Weekend Away, Part II: Umemulo Ceremony

SATURDAY

Driving to Kathleen’s rural site, we were transported from a dusty township to a mountainous area, dotted with rondevals, hordes of mangy goats, and bright orange desert flowers.

Mesinga is beautiful. In just one hour we were in a completely different area, governed by traditional leaders and Zulu customs. Women do not wear pants there, so we were clad in our finest mid-calf length skirts. We were also prepared for two days of conserving water. With limited bathing opportunities ahead of us and a lack of available drinking water, we brought supplies—baby wipes and two liter water bottles—to ensure we did not deplete Kathleen’s water supply.

Once we settled into her one-roomed house adjacent to the main house, toured the property and cooed at the pen full of baby goats, we set out for a picnic lunch along the banks of Tugela River. We walked past quiet compounds, each with a coral for livestock. Groups of women sat under trees, calling out to us as we passed. The whole area was quiet, still in the heat. A few kids fished from rocks at the river, but for the most part, we ate in solitude under a new metal walking bridge.

Saturday afternoon was filled with lots of lounging, playing games with neighbor kids and an isiZulu lesson with Kathleen’s sheepish high school tutor. It is incredibly refreshing to spend a weekend away from site with other volunteers. We find ourselves swapping stories and commiserating. I am very fortunate to have these ladies within a two hour distance from my site.

SUNDAY

We woke up to the sound of neighbors greeting Kathleen’s host family. Sunday was the big day, the reason we had made the trek. We were there to attend an umemulo for two girls in the community. In Zulu culture, this coming of age ceremony usually happens when a girl turns 21. It is her official debut into society, marking her availability for dating and marriage. In the rural areas, girls frequently become pregnant as teens, so the ceremony is often held when girls are 16, 17 or 18 years to ensure they are still pure. If they pass a virginity test performed by a well-respected gogo (grandmother) in the community, Zulu men dressed as warriors dance at the ceremony.

The umemulo took place at on a nearby compound. At 11am we met with Kathleen’s counterpart, Gugu, who would be our guide during the ceremony. Once we arrived at the compound, she introduced us to the host family and found us small jobs to help out with. The men and women had different tasks that day. Women of all ages were busy preparing food for 200+ people. There was lots of scurrying about, drying dishes, peeling potatoes and washing veggies. The kinds ran around, half dressed and unable to sit still. In the lower part of the compound, young women were busy getting dressed. Dark pleated skirts were painted black with ash. Beads and headdresses were secured onto bare-breasted young women, nervously preparing for the dancing. Each age group at their own outfits.

At about 1pm, the ceremony began. The young women began in the corral, an important cultural place that women are not allowed to enter outside of ceremonies. All of the dancers circled the property, singing and dancing. After that, everyone followed them down to a field. Crowds of neighbors gathered as the ceremony began. Each young woman danced with tin cans tied to her ankles. Groups and individuals would move in front of the line to perform lots of high kicks, hip-shaking and can-whacking. Men, old and young, would then enter the group with shields and spears raised. These warriors were encircled by young women, a kind of taunting dance between the two sexes. It was very exciting to watch—all of the colors and sounds of Zulu culture on display in front of it. As the dancing continued, more groups of older women joined the young women. Each group had a distinctive outfit, color scheme and hat. These women were married and wore capes to indicate their status. The warriors arrived in a cloud of dust, spears raised. They marched in, chanting and encircling the whole group. At this point, the audience had swelled to several hundred people. Women and children stood watching in the front, while men drank in the back. A group of highly respected men sat on benches, occasionally participating in the warriors dances.

After about two hours, we all followed the retreating dancers up to the compound for food, alcohol and sporadic dancing. The men all moved into the corral to eat from platters of goat and cow meat. The heavy drinking began, which led to several colorful encounters with drunk warriors, all very interested in the four American girls wandering around.

By the time we made it back to Kathleen’s house, dust had set in. The air was chilly, in stark contrast with the blaring heat of the afternoon.  

The next round of umemulo ceremonies won’t take place until December. They happen during school holidays, so the girls have time to go door-to-door for donations and learn the dances. The girls don’t bathe for a week leading up to the big day. They also must dawn the insides of a goat (or maybe a cow?) which is stretched into a kind of cape. It is a huge production, a right of passage that the whole community is involved with.