It was a bit awkward at first. Our in-town guide, Tambi, was a bit shy so we were confused by our lack of information (some people spoke broken English but mostly Zulu was used). It made for a very authentic experience and as we kept an open mind, we became more comfortable and able to interact.
It seemed the family consisted of a man and woman elder, two adult daughters, three teenaged to adult sons and four 6 to 10-year-old girls who were possibly cousins and sisters.
The first activity was walking down to the river. It quickly became apparent who we would be spending our time with as all the men stayed behind. Tambi had brought us there to tell the story of a traditional marriage proposal. It was quite an extensive process and took place at the river as it was the main gathering place. After a courtship of figuring who has how many cattle and whether the fine lady is a virgin (you pay more), a proposal is put forth with a bracelet made from grass reeds that are found next to the river.
Tambi showed us how to make them and we weaved as we walked up to the village healer's home. We arrived at a smokey rondavel where a old woman with kind eyes and a warm smile sat waiting and ready to help ill and troubled village people. Tambi explained her role in the community and also had Todd attempt to speak Zulu, which everyone found hilarious.
We walked back to the home and had a very tasty lunch of cabbage, butternut squash, spinach and tomato over corn mash. We ate with our hands because the work on your hands brings flavor to the food. Though a beautiful sentiment, it's actually kind of gross when you think about it.
After lunch and TV time, Petros (our driver) came to take us to a wedding across the village. Oh wow, what to expect? I've never crashed a wedding before let alone a Zulu one. We pulled up to a full-on party. There were flavorful scents in the air, women dressed to the nines and sloppy drunk men everywhere.
We were a bit unsure whether we were welcome or not. Partly because most people don't show up to a wedding uninvited in our culture, but mostly because we were isolated to the area around the car at first. We were brought food, soda and beer but didn't join the party. Alfred (our other guide) later told us that it's customary to put visitors in a separate room and slowly introduce them to the party so I suppose that's what was happening. It took just one guy coming over to talk soccer and soon we were surrounded by people waving and wanting to shake our hands. One guy cornered me and asked for cigarettes, then money and when I refused both he told me, "I love you."
We got to go in and watch the "modern" ceremony that was suprisingly between a 90-year old woman and her grandson. I guess the woman had never had her ring exchange with her husband and now that they finally could, he had already passed. How sad. After a half hour of the unofficial MC preaching and dancing, our party was ready to go. Leaving was a challenge. All 70 or so people there wanted a handshake or hug. It was madness and it was wonderful.
Our next stop was a shebeen, or unlicensed bar. Man it was shady haha. A guy behind a barred window gave us beers and Tambi blasted the juke box. I started dancing and all the little girls (with beer in the bellies as well) copied everything I did. My own little backup dancers!
We headed back to the family home for dinner and to catch the Brazil v. Ivory Coast game (on a dinky 10" TV). During the 90 minutes, almost all of the family had fallen asleep on one of the two beds or on the floor of the rondavel. What an incredible day! It was so special to be able to experience a different culture in such an intimate way.
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