Durbs and KwaMashu

Some light chronicling of the first part of my 10 day Southern African road trip:

Inspired by watching the finals of the Mr. Price Pro surf competition--my first live surfing spectator experience--I was determined to catch some Durban waves the following day.

It was the first time I have surfed without a full body wetsuit, and my first time using a fiberglass board. The water was blessedly warm--and a nice contrast to the usual toil at Muizenberg. I don't think I can go back to surfing there after the suitless freedom...And the waves were staggered such that I had ample time to set up. I still need to get over my fear of paddling out and then turning the board around to catch the waves so I keep it pathetically shallow. But nothing beats the workout nor the the exhilaration of the rare triumph of riding a crest of ocean froth.

My surfing buddy Niv and me.

Outgoing ambassadorial scholar Smangele, who is headed to Seattle in the Fall hosted us, taking our road trip troop to her house in the Durban township KwaMashu. She showed us the school where Mandela cast his vote in the first free elections, and also took us to a Zulu village, Elbuhleni where the virgins of the Nazareth religious community were presented. The all had diagonal strapped dresses and came from all over. This was a holy summit, of which we did not have a comprehensive explanation, but Sma thought it would be a neat experience for us to see.

Though I have to say the best part of that visit to was actually when we met one of the church elders, after efforts had been made to track him down, and he politely declined to have an audience with us, saying that he did NOT have to time to tell us more about the proceedings. Now one might wonder why a denial to access was enlightening rather than disappointing, but to be honest, sometimes coming as a visitor to someone's community does not automatically grant you the right to know everything, nor should it oblige someone to explain themselves or their community to you. And in fact, in keeping with the theme of Chimurenga's latest issue, "Conversations with poets who refuse to speak", silence is power. It reminded me of the time when I went to a Vudum sacred forest in Ouidah, Benin. There were parts of the forest that were off limits to those who were not practitioners, as it would be a violation, a sacrilege of sorts. And it made me think a lot about the traveler's impulse to know and to question the authenticity which we seek in certain cultural encounters.

After leaving the village we returned to Sma's house where she showed us pictures of her recent work in Oman, where she had been teaching. And we enjoyed a very South African meal, with beef, boerwors, paap, beans, and beetroot salad. Best paap (maize meal paste--something in between mashed potatoes and fufu) I've had yet!

Me, Allie (Em K's sister), Emily K (fellow CPT scholar), Niv, and Sma at Sma's house

More road trip stories and pictures will be coming through the pipeline shortly. Keep it locked here to get the 411.