Status Report

The public school year is almost at and end, and the university final exam season is in its last week.  My travel schedule is nearly complete, though I still have to travel south on the Garden Route toward the Indian Ocean, make a day trip to Lesotho, and spend one last time in Johannesburg.  With Dennis' help, video and photo sessions will be finished in early December, leaving me mostly to ponder the entire collection of videos, photos, audio recordings, transcribed songs, field notes and transcribed interviews.  Graduate student Meaghan Dunham worked on song and interview transcriptions during her time here, using simple I-Movie editing to separate songs on video and Finale software.  

ASU Grad students Meaghan and Lee with UFS student and Musicon Teacher Tsolofelo

National choral competitions are coming up soon, offering me one final opportunity to record folk songs in languages with which I have had little interaction so far.  There are 11 official languages in this nation, and I've been successfully collecting songs and recording choirs singing in 9 of those languages so far.  The languages of Ndbele and Swati are still at large, and the reason is that most Ndbele speakers don't actually live in South Africa, except on the borders near Zimbabwe and Swati is a language from the neighboring nation of Swaziland, where I have not traveled.  Both of these languages are considered "Nguni" languages, meaning that their origins are the same as the Zulu and Xhosa.  I have utilized the services of several directors, who can speak English as well as several other languages, so my songs can be correctly translated and my research notes checked for accuracy.

Zionist Church in the Eastern Cape - Xhosa church members  - Sunday morning arrival

Inside the Zionist Church - Music Underway Immediately

I have spent some time in the past week pouring over dissertations, articles, books, and unpublished writings on the topic of freedom songs, folkloric songs and the development of choral music throughout the 20th century.  My sources need to be converted to electronic documents for further analysis, which requires conversion of paper to pdf files, not always the easiest task to accomplish.  Fortunately, I have had the resources of the most magical copy machine in the Music Department at the University of the Free State, as well as the graduate assistant Lee Roueche, to assist me in completing the conversion of all files.  Lee has archivist skills, which means she can read deep into library data bases to determine the availability and feasibility of accessing materials.  She has good investigative skills too, so when I hit a wall, I sometimes just ask her a question and she comes back to me an hour later, a day later, or a week later (whatever it takes) with an answer.

Evening drive to Grahamstown, Eastern Cape from Bloemfontein, Free State

I have spent hours listening to choirs sing, and then listening to recordings of those same choirs, some of which I did myself and some which I paid others to record.  Every room, and every township, and every choir, and every director is so different, that each experience has been new and challenging.  Sometimes opportunities creep up when I least expect it, and I have benefited greatly from having photographers traipse around with me on those occasions.  Other times, disappointing results follow long waits and exhausting or expensive travel.  But it is all worth it in the bigger picture sense that I have seen and heard singers and songs from the hearts of so many different communities and from so many viewpoints that I understand singing in a way I did not before.  People sing for many complex reasons and for no reason at all.  Sometimes when I am really trying to understand songs and singers, it turns out that people do things because they are fun or because they always do these things every Tuesday at 6:00 p.m. or because without the music, they - like me  - would be lost souls.

Suzi listening at the Music Library of Rhodes University

So here's a fun saying that I have learned.  One says it when one has given instructions or explained how to accomplish something.  The expression is "....and Bob's your Uncle."  I think it may come from the British, and find it very funny.  There is no "Bob"  - it just means that everything has been explained, everything is easy as pie, and there's no need to further analyze anything.  So, all I have to do now is see the graduate students safely to their flights on Monday, pick up my husband on Wednesday, book the hotel on the Garden Route for the following week, attend the national choral competitions on the weekend, meet some Ndebele and Swati musicians there, clean out my office, schedule the final session in Johannesburg, do it, and fly home...........and BOB's MY UNCLE!  

Moving Around

Dinakangwedi Choir of St. Mark's Catholic Church, Bloemfontein

The songs are starting to sound very familiar, as I have visited some of the same choirs, though not always in the same location.  As they move around to compete and participate in festivals, I also try to cross paths with them as I’m moving around to meet other musicians and scholars.  Sometimes, I’m working on an “ice-breaking” meeting with a director, while that same day, bringing the “goodbye and thanks” cake to a choir who may happen to be in the same general area.  My recent travels to Johannesburg were kept short, for reasons of practicality and therefore in one day, I interviewed a director, held a directors thank-you meeting, audio-recorded some sectional rehearsals for clarification of voice parts and attended a concert in the evening, where The University of Johannesburg Kingsway  choir held a short video session just prior to the concert for purposes of my research. 

The UJ Kingsway Campus Choir with African Music Specialist Sidumo Jacobs

Moving quickly around Johannesburg has become my modus operandi, due to the expenses of getting to Johannesburg, getting transportation in Johannesburg, staying overnight in Johannesburg and paying for professional services such as videographers and sometimes facility fees.  I love the UJ Kingsway Campus choir for the excellent sound and discipline, but I also love that they hold two rehearsals per week, with two directors who specialize in composed and folkloric songs respectively.   I usually take a day or so upon my return to level out, but in doing so this time, I absent-mindedly missed an appointment to visit a local school where a marimba ensemble was awaiting me.

Suzi with Renette Bower, UJ Kingsway Choirmaster

So, I can say that I am ready for a break.  The semester is over and I won’t be teaching any more classes, though I will be moderating 72 practical exams for three music education classes.  In addition to an instructor giving a practical exam, the South African university system requires a moderator to be present for practical exams (demonstrations, micro-teaching lessons, presentations, lab experiments, etc.) who verifies the activities and provides an external pair of eyes on the whole process. 

Speaking of students,  grad research assistants Meaghan and Lee have begun the process of integration into South African culture.  They have made friends quickly and mastered the art of getting around without a car quite well.  Their research is going well in both the public history and music areas.  I could not ask for better company or better research assistants.  I think that ASU can be very proud of their accomplishments as researchers, service learning interns and ambassadors for our university.  Meaghan has sung in two school performances and taught several classes in the past three weeks and Lee has interviewed elderly residents of the first township established in this area and photo -  documented many of our events.  Both students have uncovered deeper complexities about South African life than tourists and television viewers might see.  They are getting a well-deserved reward this weekend as they set out on their Safari in the Kruger National Park. 

Being a choir gyspy has continued to educate me on the nuances of musical traditions that we carry with us as we cross cultural and geographical boundaries.  I was in the township of Galeshewe, Kimberley, in 2001 as part of a teaching team called “The Kimberley Project” funded at that time out of the Eastman School of Music and Temple University.  Songs that I leaned in Galeshewe were performed with a different type of presentation flair in Johannesburg, and in some cases, varied texts as well.  Choirs that win in the indigenous folkloric categories of choral competitions may also be choirs who sing in the western art tradition with tempered scale degrees, balanced tone production and European expressive customs equally well.  But I’m starting to see some things that always look Sotho to me, or that always remind me of certain Zulu sounds or moves.

Suzi and Hannes getting the Video details organized

The most completely different experience of this past week was the Afrikaans folk music played and sung by members of a club of  “players” who gather at Sentraal Primary School each week.  Like the folk dancing club led by Mrs. Irene Broyles of Somerset, Kentucky where I grew up, this club gathers and sings weekly, and occasionally invites members of other clubs.  Their tradition is nearly one hundred years old and has ties to Swedish folk dancing and games.  So the Danish dances and singing games I learned in Denmark and in Berea, Kentucky have finally had some relevance in my travels here.  The dances are called games and the dancers/singers say that they are playing, not dancing.  Though the piano and other instruments play, each game is also sung with words.  This week I played the guitar along with the pianist - - not my forte, exactly, but it got me in the band and into the music.

My favorite singing game is called “Sukerboisse” – which means “Sugar Bush” or “Suga Bush” – referring in one sense to an indigenous shrub, but the song was picked up by some well known South Africans and Americans in the 1950s – among them Doris Day, who recorded the song on an album.  The music teachers and players here say that it comes from the Anglo-Boer war days, as do many of the documented Afrikaaner folk songs.  The games, however, do not.  It seems that Afrikaaner

At the end of the evening, (but before pudding if there is any), there is a sing-a-long, so you know I love this part.  Everyone links arms and rocks back and forth, one foot slightly forward, to keep the rhythm, while they sing old folk songs.  Like the black folkloric traditions, the songs include stories about long lost love, living far away, working hard, and protesting the powers that be.  I plan to bring back a couple of the games I can share at Christmas Country Dance School this year in Berea.

Just for fun, here's a teaser for the next blog - yep, that's Elene again in the photo, and this time she is kicking up her heels at the wedding of a cousin in the beautiful farm country of the Eastern Cape.  I'll describe the wedding in a sentence or two, but the reception deserves its own blog discussion, complete with new terminology and the meaning of fetching the baboon from behind the mountain!

Elene and her dance partner Aubrey at a family wedding

Lee and Meaghan are Here!

At the University of the Free State, I prep for classes and study field notes in an office in a round building known as the Odieon.  We are quite busy there, as this is the end of the year, and the last term brings the dreaded exams in a couple of weeks.  So there is music in the practice rooms, and rehearsals for concerts and recitals and seminars and final lectures at all levels. 

UFS Graduate Music Seminar

In addition to those responsibilities I have for guest lecturing, I have developed some new skills since I came to South Africa.


I can read Facebook messages that are written 21st century text –lingo mixed with Zulu abbreviations.  I can dance the Sokkie, as long as the students keep paying my dance partner.  I can drive in the city on the left side of the road as long as the GPS is properly programmed.  I can speak English with Afrikaans and Xhosa and Sotho words sprinkled in well enough to greet most of my students and musician friends, though one wonders if it is intelligible.

I can walk into the music library and appreciate my celebrity status on the bulletin board.  The librarian Annette Bester has welcomed me in yet another way, with a display, showing my photo and resume and some photos of ASU and our Belk Library in Boone.  I can sing the Anchor Yeast song backwards and forwards.  This is because the Dinakangwedi choir at St. Mark’s church in Bloemanda was one of four finalist choirs for a commercial song context, and the voting takes place on Saturday afternoons after the commercials air on television channel SABC 1. They rehearsed daily during the week leading up to the taping, and then again several times on the day of the video shoot.  This small room of the church was transformed into television set and the singers stoically stood in place for hours being moved up and down on benches for best framing under hot lighting as they waited for instructions.   If you are reading this and want to cast a vote for St. Mark’s, both the men and women wear white with black slacks, against a purple backdrop.

Dinakangwedi Choir - Meaghan left front, Suzi and Mr. Bonisile Gcisa on far right

The most interesting component to the Anchor Yeast music was the accompaniment instrument, which was a 10 gallon metal paint container with hardware welded on the side that allowed a wire to be strung with slugs (washers).  The player used large, ribbed metal sticks and a piece of rubber stretched over the container made a great bass drum sound, then the wire with washers gave an interesting higher timbre when struck by the big sticks. 

Percussion Instrument used for accompanying choir

The movement of the choir and the rhythm of the drum was predictably impossible to predict.  When you first listen to a choir sing, you think you know where to clap and sway, but then you realize how off you are when they begin their rhythmic accompaniment.  Dr. Tracey, (the South African ethnomusicologist) told me to watch out for that, and he was right. 

Another choir at St. Rose Catholic Church was rehearsing in Bochabela Township, only a few minutes away from the excitement of the video taping.  These singers, though smaller in number, were hospitable in sharing some folkloric tunes and information about the songs in seSotho and seTswana with my students and myself.  Bonisile served as the cultural informant and translator, a role he plays quite well and seems to enjoy.  Coming from a family of language educators, he says he is obligated to express himself articulately and accurately, so lucky me, since I require clarity above all else for our discussions and his translations. 

Bonisile and Lee working in the Odieon

Having Lee and Meaghan here from Appalachian State University has been a real treat, a great relief and a fun time.  Lee is a historian who knows her way around archival resources, such as library databases and shevis completing a dual Master’s in Public History and African Studies from ASU.  Meaghan has just begun her Master’s studies in General Music and she brings the experience of teaching elementary children, as well as an organized mind and a lovely soprano voice.  Both of them have the sense of humor one would need to work with me, and both of them are inquisitive and sensitive to their unfamiliar surroundings.  This means that I can add to my list of things I can do – I can relax and enjoy my work, since they are taking notes, photos and artifacts while I talk and sing with people.  God bless them both!

Spring Break is Over

Marie-Claire and Elene

Elene’s Belgian friend Marie-Claire set up a base camp for us in Tzaneen, a small town in Venda area of Limpopo.  Tzaneen is a phenomenon of nature -  and has tropical mountain beauty, much like the mountains of central Puerto Rico - with coffee, bananas and relaxing humid air. The difference is that this tropical paradise sits in the middle of the driest water-deprived part of inhabited South Africa.  Marie-Claire and her family have property here, discovered during some philanthropic traveling with their Beligium-sponsored South African orchestral musicians.  You know it was rough going, as it always is in the field.  For example, we had to make do with cappuccino, no soymilk and only refined sugar, no splenda for sweetner.  We had to set the computer facing a certain direction to find web sites that would provide relevant phone numbers and our cell phones and blackberries had to serve as our assistants, since only so many people can travel in one small car.  OK, I’m kidding –Marie-Claire’s estate is luxurious, and I laughed at the lavish provisions she had waiting for us.  It was truly fun to pretend to be rich adventurers for a couple of hours.

Base Camp at our Tanzeen Outpost

Finding our way around this region that is part  wilderness, part - small township, and part-mountain range was not too difficult between our maps and GPS, but finding our way to some musicians willing to talk with us was quite interesting.  Marie-Claire had begun before our arrival by calling friends and asking them who knew some Venda singers.  From that point of contact, Elene and I retraced some of her phone numbers and one of Elene’s calls to a little village called Watervaal turned out to be a gold mine.  The legal secretary for an attorney who was on the list because his wife was a music teacher offered to take us straight to the home of her sister and into her neighborhood, where singers and dancers awaited our brief visit, and demonstrated Venda dancing, gospel music, Shangaan singing and dancing, children’s songs and cultural items.  On the 8-hour drive back to Bloemfontein, we marveled at the instant hospitality and the willingness to share songs with us - - complete strangers who dress and speak like aliens!  Elene never ceases to amaze me and when she changed the front tire of the car in her BARE FEET in the gravel parking lot of the guest lodge I have to say she rose to a new level of respect on my scale of really rocking cool. 

Elder Venda Women Singing Greetings

Turns out that the Shangaan (Tsonga) people are aplenty in this region, having emigrated from Mozambique and Zimbabwe  - both only a few kilometers away.  Scholars have said that the Shangaan people have gotten used to blending into neighboring cultures, so that they can work and live peacefully and yet they treasure their own heritage.  We certainly saw evidence of that juxtaposition of living among Venda, but showing pride in Shangaan music that day.  The women in the photo and other musicians sang about the slow process of fetching water, being rich (because of having grandchildren) and having foreign visitors.

Sometimes, people sing about my being there, when I show up.  One choir sang "I hope you will be giving us money now..." When I departed Zululand, my choir sang "I went to Zululand and saw so many wonderful sights and sounds...." One group of Xhosa children wishing us goodbye in Barkly East sang "we are on this earth such a short time and we praise God that we have had some time with you...."

It reminds me of an old story that anthropologists pass around, about the young American scholar who eagerly sat upon a fence post to observe the music making by African American workers back in the early 20th century deep south.  The song he transcribed basically went something like this:  "There's that white guy sitting on a fence, wasting his time and watching us work..." 

Sokkie Dancing UFS Students

My teaching began at to  Afrikaans students at the University of the Free State - who listened to my opening lecture about openness to unfamiliar musics and listening for music that is not necessarily your “own”.  Though I thought I was not getting through to them at all when they began all speaking in Afrikaans and leaving me out of the conversation, one brave soul finally explained to me that there was a suggestion on the floor. When I asked what was the suggestion, she told me we ought to go together, as a class, to where they like to hear music.  So we did. 

We went to a place where Afrikaans music pounded through the sound system and the sokkie dance is a way of life.  This partner style of dancing is a little like what used to be called shagging in the U.S., but this generation and these students know that term to mean something else, thanks to Austin Powers.

Suzi learning Sokkie

Class Research Trip

At the end of the week, I began delving into local township music with a visit to the St. Mark Catholic Church youth choir, where I am learning some beautiful old Xhosa and Sotho songs.   My next blog is going to include some of the events already happening as a result of the new Choir and my competent cultural informant and culture bearer Mr. Bonisile Gcisa.  I cannot pronounce his last name yet, because of the Xhosa click that is sounded for the "gc"letters (different from the Zulu clicks I know). Also, I've been derailed temporarily by an ear malady that has me walking sideways all weekend and I can't go back to choir practice until I can stand and walk up straight again.  Vertigo is no longer just a word in books for me.  Highly advanced South African medications are all lined up here in front of me, so don't despair dear blog followers, I'll drink them (as they say here) and be back soon!

Sorry, Photos Won't Load - Gotta read words

Now that I’m gone from KwaZulu-Natal, I’m suddenly news.  I neglected my phone for several hours as Dennis and I relaxed in the Durban breeze with a little shopping and sightseeing.  When I turned it on again, a journalist from the Saturday Independent had been frantically trying to reach me before leaving so that she could have an exclusive story about Suzi the American!

We flew with our extremely excessive baggage from Durban to Bloemfontein, where Elene Cloete met us at the airport with laughter and hugs.  Elene is now an old friend who visited us last year during her study trip to the U.S. and I call her my African sister.  Her position at the University of the Free State fit conveniently into my Fulbright proposal, so we will be working together once again, as her university students will be my students and she will supervise the service learning internship of my upcoming graduate research assistant Meaghan Dunham.  There will be two graduate students from Appalachian State University coming to Bloemfontein in October to serve as research assistants and to undergo internships in the Free State. 

The province of the Free State is quite different from KwaZulu-Natal, but the hospitality is every bit as warm.  I was welcomed at a tea by the Music Faculty on Thursday morning and introduced to my new colleagues and shown to my temporary office.  That same evening, Dennis and I were treated to the Free State Orchestra performance of Handel and Schumann music.  All day, everyone spoke quite humbly about this “little orchestra” so I went expecting something like the band in the movie The Music Man. (you know, “76 Trombones” and “Marian the Librarian”).  Ha!  This was a small orchestra, but packed a powerful performance.  The classical repertoire was a contrast to the folk songs I have been enjoying and studying, but the audience was definitely African.  That means that after a particularly well-executed piece has finished, there are other timbres of appreciation besides just applause. 

I attended a graduate seminar where Matilde Wium, Musicology lecturer presented a paper she had given at a conference themed around the idea of hegemony.  I was interested that an entire conference would be devoted to the theme – as it is a major theme in the article that two co-authors and I have just finished revising for an international journal.  (Our article focuses on cultural hegemony we find in Music Education and a teaching approach called culturally responsive teaching that could address the lack of balance in our university curricula for Music Education.)
Friday, we drove to the Cloete farm called Waterval in the Eastern Cape town of Barkly East.  Elene’s parents hosted us for the weekend, and provided us with a mini-briefing that included a history lesson for Dennis, Afrikaans language tutoring for me and traditional Afrikaans meals for all of us.  Dennis rode in a tandem gyrocopter about 400 meters above the earth, which at that location is a little over 5,000 feet above sea level.  As I'm returning to work at UFS, I  have a different challenge with languages than I had in Zululand.  Afrikaans, seSotho and seTswana are three new languages that represent my students and colleagues at the University of the Free State, so saying “hello” or “thank you” gets slightly more complicated.  Fortunately, we all have tea every day at 11:00 a.m. so there is some basis for communication through general slurping and nodding and chit-chatting about the day.

As if we weren’t already culturally confused, my Music Department Chairpersons Mr./Dr. and Mrs./Dr. Viljoen (husband and wife) took Dennis and me out to a Chinese restaurant, where the owner/cook Frankie is also a Chinese musician working in my building as community partner.  His food was unbelievable and nothing like I have ever tasted.  He says it’s not American - Chinese, but Chinese – Chinese, and that’s all the difference.  He directs the Chinese orchestra in Bloemfontein, and most of the players take private lessons from Frankie.  So he teaches lessons from 7:30 a.m. – 10:30 a.m. then runs down to the restaurant to cook lunch, then comes back to teach all afternoon – then back to the restaurant for dinner.  Whew!

I Will Always Love You

Our final days in KwaZulu-Natal included a day safari, rehearsals for a final concert, meetings and interviews with informants, photo sessions, video shoots and packing (yikes - that one nearly gave me a melt-down) and two Durban excursions.  After teaching my final class, I met with group leaders.

There are 18 small groups of 10/11 students each - totaling 189 students in my Arts and Culture class.  I taught in a large lecture hall part of the time, and took half the class at a time outside so that we could experience singing games, peer coaching techniques and methods for assessment of children's music learning.  The absence of internet communication, power points, handouts, and a much needed microphone made the teaching situation challenging for me...but more importantly, it showed me how challenging it is for future teachers to learn in crowded university classes without high-tech study aids and individual attention.  There is a class rep - Mr. Dlamini, who served as a communicator for me and would sometimes address the students to further explain my instructions or to divide them into groups for meetings and Q&A sessions.  The regular instructor observed my teaching and commented on my instructional style at a Farewell Programme (notice the two m's and e at the end) in my honor Monday night.  She said that my style of teaching students by actually having them sing children's songs and play children's music was new to her.

Farewell Programme at the Arts and Culture Centre

 The farewell programme was hosted by by the UniZul Choral Society and the International Linkages Director Gugu Gule.  It was a formally delivered program, complete with program directors, gift presentation, speeches and a reception at the end.  The choir sang some of my favorites as I had requested, and I directed them in an African American spiritual as well as one last rendering of the national anthem.  Dolly Parton most certainly knew what she was talking about when she wrote:

 “…so I’ll go, but I know I will think of you each step of the way.  I will always love you.”

When it was time for me to speak, I could hardly compose an appropriate few sentences of thanks and farewells, so I cut my thank yous short and did sing I Will Always Love You at the piano.  I knew that some of those present knew the song, but I was very surprised that it was such a popular song among the group.  I realized that all this time I was studying Zulu culture and learning their music and ways of thinking, many of them were studying me and learning my way of thinking.  My colleagues and students shared what they had learned from me, and much of it surprised me.  Some spoke of my willingness to learn the language, and one colleague said she learned by watching me engage my students with experiences rather than lectures.  As a teacher I cannot imagine any better gift those testimonies to my belonging in their musical learning community.

Shophi and Suzi

The first of the Durban excursions included an interview with a beautiful traditional musician named Shophi Ngidi, a forum presentation at the University of KwaZulu-Natal, and then dinner and home hospitality at the home of our new friends Herman and Gordon.  In between all of it, we managed to eat lunch on the 32nd floor-rotating restaurant called Roma’s where the view of Durban was magnificent – all 360 degrees of it.  UKZN has a well-established Ethnomusicology department, and the forum attendees asked many questions and suggested contacts and directions for my continuing research into Freedom songs and folkloric music. 

The second trip was a slower paced one, because on Tuesday September 14, we packed all of our things and left my home of the past three months in the morning, then attended a reception for the visiting American Ambassador to South Africa in the afternoon.  The day began in tears for me, because I felt torn apart after having spent three months assimilating into the rural community surrounding the University of Zululand. 

The Mills with Ambassador Donald Gip

It was hard letting go of it all.   Bhekani Buthelezi accompanied me on several outings during my time in KZN, and made a study of ethnographic research by using me as his lens.  Having observed my efforts at getting all the relationships right, he once told me that he supposed one must prepare oneself for the separation of leaving a community before even entering.  I’m not sure if that would even have been possible for me.  I did prepare by making time for final meals and visits with my new friends, but there is just no preparation for that pang of grief I felt when Dennis took my first suitcase and put it in the car.

Photos by Dennis Mills

Dennis arrived at the King Shaka International Airport in Durban Wednesday night carrying his camera, and a computer for video and photo editing.  His work began immediately, as you will see in this blog space.  He sat in on my Zulu lesson and we attended the opening ceremonies for the University of Zululand hosted Heritage Festival.  Choirs from Durban University of Technology, University of Johannesburg - Soweto Campus and Cantata Chorale (a local competition choir) participated and I had the pleasure of conducting the closing song at the end of the concert on Saturday afternoon. 

The song was "N'kosi Sikeleli Africa"which is the South African national anthem.  The text is composed in several languages, because it combines previous versions of black and white national anthems.   I enjoyed rehearsing with the UZ choir in preparation for their rendering of the song a week ago for an international conference.  We were invited to open the conference by singing the national anthem and I was very happy to be invited to conduct.  I especially enjoyed the visit of two professional choral directors from other universities in South Africa, because I became something of a student conductor in a master class.  For the first time in years, I was able to get some much needed guidance on my directing and some pointers for working with choirs.  The UZ choir is quite good, and they are well-disciplined.  They are actually a student organization called The UniZul Choral Society, and report to the Dean of Students, not the Music department.  They rehearse every day, except Saturdays and often rehearse for hours at a stretch.

Choir membership in South Africa is a way of life.  The musicians sing at events in the community and are held in high esteem by many people.  Whether students, community or church members, they seem to take the responsibility of being a musician very seriously.  I really admire this characteristic and have often felt that being a musician carries some responsibility as well as some great privileges.  As a musician, I have sung and played at countless weddings, funerals, parties and all kinds of gatherings.  I have witnessed many important life events of loved ones and of strangers.  As a music researcher, it is rewarding to observe South Africans singing  - or rendering as it is called here - and rewarding to be allowed and invited to participate.  This participation is one of the great privileges, and I often find myself nearly moved to tears by these experiences with South African musicians.

Dennis' photography is adding a wonderful component my work here, besides the joy of being back together, which is where we belong!  Going through the photos with him and talking about the process of photography and organizing photographic data gives me a dimension in my thinking and a partner in my work.  His photos of me working give me pause, as I have never really thought about how I look to other people while I'm working.  I didn't know how much I smiled or frowned when I'm talking and concentrating.  His photos of other people help me see them as a future student might.  By that, I mean that someone who has no familiarity with South African singing needs a frame of reference.  Having a photographer who is also my husband helps me construct a frame of reference that I no longer need, but others will, if they are going to benefit from my experience.

Because of the teachers' strike, I have been able to spend a great deal of time with many teachers, who are temporarily available for my endless questions - every day until the strike ends.  The teachers have been contributing a great deal to my understanding of culture and music education in South Africa.  With their help, I have been to visit several choirs and directors, and interviewed some of the teachers themselves as cultural informants.  I have a written statement of my research purpose and consent forms that I am required to use by ASU's Institutional Review Board policies.  Sometimes Bhekani Buthelezi (who is also a temporarily available teacher as well as UniZul Choral Society director and University of KwaZulu-Natal post graduate student) instructs me to put the paperwork away and just talk with people.    Sometimes, as was the case with Isicathamiya musicians in Durban, he does the talking for me.  In those instances I have developed a earnest look to wear on my face  - and if  I concentrate, I can follow the general gist of the conversation.

African Time

Bhekani Buthelezi and Suzi on the beach in Durban  that's the Indian Ocean behind us. 

Livin' on African time - I'm humming the tune to "Tulsa Time" in my mind as I write the phrase.  You might have heard it used in many contexts, such as when your event in Africa is scheduled to start at 4:00 p.m. and at 5:30 p.m. the people begin to take their places.  Or, maybe you go to a wedding that is supposed to happen  at noon and the groom and his groomsmen arrive around 2:00 p.m.  To westerners, African time can seem like a terrible insult - after all, you are told to be some place at a certain time, but nothing is happening at that certain time when you arrive. In fact, one is sometimes not very welcome at the appointed hour at all.   On the other hand, I sometimes see a miracle occur during African time.

The way I see it, the time needed to get used to an idea is African time.  The time needed to to make a good decision is African time.  And, the time spent learning the value of patience is also African time.  I went to Durban to meet some world-famous musicians, and I arrived early in morning, as I was told to do.  Sometime later that afternoon, I experienced the first conversation with someone connected to the musicians, and was somewhat distraught that I had misunderstood my instructions to be there early in the morning.  In fact, I was embarrassed at what appeared to my African colleagues as "barging in on them" - nearly four hours after I thought I was supposed to show up. By midnight, I was pretty sure that I was lucky to have been allowed to observe the music at all, and sat as near to a wall and in a dim area as possible to avoid bringing attention to myself.  But by 2:00 a.m. someone came over to me to see if I was warm enough or needed some coffee to drink.  She even gave me her phone number.  That someone took some time to think about who I was and why I was there.  While all this was happening, a friend and very busy colleague  - Mr. Bhekani Buthelezi - had stuck by my side the entire time (well OK, there was that one time when he went running into the crowd of political ralliers with my video camera to get some footage for me--as I was too chicken to do it myself).  All that time that might have been considered an insult --just waiting and waiting, but all that time there was another person waiting right beside me, explaining, interpreting, reassuring, and never complaining about the late hour or the long wait.  In fact, Bhekani tried to get me to stay even longer than I could manage, as the early morning hours began to change this long day into the next.

My advisors in Zululand go to great lengths to arrange introductions for me, so that people will "know" me.  It all seemed so ceremonial and unnecessary in the beginning, and I even felt I was wasting their time, because this practice requires some patience, no matter how it is carried out.  One waits until a more important person can become available to see you - even if you have scheduled an appointment.  Sometimes, business cannot be conducted until or unless one is known.  One waits to be fetched  - to use a local term - before saying goodbye at the end of a faculty meeting or school function.  One does not go willy nilly plundering around seeing oneself out, because one is in a hurry...at least before one is known.

Here's Elene Cloete --  she never waits for the clock to do anything!

I think I'm quite well known in some corridors and in some circles and still quite an odd and unsettling image in others.  I don't think I'll ever be completely correct with all the protocol and being known and observing African time with gusto, but I do think I might become a better person if I learn the patience required to live with African time.

I See You

In the Zulu language, one says Sawobona which literally translates "I see you".  My isiZulu teacher is a Professor of Language in the College of Education at the University of Zululand, who is also a sister in a religious order.  I address her as Sista Biyela, at her request.  Some interesting information comes along with learning to say "Sawobona" from a professional.  For instance, the "sa" in Sawobona is a plural form, but is used by one person who starts the greeting because it implies that: I, greet you together with both my living and living-dead family; and we are all concerned about you as you are part of us in the community.

From my textbook: "When two people greet each other, they shake right hands.  When you shake hands and you want to show respect and peace, the wrist of the right arm should be held by the left hand to support an act of love. " You can see this wrist holding technique if you watch the "#1 Ladies Detective Agency" tv show.  Precious Ramotswe always gives her client a cup of tea using this technique, as it is also used for giving items to people.  If you are receiving something, you place your left hand underneath your right hand to support it. The books says "it means that what is carried in the right hand is so huge and great that it needs support from both hands - no matter how small the thing given.  You may wish to thank the person using his/her praise name."

Every Zulu person has a praise name which is used when you want to thank someone or calm a person down - you use his/her praise name.  Imagine being in the middle of a rant and someone calls you by your praise name - that would be a little surprise, I think.  The praise name is more like a surname than a first name, and you never marry someone with your same praise name.  Sister Biyela says this is handy to know as a school teacher, because if I am supervising children at school and someone I don't recognize says he is an uncle and is here to pick up Thando, then I ask his surname - if he gives me his surname (many surnames indicate a specific praise name) and it is also the praise name that corresponds to Thando - then I would know the man is lying, as he could not possibly have married Thando's Aunt, who carries the same praise name.

I have been told by many informants that Zulus are not all one family, but many families or many clans.  So the Amahubo that would be sung in a ritualistic situation (one that I will never hear as a non-Zulu, unlesss I'm temporarily accepted by virtue of some role I might be asked to fill) would correspond specifically to the clan - indicated in modern society by the praise name.

First names also carry some baggage, mostly good, but not always.  My name - Nozibusiso-is very nice, because I was able to help choose it, but most people are given those names at birth.  The given name corresponds either to a role the new child is expected to play in the family, or an expression of circumstances regarding the birth.  This can be unfortunate, if one is born out of wedlock, because even modern unmarried Zulu parents may call the child Uxolo (forgiveness) to express sorrow that shame may have been brought to the family by their behavior.  The naming in general, though is a topic of conversation and a great way to create new chat with someone, so I always enjoy discussing it, as most people have happy stories to tell about their names.

So when Sister B asked me what characteristics everyone notices about me, I said that I was very lucky and very blessed, and it seemed that people around me were also very lucky and very blessed.  So she found the word for blessing busiso and then I had to decide if I wanted the form of the word that meant "the one blessing" (as though I was the answer to my parents wildest dreams) or "the mother of all blessings" (just one good thing after another, and all around me).  Sister told me to sleep on it and let her know at the following lesson.  Naturally, I chose the latter, but not just because it indicated so many blessings, but because I presented both options to Zulu friends, and they unanimously chose Nozibusiso over the alternative - Sibusisiwe.  Apparently Nozibusiso suits me well.

Shoot!

The photo is one I took while on my first "shoot" at the Soweto campus of the University of Johannesburg. The singers are being filmed for my research and book project and I am freaking out at the responsibilities involved with keeping everyone on schedule and on task. There is a whole lot that goes on at a "shoot". It was fun, and exhausting.

We are having a holiday weekend in South Africa, thanks to Women's Day on Monday. The holiday commemorates women who participated in the overturning of the Apartheid Government and many other contributions. In the early 20th century, women in Durban used their persuasive powers with their husbands who supervised treatment of interned Boers for more humane treatment. Women have repeatedly led and joined in political action throughout the 20th century and are now heading households, participating in government and contributing in just about every imaginable way to this re-developing nation.

Freedom songs, protest songs, songs of complaint, songs for social action...all these terms have a socio-political implication in the text, and many of them have used a style combining harmonic, rhythmic and formulaic elements that became quite recognizable. For some composers and choral directors, it is too far out of fashion for their choirs to sing them, and for others, critical that their choirs have a number of them in the repertoire. For Nobel prize writers, and distinguished literary giants I heard at the opening of the Wits University South African Theatre Festival, the hark back to the days when those songs were so pervasive in Black culture is still extremely important, because the memory of why they were needed is so important. I was in Johannesburg briefly during the festival and the time of the annual Nelson Mandela Lecture. The keynote speaker was Argentine born Ariel Dorfman, who is a poet, playwright, novelist and social justice advocate world wide. If you are interested in reading this year's lecture it is available at this website.

Because I have met South African musicians who want to steer our conversations away from my interest in the freedom song genre, I had begun to wonder if I was really studying something important, or just looking for an interesting history lesson. After hearing the conversation led by Dr. Dorfman the night before the Nelson Mandela annual lecture, I am more convinced than ever that text, context and social justice need a place in music education, every bit as much as years of analysis of form and style or months and years of practice teaching and education theory studies.

I took a trip from my little country home in Empangeni, on the North Coast of KwaZulu-Natal, to the big city of Johannesburg. On my first hour in the city, I witnessed a horrible auto accident that I think was fatal and on my second hour, I met Professor Mzilikazi Khumalo, a cultural icon of traditional South African folk music. He's the guy who was appointed by Nelson Mandela to solve the problem of the national anthem. He is also the eldest living composer, born in 1932 and considered the grandfather of South African choral composition. My students and colleagues at the University of Zululand arranged the meeting, and they assisted me with preparing for the interview with Professor Khumalo. What I did not know was that by the end of the day, I would secure a promise for two of his compositions, based on South African Nguni folk traditions to be contributed to my song book effort.

The next day, I met with staff members at the SAMRO centre, (South African Music Rights Organization) to obtain the legal permission and discuss my project further. The legal part of the discussion took all of 10 minutes, but the follow up hour and a half was full of new ideas and contacts for me, that the staff wanted me to have. Enriched by the experience, I hired a videographer and jumped in Wayne's van, just in time for a rehearsal at the University of Johannesburg, Soweto Campus. Wayne is the world's most fabulous driver and transportation company entrepreneur and has himself contributed greatly to my work, as he is the person who organized the famous train ride from Soweto to Johannesburg that Dennis and took in 2009.

Suzi with UJ Director Neo Motswage

Back home in Zululand now, I am wrestling with the logistics of teaching a class with 189 students, and finding time to transcribe interviews and schedule meetings with the people whom I have found to consult. I can now add "I am teaching Music" to my list of phrases that I can utter in isiZulu, and thanks to Sister Biejla my Zulu language teacher and colleague in the College of Ed at UniZulu, I hope to formulate sentences of my own choosing soon.

Ubuntu

The photo on the left is a shot of a property in the mountains of KwaZulu-Natal, near King Shaka's family origins. The white flag flying high indicates that the young man of the house has found a bride. The students cheered, sang and ululated when they saw it. One of my guides explained to me that in Zulu culture, everyone celebrates birth, marriage and success, and everyone mourns deaths. I have begun to realize that this might make people very busy, if they observe all the celebrations and life events. Just being invited to share in an occasional event has kept me quite busy. The mountains in the scene are metaphorically the elders in a song called "Inkhombela". In the song, an old man points to a young girl to indicate that he wishes to marry her. The lyrics to the song are the words to the internal dialog that the girl expresses upon realizing that there will be this arranged marriage. Roughly translated, she says "You are older, the mountain of the Zulus. Please forgive me, but I am so young, I wish I could have had a chance...."

I enjoyed an official visit to the U.S. Consulate General in Durban, accompanied by Gugu Gule, the International Linkages Director at the University of Zululand, and more importantly - my dear friend. I have grown accustomed to surrendering my bags at the doors of stores and having the car's trunk searched on the way out of the university gates at the end of work days. So, I was not phased by having to lock my cell phone and camera into a safe and surrendering my passport at the consulate security station. The only sad part is that there is a truly magnificent view of the port of Durban on the Indian Ocean from the 30th floor window in the building where the consulate is housed. I would love to have taken a picture. Durban is the busiest port in Africa, and like so many other industries in South Africa, it operates under the near constant threat and recent fiscal effects of workers' strikes.

At the consulate, I was presented with a beautiful Ubuntu pin that has American and South African flags and the word Ubuntu featured. The idea of that word is "I am because you are" - and encourages living and acting with humanity. Ubuntu is associated with Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu and the renaissance that many South Africans are working hard to create. Ubuntu symbolizes interrelatedness that many Africans experience and the need for community in order to be human. I love it, because I have come to love South Africa as I love my own country, and I absolutely could not exist without the support and humanity of an absolute plethora of Americans and South Africans.

One of the South Africans who has been demonstrating Ubuntu is a choral director (and another dear friend) named Mrs. Nelly Nxumalo. Nelly has created a list of phrases that I might find useful in my work and life, which is translated into the correct isiZulu wording. English is so different that word-to-word translations do not usually work out and I have a difficult time finding phrases in my Zulu dictionaries that pertain to my own situation. So now, I can tell you what I want you to do if you are in the choir (sit down, stand, go back to the beginning, etc.) and interestingly, Nelly included the phrase "you have beautiful legs" in my list. Should I be saying that more often?

Outside of formal choral settings, I have discovered that the song "Shosholoza" has become quite popular among the university students and they will break into singing it upon request or even without requesting. I heard it on the field trip bus, and when I was introduced to my students on Friday by their regular instructor, she mentioned that they would be happy to sing it for me. They laughed loudly when I began to sing it to them. It is a happy coincidence for me, since my research is very much about the songs like "Shosholoza" that were once sung for protests and civil rights that are now sung with different context and different meanings for those who sing them. I would have to say that it seems like the spirit of the songs has remained, but the manifestations have changed. Most all of my informants agree that while context is critical to understanding South African singing, the contexts change, so the meanings change too.

Do Re Mi

I have spent this week in choral rehearsals with Zulu choirs and in preparation for my university class, which begins tomorrow. I’ll be teaching second year Education majors a course in Arts and Culture for grades one through eleven. My part is called a “module” as a course usually implies an entire year in this four-term per year system. I rented a car, and have been learning my way around from the university to the township to Empangeni, the small town where I live. The choral rehearsals are community and church choir practices, and the University of Zululand Choral Society is the choir in which I will regularly sing while I’m here. We are hosting a choral festival in September, which will provide the opportunity for Dennis’ photo shoot and the videorecording for my book, as there will be choirs from near and far, singing in most of the 11 languages assembled in one place.

Tonic sol-fa is the notation of choice for music readers in Zululand. (By the way, Zululand is a municipality, something like a large county.) The system was invented by John Curwen – the same fellow responsible for the sol-feg hand signs that music teachers use. Black music education never included western notation until recently, and even now, tonic sol-fa is more used than western notation. If I’m speaking Greek to you, take a look at this example.

http://www.mcsr.olemiss.edu/~mudws/notes/solfa.html

Speaking and singing in a foreign language, and reading a new musical notation system and driving on the left side of the road has been challenging this week. I find myself exhausted at the end of the day, and don’t even ask me about the stick shift car in our very hilly area. It’s all fine, until I have to stop while going up a hill. What is that smell?

I took a field trip with a freshman Education Foundations class to the site of King Shaka’s grandfather’s grave. The site was two hours away from here, and the students sang the entire way. At the grave site, a small group of elders appeared in traditional Zulu garb and we were told that they were Shaka’s relatives. Being the white American professor, I was seated with the elders as they recounted the stories about Shaka’s mother and his being ostracized and shunned from the rest of the family as a child. A praise singer canted the heritage link from one generation to the next as the 80 of us and a hundred or so school children stood around watching and listening. The landscape was mountainous and the (stick shift) bus almost didn’t make it up some of the mountains. My interpreter Zama was quite impressed that I didn’t appear to be scared when we seemed to be slipping backwards down a hill with no guard rails or seat belts to protect us. I must admit, that what scared me was when the singing stopped, but once the students resumed their resounding and repetitive choruses, I went back to my picture taking.

Since classes have not started, I took a day off and made a pilgrimage to Durban to purchase some teaching materials (a guitar and accessories). I’m now the proud owner of a Cort guitar and can commence to singing and playing. If you are a guitarist and you are reading this, you probably know that I am not exactly adept at changing guitar strings, and all songs have to be placed in the keys of D or G for me to succeed at playing and singing at the same time, with reliance on the capo for the occasional in-between keys. So it was a minor bummer that I didn’t care for the strings that came on the guitar, especially since the terms “light gauge” and “medium-light” had to be substituted with “11” and “12” etc. - - what????? and also the store was out of capos. Who knew that guitar strings had numbers?

On Saturday, I attended a beautiful 25th wedding anniversary service at St. Patrick Catholic Church in Empangeni. We viewed a video of the wedding and the bridal party dancing down the aisle back in 1985, and a few dance scenes from the reception. Of course, there was a shot of the cattle that had been respectfully negotiated as well. I was pondering all that, when the bridal party appeared and danced down the aisle for real, just before the bride and groom did the same. It was a moving and musical 5 HOUR ceremony, complete with a mass and long speeches and everything. Offering was collected twice, which is an active part of church services around here. You dance down the aisle and put your money in the plate, or in this case, some people brought wedding gifts instead on the first round. Then the bridal party dances their way out at the end. We were all invited to the couple’s home for a delicious meal. At the time I left in the evening, the “after party” was just getting going.

Goodbye, Xhosa friends, Hello Zulus

The man in the photo with me is the South African Ethnomusicologist Dr. Andrew Tracey, Professor Emeritus, Rhodes University. He is from a family of well known musicians and moved the International Library of African Music from Johannesburg to Grahamstown several years ago, becoming it's second director, after the first director, his father Dr. Hugh Tracey. He shared some pointers about working as a researcher in South Africa and told me to "mind my vowels". Minding one's vowels is not as easy as it sounds, when one was born and raised in Kentucky. Dipthongs must all be eradicated if I am to succeed.

My first words to him were "I am not an Ethnomusicologist...." and his reply was "You are an Ethnomusicologist by virtue of the work you have begun." How about that! Everyone in this line of work (multicultural music specialists like me, reseachers, educators, etc.) has issues with terminology and I just wanted to get any out on the table, and was surprised at his response! In addition to Dr. Tracey, I had the good fortune of meeting with a few other local musicians and educators, including Mrs. Penny Whitford, Marimba director at the Cathedral and Mrs. Mandy Carver, Music Educator in Grahamstown and Dr. Diane Thram, Director of the International Library of African Music at Rhodes U. These colleagues provided me with some insights from the point of view of music teaching and directing in South Africa, along with some great hospitality and warmth, very characteristic of the Grahamstown crowd.

On the way back to Port Elizabeth, there were no donkeys to dodge, but a lonely baboon on the road that I was lucky not to have hit. Because I was trying to fly into Durban on the day of the semi-final between Germany and Spain, I was at the airport for several hours before successfully reaching Durban near midnight. Gugu was there waiting for me, as only a true friend would do - since we still had to drive the two hours back to Zululand, where I woke up this morning and took the day off.

Art for Art's Sake

I have been in Grahamstown in the Eastern Cape for the past three days, having arrived along with many enthusiastic fans into the airport in Port Elizabeth to the sounds and sights of enthusiastic South African hosts playing and singing and of course, blowing vuvuzelas. I rented a car at the airport to drive the 2 hours to Grahamstown, where another world wide event was concluding, which is the annual National Arts Festival. It is advertised as the second largest in the world, second to the Edinburgh festival. I was challenged by driving the rental car out of the airport and through Port Elizabeth, since the steering wheel is on the right and the driving path is on the left of the road. The surrounding neighborhood looked much like the Hillandale subdivision where I grew up in Kentucky, but something was different....oh yeah, it was the donkeys. The view of the Indian Ocean beyond Port Elizabeth was breathtaking and I tried hard to concentrate on driving while simultaneously enjoying the ocean alongside the highway.

This part of the country was the home of many famous South Africans, including the activist Steve Biko, Enoch Sontanga, composer of Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika - the national anthem, President Nelson Mandela, and all the British settlers who came here in 1820 changing history forever. As part of the renaming scheme across all of South Africa, this area will now be called Nelson Mandela Bay.

Rhodes University is the main festival site, and the entire town stages plays, concerts and art exhibits during the festival. Today was the final day of the festival, where the multitude of tents and food vendors reminded me of Jazz Fest in New Orlean. I bought some small coffee cups for Dennis for my visual art fix and I spent this morning at the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. George where the mass was set to marimba and steel drum music. The mass was part of a celebration paralell to the festival called "Spiritfest". We sang familiar hymns in English and less familiar (to me) choruses in isiXhosa, the language of the black South Africans in this region. It is similiar to isiZulu, though the basic "hello" is a different word and the related conversational words are slight variations.

I am working in the archives of the International Library of African Music at Rhodes University. The ILAM is a unique library of traditional music of South Africa and houses dissertations that are nearly impossible to access on topics of interest in my Freedom Songs project. The Kipman family from whom I'm renting housing are a family of Rhodes scholars and have provided a great perspective on the local scene as well as fabulous hospitality. I have a nice cottage with my own television and kitchen, set in a beautiful neighborhood near campus. The town is a little like Boone, only flatter and more international. The ever present donkeys downtown have continued to remind me that I am not in Kansas, and we are all pretty excited around here that the looming threat of a blackout due to striking power company workers seems to have been resolved.

Sanibona from Zululand

I woke up in KwaZulu-Natal today, and reported to my counter part in Music Education at the University of Zululand. The activities planned on my behalf are certainly exciting, but just walking with the Zulus is the most exciting part of today. Singing with the Zulu's puts me in amahubo heaven.

Amahubo is an isiZulu word that indicates the type of singing on which the Freedom songs from the Apartheid era were based. Most are said to have been sung in isiZulu and the amahubo style is used still today for protest music or situations of extreme urgency. There are vocal slides and tones sung that cannot be depicted using standard western musical notation, so I discussed my ideas about using video recordings and comments from South African musicians to teach South African song repertoire with my colleagues Dr. Elliot Pewa and Dr. Caesar Ndlovu. I think that without that commentary and the recordings, a publication of notated songs would not do justice to the intent and the emotion in the music.

Here in Zululand, I tried to practice saying hello to everyone I met today. The greeting is customary and enthusiastic, according to my scholarly references. I can anecdotal confirm this bit of scholarship, based on my day. Much like life in Boone, where everyone says "Hi, how are you"...."fine and you?"....I'm fine thank you" -- I could see that we exchange these pleasantries among ourselves around here. Except I'm tongue tied - because it sounds like "Sanibona" or "Sawubona, unjani?"..."Ngiyahpila, wena unjani?"

Since my goal is to compile a songbook representing all eleven official South African languages, I will have to shore up on a few other languages as well, and am carrying around a phrase book of the eleven official languages. It's heavy and I'm worn out from concentrating on the words and inflections.

Amidst the traffic and soccer madness, I met with representatives of the Soweto Gospel Choir and experienced a joyous afternoon of observing a rehearsal in a Dance Studio in Soweto. I am very happy that I have obtained permission to include video footage of the choir in the songbook and special permission to include a traditional song that is well known among South Africans and a composition of David Mulovedzi, the founding musical director of the SGC. His son, Jimmy Mulovedzi granted the permission on behalf of the family and sat for an in-depth interview with me about the power of music during Apartheid and how the role of the freedom songs have changed to address new struggles in South Africa - most notably HIV/AIDS.

Jimmy directs his own choir Memeza Africa, in which 18 of the 22 members are trained HIV/AIDS counselors. Rather than working professionally as SCG does, this choir performs for fund-raising and counseling in communities and among traditional healers and leaders to help combat the stigma associated with HIV testing. The Soweto Gospel Choir and the Memeza Africa group are both easily found online if you are interested in learning more about them.

Before I departed Johannesburg, I also met with directors from the University of Johannesburg, with whom I will continue to work over the next few months. Their choirs are quite different, since one is metropolitan in nature, and one is located in Soweto. Their stories and their music reflect these differences and remind me of the complex diversity among South African citizenry and music.

I'm headed to Grahamstown for the big Arts festival and archival research at Rhodes University tomorrow. Meanwhile, although the U.S. and South Africa are both out of the running for the World Cup, I will be wearing my uniform and if needed for morale, my mask.

Freedom Song: Project Description

Introduction: South African music has long represented the oppression of a black majority population throughout the years of Apartheid (1948-1994). Freedom Songs and their powerful impact on the resistance movement attracted the attention of international authorities at a critical time in South African history. This artistic repertoire is again emerging powerfully and poignantly as the South African nation rebuilds education, society and the arts.

Music’s unique role in the struggle for freedom and self-determination once served to disseminate information, promote unity, and express hope. Now, the Freedom Song genre has expanded to include messages of urgency for cessation of violence, educational awareness about HIV/AIDS, and establishment of South African traditional choral music as a cultural and national treasure. These endeavors have created new questions about what is considered “traditional” repertoire and what these newer and regenerated song forms and texts mean to people who sing and listen to them.


Research Objectives: I am sponsored by a Fulbright Scholarship, from the U.S. Department of State and Council of International Exchange of Scholars, to lecture and conduct research about South African choral songs of freedom, folkloric traditions and new compositions. During my six-month assignment, The University of Zululand and the University of the Free State are partner institutions contributing resources for my work in exchange for guest lectures and presentations. I am compiling an educational book of songs in each of the 11 official languages, selected by South African choirs, with introductory descriptions for each song contributed by South African musicians. The book will have a DVD of video recorded performances of choirs singing and moving. In addition to the book/DVD compilation, I will deliver workshops for American teachers on the topic of South African choral music and write articles for journals of music education. In my university courses, I will be able to teach about this powerful musical tradition based on my experiences with South African choirs.

Research Methodology: My research is based on interviews with singers and directors, music in South African music archives, and video recordings of South African choirs. “Freedom Songs” as I am defining them will include: 1) repertoire from the Apartheid era, 2) repertoire identified as freedom or protest songs by South African choral musicians, and 3) indigenous folkloric songs such as the Amahubo songs of the Zulu people. I have asked scholars, music directors, and students to serve as cultural informants, commenting on the music, and helping me to correctly translate text and interpret meanings of songs and their importance to South African people. Each informant will enter into an informed consent agreement with the researcher, signifying his or her willing participation with confidentiality and ethical understanding affirmed by his or her signature. It is noted that this is educational research and there will be no pay of any participants volunteering to be members of the study. If there are any profits after the expenses of the songbook are met, they will be divided equally among all the musicians who contributed, to be donated to their favorite charitable organization.

Freedom Song - Day 1: Just in Time

I arrived at the Oliver Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg just in time, it seems. The South African soccer team has been holding their own, but offical Vodacom staff presented me with a uniform upon arrival. I was a little surprised that they did not present a vuvuzela, given my background as a musician, nonetheless, I was happy to be recognized for the high school one-year in the soccer club player that I am.

There are Americans (and Greeks, Italians, Brazilians, Aussies, etc.) everywhere. I have found myself wondering when the Americans will go home so we can have some peace and quiet around here. Since I arrived on a Friday evening, I have not had much business to conduct, and will begin the schedule of meetings with the U.S. Consulate representative and choir directors on Monday morning. I was greeted at my Guest House by Wayne Jones, transportation provider for Appalachian State University in Johannesburg. It was wonderful to see a friendly face and have his immediate assistance with my logistical needs. His beautiful daughter Amy was with him and she has grown like a weed since this time last year.

Since I've been rather leisurely today, I made my way to a department store for some office supplies, then a local "prawn" restaurant. I did not expect the prawn to be served heads and all, but fortunately, my time in New Orleans had taught me how to handle the situation.

The rest of the evening is devoted to jet lag recovery, along with watching the U.S. match with Ghana. My fellow countrymen are hunters who somehow got three days ahead of schedule, so instead of hunting today, they have been drinking Hansa and preparing in their own way to support the U.S. team tonight. While I won't say exactly where they are from, I will say it is north of the Mason Dixon line and west of the Mississippi.