King Somhlolo ruled the Swazi tribes in the mid 1880s. One night he had a dream that foretold the coming of a people who would look different from what he knew all people to look like- they would be people with hair like zebras and skin like sea foam. In his dream, the different kind of people would come to him and offer him, in one hand, something made out of what looked like banana leaves that would flip on a fixed point on their broad sides, and in the other hand they would offer shiny disks. God asked Somhlolo to choose one of the two things. When the day came, he knew he had to choose the leaves. This dream was shared among the Swazi people and recorded in memory as the southern Africans had no written language. King Somhlolo died and behind him rose a generation who wanted to seek out these people with the sea foam faces so they sent a scouting party south into South Africa where they indeed found people who had hair with the texture of zebras and with faces as white as foam, Europeans who were establishing relationships, missions, and trade partnerships with the tribes of the south. And as it was in the dream, the Europeans offered the people two things- in the one hand they held out a book- the Bible. In the other hand were metallic disks- money. They did choose the Bible. Or at least, this is how the story was told to us over dinner at a "Braai" (barbecue) last week.
Swaziland remains a country that proudly calls itself a Christian nation to this day and the people are open and eager to speak of theology and spiritual things. They are also very peaceful. One Swazi told me proudly that when Shaka Zulu's military campaigns went into Swaziland in order to conquer and take control of the Swazi clans, the Swazi hid in caves. Truly, we have never feared for our lives here. On the contrary, in the more remote areas, children think our skin is fascinating and will stare or wave at us like celebrities. (One little boy walked up to Noemie at a store, asking her why her skin was white. She was very amused.) Despite the peacefulness here, the proximity to the more urban and volatile South African cities have earned this post a "critical" crime rating and so we have a guard posted around the clock at our front gate. One of our guards' names is Loveagape.(Love + Agape)
People's names here mean things. Usually, the names are not in English but in the Swazi language, SiSwati. And the meanings are usually whole sentences, and they have shortened versions for us slow-brained Americans who can't process the sounds. One lady at church, her name is Vousile. Her name means 'We are happy'. She has a son whose name is Mncobi, whose name means 'victory'. How would you say this name? Begin with your mouth in an M position and vocalize just enough to begin the Mm sound but before you get into it, switch to a sound that you might make if trying to get peanut butter off of the roof of your mouth with a relaxed tongue. The rest rhymes with Toby. These names are EASY compared to most we encounter. We have learned a few SiSwati words like Sawubona (hello) and Siabonga (thank you). Thankfully, we don't really need them. Most people speak a thickly accented English. I feel like I’m always playing Mad Gab. Today I was invited to a bescanzawak. I said it three times to myself before I got it. Welcome to my new reality.
This is the view from my dining table. Most days, lunch is peanut butter and jelly. It’s like luxury and deprivation at the same time.
Our house has incredible views- we are nestled in between bed & breakfast houses and tourist resorts if that gives you any idea. On the other side of the ridge behind our house is the Mlilwane wildlife preserve with zebras and a dozen kinds of bushbuck and wildebeest.
The climate is like Miami but with much less humidity. We have papaya and orange trees and banana and peach trees and monkeys that sneak into our peach trees when no one is looking and make a mess. I don't have any pictures of this because whenever Noemie sees the monkeys she bolts out the door screaming like a banshee. She was really looking forward to the peaches but I don't think there are any left. It is spring in Swaziland. Pool is too cold. Sun is too hot. The air is full of smoke from nearby fires of farmers getting rid of dead grass. We don't get out too much - I can’t drive stick shift and right side driving is really confusing. But when I get used to things I might attempt going to the craft market that’s not too far away. If the car we bought will ever start. The area is not very developed which is glorious to me- dark skies at night, dirt roads, not so much cheap Chinese goods that make for the garbage ethic of lifestyles that dispose things easily and produce a lot of non-biodegradable waste. (Is garbage ethic a thing? I may have made that up.) I love the dirt road that goes to my house! It will be paved soon. The downside is that our internet download speed is a whopping 1 Mbps... on the days that we have it. It's a lot like dial-up in the early 90s. During a hurricane. We did encounter another unexpected life-threatening problem... when you're going down the unlit highway at 120 km per hour, you can't see the cattle that have wandered onto the road until you're about to plow through it. And Africa does not make small cows!
The people here are very friendly and cheerful. Our patrol always greets us with a smile and asks, “How is it?” Which means how are you? And he instinctively answers "aym okeeey" even if I don't ask him in return. Our sponsors (Zimbabweans) have done a fantastic job orienting us and Noemie has a new close friend in their daughter. We arrived the week before the biggest cultural event of the annual calendar- the Reed Dance.
To Gigi's dismay, I have already seen the king and she has not. That is the face of a man that has just been handed 90,000 reeds by 90,000 Swazi maidens.
My sponsor not only accompanied me to the rehearsal, but she also acquainted me with the rules: women may not appear in pants or shorts in the presence of the king - skirts only. Women must also have their heads covered and may not carry an umbrella. Luckily, it was not raining. This is the weekend that the king, traditionally, picks a new wife to add to his collection. While the decision is made prior to the show, the young women come from all over Swaziland, as well as neighboring South Africa and Botswana for this celebration of traditional women culture, and a seemingly endless, slow-motion parade of passionate, rhythmic shuffling.
We have been able to make friends here besides our sponsor family. We've been to two decent churches (and a 3rd one that was crazy-town) where we've made connections. We met a family at a restaurant a few nights ago that homeschools and she connected us to a homeschool community that is 40 families strong. At this moment, my oldest child, who turns 13 this weekend (eek!) is at an event with the homeschool teen group- karaoke at the Korean restaurant.
So maybe you're like me and saying, "After 5 weeks in Africa, that's all you've done?"
To which I say, no. Look at this spider. It's a rain spider. It's the size of a softball. Danny removed it in the traditional Swazi way, which is to beat the life out of it with a broom.
Also, we have gotten 5 weeks of school out of the way and I'm pretty proud of that considering we have no piano, no cello, virtually no internet, no library, a car that won't start, and most of our belongings are on their way to Antwerp....WHY ANTWERP?! And we did get our game parks card so that soon and very soon we are going to have much bigger adventures!
P.S. As for the "brescanzawak", I've never participated in a
breast cancer walk, but it sounds like fun!
