I had a really good conversation with my co-worker zanele re: race issues in swaziland. I was trying to formulate why I was so angry with the way I see life here. Despite trying to observe everything without employing a western lens, I just can’t come to grips with race relations here. We talked for quite some time and as I was speaking I began to realize that you can’t discuss race as a separate entity; it is too interconnected with too many other issues to be observed alone. I realized that I’m more upset with capitalism and the disparity between classes than with race relations. Can either be examined alone – no- are both bouncing off of each other – absolutely.

I have yet to see a poor white person here (although I’m sure there are whites living in poverty in South Africa). Going into rural areas all I see is the poverty that exists there. Children wearing old and tattered clothes, food aid programs, shacks and mud huts falling apart, men and women selling anything possible at their stalls. 69% of the population lives below the poverty line. I never really understood poverty until I came here. Yes, there is poverty in Canada but not like here. It’s every where you go. It’s in my face so much I sometimes don’t even see it. And it is black Swazis who live in it. Hence my anger or frustration towards white Swazis.

White families employ black maids (so do black families though). I’ve never seen a white person working a low skilled, low paying job. I’ve never seen one taking public transport (unless it’s another Canadian volunteer…I’m serious). They own or manage businesses. Employ locals at low rates. Own a lot of the farms. This colliding of white/black rich/poor is so hard for me to understand.

I hate the way this blog entry sounds. I just can’t seem to get out what I want to say. Perhaps I haven’t spent enough really thinking about it.

This is nala...one of the animals that i live with.

As I have less than a month to go here, I have been thinking a lot about leaving. I’m a little worried about the reverse culture shock. I know being here has changed me yet I don’t think I know just how, or how much, until I’ve been back. I’m currently reading a book by Alexandra Fuller titled “Scribbling the Cat”. She is a white Zimbabwean who moved the US in her twenties. I read a passage recently from her book and I think she articulated how I’m feeling, or what I’m worried about (words in italics have been changed to make relevant for me):

"It should not be physically possible to get from the rolling mountains of Malkerns to Halifax in less than two days, because mentally and emotionally it is impossible. The shock is too much, the contrast too raw. We should sail or swim or walk from Africa, letting bits of her drop out of us, and gradually, in this way, assimilate the excesses and liberties of Canada in tiny, incremental sips, maybe touring up through South America and Mexico before trying to stomach the land of the Free and the Brave."

white or non-white?

Finally visited the apartheid museum in Johannesburg over the weekend. I’ve wanted to visit it since I came here and finally made the long kombi ride. It was the best museum I’ve ever visited and feel I understand this part of the world a little bit better.

Upon arrival you get a ticket that reads with ‘white’ or ‘non-white’ depending on your skin colour. My friend who I was with has a Filipino background so she was given a ‘non-white’ ticket. When we went to enter the museum we had to use the entrance designated to us – white or non-white. It was very powerful. We had to spend the first part of the museum separated. I wasn’t sure if I’d see her again until after we had finished but luckily the segregation part was for a short time only.

I’ve wanted to talk about race for a while now but just can’t seem to. There is so much I want to say, so much I have observed but can’t quite seem to formulate my thoughts clearly. I feel the topic is taboo. Perhaps this is part of the racist ideology – keep people scared of talking about it? The lives and whites and blacks here are so different. When I try to talk about it with my white Swazi friends they don’t seem to think there is a problem. I question them about the obvious class differences, poverty levels and high numbers of blacks in low-skilled jobs. No body wants to talk about it or admit there is a problem. Maybe they don’t want to give up their cushy status.

I guess I’ve broken the subject now. Will try and clearly articulate what’s been going on in my head since I arrived.

spear + 2 cows = death

(photos are coming, it's hard without a computer to download on)

had the most interesting day yesterday. this could be a long blog entry and i know most people stop reading after the first few lines. so for short
went to a lobola (dowry negotiation/engagement ceremony)
watched negotiations of cattle and money for a woman
watched 2 cows being speared to death and later skinned.

interested? you should be! read on.

when a man chooses a wife (sometimes without her knowledge or consent!) he must give her family cattle and money in exchange for the bride. this is called a lobola. usually, a man must pay 15 or so cattle. as times change, people from the city usually give the bride's family the money instead. one of my co-workers, tulani, went with custom and bought cattle. he invited me (and 2 friends) to come along. what an experience.

we arrived a little late and the negotiations had already begun. every homestead has one hut (always a circle) that is used for meetings. we went inside the 'meeting hut' (with a translator) and watched the negotiations between the two families. tulani had purchased 12 cattle and was offering money for an additional 5. however the cattle were more expensive then he had thought and he was trying to give them less cash than he had previously promised. they refused. tulani was not actually able to discuss this personally with them. he had brought an elder, marked by a blanket (not sure reason for this) who did all of the talking for tulani. after 2 breaks, they reached an agreement. tulani could have their daughter and they would get cattle, money and blankets.

the second part of the ceremony involved tulani giving blankets to all of the elder women on the bride's side. the mother got two. she was wrapped in both, inside the hut in sweltering temperatures! i felt sorry for her.

after the bride was brought into the hut (she and tulani met at university and i think are in love?...i'd assume anyways). when women get married here, in rural areas especially, they wear what i call the wife uniform. it's this horrible red or blue smock apron/dress thing. they are so ugly. they must also cover their heads with a matching scarf. she was presented the uniform and dressed into it. she was laughing/crying.

after everyone started clapping, singing and dancing. a person would go in the middle, kick their legs high in the air, do this thing with their hands and when their foot landed make a circular motion. after the first woman went i heard a co-worker yell my name. i tried to become invisible but soon everyone was chanting "katie katie katie". i did not want to dance! tulani took me by the hands and made me dance! i tried to mimick what i had seen. it wasn't pretty. i got lots of laughs and the tribal "lalalalalallalalal" thing that women do.

finally the time had come. SLAUGHTER TIME

i could probably write a book about the cow slaughter. i can't believe i watched it. i can't wait to post photos. the man who did the slaughtering entered the kraal and sat down. all 12 cattle were there. 2 were going to be killed. someone poured salt on his arms which he licked off. i thought this was a purity/pollution thing but i was told it was in hopes that the cows would die quickly.

the spear was very small, like the photo at top. the cows were not tied up so he had to walk around until he had a good shot. ideally, he'd kill them on the first stab. unfortunately, both cows died a slow and painful death.

the first time the first cow was stabbed, i could hardly believe it. it made such a small puncture and only a little blood was coming out. immediately after spearing, the 'guy' must sit down. this is to respect the animal and let it fall (hopefully). the cow did fall after a minute or so. i was surprised. however it wasn't dead. all of the other cattle were surrounding it, almost protecting it. the 'guy' crouched down and stabbed it again. sat down. and again. sat down. it wouldn't die. finally they slit its throat. it took about 10 seconds and the cow was screaming the whole time.

on to the second cow. this time the biggest cow was chosen. the first stabbing did nothing. i could hardly see any blood. second spearing. third. fourth. after each attach, the 'guy' would sit down. he looked upset. he kept asking everyone to sit down (i had a translator). he believed the cow wasn't falling because we were all standing - and cheering and singing. what an event. i was the only one looking shocked and upset. finally he had a good stab but the spear broke! the cow was running around with a spear sticking out its body! it was too much to watch. finally the cow fell. the 'guy' went over the kept stabbing it until it died. wow.

as if that wasn't enough they skinned the cows right there in the kraal (where else would they go???). each side got one cow and it was sort of a race. i watched the whole thing. people would walk away with buckets of blood, intestines, stomach, liver etc. legs were cut off and hung from trees and the posts of the kraal. the heads were placed on plates. only men eat the heads. was there any running water here? did people wash their hands afterwards? i don't even want to know.

and of course what do you so with a carcase that is basically skinned? tug of war. of course.

it was a thrilling day. one i'll never forget and so amazed i got to experience. the world. what a place!

feeling better

i got so many emails and a few phone calls (thanks mom and dad) with regards to my last post. didn't mean to worry anyone! feeling much now. luckily i either had the 24 hour flu or a reaction to meat from the weekend. regardless i'm glad i'm fine. i wouldn't want to be in any real danger here.
shortly after writing the last blog entry, i developed a fever, chills and ached all over. despite the fever and 39 degree weather (yes, 39), i was wearing a sweater as my friend drove me to the hospital. i went to the see the doctor. "ahhh, yes" he says after a few Q&As, "you have typhoid fever." i start to freak out...."i do?" i go to the lobby, "megan, i have typhoid fever" as i begin to cry. "um....didn't you get a vaccine for this?" she asks. oh ya, i did. how could have i forgotten? i go back inside and tell the doctor. "hmmm", he looks stumped. i tell him i was in a malaria area for 3 days while in namibia and even though i did take anti-malarial tablets, maybe i picked up the virus. or was bitten by a tick. lots of ticks where i live. maybe i have tick bite fever. he says i need 3 anti-malaria pills "STAT" however he's not sure where i can get them. he orders blood tests for me. i asked when the results will be in, he says friday. isn't that too late? won't i be in a coma or dead if i have malaria? "don't worry, i don't think you have malaria" he says. he still wants me to take this emergency medicine even though all of the pharmacies are closed. "hmmmmm", he's stumped. shit out of luck of me.

the nurse that take my blood tests finds some of the pills i need. i'm relieved. she also says the results will be in in less than 24 hours. still......

i get the results. i'm fine. just the flu i guess. going off meat again though.

i had a little chuckle at myself this morning. i have some nausea today and am really bloated (and no, it's not my period). it's extremely hot (37degrees without the humidity) but i don't think it's that. i just feel ill.

i thought i'd turn to my ol'friend google and see if i could find the cause. using google to research illnesses is always bad news - you end up having symptoms for everything. anyways i type 'bloating, nausea and africa'. before i even get the results i'm laughing. it could be anything and everything here! i've taken my health for granted in canada. the water is always clean, the food is safe to eat, there are no bugs in my food, clothes, shoes, hair, in my bed, shower, at the gym, in the shops, on the streets (well there are but not like here) and so forth. i'm excited about having a kitchen minus the ants and other exciting creatures.

anyways, point being, i feel sick today. i know 2 of the other canadian volunteers aren't up to par either. one girl thinks she has a parasite. i hope i just have the flu.

mango madness

Can we discuss my love for mangos for a minute please. I love mangos. They make me happy. They are a bitch to eat but such a joy.

It’s mango season and I couldn’t be happier. Mangos growing from trees at my home, at my office, on some of the streets I walk down. Mangos for sale everywhere I go – shops, vendors, in baskets being balanced on women’s heads. Each mango (if not picked from a tree) is E1. That’s about $0.07.

Before coming here I wasn’t really sure how to each a mango. I’d cut them in half, try and twist the two halves apart and mangle the insides in varying ways. Sometimes I’d peel it. Peeling it is ok and perfectly acceptable. A lot of people here eat the skin for added nutrients. I’ve joined the ranks of mango peel eating. I eat them like apples. The juice runs down my arms. My hands and face are sticky. I get rind in my teeth. I laugh. I’m happy. I love mangos.

so much work to do

I’ve been asked a few times why I’m working here, why ‘development’ work is necessary, why I’m a feminist. I guess these are a few reasons that I deem relevant:


In 2004 Swaziland became the country with highest HIV-positive population, 38.6%

As of 2004 the life expectancy for men and women was 31years

Women make up over 50% of those infected with HIV/AIDS

The feminization of HIV/AIDS: women have a higher risk of infection because they are often care givers to those sick with the disease, the culture of polygamy is alive and well so often their partners aren’t faithful, when a husband dies the wife if often married off to his brother thus increasing the risk of infection

In 2005 alone an estimated 16,000 Swazis died of AIDS

It is estimated that there are currently 63,000 orphans as a result of HIV/AIDS. I have visited communities and schools where families of only children live together – there are no adults to take care of them

In an index of countries based on the level of income inequality, Swaziland ranks 119th out of 124 nations.

Women earn 29% of what men earn in Swaziland

Swaziland’s gender-related development index, the human development index adjusted for gender equality, places it 146th out of 177 developing countries (UNDP Human Development Report 2006)

The legal rights of Swazi women are unclear given the country’s dual legal systems and the new constitution (which could almost be considered a joke with reference to women’s rights)

Much of Swazi women’s economic and societal vulnerability stems from the fact that, upon marriage, they assume a legal status comparable to that of a minor child. Marital power prohibits women from securing bank loans, opening bank accounts, leaving the country, making major decisions, registering property in their name.
There are no domestic violence laws nor marital rape laws.

*some of these stats were taken from:
Epidemic of inequality. Women’s rights and HIV/AIDS in Botswana and Swaziland. An evidence-based report on the effects of gender inequality, stigma and discrimination. Report by Physicians for Human Rights. 2007

where's the beef?

When I was 18 or 19 I decided to become a ‘vegetarian’. Just like that, cold turkey, ha ha ha, I stopped eating meat, chicken and fish. I still ate dairy products however. It was really easy and I never really missed my old diet habits, except at Christmas when I would sneak gravy.
When I moved to Japan I decided to start eating fish. It was such an important part of their culture that I felt I really needed to participate in it. Some may call this weak. I guess my reasons for being a vegetarian weren’t that strong or animal based or I (hopefully) wouldn’t have started eating fish again. But wow, was it ever good. Sashimi…yum. Once I returned to Canada I continued eating fish.
Meat is a very important part of Swazi culture but I’ve never felt that by not eating it I was missing out on anything. I guess Japan had the appeal of food preparation and display whereas Swaziland does not. They braai it (bbq), chuck some sauce on it and that’s about it.
Despite that, I’ve been craving meat for the past month or so. Like really badly. I’ve been tired and experiencing low energy. A few weeks ago I thought “what the hell” and ate some meat. I can’t remember if it was chicken or meat. All I know is that it had once walked. Was alive. It tasted good. Really good.
Since then I’ve eaten chicken twice and springbok (sort of like a deer) once. I think I’m going to eat meat again. At least for a while. Maybe until I leave here? Until my body says enough.
Ran 5km last night. Played ultimate Frisbee afterwards. Ate chicken, rice and veggies. Damn it was good.

it's sooo hot

how hot is it?

my contact solution evaporated (luckily me contacts were ok once i added more solution)

the bottom of my friend's flip flops melted at were walking on the sidewalk

when going to bed while camping, the ground was still so hot it felt like sleeping in a heated sleeping bag

on the hottest day, i was not able to be in the sun for more than 5 seconds without feeling my skin burning and my neck stinging with sweat

two days left of my fabulous trip then back to swaziland where i have 5 weeks left. i'm ready to go back to canada. i'll enjoy the 5 weeks but i'm excited to finish the internship and go back to school.

the past 2 weeks have been absolutely incredible. i've never seen such scenery in my life! 3 days ago we drove 600km and passed 4 homesteads and 8 cars. this country is so barren. i have no idea what people do if they have car problems. we over-heated twice - once a young guy helped us and the second time we were prepared and had 3 litres of reserve water in the car for the cooler (think that's what it's called). when we finally made it to a village to camp we asked how people get around. "by donkey cart" was the response. of course! we passed a few during our drive. what a slow hot drive!

so much to say. new years was interesting. pulled in to a tiny town around 6pm and pitched our tents. a few locals approached us (already drunk) and offered to bring us to the best party in town. after saying no for a while we gave in, jumped in the back of the truck and off we went. pulled up to this ranch with say, 15 people. yup, bumping party. we left around 9pm because it was just too surreal.

guy: what's your name (with a strong strong accent)

me: katie

guy: what

me: kate

guy: you must be sad about that one

me: why??

guy: kenny! your parents named you kenny!

maybe had to be there but was too funny.