Zululand

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It's been a while since I arrived back in the UK now so I really don't have any excuse for not having done this earlier... but I figured I should at least finish the last few blogs from my Africa trip before I head off again ;0)

Eshowe is a small town and at first, when I realised I was the only person staying at the backpackers there, I was more than a little tempted to hop back on the Baz Bus and head on up to St Lucia with everyone else. In the end I was glad I stayed (and not just because I got upgraded to the hotel ;0)) - travelling through in the low season I think I was a bit of a novelty in town and so got to spend a great few nights propping up the bar with the locals finding out all the local gossip and about the way of life here... and of course there was the cultural side of my visit to!

The day I arrived I walked down to the Fort Nongqai Museum... well, I tried to - I managed about 1km before a car pulled over and the elderly lady driving insisted on giving me a lift for the remaining 1km. The highlight of the fort for me was actually the Vikani Zulu Basket Collection.... OK so that might seem bizarre even for someone who likes museums as much as me but I had a fascinating hour long tour from the assistant curator - she had so much cultural and historical knowledge that I learnt more from her in that hour than I did on the rest of my trip, plus I got my own personal guided tour - the benefit of coming in the low season I guess. I learnt about the significance of the colours and geometric shapes in the bead work that Zulu’s wear (whether a triangle points up or down indicates an unmarried girl or boy... a diamond is a married women, black means marriage and death) and the significance of the colour and shape of a basket, and how you needed to make sure you used the right one to serve your husband his beer in. Indirectly I also understood more about the prevalence of and attitude towards aids here, with a number of the artists whose work features in the exhibition recently having died from the disease.

The plan for the next morning was to head out to a nearby Zulu village where a coming of age ceremony was happening... except we never quite managed to find it. Once you turn off the main roads here it's a whole different world - dusty dirt tracks that sometimes are barely that and very few cars. My guides Zulu was rather limited, albeit a lot better than mine, and it seemed that none of the people we stopped spoke any English. Eventually we saw a couple of ladies walking along ahead who, whilst they didn't speak any English, seemed to be dressed the part. So we squeezed them into the back of the car and headed off again, being directed by taps on the shoulder and hand gestures down increasingly narrow lanes, the last of which was completely overgrown with grass and barely identifiable. A few hundred slow bumpy meters later we came to a stop, the ladies got out, waved down to a house in the valley and started walking off towards it. Unsure whether or not we were meant to follow we waited.... and waited and waited and... 5-10 minutes later a few guys walked past and, fortunately for us spoke English. Yes, yes, there was a coming of age ceremony in a nearby village... bad news, although it was close by there was no direct road from where we were, so we needed to go back down all the tracks to the main road, head back to town a bit, then follow another 4 or 5 tracks and we'd be there. Well needless to say by the time we'd reached the 'you get to a fork in the road and then take the track close to the trees, towards a house in a valley and then... etc etc' we conceded defeat and decided that today was not going to be the day I made it to a coming of age ceremony. So we went for plan B - head off to the local pub, which in these parts was a local who had some home brew for sale. We sat with a couple of locals on a log sharing a drink between us and somehow managed to convey through sign language that no, we weren't married, no there were no kids etc etc... the usual questions ;0) Next thing another lady turns up and not only does she speak English it turns out her brother works in the hotel I was staying at. My guide for his part didn't know the guy had a sister! Anyway before leaving she invited us over to her place, which was just across the road, to try her home brew which she informed us was much better than what we were currently drinking. Well it would have been rude to say no! As we sat on a log at her place looking over the surrounding green fields peppered with round houses she poured us some beer (which was much better than the first offering) and then unasked gave us some food (v nice veggie curry). We sat and chatted for a good hour with her and her friend about local life, her family, how much money she survived on each week and how various people were 'ill' (most likely with HIV) so couldn't work, whilst her nephew and son played nearby. At one point my guide asked if I had a camera with me because he thought they'd like me to take their photo's - the ladies friend had shyly gestured something a couple of times and whilst it could have been a camera I really wasn't sure. And now it was my turn be shy because I'm normally quite hesitant about taking peoples photo's. Just as we were about to leave though I finally got my camera out.... and half an hour later we actually left! The appearance of my camera was greeted with smiles, clapping and much fussing to make sure hair, outfits and (rather serious)poses were just right... followed by lots of giggles and pointing when I showed them the photo's. And when I remembered the video function on my camera... well, we went through the whole thing again! Finally we left, with a warning from her not to stop for anyone one the way back because there were some 'bad' people around. All in all it was one of those completely random days where everything went wrong but was fantastic nevertheless. And we got back just in time to watch SA play NZ on TV in the bar with the locals... surprisingly me openly supporting the all blacks didn't get me bounced out of the pub!

So, the next day was our second attempt at a coming of age ceremony and this time we actually made it! An hour and lots of winding tracks through some stunning scenery later we arrived at the house of the girl who's ceremony it was. Both her parents were dead so her older brothers were taking the role that they would traditionally play - dressed with a cow hide around her shoulders the brothers pinned money it before we all headed out to a grassy hill outside. And that's where the celebrations really started. All of the girls young female friends and relatives lined up towards the base of the hill, everyone else, including us, was further up the hill facing them. Lots of chanting, singing, clapping as the girls from the line danced their way up the hill to bring spectators, including us, down to pin money on the girl. You knew it was your turn to move when a staff was firmly planted on the ground infront of you - there was nowhere to hide ;0) When Steve, the guy I was with, started joining in the dancing he got one of the biggest cheers of the day!! Then a line of people formed with gifts to give the girl - blankets, sheets and a whole load of other stuff to start her new married life with. Finally from over the hill in front of us men's group arrived - some in normal clothes, others with spears and dressed up, including the girls husband-to-be and his friends. The sound of their singing got louder and louder as they approached. Once they had all looped round to pin money on the girl a bit off a dance and chant off seemed to happen.... and then suddenly it was all over!

Next up - back on the bus to St Lucia, hippo's and crocodiles

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