Stumo returned home to us on July 9th at 2pm and it was incredibly exciting! Everyone came running to our house when they saw him walking from the bush to our house, surrounded by fellow men, everyone singing and dancing and celebrating his return. For one month Stumo lived disconnected from the world, learning lessons from his male peers and enjoying the quiet sounds of nature. It must have been a bit of a shock to the system to go from such quiet surroundings into the 4 day (24 hours a day also!!) party that greeted him upon his return.
For four days we had hundreds of people at hour house, drinking beer, brandy and umqombothi (African beer). A cow was purchased for the event and slaughtered to provide an abundance of fresh meat. I should also mention here that I am a devouted vegetarian for the reasons of animal cruelty but I have to tell you that this event was very respectful of the animal. The cow was killed very quickly with a sharp slice to the throat with a sharp knife. What I love about this community is that everything and I mean everything is used with zero waste. Every part of the animal is eaten, the skin and tail are saved to make items in the future and the bones are eaten by the dogs. I really respect that, it is a far difference from the industrial agriculture that our culture is used to.
The Makoti's were kept very busy, Makoti is the term for "Young bride" which means any young woman who was close to the family was kept busy pouring drinks, cooking food, cleaning and tending to the hundreds of people. It was a little crazy really to be a Canadian makoti, I spent my entire time following the lead of my sister Nozukane, a lovely 20 year old woman married to my brother Busisani who has the maturity and respectfullness of someone decades older. Friday and Saturday I did very well, I slept a little bit during the night despite the 24 hour party happening on the other side of my door. Sunday however I struggled, underfed, under-slept and under-educated in the Xhosa language I started to feel the stress of it all.
A strange thing happens also when people drink around me here in Thembalethu. The more people drink the more I become a toy of sorts and less of a person if that makes sense. People start forgetting that I am Nosandise, the woman who has lived here and worked in the community and they start treating me like the Afrikanners of nearby George. Most everyone starts speaking Afrikaans to me (the language spoken by the white people, sounds like Dutch/German) and even though I have been here since 2008 and have told everyone over and over that I am from Canada and do not speak Afrikaans, they still speak Afrikaans to me which in short I find enraging ha ha. To be fair, I am the first person that they have ever met who is white and does not speak Afrikaans so I think they find it confusing. It is hard to explain to people who have minimal education that white people live all over the world and Afrikaans is only spoken by 7.9% of the population in a country called South Africa (and Namibia also now that I think of it). It is kind of like me speaking swahili to every black person I meet because people in East Africa speak swahili so therefore every black person must speak swahili ha ha ha, I try to keep a sense of humor about it.....
But all in all I must say that it was very exciting to have Stumo home, I really missed him a lot. On Saturday he sat in a shack outside and everyone at the party had the chance to say a few words to him, he sat with his head covered, wearing just his blanket. It was then that I started crying, I really missed him, more than I even realized.
All of the ladies came dressed in their beautiful culture dresses, I swear I spent hours saying "WOW your dress is amazing!!"
The lovely Zolani (standing) and Busisani
Having some laughs, the lady in the green was so funny ha ha
The point I realized that the brandy and beer were working on the men ha ha, the guys insisted that I take this picture, and it turned out wonderfully! This is the house that Stumo was sitting inside of as we all went in to give him our words of advice on being a man.
The lovely Stumo, painted red to show that he is a new man and wearing his lovely blanket. To the right is my friend Nanza who day in and day out looked after Stumo along with dozens of other men who would stop by to help with chores in the bush, ie: collecting native medicinal plants etc. Thank you Nanza for taking such good care of Stumo!
Some of the men who turned up for the party, the men sit together in one place (or in this case four differnt places because there were so many people!) and the ladies sit together in another place.
Another beautiful dress, this lady is wonderful, she is the sister of my friend KB and she is a patient and lovely soul. Her daughter was born with a physical and mental disability but due to the patience of this woman her daughter lives a wonderful life. This lady asked if there was any way for me to help her start a support group for women with disabled children...something to think about...
The men returning from the bush with Stumo at centre.
There is Stumo in the middle, wrapped in a new blanket. He is not allowed to show his face quite yet so the men guide him. Just a note, see that man who runs to the front? Yeah, he is nearly 80 years old!! A reminder to eat your vege's boys and girls!!! This man spends his days working in his garden and eats of ton of fresh produce, I first met him in 2008 at the community garden in Thembalethu, months before coming to Zone 4, who knew that one day he would be my neighbour!
Nozukane leading the ladies in a whole lot of fabulous singing to welcome Stumo home from the bush. Wow she can sing!!!
So fantastic!! Thanks for taking us there to get a glimpse of this amazing community rite of passage. Love the ceremonial dress.
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