Iziqaxaci and Djembes

09/28/11, 3:35 p.m.

                Molo! Hello! I swear I’m going to return insisting that I’ve lived in South Africa my whole life with how quickly I’m absorbing the culture. I think easily in 24-hour time (it’s actually 15:35), traffic lights are robots (and the one at the major intersection in Khayelitsha has been out for over a week now), I know how to do the South African handshake with grownups and affectionate thumb flick with children, and I eagerly drink up all the “Cultural and Learning Activities” that CCS plans for us.

Yesterday I had my second Xhosa lesson and we finally addressed everyone’s favorite subject: the clicks. The word for “clicks” in Xhosa is “iziqaxaci,” which actually has all three clicks in it—q, x, and c. To get the q sounds, you place the tip of your tongue at the front of your palate and raise your tongue into your palate. Then, withdraw your tongue with a sucking movement, producing a sound like the popping of a cork. Words like “ukuqubuda” (to worship) and “uqaqaqa” (grass) are especially fun to say. You get the c sound by placing the tip of the tongue behind your top front teeth. Now withdraw your tongue with a sucking movement, producing a “tutting” sound, like when your grandmother is disappointed in you. That’s used in words like “nceda” (please) or “ukucacisa” (to explain). And then there’s x. Raise your tongue so that its sides come into contact with your back teeth. Now withdraw your tongue with a sucking movement. That’s the sound you use in the word Xhosa, or “xakekile” (busy) or “Ndifuna ukuxukuxa” (I want to rinse my mouth). Try this q tongue twister: “Iqaqa laziqika-qika kuqaqaqa laqhawuka uqhoqhoqho.” It literally means, “The skunk rolled on the grass and broke its windpipe,” and according to 69-year-old Maggie, “For all I’m concerned the skunk gets all it deserves.” I know this mini-lesson is a bit (nay, a lot) like the blind leading the blind, but it’s a really fun language that’s unlike anything with which you come in contact in America. I was the first to get the clicks down, which I attribute to spending so much time focusing on and strengthening my tongue with flute.

Another area where music experience seemed to help was the African drumming lesson we had this afternoon after lunch. Our teacher, who learned from drumming masters in Mali, sat us all in a circle and gave us each a small djembe. We learned about the different “notes” (the bass and the higher tone are your two options) and she taught us several ostinato rhythm patterns, some calls that are used to start and end drumming phrases, and a couple variations on a drum break, which breaks up the basic beat. Usually the teacher has an assistant that keeps the beat going when she teaches the solo line, but she was by herself today so I got the honor of being the one person in the room doing something else for awhile. My hands were red and warm afterwards but it was invigorating. It’s no wonder that the Malian djembe masters live well into their 90s and beyond.

I feel totally at home in these customs and traditions, which is probably the reason why I actually haven’t felt much culture shock since arriving here. I can’t wait to eat lunch in Bo Kaap (formerly the Cape Malay quarter) tomorrow, where we’ll be touring the mostly Muslim section of the city because they are descendents of Southeast Asian slaves. The food here is great (I love me some samp and beans) but I’m ready to get my curry on. Next week we tour the District 6 museum with CCS and eat lunch in a township. I believe as side trips the volunteers are planning outings to a local winery and the prison where Nelson Mandela was kept for 18 of his 27-year imprisonment, Robben Island—both musts for the Cape Town experience. It’s a great combination of feeling like this is one long vacation, but at the same time I feel like I have a purpose here with my work and I’m not just a tourist. I’m accustomed to feeling like a nomad and living out of a suitcase all the time, but I definitely feel like this is somewhere I belong.

Alright, as the amaXhosa say, “Ixesha lixhatshwe yinja,” which literally translates to “Time has been lapped up by the dog,” or poetically to “Time’s up!” Sala kakuhle! Goodbye!