Culture and Religion, The Mysteriousness of South Africa

8/18/08
Ubuntu – The Identity of South Africa

Literally translated, Ubuntu means, “I am because you are.” Loosely decoded, it means that humanity is connected by the essence of treating everyone as extended family. This Ubuntu identity that has linked villages and united families is a traditional concept that is blurred outside transparent abstract situations. While communal celebrations such as weddings and tombstone unveilings bring neighbors and community members together, jobs, exorbitant unemployment rates, and money separate individuals. Crime runs rampant and alcoholism blazes through towns and villages further separating people and distorting the ideology of Ubuntu.

When it is convenient, everyone comes together under the umbrella of Ubuntu. However, when money enters the equation, everyone scatters and it becomes “every man for himself.” This “independence” from one another is further compounded by the dependence of blacks on whites. Throughout history, South Africa has received external aid from foreigners, beginning in 1652 with the Dutch East India Trading Company that set up Capetown (“The Cape of Good Hope”) as a refilling station for the merchants and traders that rounded the southern tip of Africa en route to Asia. The schools that were set up and the assistance that was offered, left behind traces of dependence. In time, this support was exacerbated and blacks began to grow reliant. Fast forwarding into the present, an external locus of control has been cultured and indoctrinated in the foundational roots of society. Blacks in the rural areas expect to be saved. They look to others for answer and resources as if incapable of instituting change, utilizing readily available resources and discovering solutions for themselves. South Africa finds itself wobbling precariously on the edge as it seeks its own identity.

8/24/08
Tribal beliefs and myths

Three days ago, I awoke to a ghastly sight. Drinking my morning instant, chicory-blend cup of java, I proceeded to stroll about the cement slab behind my host family’s house and paced back and forth near the chicken coup with my eyes lazily scanning the horizon. Much to my horror, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a limp dead corpse of a three month old baby chick with a severed head and stiff legs pointed upwards towards the sky. From its liquefied head, poured a mass of fluids which the other six chicks eagerly fed on. Deeply disturbed by this image, I spent great lengths of energy to wipe it clean from my memory. However, the following day, a shocking horror re-visited the Sathegke household. With a cup of coffee in hand, I cautiously peered over the edge of the rusty ramshackle scrap metal coup and gasped in despair and nearly released a high pitch scream that was replaced by a hollow whimper due to the lump in my throat. In the far ends of the structure lay two lifeless carcasses. In one corner laid a baby chick with its belly sliced open carelessly, and its entrails sprawled about the dusty sand floor. In the opposite corner another chick was gruesomely mutilated with gashes and wounds about its remains.

Immediately, I hurriedly reported the crime scene to my host mom who began formulating the worst case scenarios in her mind. Her eyes widened intensely. She reached out for the top of my head with an outstretched hand, gently pushing my eyes downward towards the ground. Her eyes darted this way and that as she scanned the horizon for what seemed like incoming artillery fire. I assumed that the situation was over after nearly a minute of dead silence, and I proceeded to pack my belongings in my rucksack and continued down the narrow dirt path to begin my day.

Much to my surprise, these horrific events had spurred a series of incredulous thoughts and conspiracy theories upon returning home late in the evening. My host father was alarmed at the recent atrocities and urged me to not go outside after dark. Furthermore, he warned me that if I heard noises at night and dogs barking, I mustn’t look out the window, or I will be confronted by evils that are not of this world. He alluded to the fact that if I spot this evil creature that is tormenting the life stock, I will be damned to another realm. He pleaded that the village was not safe, and that this was only the beginning. At that, he repented. He gathered the remaining four chicks into a small pail, who released a series of shrieking peeps at varying pitches, as he tied the legs of the mother hen to a post and separated her from the string of high pitch noises.

Various denominations of religions are practiced in the tribal villages. Tribal medicine is actively rehearsed and carried out. Theories are often created to replace a lack of information and education. Incompatible information finds its way into the minds of the masses and heaps of homes. I may not be convinced about this evil being that is lurking out there, but my eyebrow is certainly raised. What caused this catastrophic slaughtering?