family’s homestead. A man who has any worth has a kraal next to his hut or house. Even if his cattle have died off, which is the case of some people, the kraal is still an important structure. The man of the house communicates with his ancestors at the gates of his kraal. This is where he runs all important matters of the living by his ancestors for their approval. For instance, if he wants to build a new house, make important changes within his family or suchlike, he will communicate this to his ancestors at the kraal. They will respond to him in his dreams thereafter and even if it takes a long time, he will not go ahead with the plans even if its months before he has their approval.



Communicating with ones ancestors is the core of Xhosa tradition and the lives of the people here are woven around their ancestors. Ancestors, who are in fact deceased parents, grandparents and great grandparents oversee their family’s wellbeing and are a gateway to God so whether you are a Christian or not, ancestors play a part in the Xhosa people’s lives. If a person is blessed with good fortune, then they need to thank their ancestors by slaughtering a cow or goat depending on the level of their success. The man of the house will select a cow and prick it in its neck to make it bellow. A good choice is if the cow bellows before the spear touches its skin, an indication that the ancestors are very happy. A cow cannot be made to bellow by hurting it forcefully as this would then not be a true reflection of their ancestors approval. If the chosen cow does not bellow then it’s a serious problem and the ancestor will communicate to them in a vivid dream otherwise a Sangoma needs to be summoned to determine why the ancestors are not happy. If something goes wrong, such as a person gets sick, looses their job or something of this nature then the ancestors are angry with them and a Sangoma needs to be consulted to determine why. A cow, goat or chicken can be offered to the ancestors to set things straight but usually they do not bring bad fortune. Basically, if you are the motherly type, you get to carry on controlling your family even from the grave although there are more male ancestors than females. You don’t automatically become an ancestor just by dying, it’s a special privilege and an ancestor is highly respected. They present themselves to their family in very vivid dreams which cannot be questioned or refuted. A year after a person has died, a ceremony is held which involves a cow being slaughtered and the passing of the ancestor is celebrated. An expensive tombstone is placed at the gravesite followed by great festivities to honour the new ancestor. This is a costly business and the people here don’t have a lot of spare cash lying around but they make it happen.



My father who passed away 5 years ago often wagged his finger at me from that other dimension but these days he is resting peacefully or perhaps he’s busy watching over other people who break the hairs in their ears by listening to loud music in discos. Anyway, he was a diabetic so I didn’t need to keep a herd of cattle to appease him, diet coke would have done the trick. Theo wouldn’t make a good ancestor as he would forever be demanding a spitbraai and would surely get very frustrated with only the aroma of meat wafting up past his nose while the living had a feast.

So whether or not you go gently into that dark good night, whether you put flowers on someone’s grave to remember them, scatter someone’s ashes over their favourite place or whether you believe they are still watching over you like a guardian angel, we are all going to eventually take our last living breath and return our energy back to earth. Some just get to wag their finger for longer than others.

Anyone who takes the time to soak up the energy around these hills will be able to feel the presence of the ancestors watching over their people. Me, I’ve set my father free.