Andile & Julie
Many things that at first seemed strange and unfamiliar to me (the pronunciation of Xhosa words, the absence of a knowledge of "personal space," and the informality of the workplace, to name just a few) are old hat now. However, in beginning to write this blog entry, I started to realize there was one cultural practice I was privy to at Thandokhulu that I never had the chance to learn more specifically about. That practice is the male rite of passage known to the Xhosa people as the Initiation Ceremony.
On my first day, I began to notice that while most students wore normal uniforms to school, there were a few young men in attendance at Thandokhulu that did not adhere to the strict dress code. Instead of navy blazers, light blue button downs, and khaki slacks, these boys were dressed to the nines in pinstriped suits, beaded straw hats, and flamboyantly long dress shoes. I didn't have to wait long before someone clarified this strange practice for me: These young male students were recent graduates of their own Initiation schools; in the eyes of the Xhosa community, they were recognized as men.
Previous to working at Thandokhulu, I had no knowledge of that this rite of passage was still customary for young Xhosa men in South Africa. In fact, the only knowledge I had about the practice was what I gathered from Nelson Mandela's description of his own Initiation in his autobiography Long Walk to Freedom. I assumed that the practice was outdated, rural, and irrelevant in modern society, but apparently I was wrong. Most of the older male students teachers I asked had participated in Initiation in some form. If the 18-and-over male population at Thandokhulu is any indication, the Initiation ceremony is still very much a vital part of life in the Xhosa community.
In reading of Mandela's early years, I learned that Xhosa men are circumcised very late in life (usually when they are around 18 years of age) as a rite of passage into manhood. However, I had no idea that the ritual was any more complicated than the singular act of performing the circumcision. According to Mandela, an uncircumcised Xhosa man "is a contradiction in terms, for he not considered a man at all, but a boy. For the Xhosa people, circumcision represents the formal incorporation of males into society. It is not just a surgical procedure, but a lengthy and elaborate ritual in preparation for manhood." In the book, Mandela describes the lengthy process of becoming a man in the eyes of the Xhosa. He attended a special school in seclusion away from his family in order to teach him lessons he would need to learn in order to be recognized as a man by his people. After several weeks of lessons, complicated ceremonies, and quests, the actual circumcision took place. Shortly after he recovered, Mandela was officially declared a Xhosa man.
While Mandela's depiction of his journey into the World of Men was very engrossing, I thought it would serve me better to learn about the process of Initiation from someone more accessible to me for questioning purposes. Before asking any of my students, I thought it would be a good idea to seek out one of the elders who oversaw the lessons taught to the boys at school. Thankfully, I didn't have to search long to find someone very qualified to answer my questions. Early on in our stay in Cape Town, I recalled one of the first people we had met here, Dr. Guma (or "Tops" for short), had recently served as an elder at a circumcision school. Upon realizing this untapped resource, I endeavored to call him to question him extensively on the subject.
My first round of questions focused on the "circumcision schools" themselves. I asked Dr. Guma a flurry of questions about the subject matter of these essential lessons, and he was happy to oblige me: "We mainly focus on oral [Xhosa] history, moral values, and responsibilities that go along with being a man. For example, how to adapt to tough situations. They must learn to also understand the environment and how to take care of it. And about faith. Faith is very important to a Xhosa man."
I then recalled that on our first week in Cape Town, we had seen two young men walking down the road with what looked like heavy blankets wrapped around them. They also had on straw hats, and were carrying long walking sticks, which we were told had something to do with "becoming a man." When I asked him about the purpose of the strange garb, he explained that it is donned just before they are ready to engage in the final steps before circumcision. It symbolizes that "they are passing through a transitional stage. They dress in the capes and paint their faces to "symbolize that they are no longer boys, but also not yet men."
After this fairly comprehensive question-and-answer period, I felt moderately confident I was ready to approach one of the boys at Thandokhulu to get a different perspective on the Initiation rites. That is, until I actually tried talking to any of them. Whenever I contemplated walking up to a group of boys in ceremonial clothing, I was overwhelmed with an intense feeling of trepidation. After all, as a woman, would I be perceived as impertinent for asking questions about a practice reserved for Xhosa men? Would I be pressing my luck in asking about such an intimate and sacred rite? I would soon find out…
My chosen interviewee was Andile Mzangwe, and I was pleasantly surprised at how willing he was to answer my questions. If you'll refer to the photo I persuaded him to take with me, you'll see why it was so easy for me to pick him out from the crowd: the large brimmed straw hat was a dead-giveaway. I was very desperate to talk to him, because it seemed that Initiation students were few and far between in school as a result of the minibus taxi strike (which I assume someone will write about in another blog entry). Many of the school's students were absent or late, so the pool I was drawing from was much smaller than it would have been on a normal day.
As I correctly assumed, Andile was a fairly recent graduate of Initiation school, and was going through the six-month period of daily formal dress required of a Xhosa man after his circumcision. According to Andile, this formality proved that he was prepared for the seriousness and responsibilities of life as a man. When I asked him why he decided to begin learning at circumcision school at the age of 18, he responded simply "I wanted to grow up. I wanted to learn about the hardships of life." According to both Andile and Dr. Guma, Xhosa men can begin initiation school at any point between the ages of 18 and 50. When pressed further about what specific lessons he'd been taught, he began to recite the values that had been instilled in him by his elder, Teacher Joseph. "Dignity, loyalty, and respect, not just for my elders, but for those who are smaller than me, too." These heavy lessons were obviously very important to the well-spoken Andile, who also related to me that there were things I simply couldn't know about the process of Initiation because I am a woman. "There are secrets," he said with a smile, and left it at that.
There are moments here when I am struck by just how many questions I want to ask the people around me about. So much is strange and unfamiliar to me, and yet, just when I feel ready to ask, I lose my nerve. In the case of Xhosa initiation, however, I'm glad I asked. While the specifics of the practice itself are still mostly a mystery to me, in asking, I am broadening my understanding of cultural norms throughout the world, and growing as a result.
Pumeza, Julie, and Sindi
