Ngisenge, ngasinda, ngaphuza!

It's kind of like "I came, I saw, I conquered": I milked (a cow), I smeared (a floor with cow dung), I drank (utshwala besiZulu, or Zulu beer). Allow me to elaborate: we took a day trip yesterday to Ecabazini, which describes itself as a "Zulu cultural homestead." In isiZulu, "ecabazini" is the locative of icabazi, for "flat land" or "low-lying land," and thus basically indicates the piece of land on which a homestead (in isiZulu, "umuzi") is built. The owner of Ecabazini, a white sangoma-in-training (and unfortunately he wasn't there yesterday -- he was off working with the sangoma who is training him), has, essentially, recreated a "traditional" Zulu umuzi, and the (Zulu) folks who work there also live there. It was another potentially uncomfortable situation, but given that we are 15 folks who have spent a lot of time studying Zulu language and culture, it was far less awkward (and culturally insensitive/exploitative) than it could have been. But none of you want to hear about that, so let me get on to ukusenga, ukusinda, and ukuphuza...

At the center of the Zulu homestead (both literally and figuratively) is the isibaya, or cattle kraal. Cattle (singular "inkomo," plural "izinkomo," bull "inkunzi," female "inkomazi," calf "inkonyana") were (and still are, in more rural areas) used for many purposes: lobolo (i.e. bride price) and other forms of exchange, milk (which is usually turned into amasi, or sour milk) skins, meat on rare and very special occasions, etc. Around the isibaya are arranged the various izindlu (houses or huts) that make up the umuzi. So upon arrival we started at the isibaya and were given an opportunity to get acquainted with izinkomo. I myself am someone who loves animals without necessarily wanting to get very close to (very many of) them, but I was caught up in the moment and volunteered to senga (ukusenga, to milk). I probably wouldn't have volunteered to kleza (ukukleza: milk directly into one's mouth), but in comparison ukusenga didn't seem like all that much of a challenge. The verdict? I thought my technique was quite good, but I didn't get very good results; I'd like to think that the cow was equally to blame, but then again she performed nicely for the those who volunteered ahead of me...

Cows, as you probably all know, also produce dung, and cow dung as well has its use in Zulu culture: it is mixed with water and smeared on the floors of izindlu -- the equivalent, say, of mopping. Our guide explained that most cow dung stinks because the cows have been fed a lot of garbage in commercial farming operations. Cows who only eat grass, he said, produce dung that smells much less foul. I was a little bit skeptical, but after having been very intimate with a big heap of dung, I'm prepared to believe him. At any rate, this is how the process of ukusinda works: you take a big heap of dung, mix it (by hand) in a bowl with some water, and then smear (by hand) and smooth (by hand) on the floor of the indlu. The technique is vaguely reminiscent of something that Mr. Miyagi might have taught the Karate Kid -- something like "wax on, wax off," or "paint the fence," or whatever. Ukusinda is women's work in Zulu culture, but I think I acquitted myself nicely. My end result was much less smooth than that of the woman who demonstrated for me, but not bad for a first attempt, and if I had time to go over my work (with my hand) a second and third time, I think I would have been able to smooth out most of the chunks.

Of course, ukusenga and ukusinda is hard work, so by the time we finished with all that (and with touring the sangoma's house and the other huts in the umuzi), we were ready for some lunch. We were served fairly standard Zulu fare, though I passed on the meat. We were separated by gender for the meal, which gave abantu abesilisa (people of the menfolk) the opportunity to ukudoda ("act like a man"; indoda/amadoda = man/men; ubudoda = manhood). So by the time the ukhamba lotshwala (clay pot, ukhamba, of traditional beer, utshwala) made its way to our station, we made sure that it never made its way back to abantu abesifazane (people of the womenfolk). Unlike at Nando's chicken shack across the street from our dorm, konke ukudla kwakumnandi: all of the food was delicious. The ujeqe, or crushed mealie bread, was a highlight, as was the uphuthu, which is often described as porridge but looked and tasted, to me, something more like couscous. But the real highlight, of course, was the utshwala itself, which is brewed using sorghum and thus has a (pleasantly) sour taste. I'm told that it is not particularly potent, but I would have been willing to phuza quite a bit more to test that theory -- even though angisona isidakwa (I'm not it, a-ngi-sona, a drunkard, isidakwa; ukudaka = to intoxicate; ukudakwa = to be drunk; be intoxicated; ubudakwa = drunkenness; izidakamizwa = drugs). Empeleni ("in truth," the locative of "impela," or truth) utshwala bebumnandi (the beer was delicious)!

That's all for today, but let me close with a friendly reminder: Khumbula ukuthinta ubaba wakho ngocingo namhlanje (Remember to call your father on the phone today, but in isiZulu you don't use "ukubiza," to call, but ukuthinta, "to touch," instead, so...Remember to touch your father by/through phone instead). Kulungile? Nisale kahle, bangane bami...