It's been a long day, filled with emotions and panic, to use Yvonne's favorite word of late. I have a lot of topics to cover but no energy to do it, so I'm only going to write about one today. I'll update you tomorrow on Nomasomi's bungalow situation (that's the panic part) and the rest in a couple days.
I spent most of today with Zindzi's mother's funeral. I was there from beginning to end so I have a much clearer idea of the goings-on. I was about 6 hours in total, partly due to some timing problems, but those point out some of the infrastructure problems people here deal with every day.
(I almost wrote “put up with every day” which sounds a little too apathetic. In some regards, people do just put up with it because it's the way things have always been. Service levels here are poor, at best. The peristatal companies, Eskom (electricity) and Telkom (telephone), and government agencies are typically the worst, but just about everyplace is bad. Clerks are rude, time has no relevance, and your priority is not any else's. Most people here do just put up with it because that's how it's always been. It even trickles down to interpersonal relationships, where someone just won't show up for a meeting or to do a job. A lot of people are hoping that the planning and program installation for the 2010 soccer World Cup tournament will help, getting people to understand what's going to be needed to convince the world that South Africa is a first-world player. I hope so too, but I'm not holding my breath.)
The day started at 9:00 with a gathering at Zindzi's house. It is customary to gather for prayers and worship, kind of like the deceased person's “last day at home,” as Zindzi told me. It was a beautiful day for it, sunny and cool. Of course, my bald, pink pate didn't take to the sun too well but I'll live. The house owner will attach a tent, more like an awning, to their house to create a theater of sorts. This is also where lunch is served after the graveside service (more on that below).
We were at the house for about two hours, which is an hour longer than usual. We were delayed from moving to the JL Zwane church because some other church had taken over Zwane's hall for another funeral. No one seemed to know how that happened – when I left the office yesterday Zindzi's mother was the only funeral on the schedule. Zindzi also had trouble with the buses not showing up on time. People rent buses to bring participants to the church and the cemetery because very few people have their own transport. It was a lot of pressure on Zindzi, who is still trying to deal with death and responsibility of running the house. She was doing quite well, though. (When I first met Zindzi I was very impressed by her maturity and demeanor. She acts and talks much older than 19. When I saw her earlier this week she looked like a little girl who had lost her mother. She was shy and withdrawn, like she didn't know exactly what to do. It was a sad and striking comparison. Today, she was back to her old self, having accepted her mother's death and moved on.)
From the house we went to the church. The service was the typical 2+ hours, with about 20 songs and several speakers. (I still can't figure out how they know when to start a song – it seems like someone just starts singing in the middle of someone's speech and everyone joins right in. Sometimes everyone stands and sometimes only half the group stands. I'm sure there's logic in there somewhere but I haven't found it yet.) One nice addition to this funeral was that the ladies auxiliary kept 6 women around the casket all the time, like they were guarding from evil. They'd rotate women every 10-15 minutes so no one got tired. This auxiliary group had fancy cheetah-patterned hats, while the men's auxiliary had matching cheetah waistcoats. It was a nice change from the typical black or white.
After church was the graveside service. This lasted about 30 minutes. I described that a couple weeks ago, it's similar to any Christian burial I've been to in the US. The only difference is that they fill the grave while the people are still there.
I spent most of today with Zindzi's mother's funeral. I was there from beginning to end so I have a much clearer idea of the goings-on. I was about 6 hours in total, partly due to some timing problems, but those point out some of the infrastructure problems people here deal with every day.
(I almost wrote “put up with every day” which sounds a little too apathetic. In some regards, people do just put up with it because it's the way things have always been. Service levels here are poor, at best. The peristatal companies, Eskom (electricity) and Telkom (telephone), and government agencies are typically the worst, but just about everyplace is bad. Clerks are rude, time has no relevance, and your priority is not any else's. Most people here do just put up with it because that's how it's always been. It even trickles down to interpersonal relationships, where someone just won't show up for a meeting or to do a job. A lot of people are hoping that the planning and program installation for the 2010 soccer World Cup tournament will help, getting people to understand what's going to be needed to convince the world that South Africa is a first-world player. I hope so too, but I'm not holding my breath.)
The day started at 9:00 with a gathering at Zindzi's house. It is customary to gather for prayers and worship, kind of like the deceased person's “last day at home,” as Zindzi told me. It was a beautiful day for it, sunny and cool. Of course, my bald, pink pate didn't take to the sun too well but I'll live. The house owner will attach a tent, more like an awning, to their house to create a theater of sorts. This is also where lunch is served after the graveside service (more on that below).We were at the house for about two hours, which is an hour longer than usual. We were delayed from moving to the JL Zwane church because some other church had taken over Zwane's hall for another funeral. No one seemed to know how that happened – when I left the office yesterday Zindzi's mother was the only funeral on the schedule. Zindzi also had trouble with the buses not showing up on time. People rent buses to bring participants to the church and the cemetery because very few people have their own transport. It was a lot of pressure on Zindzi, who is still trying to deal with death and responsibility of running the house. She was doing quite well, though. (When I first met Zindzi I was very impressed by her maturity and demeanor. She acts and talks much older than 19. When I saw her earlier this week she looked like a little girl who had lost her mother. She was shy and withdrawn, like she didn't know exactly what to do. It was a sad and striking comparison. Today, she was back to her old self, having accepted her mother's death and moved on.)
From the house we went to the church. The service was the typical 2+ hours, with about 20 songs and several speakers. (I still can't figure out how they know when to start a song – it seems like someone just starts singing in the middle of someone's speech and everyone joins right in. Sometimes everyone stands and sometimes only half the group stands. I'm sure there's logic in there somewhere but I haven't found it yet.) One nice addition to this funeral was that the ladies auxiliary kept 6 women around the casket all the time, like they were guarding from evil. They'd rotate women every 10-15 minutes so no one got tired. This auxiliary group had fancy cheetah-patterned hats, while the men's auxiliary had matching cheetah waistcoats. It was a nice change from the typical black or white.
After church was the graveside service. This lasted about 30 minutes. I described that a couple weeks ago, it's similar to any Christian burial I've been to in the US. The only difference is that they fill the grave while the people are still there.
Kevin Winge described the cemetery as being like one you'd see in a wild west movie. It is much like that, with the exception of seeing marble markers on some graves. See what you think. It's certainly not like any US cemetery I've been to.Then came lunch at Zindzi's home. It's custom to wash your hands in special tubs of water outside the house. I learned today that if you wash before the family has arrived and washed their hands you are inviting a curse upon yourself. I made sure to stand way back. When Zindzi's grandmother washed her hands there was a mad rush to the tubs in order to get a good seat under the awning. Lunch was beef neck bones, rice, spinich, and a small potato. I was starving (relatively) and it tasted very good. I sat at the clergy table, again, and talked about religion in America with a Church of Christ minister and a Methodist member. I only wish I knew more about religion in America.
(Lately I'm having a hard time dealing with hunger. My own, not others. Those of you who know me well know that I eat about 5-6 times a day. It's mostly due to the fact that I exercise in the early morning and I can't usually last from breakfast to lunch without a mid-morning meal. I also try to eat something in the afternoon so I don't eat a big dinner. Well, I've been feeling guilty lately when I have my morning sandwich while working in the pharmacy because I've noticed that the tech there doesn't eat anything all day. I don't know if it's her choice or a necessity (I'm guessing the latter). I eat in the storeroom just so she doesn't have to watch me. I also feel bad when I think about being really hungry, like today, knowing that many people here feel like that all the time. Is it bad to eat because I can? Should I feel guilty about eating when others don't or can't?)
We left lunch just after 3:00 and headed back to JL Zwane. From there it was dealing with Nomasomi, which I'll write about tomorrow. Hopefully everything will be resolved by then. Suffice to say things are not proceeding as planned and I'm very worried. I've also learned all about the law of unintended consequences, which I'll fill you in on.
More to come.
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