I was given an incredible honor and opportunity when Grace Ngcete, manager of Ethembeni and surrogate mother for me here in South Africa, invited me to a 3-day traditional Xhosa ceremony at her home Grahamstown. Grace’s husband died a little over two years ago. These ceremonies and festivities are a formal send-off for his spirits to be with the ancestors, according to Xhosa tradition. In addition to the large gathering of family, friends, and neighbors, the central focus of the tradition is a cow that is sacrificed. Let me just say…WOW. Though I did stick out just a little bit (aka stuck out a lot) as a white, English-speaking foreigner (though my Xhosa is improving and several people complimented my speaking ability), people were very welcoming and had me participate in everything as a friend.
We were in the backyard of Grace’s modest township home and the cow was tied to a post in the ground. Pretty much everyone gathered around and after several preacher-like proclamations from several men, including Grace’s son, and some herbal blessings, the men got to work on the cow. In the process of tying it up and taking it down, everybody waits for the cow to cry out. “Thetha! Thetha incomo!” Speak! Speak cow! The cow did let out a long and sorrowful groan much to the pleasure of the crowd as everybody began cheering. This crying out from the cow is a signal that the spirits are being sent up with the ancestors (I think that’s how it goes, please forgive my cursory and possibly inaccurate collection of these events. It is a very moving and exciting spiritual experience that I’m still trying to absorb/remember). Then the killing begins. I’ll spare the details for now, but let me just say it was intense. I’ve never seen anything like it before. And long story short, barely 45 minutes after the initial tie-up, we were eating cooked chunks of meat with our hands. They cook the meat right on the wood in a fire next to the cow body being sliced and diced so that every part is used well. Over the course of the three days after the killing of the cow, there was a whole lot of meat that was cooked and eaten, Umqombothi (traditional Xhosa beer), Brandy (still haven’t figured out where brandy fits in to the equation in the traditional sense), conversation, many blessings and proclamations from community and family members, and a celebration of Mr. Ngcete’s spirit being with the ancestors.
The whole ceremony over the course of a few days was a truly moving, interesting, sometimes awkward, and very educational experience for me. Though I was an outsider for obvious reasons, I was warmly welcomed and given the opportunity not only to observe, but to participate in a Xhosa cultural tradition. I was able to practice speaking Xhosa much (including a very brief half-English, half-Xhosa speech in front of a room of Grace’s family members as I left on the last day…yikes! It actually went well and garnered smiles and small applause for my efforts), meet so many interesting people, visit my first shebeen (township pub), eat a whole bunch of meat (including some parts that I still don’t think I could identify on the cow), and bear a little discomfort to take part in a totally memorable experience. And I was even given an official South African clan name: Thakwenda. Sweet.
We were in the backyard of Grace’s modest township home and the cow was tied to a post in the ground. Pretty much everyone gathered around and after several preacher-like proclamations from several men, including Grace’s son, and some herbal blessings, the men got to work on the cow. In the process of tying it up and taking it down, everybody waits for the cow to cry out. “Thetha! Thetha incomo!” Speak! Speak cow! The cow did let out a long and sorrowful groan much to the pleasure of the crowd as everybody began cheering. This crying out from the cow is a signal that the spirits are being sent up with the ancestors (I think that’s how it goes, please forgive my cursory and possibly inaccurate collection of these events. It is a very moving and exciting spiritual experience that I’m still trying to absorb/remember). Then the killing begins. I’ll spare the details for now, but let me just say it was intense. I’ve never seen anything like it before. And long story short, barely 45 minutes after the initial tie-up, we were eating cooked chunks of meat with our hands. They cook the meat right on the wood in a fire next to the cow body being sliced and diced so that every part is used well. Over the course of the three days after the killing of the cow, there was a whole lot of meat that was cooked and eaten, Umqombothi (traditional Xhosa beer), Brandy (still haven’t figured out where brandy fits in to the equation in the traditional sense), conversation, many blessings and proclamations from community and family members, and a celebration of Mr. Ngcete’s spirit being with the ancestors.
The whole ceremony over the course of a few days was a truly moving, interesting, sometimes awkward, and very educational experience for me. Though I was an outsider for obvious reasons, I was warmly welcomed and given the opportunity not only to observe, but to participate in a Xhosa cultural tradition. I was able to practice speaking Xhosa much (including a very brief half-English, half-Xhosa speech in front of a room of Grace’s family members as I left on the last day…yikes! It actually went well and garnered smiles and small applause for my efforts), meet so many interesting people, visit my first shebeen (township pub), eat a whole bunch of meat (including some parts that I still don’t think I could identify on the cow), and bear a little discomfort to take part in a totally memorable experience. And I was even given an official South African clan name: Thakwenda. Sweet.
