Thanking the Ancestors

A typical Sunday at site involves doing washing for the week, a bit of cleaning, a lot of cooking, too many TV shows, and very little contact with anyone besides the kids. Sunday is my day for chilling, preparing for the week, and catching up with folks back home. I rarely make proper plans.

Two weeks ago, I had a very unusual Sunday. My friend Allie was visiting from Weenen, a rural township three-taxi rides away from Ezakheni. I secured a lift to Estcourt for her, so she could get direct transport back to Weenen. My supervisor had to attend a family function in Estcourt, and was happy to help Allie (aka Ayanda) get home.

That was the plan, anyway.

While securing this list, we were both invited to attend a family function in Estcourt. Partly out of obligation, and partly out of genuine interest, we accepted. The new plan was for us to leave for Estcourt after Baba Mazibuko finished church in Ladysmith at 11am. Allie would be at the event until 2:30, when she’d make her way to her taxi.

Plan B didn’t go exactly as planned. 

We arrived to Estcourt a bit late, where it became clear that Allie would have to stay for the main events—food and the thanking of the ancestors—which were several hours off. Luckily, Nelly (my supervisor’s wife), was a lovely host and made us feel at home right away. We met lots of friendly people and family members as they filtered past out seats on the couch, watched nearly all of J. Cole’s Top 20 Hip-Hop Videos on MTV Base, and drank cider from can (usually taboo for women), and ate delicious food.

To adapt this traditional Zulu event for a middle-class urban environment, the men all say in the garage, which represented the animal corral. In rural communities, only men are allowed near or inside of the corral. At Nelly’s home, the guys came and went, bring platters of meat and packs of beer into the garage. They were all very nice and welcoming, but didn’t hang out in the house. We were all there for uSolo, who recently got a new job. To thank the ancestors for his good luck, the family slaughtered a goat. This is very typical for families who experience good luck (jobs, births, etc.) or who want to appease the ancestors after particularly bad luck (poor health, no work, being cursed with bad luck, etc.). The maidens (young and unmarried women), the married women, and the men all sat in different sections of the house. Allie and I should have sat in a bedroom with the maidens (all women in their teens and 20s), but were instead ushered to the dining room table to eat alone. It was pretty funny. We were served first, but had to watch as everyone continued to dish out the meal around us. “Should we start eating?” “Is it more rude to wait or start to eat?” As usual, navigating a cultural event, no matter how laid back, is always a mix of hilarious and a touch awkward. Out momentary uncertainty was just that, momentary. Nelly’s food was delicious and Allie’s company was great.

One of the sober guys, Siphiso, gave Allie a lift to town to catch her taxi. When I got back to the house, the married women invited me to take part in thanking the ancestors. We listed the platters of goat meat into the air and repeated words of thanks in isiZulu. It was simple and nice. Ceremony over; ancestors thanked.

After the meal the maidens joined me in front of the TV for a painfully bad Nigerian movie, more hard ciders, and gossip. It was really difficult to figure out who was a member of the family, who was a cousin, a friend or a neighbor, but it mattered less as the afternoon evening wore on. Nelly and Baba Mazibuko have a very relaxed and pleasant home.  People and family caught up and enjoyed themselves. Kids wandered around, the only ones truly able to mingle. While it is still very strange for me to spend entire functions separated from the men, I had a really good time getting to know Nelly’s daughter, her friend, and Sne, the baby mama of one of the brother-cousin’s. Yes, it’s that confusing!

Baba Mazibuko and I left at around 8pm with Siphiso (Nelly’s son and our trusty driver) and Nomfundo (Nelly’s adopted daughter), both of whom now live and work in Ladysmith. It was late by the time we dropped them off at their Auntie’s house in Ladysmith and made it back to Ezakheni. I accomplished none of my usual Sunday tasks, but went to bed tired but happy. 

It was a good, unexpected Sunday.