Friday, Aug 1, Part One

Friday, Aug. 1 2008

Today was a long and full day, travelling mostly on washboard dirt roads between stops.

Our first stop was the Sparr Market in Manzini. The Sparr is a super market much like one you would find in the states. There is a deli, meat counter, and aisles and aisles of groceries. I find it strange that the 2 only cities of any size, Mbabane and Manzizi, are fairly western. There are banks with ATM’s in which we can use our debit cards to get money. There are super markets and gasoline stations; even a Kentucky Fried Chicken. Yet one can literally drive 5 minutes out of the cities and be in the midst of mud huts with thatched roofs without the most basic of amenities.

Our purpose at the Sparr was to shop for food for a homestead we were to visit later in the day. The family with which we were to visit was comprised of several children being raised by their grandparents. Their parents had fallen victim to the AIDS pandemic as so often happens in Sub Saharan Africa, leaving the elderly to raise the young.

Our crew went up and down the aisles and eventually ended up with 3 grocery carts filled with rice, beans, mealy maize, fruit, juice, bread, and some sweets as well. After checking out, Make Janice, our team captain, noted that these 3 carts of groceries costs less that it costs our team, usually 14, to eat dinner at a sit down restaurant.

After leaving the Sparr we travelled to the homestead of Babe Mhlanga. Babe is the President of Kukhany O Kusha, the highest ranking official other than the Bishop. Babe’s homestead was very remote, and though very basic, was comfortable and inviting. Most of our travel was over gullied red dirt roads. When we arrived Babe and Make Mhlanga received us graciously, as is also the Swazi tradition. Babe summoned us all to the side yard and then went to the pen and fetched a goat. He encouraged us all to pet it and have our picture taken with it. After a bit, he very formally announced that it is the Swazi tradition to present your guests with the best you have to offer, and though he only had 3 goats, he was presenting us with this one. It was ours to do with what we wanted. He went on to say we could take it back to America with us, or he would be happy to slaughter it while we are here and prepare it for us. We all laughed at this seemingly symbolic gesture, until we realized it was not symbolic at all. They were actually going to slaughter the goat and cook it for us as a gesture of generosity and honor.

The conversation that ensued dealt with the logistics of the slaughter, when it would take place and when the meat would be prepared. Thankfully there was no immediate bloodshed planned, but the goat would be slaughtered tomorrow, Saturday, and would be prepared on Sunday after church. I was beginning to wish I hadn’t been so friendly with poor Billy Goat. As we boarded the vans and left for our next stop, I saw poor goat grazing in the field. The next time I see you, I thought, it will be under very different circumstances.