A Southern African Adventure…Victoria Falls.

Before leaving southern Africa, I wanted to take the opportunity to travel to other countries in the region. I am a third of the way through my itinerary. First stop - Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. Second stop - Harare, Zimbabwe. Third stop - Capetown, South Africa. Fourth stop - Johannesburg, South Africa.

My experience at Victoria Falls was other worldly. Have you ever seen the end of a rainbow?…I did in Victoria Falls. A lot of people refer to Victoria Falls as the ‘adrenaline capitol of the world.’  In my opinion all of the hang gliding, bungee jumping and white water rafting are just distractions. The real thing to do in Victoria Falls is to actually see the falls themselves by walking. That is what I did. I only wanted to experience this wondrous natural phenomenon and to purchase one of the famous Shona Sculptures. It was great.

I left on Monday morning with a wild whirlwind of a departure. The trouble started when I forgot to turn the volume up on my phone so I could hear my alarm. I overslept. Nightmare! I awoke at 7:12 am. My flight was scheduled leave at 8:45 am. My friend who had come to drive me had been waiting for 45 minutes outside of the gate thinking that I had some sort of emergency. Yikes! I threw on my clothes, packed the rest of what I could and swooped out of the door. In the process I misplaced my keys and forgot my phone charger. But, fortunately, I made it. The fun began when the plane took off and I could relax.

Zimbabwe is a green, bright and happy land of sunshine. I spotted the falls while in the sky. It looked like a tremendous gulf in the earth with huge plumes of white smoke rising. I disembarked from the plane, bought a Zimbabwe sim card for my phone and located my hotel transport. I am traveling on the cheap. Of course, no travel is cheap, but the most affordable options for me are Airbnb lodges/homes. I arrived at the Flatdog Lodge, checked in, changed clothes and headed for the Falls. 

Victoria Falls is a national park of Zimbabwe. As I entered through the gates, I realized that I had arrived in a woodland fantasy.  Broad-leafed trees with tangled vines christened either side of a stone laid walk way. I had on my tennis shoes for this visit in order to get the full experience. It was about 3:30 in the afternoon. As I approached the falls I heard the roar of the water. And then I saw paradise. Millions of gallons of bubbling water tumbling over a stone cliff that was sculpted by Jehovah God himself. It was so tremendous, and even miraculous, that I became emotional and just started praising God right there. Never before have I seen a sight such as this. Countless rainbows arched over the falls. They were so close and so vivid that I imagined that sliding down one of them would be like slipping along a popsicle-like arch of ethereal glowing color. The path is organized so that visitors can see multiple views – each one at a different angle. The falls are about two kilometers long. The path leads closer and closer to the water, so after a while it starts to rain. (I purchased a rain poncho at a craft stall across from the entrance.) There were birds and plants that I had never seen before. The smell of green fills the air there. It is a sweet earthy smell. Please see the photos below.

I spent about a two hours visiting and revisiting the views. After, I went back to my room, showered, changed and went to dinner at a restaurant called Mama Africa. They had great traditional Zimbabwean guitar players. I tried a Shona ‘hot – pot’ dish, which was stewed beef with ‘greens’ and peanut butter rice. (I am referring to ‘Greens’ like the Black American mustards, collards and kale.) Greens, as I have suspected all along, are an Africanism. (Afro – Brazilians eat them as well.)

Most of the population of Zimbabwe is Shona. About 10 to 15 percent are Ndebele. A few are Lozi. It was the Lozi that used to live on the land of what is now called Victoria Falls. The Lozi Kingdom incorporated all of western Zambia, the top most northeast tip of Botswana, the easterly arm of Namibia and the Northwestern tip of Zimbabwe. The Lozi Kingdom, including Victoria Falls, was called Barotseland. The falls form a border between Zambia and Zimbabwe.  The actual name of this huge water fall is a Karanga word, Mosi-oa-Tunya, translated into English as “Smoke That Thunders.” The Zambezi river is the name of the body of water that rushes over the cliffs.  It is a UNESCO World Heritage site. (My second visit to one this month! Wow!) People from all over the world were there to visit. 

I got up early on Tuesday morning and went again. This time, I walked all the way to the end of the path, and braved the rain. As I walked, the path got closer and closer to the falls and the spray became a constant rain. I saw a rainbow actually arched over the pathway. An overland rainbow. I passed through it. I saw a rainbow encircled around where I was walking. Another across the path onto the trees. I saw the end of these rainbows. As I approached to get closer to the end, the translucent light danced away.  Imagine. The sweet smell of green, the spray of the rain, the roar of the falls and the sight of the rainbows. It was an otherworldly experience. Not to be sacrilege, but I felt as if I was being baptized. It was the closest experience with God’s creation that I have ever had. I was all alone also. No other people were in sight. I do not have photos of this area of the falls because it was too wet to take my phone out for photos. I have to rely on my memory, and you, my readers, on my words. 

I did not think it would be a big deal to see ‘a waterfall.’ I wanted to go, because I was close and I wanted to see. I did not expect to be changed. Anyway, rainbows have always been special to me. God’s own special love language for me. One quick story. I was facilitating a Christian abstinence education program for girls in the South Bronx – an area of the city with one of the highest teen pregnancy rates, HIV transmission rates and child and teen prostitution. A very dark place. With the program as a tool, the light of the Gospel pierced through into each girl’s life. Needless to say, I underwent the most difficult persecution that I have ever gone through in my life. And I was alone with no family support. No matter. God was with me. At around this time, I was also doing a teaching artist residency in the Northeast corner of the Bronx. It was right on the 4 train, which goes above ground. On the way home it rained. Then the sun came out and a glorious rainbow appeared. Not one, but two rainbows. A double rainbow. Right in the middle of the Bronx. Rainbows represent God’s promises. (Genesis 9). Seeing that beautiful double rainbow gave me the encouragement I needed to get through that time. God smiles on me when He gives me His rainbows. I have many more stories, but I will not be able to do them justice in this short account. Another time. Seeing so, so many of them makes me know that many promises are going to be fulfilled within the next few years. 

I made my way back to the gate, trying to inhale as much of the heavenly green fragrance as possible. I said goodbye to Victoria Falls and headed for the craft market. 

Shona sculptures are internationally famous. Before I even left home, I purposed in my heart to get one. They sell for hundreds of dollars state side. Here in Zimbabwe, I got two beautiful ones (sets of twins) for much less. Once I made my purchase, I headed back to the lodge and left for the airport. I touched down in Harare, the capitol city, later that afternoon.

Last Stop - Serowe: A Botswana Cultural Escapade - Day 5 (Fri. March 17, 2017)

My visit to Serowe put things in perspective for me in terms of understanding Botswana. Serowe (pronounced Sa-ro-ay) is the capitol of the Bangwato tribe. The first thing I noticed is how neat, clean and well maintained everything was. It had the most shining example of a grocery store I have seen since I have been in the country. The roads were paved and smooth. There were sidewalks. I don’t think that it is a coincidence that the first president of Botswana, all the presidents after, and the current president are all Dikgosi (kings) of the Bangwato tribe. Serowe is in great shape. Even beyond these smaller considerations, my visit to Serowe revealed to me the essence of Botswana as a contemporary country. An unfortunate incident also revealed that each country has a complicated bad side as well, and Botswana is no exception. The simple story of my visit reveals both the good and bad side of things here in Botswana, so I will just tell it all.

Serowe is in great condition.

 When we arrived, we had a brief lunch and went to the Serowe museum. It was similar to others that I have visited in terms of cultural exhibits. However, this museum was focused on Khama III of the ‘three chiefs’ delegation and Sir Seretse Khama, the first president of the country. The museum also houses the Bessie Head archives. Bessie Head is a well - known ‘Colored’ South African writer who was exiled for her activities in the anti-apartheid freedom struggle. She lived in Botswana, and specifically in Serowe, where she penned all of her heralded masterpieces. I haven’t read her yet, but I will.

Bessie Head lived in Serowe, in exile from apartheid era South Africa

After the museum, we went immediately to the Kgotla. I learned that the Kgotla is not only a democratic meeting of an ethnic group where decisions are made and judgements are pronounced by various chiefs, but the  Kgotla is also the administrative center for the group. Each Kgotla has a large outdoor meeting space and administrative offices where records are kept, and day to day business is conducted by the Dikgosi and their assistants.  

Administrative Records of the Bangwato Nation held at their Kgotla. These contain judgements of disputes and other matters.

Outdoor area of kgotla meetings

  
 Over each nation there is a paramount chief and several chiefs under him. I have heard them referred to several times as royals. This term is always uttered with a hint of frustration, mixed with a tinge of admiration and familial tolerance. I have heard statements like ‘royals are always difficult to deal with.' The chiefs settle disputes within the tribe. If a case is too much for him to handle, then he sends it to the Paramount Chief. He has the power to punish people with a flogging. Public floggings still happen often, usually to out of control youngsters. There is also a specific etiquette and conduct that must be observed when attending a Kgotla meeting and when interacting with a Kgosi. Women are not allowed to show their arms, dresses must be below the knee and married women must cover their heads with a head scarf. Before we went into the offices, I tied a scarf around my shoulders to cover my arms since I had on a sleeveless dress. My dress fortunately reached just below my knees. When speaking to them, the operative word is respect.

We were seated in the office of the first Kgosi. The ‘we’ included my colleague in the Fulbright program, the tour guide from the Ministry of Education, Ms. Edna our transport specialist and a staff person from the museum. It was during this meeting that one of the negative aspects of Botswana escalated to the fullest. The colonized mind. For the entire trip, our guide addressed any and all information and conversation to my White colleague. It started as soon as we were on the road. I tried to inform him that the historical information that he had to give was of as much interest and relevance to my research project as it was to my colleague's. This did not deter his focus upon her. I have heard of whites receiving privilege in Botswana (and other countries in Africa) over other Black people. Now, it was happening to me. Our guide had been treating me disrespectfully and making inappropriate comments to me for the whole trip. I chose to overlook his behavior so I could enjoy myself (and keep the peace.) However, I could not overlook the racial discrimination that he demonstrated towards me during our meeting with the Kgosi.  He was the one doing the talking (in Setswana) and was in control of all information given to the Kgosi. He chose to focus the entire meeting on my White colleague. He told the Kgosi about her research project and behaved as if I was not even in the room. I mean, who did the Kgosi think I was…her maid? This same kind of thing happened to me in India. But I did not expect it to happen in my own homeland. I was hot. I do not remember being so angry in a long time. But I had to keep my decorum. Once the Kgosi stepped out, I asked the guide if he had told the Kgosi about my research. He said ‘No,’ and claimed it was because this chief was not the one who we were here to see. Of course this explanation made no sense. The man had been showing his racial bias for the entire trip. Now I have to handle this situation. (To be continued)

President Seretse Khama with wife, Ruth Williams Khama

A Reflection -  I have noticed that people here in Botswana seem to worship people of European descent. These men idealize European women. And as they do so, they clearly despise themselves. In tandem, these folks worship the United States. Euro-Americans from the United States. People of European descent are perceived as more knowledgeable, more valuable and more beautiful. There is nothing more ugly than the colonized mind. Is this the effect of settler colonialism? Perhaps. However, I think it goes deeper than that for Batswana...back to the decisions of the first president. In defiance of his cultural traditions and the wishes of his uncle, who was a regent paramount chief, Seretse Khama married an English secretary named Ruth while he was in law school in England. Custom dictated that he marry a Motswana woman from another royal family. All kinds of people fall in love. However, it seems that the brother was color struck. And if the father of the nation prefers European over Black, then those actions set the standard for the citizenry to follow. More about him later.

This was not my experience in Ghana. I was welcomed by the chief of the town that we lived in, not rejected. I was made a member of the village, through ceremony, along with the other African  - Americans. Not ignored in favor of a Euro-American counterpart. And it wasn’t really the Kgosi’s fault, necessarily (although he did say some outrageous things to my colleague about how Botswana has benefited from "whites" and the British. Hmm... what does a history teacher from the United States have to do with that?) The guide of the trip engineered for the meeting to go down like it did. But fortunately, I can continue with the redeeming part of the story.

Burial ground of the Bangwato Paramount Chiefs

Ariel view of Serowe

Climbing up Serowe hill to the burial site of the chiefs

We met with a second and third Kgosi. After a brief discussion, and invitation to come back, the second Kgosi said “Now go see where our fathers are buried.” The first Kgosi, took us up a very high and steep hill. He stopped every so often to share information. He spoke in Setswana and the staff person from the museum translated in English. I think he also stopped to allow us to catch our breath. When Serowe was established as the capitol of the Bangwato in 1902 by Khama III, he chose the location because it was easy to defend. The capitol before, Shoshong, was also situated on a high hill. At the very top is a spectacular rock formation. Huge red boulders stacked upon each other. Only God could create such a formation. Once we reached the top, we slipped through black wrought iron gates and quietly entered into a stone - paved court yard. It was a burial site for the all of the Bangwato paramount chiefs since 1902. Large burial stones marked the resting place of each chief and his wife. From the top of this small mountain there was a panoramic view of all of Serowe. Large mountains provided a majestic backdrop for the landscape. Kgosi asked one of us to pray and I volunteered. As he shared more history I noticed Kgosi looking at me with interest. It was like he was inspecting me  - my face, my hair and my body. Kgosi is old enough to be my grandfather, so I know it was nothing inappropriate.  Finally, he said to me that it was so good that other Africans (like me) came to visit. He guided our group to each tomb stone. He showed me the totem of the Bangwato nation - the same little deer that I saw in Nxai Pan National Park. I don't remember the name. He asked me what my totem was. I said since many African - Americans have been historically Christian, it might be the dove. (I thought about another of our totems after-the-fact, which I will share in later reflections.) Kgosi had me stand in front and read each burial stone out loud in English and Setswana. I have no photos other than what I have found online. I am sure you can guess that asking permission to take pictures simply was not appropriate. Sereste Khama and Ruth Khama were buried side by side. Ms. Edna said with great affection “she is our mother.”

A Reflection – To be honest with you, I think that Sereste Khama’s marriage to Ruth has confused Batswana identity. How could they even deal with mental colonialism, as Kwame Nkrumah did in Ghana, when the leader might have been subject to it? Now, Batswana are calling her their 'mother,' while  placing a premium on European physicality. Confusion indeed.

Dikgafela Harvest Ceremony

Kgosi basically treated me like his grand - daughter who had come to visit. He treated me like an African – American returning to the homeland. His kindness and attitude helped to dull the pain of the earlier insult. As we walked back down the hill, he held my hand so I would not slip and fall. We walked through the rest of the compound where he showed us large silos used to store staple foods for times of famine. There are five for the whole of Serowe and two separate silos for royals.  In Setswana culture, there is a special harvest ceremony called Dikgafela, with its own special songs. Women bring in a basket or clay pot full of sorghum or maize meal from their harvest and lay it at the feet of the chief while singing. The Batswana have a very powerful choral tradition. They sing with full voices and in full harmony. It is spectacular to hear. We also gathered leaves for making Mosukujane Tea, growing wildly along the path where we walked. I have it in a bag in the kitchen and I still have to try it.

In spite of a younger Kgosi who barely greeted me, with no eye contact, but wholeheartedly greeted my Euro-American colleague and asked her to bring engineers next time to fix their roads (Hmm... what does a history teacher from the United States have to do with that?), our visit ended on a pleasant note. We departed with plans to return this Friday. Stay tuned for more!