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- Received Diwali cookies from Indian neighbors
- Visited Rorke’s Drift, a Lutheran sponsored arts and crafts center, particularly famous for art produced during the apartheid. Kristen, a fellow volunteer, and I accidentally toured the nearby battlefield. We transferred among six taxis to arrive at Umpumulo.
- Traveled to the coastal cities of Stanger and Ballito
- Attended a teachers’ union meeting
- Attended Lutheran Diocesan Dean’s Meeting and a Lutheran Choir Festival at Umpumulo, where the regional bishop lives
- Worshiped at the Diocesan Rally with about 4,000 Lutherans
Monday, November 30, 2009
A Word in isiZulu: -zulu
Translation*: -zulu (i- ama-) (n) heaven; sky; weather; climate; rain;
lightning.
-Zulu (u-) (n) Zulu nation.
-zulu (isi-) (n) Zulu language; Zulu habit or custom; zulu manner
or life.
-Zulu (um- ama-) (n) member of the Zulu race.
Grammar: -zulu is the stem of the verb, which gives the meaning,
and the prefix slightly alters the meaning.
Comments: Basically, I live in heaven with people of heaven
surrounded by a heavenly way of life.
* “-zulu” and “-Zulu.” Scholar’s Zulu Dictionary. 3rd ed. Compiled by G. R. Dent and C. L. S.
Nyembezi. Pietermaritzburg: Shuter & Shooter Publishers (Pty) Ltd., 1969.
lightning.
-Zulu (u-) (n) Zulu nation.
-zulu (isi-) (n) Zulu language; Zulu habit or custom; zulu manner
or life.
-Zulu (um- ama-) (n) member of the Zulu race.
Grammar: -zulu is the stem of the verb, which gives the meaning,
and the prefix slightly alters the meaning.
Comments: Basically, I live in heaven with people of heaven
surrounded by a heavenly way of life.
* “-zulu” and “-Zulu.” Scholar’s Zulu Dictionary. 3rd ed. Compiled by G. R. Dent and C. L. S.
Nyembezi. Pietermaritzburg: Shuter & Shooter Publishers (Pty) Ltd., 1969.
Snapshots
*The goal of the snapshots section is to give you verbal pictures of my experiences in and perceptions of South Africa, which are limited and not representative of South Africa as a whole, just as my experiences in and perceptions of the US do not represent all of the US.
South Africa:
- Even though two Lutheran churches exist, based primarily on race differences, only one Lutheran Seminary exists where citizens of South Africa and other southern African countries attend
- The Lutheran church has different leagues for men, women, Sunday School, youth, young adults, and music, and members often wear their league uniform to church
- The structure of my Lutheran church has five layers
- An offering is taken specifically for communion costs
- On South Africa’s reality TV show, “Big Brother”, participants, from all over Africa, must speak in English
KwaZulu-Natal:
- Zulus use the same numbers as in English, which helps me find the scripture readings
- People often call the US, America
- People often react positively to hearing I’m from the US
My Community:
- Life here is similar to home: people wear Western clothes, have indoor plumbing and electricity, and, in my home, eat cereal, granola, and/or oatmeal for breakfast
- My community, Cool Air, was zoned for Indians prior to the end of the apartheid, so approximately one half of the population is Indian, most of the rest are Zulus, with a few other native tribes of South Africa, and a few coloreds (mixed race); I am the only Caucasian living in Cool Air
- Due to Cool Air’s mixed community, people often use English to communicate, most Indians speak English in their homes, and most people’s English is very good
- My sisters attend a school that primarily teaches in English
- My host family in Cool Air drives nicer cars than my family
- My host family irons their clothes everyday
- People more often throw wrappers on the ground
- People keep their houses very clean
- Children are nice to and friendly with me
- My host family knows no one in Cool Air who has the Internet capacity to send a file as large as this newsletter
Personal:
- I finished Desmond Tutu’s No Future Without Forgiveness
- I laughed and cried while watching “Blood Diamond”
- Most people who guess my age think I’m 16 or 17
- Almost daily, I run with my three younger host sisters and three young neighbors
- I created a schedule for myself at school so that teachers may sign up to have me teach in their class
- I eat curry fairly regularly
- A tapestry of Nelson Mandela hangs in my living room
South Africa:
- Even though two Lutheran churches exist, based primarily on race differences, only one Lutheran Seminary exists where citizens of South Africa and other southern African countries attend
- The Lutheran church has different leagues for men, women, Sunday School, youth, young adults, and music, and members often wear their league uniform to church
- The structure of my Lutheran church has five layers
- An offering is taken specifically for communion costs
- On South Africa’s reality TV show, “Big Brother”, participants, from all over Africa, must speak in English
KwaZulu-Natal:
- Zulus use the same numbers as in English, which helps me find the scripture readings
- People often call the US, America
- People often react positively to hearing I’m from the US
My Community:
- Life here is similar to home: people wear Western clothes, have indoor plumbing and electricity, and, in my home, eat cereal, granola, and/or oatmeal for breakfast
- My community, Cool Air, was zoned for Indians prior to the end of the apartheid, so approximately one half of the population is Indian, most of the rest are Zulus, with a few other native tribes of South Africa, and a few coloreds (mixed race); I am the only Caucasian living in Cool Air
- Due to Cool Air’s mixed community, people often use English to communicate, most Indians speak English in their homes, and most people’s English is very good
- My sisters attend a school that primarily teaches in English
- My host family in Cool Air drives nicer cars than my family
- My host family irons their clothes everyday
- People more often throw wrappers on the ground
- People keep their houses very clean
- Children are nice to and friendly with me
- My host family knows no one in Cool Air who has the Internet capacity to send a file as large as this newsletter
Personal:
- I finished Desmond Tutu’s No Future Without Forgiveness
- I laughed and cried while watching “Blood Diamond”
- Most people who guess my age think I’m 16 or 17
- Almost daily, I run with my three younger host sisters and three young neighbors
- I created a schedule for myself at school so that teachers may sign up to have me teach in their class
- I eat curry fairly regularly
- A tapestry of Nelson Mandela hangs in my living room
An Experience of isiZulu (Heaven)
A candle goes out. A cell phone turns on. The complexities of a modern, traditional, Zulu ceremony astound me. Zu and her ceremony party of three girls prepare for their initiation service by putting on clothing that will be symbolically burned. Nombulelo takes my hand and leads me into the new, cylindrical hut. (I was told by U.S.ers to call huts, dwellings, but my host sisters bemusedly asked why not call them what they are.) Over one hundred singing people line the walls of the hut. As the only non-Zulu in the hut, I feel honored, particularly because Nombulelo (Nombz) and I sit next to the ceremony party.
The ceremony begins as a great-uncle talks with the ancestors while male family and the goat to be slaughtered look on. Next, female elders cover Zu’s party of three girls and herself with special mud by candlelight as a sign of purity. After they wrap themselves in blankets, Nombz grabs my hand and leads me out of the hut. During the day, I had expressed interest in seeing a goat slaughtered, for I had never witnessed the slaughtering of an animal before. As we walk to another hut, Nombz explains that a few men are about to kill the goat. After entering the candle lit room, I put my arm around Nombz as five men hold the goat down and, finally, slit the goat’s throat. I hear a gurgling sound as the goat’s blood spills into a basin. Within a minute, I find myself holding the candle by which they would carve the goat. I sit on a table above the goat and lean over, trying to hold the candle in the best spot for all to see. After a half hour and a few drops of blood on my skin later, the men are finished. Although, as an American, I am not used to watching animals slaughtered, I feel fascinated by taking part in how my food is prepared.
Nombz and I reenter the hut to men taking turns performing a traditional dance step, where a person lifts one leg as high as they can and then slams the foot down on the ground. After cheering for the spontaneous performers, two of Zu’s cousin’s start teaching the dances in a circle that will be performed one week later at the main ceremony. I watch a few of the dances, and after some encouragement, I, too, try to dance the Zulu dances. The rhythmic dancing is therapeutic.
At about eleven, the cooked goat and steamed bread were brought into the hut and divided into four large portions for the men, boys, women and girls. After talking to a few girls, one of them turns to me, saying: “These girls be loving you, Ms. Kate.” The celebration had only begun, but I left mesmerized by the rich Zulu culture, the strong Zulu community, and a beautiful celebration.
The ceremony begins as a great-uncle talks with the ancestors while male family and the goat to be slaughtered look on. Next, female elders cover Zu’s party of three girls and herself with special mud by candlelight as a sign of purity. After they wrap themselves in blankets, Nombz grabs my hand and leads me out of the hut. During the day, I had expressed interest in seeing a goat slaughtered, for I had never witnessed the slaughtering of an animal before. As we walk to another hut, Nombz explains that a few men are about to kill the goat. After entering the candle lit room, I put my arm around Nombz as five men hold the goat down and, finally, slit the goat’s throat. I hear a gurgling sound as the goat’s blood spills into a basin. Within a minute, I find myself holding the candle by which they would carve the goat. I sit on a table above the goat and lean over, trying to hold the candle in the best spot for all to see. After a half hour and a few drops of blood on my skin later, the men are finished. Although, as an American, I am not used to watching animals slaughtered, I feel fascinated by taking part in how my food is prepared.
Nombz and I reenter the hut to men taking turns performing a traditional dance step, where a person lifts one leg as high as they can and then slams the foot down on the ground. After cheering for the spontaneous performers, two of Zu’s cousin’s start teaching the dances in a circle that will be performed one week later at the main ceremony. I watch a few of the dances, and after some encouragement, I, too, try to dance the Zulu dances. The rhythmic dancing is therapeutic.
At about eleven, the cooked goat and steamed bread were brought into the hut and divided into four large portions for the men, boys, women and girls. After talking to a few girls, one of them turns to me, saying: “These girls be loving you, Ms. Kate.” The celebration had only begun, but I left mesmerized by the rich Zulu culture, the strong Zulu community, and a beautiful celebration.
A Spiritual Word: Service
“So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example; that you also should do as I have done to you.” John 13:14-15
Jesus serves his disciples by washing their feet in John 13. This is my favorite chapter in the Bible because Jesus demonstrates the boundless nature of God’s love and asks us to do the same. We should serve one another. At Zuziwe’s celebration, the female relatives astound me with the extent of their service.
I roll over in my sleeping bag; I open my eyes enough to see a woman taking a bath in a basin. A while later, I rustle in my sleep again while another woman bathes in my room. I am a very heavy sleeper, barely conscious when I first wake up, and my eyesight is poor without glasses or contacts, so I am in no way negatively impacted by these experiences. Finally, after seeing so many people moving, I decide I should get ready for the day. After cleaning myself up, I glance at my cell phone clock; the time is barely after 6. How and why is everyone already up?
I look out the door of my host family’s home on Gogo’s (grandma on my host dad’s side) property to see everyone hard at work on the day of Zuziwe’s ceremony. By everyone, I mean my host family, Gogo, Gogo’s children and grandchildren (most of who live on the same property as Gogo), other distant relatives, and close family friends. In the kitchen, which is its own building, women prepare bath water on the stove, wash dishes, and prepare tea. Outside, young men and a woman, under the direction of male relatives, set up the second tent. Women also prepare food in the kitchen of my host family’s house. Countless tasks keep devoted servants busy all morning, from cooking and cleaning to decorating the tents.
Slie is the personification of a servant. Slie is Zuziwe’s (Zu’s) older cousin. The week before Zu’s celebration, Slie stayed at our home, preparing for Zu’s celebration. She sewed 200 seat covers, sewed beads on shoes and skirts, helped around the house, and braided extensions into family members’ hair. She baked the delectable muffins and scones for the celebration day. On celebration day, Slie kept everything together. When I did not
know what to do, or what was going on, I asked Slie. Slie was in charge of decorating the tent and all the behind the scenes work. She, literally, is the keeper of the keys. The cost of Slie’s service: priceless. Literally, the cost of Slie’s service: nothing. She serves because she is family. Slie is my hero.
Family members work from sunrise to the beginning of the celebration at noon. Yet, they do not stop working then. When I return from the celebration ceremony, the women are hard at work in the kitchen. The women seem not to stop.
My celebration point of reference for the day is a typical American wedding: over 100 guests (about 400 in this case), a ceremony, a meal reception, and dancing. Okay, so maybe the amount of animal hides and outfits differ a bit. Yet, I had anticipated that the front tables in each tent would be occupied by the ceremony party and close family members, not random guests, as it turns out. Rather, family members ensure the meal runs smoothly by running food and washing dishes. At first the role of their family members confuses me. At American weddings that I’ve attended, extended family members participate in all facets of the celebration and people are hired to prepare the celebratory spaces, provide music, and cater the food and drink. Once the ceremony starts, it seems that the family members are mostly hands off as far as running the event. Yet, at this Zulu ceremony, the family members provide the hands. This is not to say that one way of carrying out ceremonies is correct. Personally, if a ceremony is ever held in my honor, I would want my family to participate in the event. Yet, the female relatives at this ceremony work with such diligence and care that I am in awe. They give of themselves for a successful celebration in honor of Zuziwe.
In John 13, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet and tells his disciples to do likewise. At Zuziwe’s celebration, the women symbolically wash the feet of Zuziwe and all who enjoy the festivities. These women demonstrate the selfless nature of service.
Lord, May we serve as you serve us. Help us to remember how you selflessly gave your life for each of our lives. May we give of our selves as you teach us in order to give glory to you. Amen
Jesus serves his disciples by washing their feet in John 13. This is my favorite chapter in the Bible because Jesus demonstrates the boundless nature of God’s love and asks us to do the same. We should serve one another. At Zuziwe’s celebration, the female relatives astound me with the extent of their service.
I roll over in my sleeping bag; I open my eyes enough to see a woman taking a bath in a basin. A while later, I rustle in my sleep again while another woman bathes in my room. I am a very heavy sleeper, barely conscious when I first wake up, and my eyesight is poor without glasses or contacts, so I am in no way negatively impacted by these experiences. Finally, after seeing so many people moving, I decide I should get ready for the day. After cleaning myself up, I glance at my cell phone clock; the time is barely after 6. How and why is everyone already up?
I look out the door of my host family’s home on Gogo’s (grandma on my host dad’s side) property to see everyone hard at work on the day of Zuziwe’s ceremony. By everyone, I mean my host family, Gogo, Gogo’s children and grandchildren (most of who live on the same property as Gogo), other distant relatives, and close family friends. In the kitchen, which is its own building, women prepare bath water on the stove, wash dishes, and prepare tea. Outside, young men and a woman, under the direction of male relatives, set up the second tent. Women also prepare food in the kitchen of my host family’s house. Countless tasks keep devoted servants busy all morning, from cooking and cleaning to decorating the tents.
Slie is the personification of a servant. Slie is Zuziwe’s (Zu’s) older cousin. The week before Zu’s celebration, Slie stayed at our home, preparing for Zu’s celebration. She sewed 200 seat covers, sewed beads on shoes and skirts, helped around the house, and braided extensions into family members’ hair. She baked the delectable muffins and scones for the celebration day. On celebration day, Slie kept everything together. When I did not
know what to do, or what was going on, I asked Slie. Slie was in charge of decorating the tent and all the behind the scenes work. She, literally, is the keeper of the keys. The cost of Slie’s service: priceless. Literally, the cost of Slie’s service: nothing. She serves because she is family. Slie is my hero.
Family members work from sunrise to the beginning of the celebration at noon. Yet, they do not stop working then. When I return from the celebration ceremony, the women are hard at work in the kitchen. The women seem not to stop.
My celebration point of reference for the day is a typical American wedding: over 100 guests (about 400 in this case), a ceremony, a meal reception, and dancing. Okay, so maybe the amount of animal hides and outfits differ a bit. Yet, I had anticipated that the front tables in each tent would be occupied by the ceremony party and close family members, not random guests, as it turns out. Rather, family members ensure the meal runs smoothly by running food and washing dishes. At first the role of their family members confuses me. At American weddings that I’ve attended, extended family members participate in all facets of the celebration and people are hired to prepare the celebratory spaces, provide music, and cater the food and drink. Once the ceremony starts, it seems that the family members are mostly hands off as far as running the event. Yet, at this Zulu ceremony, the family members provide the hands. This is not to say that one way of carrying out ceremonies is correct. Personally, if a ceremony is ever held in my honor, I would want my family to participate in the event. Yet, the female relatives at this ceremony work with such diligence and care that I am in awe. They give of themselves for a successful celebration in honor of Zuziwe.
In John 13, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet and tells his disciples to do likewise. At Zuziwe’s celebration, the women symbolically wash the feet of Zuziwe and all who enjoy the festivities. These women demonstrate the selfless nature of service.
Lord, May we serve as you serve us. Help us to remember how you selflessly gave your life for each of our lives. May we give of our selves as you teach us in order to give glory to you. Amen
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