Incwala

I am in the middle of a 7-day trip to Swaziland. Today I had the honour of being invited to take part in a tribal ceremony along with about 900 other men. For the best part of it I was the only foreigner, the only white man. An honour it was indeed!

Incwala is the most sacred Swazi tribal ceremony. This is when the king grants permission for the people to eat the ‘first fruits’ of the year. Men from all over the kingdom make their way to the royal residence at Lobamba and build a ‘kraal’. This is a large circular wooden enclosure. They then perform dances and sing songs inside the kraal for a number of days as they wait for the king to come before his people to give his blessing.

I went along with two girls with the intention of merely being a spectator. The way it works, there are two entrances to the kraal. The men enter from one side and the women from the other. Having first removed my shoes, I went in through the one entrance expecting to meet up with the girls inside. However, once I had entered the enclosure the possibilities of this was cut out by the presence of about 100 head of cattle directly in front of me. I didn’t see the girls again until afterwards.

The majority of the men were in traditional Swazi dress whilst a small number were in military uniforms. At first, I stood at the side with the elders as the rest of the men swept around the enclosure in a large circle in a kind of dancing, marching style, herding the cattle in front of them. After this had gone on for about 10-15 minutes, all the men formed ranks facing the entrance that the women, the King and his wives would be coming through. Then everyone proceeded to start a slow dance/chant. It was very slow and rhythmic. The elders had re-joined the rest of the men at this stage. Whilst I would have been content to just stand at the side still and watch, they beckoned me to come and join their ranks. So I did. One thing I haven’t mentioned is that all the men and a wooden staff that they were using as part of their dance. Perhaps in place of a spear, I thought. I was without one of these. Luckily, one of the elders had a spare.

So there I was, a solitary white man dancing a sacred African tribal, ceremonial dance with several hundred men, wooden staff in hand. I lost track of time, but I think that we danced there for about an hour.

This was quite a surreal experience and one I wasn’t expecting to find. It’s funny how the best ones work out like that. Needless to say, it is one I will always remember.

Touchdown

Well…I landed this afternoon after almost 24 hours of sleepless travel.

It was a lot colder than I was expecting. I remember when I touched down in Calcutta, I walked through the door of the plane and was knocked back by the change in temperature. Though that was never really going to happen. It is only Spring here, after all. Actually, it was warmer back in Old Blighty the week before I left.

I was introduced to my new apartment and couldn’t have been more pleased. Situated in a marina style complex it holds the top floor of its block. Inside it consists of a spacious open plan design between kitchen, lounge and balcony that is very agreeable. My bedroom hosts a large double bed and ensuite bathroom – a particular luxury considering I have been cramped into a small single for the last six months. All things considered, it seems I’ve done quite well. However, best of all is the view from my balcony. Northwest facing, it allows me to watch the sun set behind Table Mountain from across the sea.

Happy days so far!

Difficult and dangerous

The reputation of Africa for being a place unlike any other instils a certain amount of trepidation prior to my move there.

I have challenged and I have pushed myself to travel to some fairly difficult and dangerous places before – Russia, Kazakhstan and Mongolia sitting near the top – but Africa is supposed to take the biscuit. Except is it really as difficult and dangerous as some people make out? Opinion is relative to experience. Perhaps that is what they think, because it is the common opinion. Is it actually the case?

TIA...’This is Africa’... is a phrase I have recently become acquainted with. As far as my understanding of it goes, it is supposed to sum up the idea that anything can happen in Africa, nothing goes to plan, and expect the unexpected. Well on that basis, it’s certainly not going to be a dull place! In fact, from my experience of literature, film and other sources of discussion about Africa, it is full of so many extremes of the good and the bad things in this world, that it is…as I said before…a place unlike any other.

And this is why I’m going. I won’t shy away from the difficult and the dangerous. It has always been in my nature to go out and explore and experience as much of this world as I can. When I’m old and tired, if I have achieved that, or at least given it a bloody good go, then I will be a satisfied man.

Ready to go

The last four weeks has comprised a long series of goodbyes on my run up to moving to South Africa…

From those in the office, to those in the pub. From old friends in London, to new friends in St Albans. From visiting my father, to visiting my mother. It seems to be a never-ending process. Not one that I make begrudgingly, don’t get me wrong. I have enjoyed my mini-tour to see family and friends. But I am now ready to go.

The recurring questions generally revolve around,

“Are you excited?”

“Are you nervous?”

To which I always answer “Yes, a bit of both.” The relative proportion of each varies from one moment to the next. And as much as I am happy to answer the questions, it seems I have answered the same questions hundreds of times now. My response has been mastered and refined over and over again, like the reworking of a speech. I suppose it could be likened to a boxer or an athlete being asked a continual stream of repetitive questions running up to the big event. So now I am at that stage that they must reach, when they are tired of the talk and the chat. They, as I, just want to get on with it. To start the fight. To start the race.

I am ready to go.