Sunday in Olwebede.

Mama Joyce woke us up at 6 to feed us porridge, coke, and candy bars. Sister Cindi works at the supermarket Spar so I assumed they bought a lot of food that they thought we would like. (When she was saying she worked at Spar, I thought she was saying “Spa” and asked her if they gave massages-she was somewhat confused.) After breakfast, we bathed. Bathing and using the bathroom need some explaining. There was an outhouse (that looked to be almost filled) with a stone seat that you could squat over. Next to the toilet was where we were told to bath. We were each given basins to wash/splash with according to size, which meant I got the little small basin while Brian got the big one, and nick the middle. I knew the three of us would become closer to each other as we squeezed into the outhouse and squatted naked over our basins and splashed ourselves. After a truly hilarious bathing experience, we headed out to go hiking with Spiwe. He took us over the clay cliffs which were beautiful, and then around the community to meet people. I found it fascinating that he knew everyone, and even if he didn’t, “Sawbona?” and “Unjani?(how are you)” were said to everyone. People continually stopped us and talked to us in Zulu. We were a big hit, and I felt Zulu beginning to click slightly. After a couple hours with Spiwe we were dropped off home to go to a funeral with Mama Joyce.

We walked about a half a mile to the funeral. How do Zulu funerals and weddings work? Well, there are no invites and you don’t need to know the family. You hear about something from somebody and you go; all are welcomed. After the walk, we arrived and Nick promptly brushed by a car and set off its alarm. We were ushered in and sat next to the priest. A lot of people were there, and the priest talked in Zulu, but definitely mentioned us at certain times. After people made speeches, and donations, there was a lot of beautiful singing. After singing, and walking past the body, we headed outside where we walked, singing, with the casket. There was a lot of crying. A woman would start to wail, and then be taken by someone into a house. We stood around the grave singing as the old man was taken from his casket and laid in the grave. After the priest said some things, the men took turns shoveling dirt onto the hole. We were told to take part, and we picked up shovels to help. Taking part in the ceremony made me feel like they were welcoming me into their community.

After the service, everyone sat down around the homestead, and woman come around with trays and feed everyone. For the most part, the men sat outside the tent, drinking beer, and “chowing.” Chowing is when food, usually a chicken or goat meat, is put on a wooden tray for men to sit around and share. They also pass around beers in a similar communal manner. After eating, and battling with Zulu, we left, exhausted, with Mama Joyce.

When we arrived home, we were ready to sleep. While I wanted to nap, little girls were outside playing. The three of us came from our room, and jumped into a game which involved using your feet to toss rusty cans into a basin. After an hour or so of playing, some men came over to meet us and we went and grabbed a few beers. We sat in the living room passing around the beer. They then made us dance the traditional Zulu dance and take pictures with them. Dinner was delicious imfino(spinach) and again too much.