A Venda Lesson

The following is dedicated to my mother and brought to you by my Venda tutor, who has lived in the area all his life, seems to know about Venda culture and traditions, and is ambiguously affiliated with politics to an extent that makes him seem more (not less) trustworthy. (There’s a disclaimer on a disclaimer, for you).

Words

• Shenga: (n.) a baby who is born with his top teeth in or whose top teeth develop first. Traditionally, it was thought that such babies will grow up abnormal (he was vague on how). To correct this problem, the parents toss the baby off the rondaveld’s thatched roof into a basket filled with water a couple times.
• Kigolis: (n.) Male sex workers from Nigeria. I took down this in my notes: “Business women don’t have husbands so they go to kigolis”
• Via: (v.) literally, to skin or operate; common usage: to ritually murder. Back in the day, local chiefs would regularly snatch up folks for use of their body parts to make muti [(n.) magic ingredients, especially body parts etc.]. According to my tutor, it was not uncommon for human heads to be found under the stoop of the chief’s kraal [(n.) a bunch of rondavelds that constitute one property/household]. You could use a person’s lip for commercial purposes: hide a piece at the entry of your business and it calls to customers. Should you be a criminal, leg blood smeared on your own legs might help you keep from getting caught. This actually still goes on. My Venda tutor suspects that it only accounts for a death a year, but I have heard some people fretting about traveling alone in certain areas because they fear ritual killing. Recently, it was discovered a bishop had committed ritual murder. That did actually get quite a bit of coverage in the local newspaper.
• Fula: (v.) to have your eye twitch. The top eye twitching means you’ll get something you want; lower eye twitch means you’ll cry about something and/or mourn.
• Mudzadze: (n.) my dictionary writes: recently confined woman. My tutor explained that it is a woman who has given birth within the last three months and is not permitted to leave the home lest she be molested

Choice Idioms

Vhana vha wela tshivhasoni – literally: the children dive for the fire place
means: there is hunger

Kholomo u peta voho – literally: the cow’s leg bends
means: to smoke pot

U bata nzhie – literally: s/he grabs at locusts
means: s/he is not a normal person

Dunzi lo fhufha – literally: the big fly has flown
means: to recover from illness

U bika nga khulu literally: to cook a lot
means: there has been a death

Names

My name is Azwifarwi, which means Don’t Touch/Mess With. Avhasei is pretty common – it means Don’t Laugh. Mpandeli means A Person Who Drives Off Others

Having said all that, let’s keep in mind that every language has its eccentricities. (Like Chastity. Come on: parents who name their kid chastity are either huge fans of irony or raging hypocrites). And to be on the lamb... from where did that come?

Props to Steve and Caz for putting me in touch with this wonderful man.

In Defense of Privatized Health Care (or How I Made Schainker Cream Himself)

I recently missed a day of work due to illness.

Upon my return the next day, I was asked by my coworkers whether or not I had seen the doctor. I replied that I hadn’t, that I had instead spent the day resting. This explanation met with a knowing smirk.

Clinics are scattered throughout South Africa that provide free basic healthcare services to anyone who walks in. As a result, most people drop in to the clinic if they start to exhibit any symptoms of illness. Someone insinuated that it is more or less standard practice to bring a clinic note if you take sick leave. Another coworker commented that a lot of people will drop by clinics just to get a note even when they take the day to go to a job interview.

In America, as any visit to your healthcare provider is likely to result in a gouging, we generally wait a couple days on our illnesses to see if bed rest won’t clear up the problem. 99% of the time it does (or at least for me – but you know, I’m from good stock).

So I started thinking about the situation here: every time a member of the community has a mild cough, achy muscles or a job interview, they drop by the clinic – because there is no financial disincentive to going. These clinics are operated by the Department of Health and most definitely have finite budgets. As a result, a given number of clinic personnel with a given stash of medical resources have to divvy their time up between a large number of patients whose symptoms range from critical to nonexistent. To be honest, I cannot speak to the quality of service clinics provide as I have not visited one. But. I would venture a guess. That will not be posted. Because they’re watching.