Friday, December 21, 2012

Swazi Culture

One of the first observations a visitor to Swaziland makes is that Swazis are very proud of their culture.  And Swazis have every reason to be proud.  Despite colonialism and globalization, Swazis have not just maintained a few costumes or festivals, but rather they have actively sought to protect and pass down their heritage in its entirety.  This is what makes this tiny little kingdom so unique.  It feels like a secret place where there is no apparent contradiction between the bastions of tradition and the conveniences of modernity.     
Traditional dress is not just appropriate at specific functions, but anytime.  A teacher, a bank executive, a rural kid, or an old grandpa are all equally likely to be spotted walking around in animal skins and patterned wraps called emahiya. After school clubs revolve around traditional dance.  Cultural lessons are taught every year in school…Swazi weddings are held by most as superior to “white weddings” and only the most radicalized Christians decry traditional ceremonies as “ancestor worship.”…The two major festivals in the country (Umhlanga and Incwala) are not just a ritual put on for the few tourists who come; they are visited and upheld by almost every Swazi.  In fact, the festival dates vary yearly depending on the star alignments, making it difficult for tourists to plan a visit. 
“It’s our culture,” or “It’s un-Swazi” are the two divergent perspectives on virtually every socially contentious issue in Swaziland.  For example: when conservatives argue that it’s culturally appropriate to beat women and children, the other side can point out that Swazi customary law allows the battered woman to run back to her family’s homestead without fear of repercussion, interpreting this to mean that it was never acceptable to beat women.  Likewise, the house of the Gogo is a sacred place where children and women can run to, and the abuser is not allowed to enter.  In this way, Swazi culture is actively interpreted, debated, and framed in a way that takes “Western concepts” such as circumcision and women’s rights and makes them relevant to daily life in Swaziland.    
This framing of every issue as an issue of cultural relevance doesn’t even feel contrived.  When Swazis criticize Umhlanga or Incwala, they don’t criticize for the same reasons I might criticize them.  They argue that the tradition, once good and pure, has been polluted by ruling elites who wish to “manipulate Swazi culture” for nefarious purposes. 
And while some governments may criticize the King for this supposed manipulation of culture, he isn’t opposed to many of the “Western” solutions to the problems in his country.  In fact, culture can even be used as a weapon for good.  At a time when most African leaders refused to acknowledge the crisis of HIV/AIDS, King Mswati III became Africa’s first ruler to publicly shake hands with an openly HIV+ individual, thereby signaling that there is nothing “Swazi” in stigma and discrimination.  And while he received flack and anger from groups around the world for briefly imposing a law requiring young girls to wear sashes signaling their virginity, he was at least trying to come up with culturally appropriate solutions to stop the spread of HIV at a time when the epidemic was at its peak. 
There is some longing for the good old days in Swaziland, some decrying of Western values corrupting the youth.  This argument seems to increasingly revolve around women wearing pants.  At a recent protest against harassment in the bus ranks, police sent the protesting young women home to change into more modest clothing.  The irony was apparently lost on the police.  Also recently, a woman wrote an editorial about being humiliated and fined for wearing pants by Bemanti (people who come from the palace and who I have only been able to identify as the culture police).  Another mother wrote in to say something like “I’d rather end up with no culture if this is the kind of treatment our daughters receive.” 
I brought up the editorials to an elder female friend in the village, asking her opinion on the matter.  “Ah, but Zanele- it is not good.  If you wear pants, the men will rape you.”
“But if I wear pants, it’s much more difficult for them to rape me.” 
“Ahhhh…I see you!” She laughed. 
And while the idea of a pants ban might seem crass from an American perspective, it is healthy to remind ourselves that the politicization of women’s’ bodies occurs in America and around the world.  (Sluts wanting birth control and justified rape ring any bells?  FYI- Birth control is free of charge in Swaziland.) 
I think the debate that something is or is not culturally appropriate for Swaziland is healthy, as I see the most rational and progressive side winning out in the long run.  Both the good old days and Western values are put into a machine which disassembles and rebuilds them to better serve the people.  This occurs with healthy debate and without a sense of loss from either side.  The debates may take time, but they ensure that Swaziland will remain a place with beautifully visible cultural heritage for decades to come. 

Sunday, December 9, 2012

The Unexpected

“Now it is not good for the Christian’s health to hustle the Aryan brown

For the Christian riles and the Aryan smiles and he weareth the Christian down

And the end of the fight is a tombstone white with the name of the late deceased,

And the epitaph drear: “A fool lies here who tried to hustle the East.”

-Rudyard Kipling

I am fast approaching the sixth month mark of my time here in Swaziland.  Looking back on the past six months, there are some things that I expected, and some things I really didn’t.  Here is a list of the unexpected:

I did not expect such indifference towards my past, my culture, or my country.  Granted this is also a product of the communities I’m working with- mostly rural poor with limited media access.  The few times I have gotten questions, they have always been amazingly random: “Is wrestling real?”  “Do you have cows in America?”  “Are celebrities Satan worshippers?”

I did not expect Swazis to be as friendly and helpful as they are.  When the young khumbi conductors see the lost little white girl standing at the Manzini bus rank (which African guidebooks dub the most crowded bus rank in Africa), I don’t even have to ask for help guiding me to the right khumbi.  I am asked “Where to?” in clipped Swazi English.  I tell them my destination and the young men guide me like they’re the Secret Service and I’m the President fleeing a bomb threat.  Also, cheers to the man who carried my enormous gas can with me, the grandpa who pulled the tick off my neck, and my host brothers for never once complaining about the extra chore of caring for my dog when I’m away. 

I did not expect health problems to consume so much of my time.  Since coming here six months ago, I have been treated for giardia, African tick bite fever, a cough that lasted three months, viral infections of horrific sore-throatiness, and GI illnesses that remain undiagnosed (pending an upcoming visit to a specialist).  I’ve always been a bit paranoid about my health, so the trip has not been fun.    

I did not expect to see so many awesome insects/bugs.  They often look a lot like bugs in the States, but somehow bigger and more colorful.  When there are hundreds of giant grasshoppers hopping in one tiny corner of the grass, I’ll be looking to the sky for the next plague to strike. 

I did not expect training to cover the topics it did, and expected more depth in other areas.  We spent a solid four or five days on mental health/feelings/diversity/grief, which may be very valid given past attrition rates.  Apparently the shift was more of a global standardization of Peace Corps policy (perhaps in response to the now infamous rape and murder cases), as the past group reports having had significantly more time devoted to technical trainings.   I am a total workaholic, though, and wanted three months of solid language and technical trainings. 

I did not expect to draw strength from meeting Swazis working to change their communities and country.  Trying to effect change with families that sometimes only have the abilities/resources to care about their immediate condition produces only a few, small victories.  Listening to an impassioned speech on corporal punishment by a ministry employee at a training reminded me to quit being selfish and to do what I’m here to do.  In discussing corporal punishment, the gentleman reminded us that the manipulative argument of cultural heritage should be challenged in many arenas, not just in the arena of school discipline.  “Yes, it was done to us, but we need some kind of introspection to ask, was it right?”  Knowing that there are people such as him working for change inspires me to not give up on changing behavior in a small way in my community. 

I did not expect to spend so much time straddling two communities.  One community is my village.  The other is the Peace Corps, which is a strange little group of Americans who are all so stunningly different that you know that you would spend very little time with most of them if you weren’t thrown into a program together.  Over time, our group has finally become more cohesive, and I will be going on vacation to the beaches of Mozambique over the New Year with some of my fabulous new friends!  (Can’t wait!!) 

Finally, I did not expect to spend at least five minutes every day with my jaw hanging open, staring in awe at the buena vistas.  The sun rises and sets in colors too brilliant for words.  It conveys to me only the melancholy reflection that this incandescent paradise is tainted by a disease which preys upon the deepest chords of our humanity.