THP Program Launch

I am way overdue for a post. The past few weeks have been kinda bonkers. I'll tell you why.

Two weeks ago, iTEACH held an event to officially launch the Traditional Healer Practitioner Integration Initiative, hosting over 100 traditional healers, about 50 VIP guests, all of iTEACH, and whoever happened to wander in. That's a lot of people, which means a lot of preparation – programs, guest badges, decorations – and a lot of food and drink. Deli, Sandile and Thobe sorted out the logistics, like coordinating with the chief, sourcing marquees and livestock and making giant barrels of mqombothi (Zulu beer), while I took care of the crafty stuff.

Each night during the week leading up to the launch, I parked myself on the floor of Krista's living room and set to work folding paper, laminating badges, tying bows, bending wire and manipulating goat fur (yep, goat fur). Thankfully, Mary and Thando were there to help. Coffee and brownies were there to help too.

 Stick village, originally created for Z's wedding

Mary, Thando and Me finishing the programs, 150 in total

In addition to the (somewhat) typical event preparations, there were also traditional matters to sort out. The weekend before the launch, Makhosi Mamela held a ritual slaughter in her home to officially kick off the festivities. (That is where the chickens and goat #1 from this post met their fate). Goat #2 and two cows were slaughtered the night before the launch. I documented this process – a grizzly task for a gentle vegetarian. Fair warning, the pictures below don't leave much to the imagination.

First, the goat. He was easy. And there was lots of singing and dancing.

Thando looks on as the goat is bled out

Then came the cows, which were much bigger. And they had just witnessed the iTEACH makhosis kill a goat. Needless to say, they did not go down easily. While Mr. Zulu tried to coax them toward the front of the truck bed, within killing range, cow #2 escaped. Luckily (for us), the event grounds are surrounded by a high fence; the only exits were quickly blocked by vehicles. (Our haste was dually felt by the Vito's shattered back window.) With cow #2 out of the truck, hiding in the opposite corner of the event grounds, the men closed in on cow #1. Makhosi Ngidi climbed up onto the side of the truck and drove a knife into #1's head, just behind his ears. He continued to do this until the cow dropped and stopped moving and crying. It was brutal.

Once #1 was good and dead, the men dragged him out of the truck and started cutting him apart. The speed and practiced technique with which they operated was extraordinary. I was so absorbed in the mechanics of the operation that I didn't feel at all uneasy about the blood and guts. It was strangely captivating.

As the body of the cow was broken down, parts were carried off and stored in a portable cold room. And the local police were called to come and take care of #2, the runaway. We didn't think she could be caught, so the plan was for an armed policeman to shoot her in the head from a distance. This did not pan out. #2 was tough and our policeman was a horrible shot. Fed up, the chief's son stepped in. He and a handful of other men lassoed #2, tied her to a post and did the deed.

Thando and makhosis look on as #2 caught

By the time the second cow was finally dead, the sun had sunk far below the horizon. But there was still work to be done. Some of the meat and jeqe (bread cooked with meat) had to be cooked, the marquees weren't complete and chairs had to be set out. And I had to finish making programs. It was hard to leave. As soon as it was full dark, the event grounds and the activities taking place there took on a new life. It was eerie and beautiful. With the darkness and cold nighttime air came a strong sense of gravity and purpose. We were preparing for something very important.

The grounds

Portable coldroom

Event marquee

Sometime in the middle of the night I woke to the sound of a heavy downpour and strong wind. In that brief state of consciousness my only thought was, "Shit. The marquee." When I arrived at the event grounds in the morning, the storm had indeed taken out the marquee and the 100+ chairs set up inside, and everything was wet, including the air. A new, much smaller marquee was erected – chairs spilling out the back – and the launch commenced hours after the planned start time – but the show did go on. The wet weather and tiny tent didn't seem to bother the traditional healers though; they were thrilled to be at the event, decked out in beads, cow tails in hand.

Sia, Sma and Mr. Zulu trying to stay dry

The iTEACH team did a fantastic job of hosting. Sandile (DJ Sweety) kept the music going while Deli, the MC, gracefully moved the event along through rain, wind and a near upheaval of the marquee. Speeches were delivered, songs were sung, and there was much cheering. After the initiative was introduced by Zinny and Makhosi Msomi and selected VIP guests echoed its significance, the healers were individually recognized. One by one, they filed up toward the stage where Deli announced their name and training achievements and Zinny wrapped them with a blanket, signifying their "graduation" from the iTEACH training program. The excitement and joy inside the marquee was electric. Behind the camera, I was grinning from ear to ear.

Finally, after the procession of THP graduates, it was time to eat. And in KwaZulu Natal, that means meat. The three animals that were killed the night before did not go to waste – not a single part. All of it was either eaten there or taken home. (If you look closely at the pictures below, you should be able to spot a nose.) While the VIPs enjoyed a sit-down meal, catered by the chiefs wife, the rest of the party helped themselves to freshly cooked meat and bread, delivered in giant pots onto the biggest cutting board I have ever seen.

Okay, it wasn't a giant cutting board; it was more like a big piece of plywood. But it was a big piece of plywood covered in meat. In addition to beef by the bucketful, a second catering crew handed out styrofoam containers packed with samp and beans, curried chicken and tripe. (At this point, I was wishing I had brought granola bar.) And mqombothi was scooped out of the barrel in a big pitcher and passed around to whomever wanted a sip. It was a feast to behold.

Rain, wind, soaking wet ground, runaway cow – none of mattered. The event was a success and the healers were ebullient. And most importantly, the Traditional Healer Practitioner Integration Initiative had officially launched. Makhosi!

The next day, I packed up and got on a plane to Seattle. I'll save that for a later post...