My Mama in Mtwalume is a Sangoma

Our second week of rural homestays is now over and I am starting to feel like I am living out of my backpack. After Impedle we returned to our families in Cato Manor for just one day to take our Zulu final. The day after the final we left to go to camping in the Drakensburg mountains and from the Drakensburg we went straight to our second rural stay in Mtwalume, on the South Coast. It is hard to believe that after three weeks of having Zulu every day, we wont learn any more Zulu officially. The written exam went reasonably well, but I’m not sure about the oral exam. I didn’t remember the most practical vocabulary. For example, I said “on the weekends in America I like to wash dishes and do the laundry.” My teachers looked a little confused, so I told them “this weekend I will talk to friends at a mountain” which may not have added much clarity. Though, on the weekend I actually did talk to friends on a mountain, in the Drakensburg.

The Drakensburg was beautiful. We swam in the pristine river that flows by the campsite through the valley, with green mountains lining both sides. We climbed one of the mountains and it seemed like we could see forever. Africa is so expansive! Across the valley we could see the two peaks that mark Lesotho. It felt a little bit like Lord of the Rings. At the top of the mountain we saw cave paintings from the Khoisan people, who were the original inhabitants of the area. It was wonderful to get some exercise, eat salad (our academic director calls it rabbit food), and spend time with the whole SIT group. We divide into two groups for the rural homestays, and I was starting to miss the other half. After the weekend we divided back into two groups and my half traveled to Mtwalume, a rural area in the Ugu district along the Indian Ocean.

Mtwalume was so hot! I don’t know if I have ever been so hot in my life. We went to different cultural sites around the community, and all in all, the program was a little weird. It was the first time a group of students has come to Mtwalume, and it felt like we were being shown places with the hope that that we would either become buyers to sell the local crafts in the US or provide sponsorship for the centers, which was uncomfortable. For example, we went to the municipality center and waited for hours to hear a woman involved in South Coast tourism to say a five-minute blurp advertising the tourism opportunities on the South Coast.

We did visit some interesting places in Mtwalume as well. At the local primary school I was very impressed with the efforts at sustainability and gardening, especially at such an under-resourced school. Also, throughout KZN and South Africa, there is an initiative called “Lovelife,” which is a program for youth education about HIV/AIDS prevention. There are Lovelife centers, which are youth centers that kids go to play sports after school, take computer classes (which is amazing because they are free at Lovelife and computer illiteracy is a huge employment disadvantage for many South Africans), take dance classes, look for jobs, and talk about their goals, healthy relationships, and whatever else with the Lovelife staff. We visited the Mtwalume center and it seems like a really great program. While I was there I learned how to play netball, which is basically an improved version of basketball. It was so much fun!

Beyond the strange programs, my homestay family in Mtwalyme was wonderful. My Mama was a Sangoma, a traditional healer. She showed us her workspace, her medicines, some of the plants she uses for different ailments, what she wears when she is healing someone, and told us about her calling. A person must have a calling to become a Sangoma, and Mama’s came to her in the form of a dream. Our Mama put strings around our waists that are supposed to keep us healthy. I think they might also be for fertility, too, because after she put them on us she pointed at her ring finger adamantly and then between our legs and was like “Boyfriend, Cha! Cha! Cha! (No! no! no!).” Yebo, Mama.

Our Sisi, Mama’s daughter, gave birth today to a baby boy! We are going to visit next weekend to meet the baby. Our Sisi’s daughter, Mandisa (2), also lived with us, has one of the absolute cutest giggles I have heard in my life. Everyone in our family was wonderful and it was nice to know I could bond with people with my limited Zulu. My family spoke very little English, collectively maybe as much English as I speak Zulu, so I got to practice my Zulu kakhulu! For almost everything my family and I were eventually able to figure out what one another was saying, though there were a few things about Mama’s work that I couldn’t quite get.

Speaking of which, there was another thing I didn’t and still don’t understand. As I was getting ready for bed, my Mama looked very surprised and pointed at my legs and said “ay ay ay! Mkhulu!! (big!),” and then cracked up laughing. I just laughed and didn’t think much of it, but then the next day she was sitting on a mat outside with my sisi and her friend and she called me over, pulled up my skirt and pointed at my legs saying “Bonani! Mkhulu! (see! Big!) and some other words I couldn’t understand. I looked confused and asked “mkhulu?” and then asked “mcane? (small)” to which she said emphatically, “Cha! Mkhulu!” and made an arm gesture to be sure I understood. Oh Mama.

I have a guess as to why Mama gave us the good-health strings around our stomachs early on, as I am still full from our last dinner. On the last night my Mama and our neighbor (who also had two homestay students) spent the afternoon cooking a huge Zulu feast for us. Our Mama knew we were going to eat dinner as one big family with our neighbors, but she took my homestay buddy and I aside before the feast and served us a huge dinner (before we knew we were having a feast too). The dinner was amazing, the first dinner was some of the best curry I have has since I have been here, it even tasted like a hint of basil. Anyway, when our neighbors came to get us for The Feast, Mama pretended to be surprised and not know what was going on, even though she cooked it. And when I say The Feast, it was literally a feast. We had mountainous platters of maize, amadumbe (sp?) roots, steam bread and a chicken. I’m quite proud of how much I ate. And then we had desert, custard with fresh fruit. Afterward we listened to gospel music outside and our families laughed at how Americans dance. I wish our rural stays could be more than 4 days each.

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