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Kei road

1 Stories - 10 Images - 1 Contributors
Local newspaper's chief designer and freelance photographer Bazil Raubach, often travels to interesting places, where he gets to shoot pictures of interesting people or events. This week his travels take him to Kei Road where he attended a sangoma initiation ceremony. These are his images… The day started as typical South African autumn days do, beautiful weather, no wind with just a hint of cold in the air. Kei Road was my destination and with absolutely no idea what was in store for me I jumped into the Land Rover and roared off. The Sangoma initiation ceremony was held is the first village as you approach the community of Kei Road – a small hamlet in the Eastern Cape. The men of the village had congregated in a smallish kraal and were sitting around a couple of traditional three-legged pots, bubbling away with steam escaping from their ill fitting lids. I was offered the seat of the day, an ash brick that was way to small for my bum. But all the village elders were sitting on them so who was I to complain? A village elder introduced myself and fellow photographer Terence Mtola to the community, explaining who we were and what we were doing there. Both Terence and I were wearing khaki and camouflaged clothing (a fashion statement more than anything else) and some sturdy boots. On me was a standard photographic vest with zips, pockets and straps to hang equipment on. Unfortunately it also looked very military or at least security force-is. This made a number of villagers very skittish. After much debate it was finally decided we were not informers, police or army. So we stayed and started working. The ceremony started two-and-a-half hours late, this is pretty normal for Africa, which operates on a very time scale from most of the Western world. But the wait was definitely worth it. This was a gathering of the sangomas after all. The spirits dictated terms not a Rolex watch. The ceremony started off as a low hum, and soon it climbed to a crescendo of shrill chanting, stamping of feet and slow rhythmic thumping of a cowhide drum. This went on for 40 minutes or so. During this, my flash failed and I had to shoot with the available light. Why not just put in a couple of extra batteries, I hear you ask? Not so easy when you stuck in a crowed hut - my camera bag, extra batteries and spare flash outside and at the opposite side of the kraal's homestead. Local newspaper photo editor Phillip Nothnagel, once told me that you know that you are a photographer – when everything goes wrong in the worst possible way and you get the images anyway. I did get the images, but I lost about a kilo in perspiration out of pure stress. The initiate was wrapped in white blanker with a crown of willow branches wrapped around her head, looking almost biblical. The village elders were all shrouded in similar blankets with a couple wrapped in colourful duvets or comforters making a festive sight as the swayed and danced , slowly singing in a rather alarming guttural voice that caused the hair on the back of neck to rise. It was a colourful but uneasy sight. Naleidi, smiled reassuringly to me, there was twinkle in her eyes almost as if she was reading my mind. The congregation then left the rondavel (a round mud structure used by the rural folk as houses, rondavel is an Afrikaans word for round hut) and walked to the kraal where the men sat that morning. The ceremony by now was colourful, loud, and went on for quite some time. About three hours at a guess, the light was fading when they finished. The ceremony was in typical African oral tradition with Naleidi, the senior traditional healer instructing the initiate, the family and guest in the rites, traditions and importance of the calling – this young women was about to embark on. Interspersed with singing dancing, and sprinkling of a foaming liquid generated in an old paint tin. The inductee was striped down almost to her underwear and then slowly redressed in the paraphanelia of her future career. White top and skirt, goat skin ritually cut from the skinned goat hide. The cut goats skin become a bangle of sorts and the symbolism and importance was painfully explained to the audience, witnesses and gaggle of sangomas there to aid in the ceremony. The sangomas reminded me of a tag team of sorts. As Naleidi, (university graduate of interest), tired another sangoma would take over and this went on until all the sangomas had participated in the ceremony. At one point Naleidi who for a time was beating on the cow hide drum, escaped for a moment to gulp down some fresh cold water before resuming her duties. The stone-faced initiate whose concentration never failed her once and stood in one spot for so long I thought her feet had taken root. The pantomime and animation of the tribe of sangomas during the ceremony again made me feel a tourist in my own country. There is no running water, flush toilet and light switches in this community. Cooking is done outside and African veldt (savannah) is awash in colour with growing maize fields all around. As the wind picked up the maize fields looked like an army was approaching as the tall healthy maize heads, dipped and bobbed in the afternoon breeze. Some snapshots will stay with me forever, the noise, smells and rhythmic dancing which I'm sure altered my heartbeat. A mother breast-feeding in the middle of a dancing throng of villagers, laughing at me taking pictures was a 'Kodak' moment. Sorghum beer, my first experience was 'intereeeeesting' and lets just leave it at that. The beer in question looks like sour porridge, which got stuck in your teeth and to my Western diet, quite unusual if not a little unpleasant. Ceremonial feast of goats' meat - cold, congealed with more fat than I am used to was not without taste. However the goat's hair between my teeth took a while longer to deal with, but all in all… CNN, BBC or National Geographic could not have brought my closer to this experience. Because at the end of the day, if I am nothing else… I am a proud African. * A sangoma is a practitioner of herbal medicine, divination and counselling in traditional Nguni (Zulu, Xhosa, Ndebele and Swazi) societies of Southern Africa (effectively an African shaman). The philosophy is based on a belief in ancestral spirits. Both men and women can be called by the ancestors (a consequence of refusing the calling is usually ongoing physical or mental illness). A trainee sangoma (or twaza) trains under another sangoma, usually for a period of years, usually performing humbling service in the community. At times in the training, and for the graduation, a ritual sacrifice of an animal is performed (usually a chicken, a goat or a cow). The spilling of this blood is meant to seal the bond between the ancestors and the sangoma. A trainee sangoma (or twaza) trains under another sangoma, usually for a period of years, usually performing humbling service in the community. Sangomas far outnumber western-style doctors in Southern Africa, and are consulted first (or exclusively) by approximately 80% of the indigenous population. Credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sangoma Trans·kei (trāns-kā', -kī') Pronunciation Key A former internally self-governing Black African homeland in southeast South Africa on the Indian Ocean coast. It was designated a semiautonomous territory in 1963, granted nominal independence in 1976, and dissolved and reintegrated into South Africa by the 1993 interim constitution. Trans·kei'an adj. & n. Article Bazil Raubach©

Society

Sangoma, an african healer

(Intro)Local newspaper's chief designer and freelance photographer Bazil Raubach, often travels to interesting places, where he gets to shoot...

by Zilba Raubach in South Africa on 21/03/2009

Latest News

Sangoma, an african healer

Society

Sangoma, an african healer

(Intro)Local newspaper's chief designer and freelance photographer Bazil Raubach, often travels to interesting places, where he gets to shoot pictures of interesting people or even...
by Zilba Raubach, on 21st of March 2009

Reporters