Good Eats

It is highly possible that I ate more at the end of last week than the rest of the month combined. Why? Zulu “functions.” On Wednesday, my school had a big parents meeting. On Thursday, I attended a farewell party for a teacher at a nearby school. And on Saturday, my family had a pretty intense ritual/reunion. It was more or less a non-stop eating extravaganza.

When I first heard about the parent’s meeting that we would be having on Wednesday, food did not even cross my mind. I was told this meeting was an opportunity for the parents to come to the school and meet the new teachers, learn about the academic, physical, and financial goals of the school for the year, and express any concerns. The only thing that I really thought about was the fact that we have been in school since January 14^th and we are finally getting around to talking to the parents on May 29^th. I guess better late than never. Perhaps a few plates of cookies and some juice were in order. Not quite. On Monday we had an hour-long staff meeting to discuss the menu and make a shopping list. We decided on beef, chicken, and rice, with cooked cabbage and butternut side dishes. On Tuesday, the female teachers had another meeting to discuss who would be preparing what dishes in the school kitchen. It is no secret that I am a terrible cook, and the teachers have given up trying to teach me, so my role was simply to cut cabbage. Perfect. The meal preparation got started just after morning assembly, with half of the female teachers in the kitchen while the other half watched over the classes. The male teachers just went about their day like normal. Since we would not be preparing any food on the braai (bbq) there was no reason to trouble them with any of the work. The parent’s meeting was scheduled to start at 9am so it began promptly at 10am. After several hours of talking, listening and cooking, the meal was ready to be dished out at about 12:30pm. 

Dishing the food in the back of
the hall at our Parents Meeting.

All the teacher were expected to attend, while fifteen to twenty learners came in from classes to serve the food to the 90 or so parents and staff that were sitting in the hall. And when everyone was finished eating, a different group of learners came in to collect the dishes and start washing. As with every Zulu function I have been to, there were more then a few extra plates of food and the teachers spent the rest of the afternoon dividing the leftovers among their many lunch containers. After the meeting, I asked the principal if she thought it was a success. She noted that the parents were happy to meet the new teachers and to see the library, but most especially, they were very pleased with the meal we served. So yes, a total success.

I was not surprised that Thursday’s event was happening; however, I was surprised that I was asked to attend as a representative of our school. Frankly, I had a pretty long list of things I wanted to get done at school and really didn’t feel like going to another school to say farewell to two teachers that left at the end of last year – neither of whom I had clearly ever met. But that’s the way it goes – everyone else was busy as well. The ceremony was supposed to start at 10am, so the three other teachers I traveled with planned to arrive at 11am. We were first. 

Things got rolling around 11:30am. After about two hours of speeches, prayers and, performances under a huge outdoor tent (that incidentally nearly collapsed twice because of the wind), we were invited to “refreshments” in one of the classrooms. Once again you could have fed most of the village with the amount of food that had been prepared; beef, chicken and rice, with green salad, bean salad, pasta salad, coleslaw, butternut, beetroot and salsa side dishes. Not to mention the juice and cold drink (aka soda) and a pudding and fruit dessert. I think I really would have enjoyed it had I not just seen an extremely similar meal the day before.

So when my host sister told me on Friday evening that there was going to be a big ritual on Saturday at our uncle’s house, I had to laugh. Another function. More food. This particular ritual involved three slaughtered cows and was more or less a huge family reunion. My host mom has many brothers and sisters. One of her brothers decided to have a ritual to honor the family’s ancestors, and that is best done when the whole family is present. In this instance that meant about 200 people.

Since I was planning to go to town in the morning, I was not present for the early parts of the ritual, which included slaughtering a fourth cow and some traditional singing and dancing. I did arrive in time to see the men parade through the yard and then gather in the coral to take turns speaking to the ancestors about how they are remembered.

Uncle Ngobese hosted the family reunion
and leads the men to honor the ancestors.

The men take turns telling the ancestors that
four cows have been slaughtered to honor them.

I also arrived in time to eat yet another huge Zulu meal. Beef and chicken served over rice were the main dishes, with a plethora of side salads to suit all tastes. Immediate family members were treated to eating under a lavishly decorated party tent while extended family and a few friends and neighbors ate in the various houses on the property. 

A pretty upscale event! This was after everyone had eaten.

After everyone was well fed, the meat of first three slaughtered cows was taken out of the cooking pots (oh yeah, the meal that we ate did not consist of any of that meat) and offered to the ancestors before being divided amongst the living. 

Out of the pots to be shown to the ancestors.

Men and women gathered in separate houses to divide the cooked offerings and later the raw meat of the cow slaughtered earlier that day. Each person (children not included) received a plate that was slowly filled with different parts of the cow until everything had been dished out. While this was happening, quite a bit of alcohol was being consumed by men and women alike. 

One of the houses where the women gathered
to share their portion of the meat.

It was that kind of event!

We called it a day when the meat was divided, the alcohol had run dry, and we had all put our share of the goods in plastic shopping bags to carry home. When my family brought me my share on Sunday morning, I took a small piece and said that they could keep the rest, as honestly, there was no way I could eat anything else.

I have to say I enjoy a hearty Zulu-style function, especially the coleslaw and butternut side dishes – I think those have to be mandatory for me to attend. But three out of four days is a bit much. Hopefully my next function won’t be for a few more weeks.