The Icamagu Institute and our goodbye to the East Cape

We left Bulungula this morning, and it was hard to leave.  We had a small group get up with the sunrise, and others were having heart-tearing goodbyes with our dogs, especially Henry.  He came with us to the mini-buses, and waited around for us, and then as he realized we were leaving, he started walking away.  We could see him up on the hill, and at one point he stopped and looked back at us, and I swear half of us teared up.  That was a hard good-bye!

We bumped out on the winding hills on the rocky roads.  We bumped through pot-holes and the unmistakable canyons of water gullies in the road.  We passed government road crews working on filling in the pot-holes (they have a lot of work to do!), and we passed people just going about their normal morning business:  traditionally dressed women with pots of water on their heads, kids waving to us, cow-herders and shepherds, women picking vegetables from the small garden plots in front of their houses, and many people who were just walking.  There are very few cars here, so most people walk everywhere.  We also passed goats, ducks, geese, dogs, small black bristly pigs, donkeys, horses and cows.  Some of the cows were of the traditional heritage type that were herded by the Xhosa people centuries ago. 

The Xhosa were a people who long ago moved into this area, herding their cows, coming from the North.  When they first arrived, they met with the Bushmen (San) people who were indigenous to the area, and picked up some of their customs and language.  Xhosa as a language has a number of ‘click’ sounds which they got from the Bushmen.  The main clicks are against your cheek (for an X), against your front teeth (for a C) and against the top of your mouth, rather loudly (for a Q). 

Our destination as we left Bulungula was the Icamagu Institute, where we had the opportunity to meet with one of South Africa’s foremost experts on traditional healing, customs, and spiritual beliefs (these are not separate things in Xhosa culture).  Dr. Nokuzola Mndende runs a rural center where her family lives, and where people come for healing, herbs, and information.  She has gathered a lot of traditional knowledge, and because she also has one foot in the Western tradition, she has written and published several books, and has become a government advisor on traditional healing.

We had a tour of the Institute and learned about how people lived inside the roundhouses, with gender and age segregation.  Food was cooked in the center of the house, but there was no center vent, so windows were placed on each side perpendicular to the door.  The smoke would rise up into the central cone and as it got low enough, it would exit through the windows which were placed high up.  It kept smoke just above head level, which helped to keep insects away.  Each house would have a kraal and a garden patch close to the front door, and there would also be a pen for valuable livestock, with the house inside the pen.  People would sleep directly on the floor, on animal skins.  Many people now who live in roundhouses still sleep on the floor but have small roll-up mattresses that they use at night. 

The women who lived at the Institute cooked us an amazing lunch of all traditional Xhosa food.  It was almost completely vegetarian, made with vegetables picked fresh from their garden.  We had mashed pumpkin, a kind of mash made from ground pumpkin seeds, traditional thick lumpy Xhosa beans which are more like chickpeas, spinach stewed with carrots and onions, and fresh chopped cabbage served spicy.  There was a really flavorful sauce for the beans, and some stewed chicken.  They served it with the thick fire cooked Xhosa bread and watermelon that they grew themselves.  It was incredible! 

Later we had the chance to learn about traditional clothes when Morganne and Donato were taken by the ladies and the men to be dressed up as newlyweds.  Morganne had a calf-length cloth skirt and a colorful apron, a thin hair cloth with red tassels, and a white woven shoulder cloth with embroidery, much like some kind of stiff shawl.  Donato wore a long waist cloth, and was shirtless under his beaded vest and long strands of beads.  He had a beaded headband and necktie and carried a carved stick.  The whole time the ladies were dressing Morganne, they were giggling and enjoying themselves.  The wedding party made a grand entrance and we learned how weddings work, and what the roles of the newly married are.  We also learned the etiquette for when a man decides he wants to take a second wife—he has to ask his first wife’s permission, build another house nearby, and convince a woman to be a second wife.  Make no mistake, this is a patriarchal society.  There is no such thing as divorce, and if a woman chooses to leave her marriage, she can go home, but will also be “a woman who left her marriage.”  She can’t marry again and there is some stigma.   Men can leave their marriage, and come back any time with no stigma in either case.

We had the chance to ask about healing, and one of the things we learned was the Xhosas believe that at the heart of all illness is too much mucous.  The way they treat this build-up of deadly mucous is by cleansing the body with a totally alkaline diet.  In particular, they start with 1-2 weeks of a total carrot diet.  After that, the body is more in balance, and they start using herbs and roots to make teas which are taken as medicine.  We asked if this was how they would treat HIV/AIDS, and the answer is yes.  They believe that with a very alkaline diet, and the use of these medicinal teas, they can keep the viral count down, or possibly even cure HIV/AIDS.  Does this work or not?  It may be a moot point, as for many rural people there is no possibility of accessing anti-retroviral drugs, and traditional folk medicine is all they have. 

After we left the Institute it was a race to the Umthata airport, and a big goodbye to our amazing local guides Vilile Ndlumbini and Soseko Yelani.  They drove our minibuses, hung out with us, gave us lots of local information, answered questions, joked and teased, chased off dogs or fed them as the occasion demanded, and were generally both really great guys.  This part of our class has been truly  spectacular, and it feels like this big goodbye to the Transvaal is a lot of goodbyes all wrapped into one. 

Quno, Nelson Mandela's childhood village

We first arrived in the Transvaal region of South Africa by flying into the tiny airport of Umthata.  This small city is starting to boom, with lots of new multi-room squared houses (instead of the traditional roundhouses) and a big university (Walter Sisulu University, named for Nelson Mandela’s mentor).  Apparently, many young people who moved away to get jobs in the bigger cities are now middle-aged and want to come back, and are returning with enough money to build their families much larger houses.  On the scale of things, these are still relatively small houses, but it is unmistakable that there is a sense of an influx of money and change.  Because this area was a former homeland, it is very heavily dominated by the Xhosa people.  We see very few white people here.  And Xhosa culture is all around us.  The married women have their hair tied up in scarves, and many have their faces painted with designs.  They wear ankle length skirts, with t-shirts or long sleeved shirts, and a colorful blanket or cloth tied around their waists.  Most of the younger women and teens are wearing fully westernized clothes, jeans, etc.  Umthata has a mix of old shops and big shiny new chain stores.  There’s even a mini mall.

Driving out of Umthata it quickly became very rural, with big round rolling hills and the faint promise of ocean air.  We were now traveling by mini-bus, the same as regular South Africans.  These mini-buses have 5 rows of seats, and we are packed into two of them, with a trailer hauling our luggage behind.  Our destination was Quno, the small village where Nelson Mandela grew up and where he is buried.  This tiny rural village is still remote and is mostly roundhouses, but more and more roundhouses are being replaced by small squared houses.  The main road runs behind the village, and across the street is the home Mandela built for himself and his family after he was released from prison.  That house is large with a guarded gate and a fence.  But the village is open, and the kraal for Mandela’s ancestors is still there, even though his mother’s roundhouse is long gone.  Kraals are fenced off areas where the family are buried, and each family plot has their own kraal in the yard, usually right in front. Whenever there are big decisions to be made, all the men go into the kraal to conduct their business, as a way of inviting the spirits of the ancestors to the table and perhaps as a way to remember that the family reputation may be on the line.  This little village has just built a brand new school, so it will likely start to develop even more as the children are educated locally.

Quno is on a small rounding hill, with a long gentle incline into a small valley with a little stream winding through.  The hills around it are all slightly bigger, including the large hill where Mandela is buried up above the village.  They have built a small tower with a red light on top, and the light stays lit year round as a memorial.  While Mandela spent the years of his childhood here, the rest of his life including his education in his teens was elsewhere.  But Mandela always called Quno home.

It was pretty amazing to stand in this place, with the dusty dirt roads and the chickens and the friendly dogs, looking out into the green valley and off to the rounding hills, and think this is the same view Nelson Mandela saw every day when he was growing up.  Quno is a truly beautiful place with a sense of calmness that felt like what peace must feel like if it was vested in a place.   

Bulungula Village

We have spent the last three days in the tiny little rural village of Bulungula, right on the Indian Ocean.  There is a small lodge here, a project that was started by an NGO about 10 years ago to help give local employment and bring in a little bit of money.  Now the village runs the lodge themselves, and it serves as a community center for the local young people, a place for village entrepreneurs to create and sell their wares and services, and a hostel for visitors.  There is no electricity in the village, so everything is run by solar power or, in the case of the showers, by liquid fuel that we light by hand to get hot water.  The toilets are composting, so have two containers, one for solid and one for liquid.  The community center itself has a kitchen where the local ladies cook lunch and dinner, and make the most amazing local Xhosa bread.  This bread is made in huge loafs, circular, about two feet across.  They are cooked in the fire, so have a smoky taste in the crust.  The bread is chewy and flavorful, and crusty on the outside.  They sell it by the huge slice (for about 15 cents) and it’s incredibly delicious!

The lodge is up on a hill, probably once a large sand dune.  All around us are high and very rounded hills, covered in green grass and dotted with small traditional thatch roof roundhouses in small clusters.  There is no town center, the whole town is spread over several miles of hills with lots of grass and woods and gardens and amazing views in between.  Our lodge is at the confluence of a snaky slow tidal river as it meets the Indian Ocean.  The sound of waves is constant, and there is the smell of salt water in the air.  It’s incredibly green here, with the grounds covered in grass with small bumpy hillocks and cow and goat dung everywhere.  Animals wander freely in this village, including at the lodge, so in the morning a persistent rooster starts crowing well before the break of dawn.  Chickens roost up on the aloe bushes. Cows wander by, goats and baby chicks are underfoot.  There is a small pack of dogs that hang out at the lodge, several of whom are especially friendly, and one of whom follows us everywhere, including canoeing today.  We’ve been calling this dog Henry, and he apparently followed a group of beach hikers here last week and has just stuck around. 

We are staying in small traditional roundhouses, with thatch roofs and dung floors.  The floors are so finished that they feel like concrete, but really are made of the traditional dung. There are a few roundhouses that have huge whale vertebrae to use as chairs.  The doors are the traditional half-doors, with a top and a bottom.  The local people keep the bottom part shut against animals but leave the top open all day for the light and the air.  The only concession to modernity is the single lightbulb hanging from the center of the thatch ceiling. It gets dark quickly and there is no lighting outside, so we carry our flashlights with us everywhere.  There’s a lovely fire pit with benches around it, and every night they light a fire.  On the night we arrived, a local young man sat and played a traditional drum, which was really fabulous!

Dinner here is one choice, and is mainly traditional cooking, although they always have a meat and vegetarian option of the same dish.  We've had a sweet and spicy lamb stew, a kind of sausage stew served over the local lumpy and sticky beans, and large fish meatballs.  They have a cooler with drinks, and we are on the honor system to mark down what we take and pay as we leave.  There is instant coffee and tea and rooibos, the South African red tea.  We’ve had free time each afternoon for walking on the beach, swimming, or getting a massage or going horseback riding (which are both local entrepreneurial businesses).   It’s so incredibly beautiful here, it’s a little bit like an actual paradise. 

This area of South Africa is called the Transvaal, and it’s a former homeland for the Xhosa people under Apartheid.  This is the place where many Xhosas were forcibly sent when they were removed from other areas of South Africa, and it functioned a bit like a Native American reservation.  People were contained here, and there were very few resources and little education.  The current government is slowly trying to address the remaining social problems, and schools have been built, including a big new secondary school in Bulunugula that will open soon.  Electricity is coming out here within the next year.  

The same NGO that helped open the lodge also helped create a nursery/early primary school here, which is now funded by the government. We had a chance to visit the school today.  About 40 local young children are educated there, in both early learning and social development skills.  We got to tour several classrooms (each in a traditional roundhouse), and we saw the library, which is incredibly well-stocked and organized, as several volunteer groups from the US and Europe have adopted the school.  The teachers are almost all local young people, who were educated and now have found jobs back in their own community.  We could see how incredibly passionate they are about their mission.  Part of the project of the school is to also help educate parents about healthy child-raising, which is important in an area where more than 90% of the adults are uneducated.  This is one of the poorest areas in South Africa. 

As I’m writing this, we have a group of students sitting at the fire pit out in the sun, and we have another group, with Mariam, walking with our guide along the beach for a long afternoon walk.  We have a few others desperately trying to do laundry by hand in the big plastic tub they let us borrow.  A few of the students have hired one of the local village masseuses for a quick massage.  We all woke up early this morning to see the sunrise from the beach, while a local woman made us all crepes and served them on the beach.  It was glorious.  And then, later in the day, we saw people gathering on one of the hills across the river from us.  It was a funeral, and the first thing they do is gather all the family while the men dig the grave.  They were out there for hours.  The funeral continues over the next several days, and, really sadly, we learned that the person who died was the sister of the woman who cooked us pancakes this morning.  The sister was young, and it was a sad death, or so we were told.  That put some things in perspective for a lot of us.  Imagine, having so few economic opportunities that even on the day of your sister’s funeral, you still have to do a big job because the income is so important to you.  I think a lot of students are finding it challenging to think about this, and I know I am too. 

We visited a local healer today, a Sangoma, who uses traditional herbs and beliefs to treat medical, emotional, and psychological symptoms.  That’s one of the more interesting things we have learned, that people here consider any unbalance or unhappiness to be part of an illness that might be treated by a Sangoma.  Of course, a Sangoma can’t treat everything, and the local healer here will send people on to a hospital or clinic if need be.  In fact, yesterday we saw a dusty old ambulance drive up—no lights or sirens—and learned it was here to transport a teenager who fell of a horse and broke his arm.  He had been sitting with us, arm in a sling, in obvious pain, for hours before the ambulance arrived.  Tomorrow we are visiting an institute of traditional healing, where a local professor has made a practice of systematically tracking, testing and categorizing local herbal and folkloric healing knowledge. 

We’ve had the chance to visit a local woman, who along with a friend, showed us how to paint our faces with traditional mud patterns (for sunscreen as it turns out!).  We also learned how to tie up our hair in colorful scarves, and pick greens and cooks them up for lunch.  First we had to carry the water on our heads (universally unsuccessfully) and then gather firewood for the fire.  By that time, the greens and pap (polenta) certainly tasted good!

We go on from here to the Kgalalgadi (Kalahari) via a transit overnight in Johannesburg.  Our first night there we will be sleeping out in tents with a bushman family, and will not have internet.  We don’t know if we will have internet after that.  Once we leave the Kalahari area, we will be in Cape Town and will have internet the whole time (and the blog will be current).  It will be hard to leave our little paradise tomorrow, it will be hard to leave behind these amazing people and experiences, and it will be really hard to leave “our” dog Henry too!