When we got up and around, I stepped outside to a rather dark day as it looked like it could rain. M'ma came out of the kitchen so I followed her, thinking she was going to feed the chickens when, in fact, she was going outside to wash our supper dishes. She does not speak English so I did my best to communicate with her, and she agreed to have her photograph taken. I asked Joe later in the day if it was difficult to convince his mother to have white people staying at her place, and he quickly responded no - because his father had a white friend who worked with him in the sugar cane fields so they were comfortable with white people.
We went back to the hotel, showered and ate breakfast before heading out for a township tour.
The township tour was by car. We didn't get out and walk at all but Joe took us through particular portions of the township explaining things for us. For instance, the township was partitioned for black people, coloured people and Indian people. The township was built close to town because white people needed the labor of those living in the township but this township was different than the township we visited in Cape Town and saw in other communities as we passed through. The homes were not shacks with corrugated "roofs" crammed really close together.
The government built the township, and the original township had square, concrete buildings with two bedrooms, a kitchen and a lounging area. After apartheid, the residents could purchase their homes. They all purchased their homes, and there were quite a few newer homes built by the government. All now are owned, and many are extending them into larger units. The land on which each home is located is small and with homes being extended to house more people, the space for a garden is just about non-existent.
Whereas, the homes in Joe's village were not built by the government but by the residents. Many had traditional Zulu huts alongside the square homes. One we visited was built in a traditional Zulu style i.e. particular huts for particular purposes in the compound.
What the government did provide the village were outhouses, and spigots for water. By law, the government has to provide a spigot for water within 300 meters of each home. But you might have to walk 300 meters a day to get water. Lucky for Joe and his m'ma, there was spigot in their yard but I think it was shared with others in close proximity.
As we were driving through the township, Joe spotted a woman who was wearing a blue dress - it kinda looked like a uniform. She was going to church so Joe asked if we could attend so she jumped in the car and we drove to the church service. We drove into a compound of old buildings, many of which were partially dilapidated. The woman went in to confer with someone, and a man, also wearing a blue tunic, emerged. After a brief discussion with Joe, we were given permission to participate and attend a portion of the service - an independent church of Zion that apparently was registered with the government, as the pastor showed us the certificate. Joe told us we would need to make a small contribution.
There was another church service also being held within the compound, one with musical instruments so we could hear singing and music. The service we attended did not have musical instruments - it did have drums.
The service we attended was held in an old warehouse with about four large stalls and large metal doors that rolled down. The door was rolled down after we entered but was rolled up whenever someone arrived. We took off our shoes and entered.
There were only three males there - one was the head of the church; the other attendees were all female (about 25). They all stood - there was an altar of sorts at the front with a cloth with three colors: green, white and blue. White was for purity of love, blue symbolized young love (the sadness of being apart), green symbolized always thinking of the other person. There were about 12 bottles of water - large bottles in which you purchase water -- which were blessed. There was a mat in front of which were 3 candles the pastor lit before beginning the ceremony. There also were some papers - CVs of folks searching for a job.
We were invited to the front of the church where we observed from the side.
Everyone stood - Joe told us it was the kind of church he attended and the service would go on until 4 p.m. or so. It was about 10:30 a.m. when we were invited inside.
There were two drums they played just for us after the first song was completed. It was all in Zulu but I could make out Jesus, Hallelujah and Amen.
After a couple of songs, the pastor explained and described all the things before the altar, which also included some yarn and eggs.
We were asked to introduce ourselves and make an offering, then we left.
I did not take any photographs, although the pastor said he didn't have any issues with it but some of the people attending the service might not want their photograph taken so I respected that.
It was one of the most interesting things we've observed since being in South Africa.
We continued to the township's original cemetery, which Joe told us took some 20 years to fill because it was just old people who died of old age. They created another one in town, which they said would take 50 years to fill but it took only two years because young people are dying from alcohol, drugs - all the things that inflict our young people in the Native community.
Joe then took us to his favorite spot, which is a high spot just outside the township where there is the Martyr's Cross, which is a monument that was erected in memory of the first Christian martyr in Zululand and South Africa. It memorializes Maqhamusela Khanyile. In the latter half of the 1800s, Zulu soldiers were not permitted to become baptized Christians, as they were then presumed to pay loyalties to their beliefs and not to the Zulu king. However, Khanyile was prepared to die for his determination to dedicate his life to Christianity and to refuse to serve in the army of King Cetshwayo. And die he did. After one misfire, the weapon let off a single shot, and the countryside fell silent. He was put to death near the Norwegian Mission Station on top of Mpodeweni Hill in in 1877. Apparently, Khanyile's story of faith and courage inspired subsequent generations of young and old alike to pursue their commitment to what really matters to them. In 1937, the concrete cross was erected on the hill to honor Khanyile. It was replaced by a cross of steel in 1941 then, in 2007, the granite monument we saw was unveiled. It is illuminated at night. Joe said Khanyile's body was stolen so nobody knows where he was buried.
The view from atop Mpodeweni Hill was beautiful. Given a sunny day (which it was not), Joe said you could see the Indian Ocean. Villages were spread throughout the landscape.
Then we went to a restaurant just outside town that served "barbeque." I believe the Zulu word is shisnyma, but I'm not sure. There was a meat counter of sorts where you could choose the meat you wanted cooked on a braai. Joe chose some liver, some beef steak and some sausage. I tried getting a photograph of them cooking but a rather stern m'ma would not give me permission. The meat was tasty, and it was served with a bowl of maize and a bucket of water. You ate everything with your fingers. Meat in the village is a luxury, and more often than not, meat is eaten only when there is a celebration of a ceremony so this was pretty special.
Joe's cousin's daughter just happened to be having a birthday party there, and we were invited to join them. I drank a beer, visited and took photos. Beth danced with a nice Zulu guy. The young women had what looked like tutus on; when asked about it, they said it was the theme for the party. The young woman was turning 22. Apparently, her dad did not give her a birthday party on her 21st birthday because there is a particular Zulu ceremony that had to be observed so he gave her what she wanted for her 22nd. The young woman attends university.
That concluded our time in Zululand and with Joe, with whom we had a nice connection. It was the very best we've experienced so far on our adventure.
We arrived in Durban around 3:30 p.m., turned in our car and got a taxi to our "Palace," which is on a promenade along the ocean in Durban.
Settled in for the evening. We have a half-day tour of Durban tomorrow then we intend to lay low, as we fly out of Durban at 7:45 a.m. Tuesday to begin our three weeks in Zambia, Zimbabwe and Tanzania.
This is Joe's m'ma early Sunday morning coming out to wash the previous night's dishes.
Had to take this photo and share it. It is still water, and "It's not made in China," apparently a reference to the fact that most of the goods in the country are provided by China. We think it's a joke but, apparently, China pledged to invest $14.7 billion in South Africa and grant loans to its state power utility and logistics company in July of this year.
This is the view from Joe's village and features one of the government's contributions to the village - and out house.
A view from Mpodeweni Hill, where the Martyr's Cross is located.
Another view from Mpodeweni Hill. You can see the various buildings and homes of village residents dotting the landscape.
This is the "KFC Butchery" (featuring Coke) that is in the township we visited. I believe it's a joke too. Gotta love Zulu humor. :)
Just a Sunday in the township.
My friend the musician. We were waiting on Joe, and this guy just stopped to visit. He's a musician. His father was a Nazarene pastor. He enjoyed talking.
The birthday girl. She turned 22 years old, and we were invited to her birthday party.
Beth with the birthday girl and others attending the party.
Our barbecue and maize lunch.
Joe, our guide for the three days and two nights we spent in Zululand.
The view from our 9th-floor room at The Palace on the ocean front in Durban.
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