Early on Friday morning, July 27, two of my colleagues and I hopped on the South African backpacker bus called the Baz Bus to begin a 10-day journey across the country. 
Our first stop was in Storms River on the Garden
Route. I had been here once before and had ziplined through the forest, but
this time we decided to do the highest bungee bridge in the world! The experience
was incredible. I was absolutely terrified but many of the people in our jump
group helped me calm down, including an Irishman we had met earlier on the bus,
named Keiran. I accidentally tried to jump
too early! I was ready to just jump off the bridge as fast as possible so I
wouldn’t change my mind while waiting and looking over the edge. Little did I
know, they were not quite ready for me to jump yet…. Oops. But everything
turned out fine, and the sensation of jumping was incredible (although I admit
the first thought that ran through my head once I jumped was “why am I doing
this….”). I was a little nervous after I had bounced and was just hanging there
waiting for someone to rescue me, but there was so much adrenaline running
through my body that the fear barely registered. It was so thrilling!
We stayed overnight at Dijembe Backpackers, a charming,
rustic little hostel in the suburb area of the Storms River forest. It was a
good introduction to camping, since many of the facilities were outside (and it
was raining) and most things were broken to due to the large rainstorm (TV,
showers, etc). But the staff was so friendly and helpful and there were two
adorable dogs and a sweet cat, so we still had a wonderful time.
Our next stop was a quick overnight stop in Port Elizabeth.
We didn’t get to see much of the city and our backpacker stay wasn’t terribly
eventful. Then we went straight through the Eastern Cape and the former
Transkei (a separate country during apartheid, which is still marked by poverty
and its rural nature) to go to Durban. Along the way our driver told us all
about the beauty and craziness of the Transkei, from wandering animals
(although this seems to be true all over rural South Africa) to enormous marijuana
farms.
We also saw Nelson Mandela’s current home, and the flag was raised to
indicate that he was at home! So we were only about 100 feet from the man
himself, as I was finishing reading his book, Long Walk to Freedom. I felt like
I knew him pretty well at that moment.
We stayed the night
at Hippo Hide Backpacker in the suburbs of Durban, which was extremely
beautiful and quaint. It was pretty quiet for a backpacker, although this is
the low season since it’s winter, and they were all rather quiet. We did meet a
couple of people, including a wonderfully friendly guy from Seattle named Dean,
who shared tons of information with us about Durban and even gave us his map of
the area around the backpacker (I discovered on this trip that people who stay
in backpackers tend to be really friendly and interesting, and often around my
age). The gardens were extremely beautiful, as you can see from the photos
below.
We only had one day in Durban, and one of my colleagues and
I decided to spend it in a traditional Zulu village outside of the city, called
Maphephtheni, in the Valley of a Thousand Hills. The setting was absolutely
beautiful—the valley is incredibly lush and the water is some of the clearest I
have ever seen.
The village was, as the name of the area suggests, set in the
rolling hills around the valley. We were shown around by a lovely resident of
the village—a 21-year old Zulu man named Jason. He expressed his love for the
United States and travelers like us, explaining that he wanted to go to university
and become a tour guide (he’s waiting on a government grant which will allow
him to pay for school, but I have a feeling that he may wait longer than he
expects to, since the SA government tends to be a little slow). He first took
us down the water, where he showed us a ritual known as “the promise of the
girl.” According to Zulu custom, when two young people fall in love, the girl
must pick the grasses down at the water and weave a bracelet for the boy, which
he wears and shows to his family. After his family has seen the bracelet, they
go to the girl’s house, where they ask the family about the girl’s virginity
(this is determined not by the girl’s word, but by the village chief—I will
explain this ritual in a moment) and then negotiate the bride price (a virgin
is worth 15 cows whereas a girl who is not a virgin is usually only worth 11
cows).
Next Jason showed us the annual ritual known as the “testing of the
girl,” which is done for all girls around the age of 17 each year. In this
ritual, the village chief hands a plant that resembles bamboo to each girl and
she must break the plant in half. If she succeeds in breaking the plant
cleanly, it means she is a virgin, and likewise she is considered to have lost
her virginity if she is unable to break the plant cleanly (and this is very
hard to do!! Nobody in our group was able to break the stalk cleanly).
We then walked around the village and he showed us the
different kinds of homes people live in. Each house complex has a rondavel,
which is generally used as a kitchen and room for prayer. The circular shape
allows for more people to fit in the room with fewer building materials than a
rectangular home, and it means that the house has no corners (the Zulu people
believe that corners trap bad spirits and therefore should be avoided). Rondavels
made of mud indicate that the owner is unemployed, whereas a stone or brick
home indicates that the resident is employed.
Brick homes are considered the
nicest, since bricks cost money, whereas stones are provided free of charge. Some of the most
important structures in the village are the kraals, where the cows are kept,
since these are also used for important functions such as weddings and parties.
However, only men, who control the cows, and virgins, who collect the dung for
various purposes, are allowed into the kraals. Homes with their own kraals
indicate the importance or wealth of the resident; most kraals are communal.
One home we entered with its own kraal belonged to the oldest sangoma, or
traditional healer, in the village. Per the tradition, she wore the colors of
the sangoma: red, white, and black, which are restricted for sangomas only. We
learned in her rondavel that the villagers respect her greatly, and believe
that the only thing she cannot cure is HIV/AIDS. This is the only instance in
which the healer will refer someone to the hospital. Otherwise, she offers
cures for everything from acne to snake bites. When the sangoma (who can be
male or female and is chosen by a practicing sangoma through a discussion with
the ancestors) does not know how to make a cure, she simply lights a ritual
fire and communicates with her ancestors, who give her the answer.
We then walked back through the village to Jason’s family
home, where we had a delicious meal of putu and homegrown spinach, cabbage,
butternut squash and tomato, which we got to eat with our hands (it doesn’t
always look pretty but it is awfully convenient and fun).
After leaving the village, we got dropped off in the city
center at the famous Victoria Street Market, which was very similar to the
touristy Greenmarket Square in Cape Town. The goods were generally cheaper than
in Cape Town (no surprise there), but the quality was also a bit lower, so we
refrained from buying too many souvenirs.
We spent the next morning scouring the area near
Hippo Hide for some more Durban curry (which is even better than Cape Town
curry since the Indian population in Durban is even larger), but could not find
any place that was open in the mornings. Sad and hungry, we got on the Baz Bus
for our last full day on the bus to go to Jo’burg. More to come in the next post!
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