I did not buy as much in August as I usually do because there were so many other things going on. I had four trips out of site to the office and/or PST. I had a full month of siSwati lessons. And I made some big purchases, like a new tank of gas for my stove, a haircut, and 22 postcards that impeded my ability to buy food.
So many entertaining things happen in my life in Swaziland. These are the moments I will want to remember because they make me laugh, and they show insight into my daily routine. These moments are often hard to photograph and usually last only a minute or two. I will start sharing them with you in this occasional series.
My bhuti who is a sangoma has finally come home! He is the last immediate family member for me to meet. He met my parents last week (he did not want to disturb me) when they were visiting. He has been in training in sangoma school.
The sangoma in my training village.
A sangoma is a medicine man. A sangoma uses trees and herbs to create medicines and he tells the future by reading bones (his bones also include dominos, shells, wood, and dice). He sings and dances to communicate with the ancestors. He can also cast spells, although he refuses to kill anyone.
He asked my permission before going into detail about his abilities, because he knows that some people do not believe in traditional medicine. I said he can talk all he wants because it does not matter if I believe, because Swazis continue to do so.
He made an example of a few of his abilities. For instance, he could arrange for all the men of Swaziland to notice me (I don’t need any help in that department, though). He could also be approached by a man who loves me and I have shunned. He could make it so that I change my mind about this man.
Tomorrow I will be learning a few sangoma dances and songs, and how to play his drum.
Anyone out there with sangoma questions, now is the time. My bhuti is happy to share what he knows! I asked for the difference between a sangoma and an inyanga, and he said the main difference is that an inyanga does not sing and dance, or communicate with the ancestors.
While on vacation with my parents, we ate at many restaurants, but also prepared some of our own food.
I had two spectacular burgers and an amazing plate of seafood.
A burger with a craft beer sampler at the airport.
Prawns and hake at the Ski-Boat Club in St. Lucia.
Because I have so many wonderful photos from PCV Kirby at www.whatiskirbydoing.com, I want to share a few more of the Umhlanga ceremony. If you want to read more about my experience, check out day six (delivering the reeds) and day seven (the big dancing day).
Nonduduzo, the head maiden, wearing black feathers on the left, and the eldest princess Sikhanyiso in the center in orange with a staff, are the first to dance.
Sikhanyiso and Nonduduzo in the center leading the dancing.
King Mswati III greeting special guests and foreign dignitaries who have attended the festival.
King Mswati III and the queen mother greeting honored guests.
My group dancing on the field.
My group dancing on the field.
Me again. The girls in the background have already danced and are lined up on the field for the special dances generally led by royalty and the head maiden.
The group dancing.
The king greeting participants.
The king bowing to members of the royal family denoted by their red feathers.
The king walking through the participants.
Maidens watching the king.
Maidens watching for the king while dancing. We were singing a song about the king.
Women from the royal family, likely wives of King Mswati III, dance out to their children to perform kudlalisela, the bow of respect and appreciation.
So many entertaining things happen in my life in Swaziland. These are the moments I will want to remember because they make me laugh, and they show insight into my daily routine. These moments are often hard to photograph and usually last only a minute or two. I will start sharing them with you in this occasional series.
I got on a khumbi full of high school boys and sat down in the last empty seat.
I always listen to what people say when I enter a khumbi. Sometimes they say nothing about me. Other times they do, and when they do not except me to speak siSwati, I greet the khumbi.
This moment was different, because my audience was high school boys. Someone from the back says that the boy I am sitting next to is lucky because he is sitting next to me. In siSwati I hear the words for luck and seat, which was enough for me to understand the meaning.
So I turn to the boy sitting next to me and say in English, “So I hear that you are lucky to be sitting next to me.” The response was many jaws dropped from the boys on the khumbi and they stopped talking about me audibly.
The day of big dancing started off like every other day – with me unsure of what was going to happen. It turns out that Monday’s activities are a replica of Sunday’s, except that the reeds have already been delivered.
When it was time to parade for the king at the kraal, I knew not to look in his direction. The queen mother still looked like she was sleeping.
And then things started to change.
Men from the king’s regiments stepped out of line to perform kudlalisela for me, which is an act of respect and appreciation. At its simplest, it is a bow, but the men usually danced forward and made an elaborate bow.
Then my girls told me to sing.
I wasn’t expecting this because they had me sing the day before. I was thinking, today is the official performance. Can they really want me to sing now in front of every one?
Of course they did, because they loved showing me off.
It is a strange thing, being put on display for others. This is why I practiced so long and hard, but I am also happy to show off for disbelieving Swazis. The gasps, jaws dropping, and looks of surprise is oddly reaffirming to why I am here and why I should be respected and treated more like a Swazi than a tourist.
So I sang.
Gwalagwala gwalagwala
Phumani ngibukele
Ngingaliselikhona
Ngoba ngaliselikhona
Phumani ngibukele
Ngoba ngaliselikhona
Men in one of the kraals started to point me out and comment that a white girl was singing.
Then the tourists came running with their giant cameras.
And then I changed songs to Mine ngilitjitji phaca (I am a pure maiden). The response is called out to the princess who created the song, but instead, my group was calling out my name, Hloniphile, which means respect. Essentially the response says, “Say it, Hloniphile!”
At this point, a camera man and his assistant, both of whom I recognized from other cultural events because they dress in Zulu traditional wear, saw me.
I was standing front and center of my group calling out the lines, and they came up right in front of me and asked me to slow my walking pace down, because they had to walk backward downhill in order to film me. (I will be asking them for this footage when I see them next, which I hope is at Incwala in December.)
Remember, traditional wear includes bare-chested females, beginning in the first photo below. All were taken by fellow PCV Kirby from www.whatiskirbydoing.com.
Leading the group onto the field singing Mine ngilitjitji phaca.
They followed until we turned onto the field, where the Peace Corps photographers were waiting for me.
Still singing.
We continued on around the back of the field to the large mass of participants waiting for the king to arrive at the field so the show could start.
The president of Zambia Edgar Lungu and King Mswati III.
The king’s retinue in the stadium.
Nonduduzo, the head maiden, on the left with black feathers, and Sikhanyiso, the eldest princess, in orange with the staff.
My group and I sang and danced until we lined up, at which point I asked our leader to line everyone up. Our formation was a disaster the day before, so I was really hoping for uniform lines with uniform spacing. Apparently I was asking too much, especially because our first line left no space between us and the previous group, and the group after us was on our tail.
Somehow we were directly behind the same group again, who easily overshadowed us.
I was able to form about 12 lines for my group and the girls only kind of stayed in line. One of my favorite comments from my friends watching was that it looked like I was trying so hard and the rest of my group did not care. This is a mostly accurate statement. They even sung a song we had not practiced, so I did not know the words. Fortunately we eventually changed to something I knew, so I could sing along. One of my friend’s Swazi siblings said they were surprised to see me singing at all.
My group said they were going to take their shirts off. As you can see, they did not. I was irked about this because I could have matched.
Singing and dancing on the field.
At least there had been spectacular parts of this event before our moment in the spotlight on the field because it wasn’t particularly special.
We headed to the back of the field again to do our own dancing and singing while the parade finished. Then the police made us get in line because the king was coming!
The king and his retinue on the field greeting the participants.
The king’s bow.
I watched his special staff cross back and forth across the field and he eventually neared. I had been waiting for months for the king to greet me. I thought him stopping in front of me was highly probable but not guaranteed. The rest of my group really wanted him to greet us as well, because he is their king. They told me to sing and dance hard and perfectly so the king will notice us.
I was watching the king approach. Also note the tan lines on my feet. I had put sunscreen on my feet, which immediately collected all the dust. My feet were disgusting.
The king did not even look our way. The news and the regiments did, with many of them stopping for photographs and kudlalisela, but there was no king.
President Lungu from Zambia and King Mswati III leaving the field. If you look straight back along the line in the grass, in the orange is Princess Sikhanyiso and in the blue to the right is the new bride-to-be.
After the king returned to his seat, the special dances started. The head maiden danced solo, the second-eldest daughter danced with many of the other elder royal young women, and finally the eldest princess performed a solo dance that included many modern interpretations of the traditional dance, including the moonwalk. Her dance was quite lengthy and was shown on the news the following night.
Finally, the dancing was finished, and after a quick round of goodbyes, I departed, already thinking about next year.
***
All my posts about the event are listed below.
Day one: Registration at Umhlanga
Day two: The first day of marching
Day three: Cutting umhlanga
Day four: Another long march
Day six: Delivering the reeds to the queen mother
Most of my herbs in my garden have been growing like crazy. The more I pick, the more they grow, and I am having a hard time keeping up.
I have started hanging the herbs to dry in my room, and I quickly filled the space I created. Next I need to deleaf the smaller herbs and decide how I am storing them.
Paprika, parsley, chamomile, thyme, sage, marjoram, mint, and cayenne.
Delivering the reeds was everything I wanted and more. You can read about that day here. I finally got the 1500 photos from day six and day seven, so here are the best ones from delivering the reeds. Please note that Swazi traditional wear for Umhlanga involves being bare-chested, which is reflected in some of these photos. All photos were taken by Kirby at www.whatiskirbydoing.com.
Walking from the camping grounds to the parade grounds. We were singing about an escaped cow.
Waiting in line to drop off our reeds.
The 80,000 participants waiting to parade.
The president of Zambia Edgar Lungu and King Mswati III arriving.
The elder noble females opening the parade. On the left of front line with lots of regalia and a sword is Nonduduzo, the leader of the maidens. She is not a member of the royal family and will keep this role until she marries. The eldest princess Sikhanyiso is carrying the staff in the center with the orange decorations. The king’s newest bride-to-be is to her left with the light blue and white decorations.
One of the well-organized groups.
Participants were asked to wear the livadla, a skirt of colored strings, like the participant on the left. Some participants still chose to wear the indlamu, the short navy blue or black skirt with studs and the heavy pompom-like decorations the maidens in the front row of this group are wearing.
Another excellent group with members of the royal family wearing the red feathers. This group was right before mine, so people did not pay much attention to us.
Close-up of the indlamu outfit.
Many of my travels in the last year have not been Cedric the gnome friendly. I can’t really say, hey lion, let me pose my gnome with you. This has led to a lack of Cedric adventures, plus he was injured during a photoshoot at Chaco Canyon at Christmas 2015, and since then, I have regularly kept him at home to keep him safe.
Last week, though, I went on Cedric-friendly adventures.
On the beach on the east coast of Mauritius.
Meeting a giant tortoise at Ile aux Aigrettes, Mauritius.
At Nelson Mandela’s house in SOWETO.
Today was the third session of my healthy living skipping rope activity at the primary school.
It was the best yet as numbers dropped from 150 to 15. Today’s learners participated and proved they learned something in the first session.
I expect the numbers will continue to fluctuate, making my work extremely difficult. At least the participants are having fun.
And their skipping rope skills are incredibly impressive.
travelin' the globe 