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!