Today, my son, you become a man

I have now completed my first week in Warrenton and Ikhutseng, and I don’t think I’m any the worse for wear.  As most of you know, last Monday was my birthday, and it caused me to reflect on the fact that there is no mistaking that I am now well and truly an adult.  My childhood has receded to the history shelves and will never be passed through again.

With these ruminations, I think it appropriate to make note of an interesting conversation that took place at my house over the weekend.  On Friday, several of the teachers came over to my place for a braai, which is like the South African equivalent of a cookout or barbecue.  Like in the states, it consists of beef and booze, as much a man’s paradise here as it is back home.  Given that it was an all male affair, as the meat was sizzling and the beer was flowing, the topic of conversation became that of initiation.

Initiation is a kind of coming-of-age ritual in South Africa where young men are taken to an isolated location by the elders of a community, taught all the things they need to know about being a man, and then duly circumcised.  Before I go any further, I need to throw out a disclaimer.  Considering that I am talking about circumcision in this post, the words that follow are not for the faint of heart.  Don’t keep reading if you can’t handle a topic that is by its nature somewhat graphic.  Ok, for those of you bold souls still reading, let’s continue.

As you can imagine, it was quite interesting to sit and listen to the various African men talk about their own initiation, how other tribes conduct it, and how much the process meant and still means to them. The actual cutting of the foreskin (it felt really weird to type those words) and subsequent recuperation are all done without any modern medicine tools or implements.  During their recuperation, the young men are looked after by the elders, with traditional herbs and ointments offered to help healing.  No hospital and no anesthetic.  Perhaps, the look on my face worried them, so it was countered that there is actually now a product made in China being used in some locations that somewhat mechanizes the procedure while improving safety and efficiency.  I decided to just take their word for it.  

When I inquired as to the sanitation of the whole thing, even the Africans acknowledged the techniques are not altogether antiseptic, with the same tool being used to perform the “surgery” on all the participants without any cleaning or sterilization.  The men stated only half-jokingly, that for this reason, you always hope that you are the first in line because you can at least guarantee that the blade is somewhat clean.  Also, speaking of the tool with which the deed is done, it apparently varies according to tribe and location.  I was speaking with Tswana and Xhosa men who said a knife is used, but they said that Zulus use an actual spear.  I shuddered a bit to think of a man coming towards my cash and prizes with a weapon otherwise used to hunt and kill.

I also asked if any complications such as infection ever occur given that blood and cutting that are present.  The men responded that yes, bad things do happen, and that young men do sometimes die as a result.  I was assured that this was mainly, though, because the people who carry out the initiation today are not nearly as trained and experienced as the elders who ran the show in past generations.

But enough about science and sanitation.  Initiation is apparently about much more than just circumcision.  It is really a training session on how to be a man with the circumcision simply representing the final step from adolescence to manhood.  All of the men I was with spoke quite glowingly of their experiences.  They said that obviously it’s not something that they would ever want to repeat, but that now that they have done it, they’re glad that they did.  They said that once you have passed the trials of the initiation, not only do you feel pride in yourself for having been able to make it, you also feel a bond with others who went through the same thing not to mention new respect that is given to you by the community.  My friends said that once the ordeal is over, you do truly feel like you are now a man.

Listening to all of this, I, of course, did not like the part about the complete lack of modern medical procedure, but I could relate to why they place so much importance on the ceremony.  What they were saying to me is exactly how I felt and do feel about two-a-days for sports and pledgeship for fraternities.  They absolutely suck while you’re going through them, but they engender self-respect because it takes a certain amount of fortitude to not quit.  After the fact, there is a pleasant sense of satisfaction as well as a common bond with others who also endured and conquered the challenge.

The interesting thing is that the men I was with, like I said, all felt that initiation had been a pivotal part of their life, yet they admitted that they probably would not have their sons do the same.  They said that things are not the same as they were in the past and that they do not have faith in the people that carry out the process anymore.  They also recognize that the lack of hygiene and access to modern medicine is a problem.  For those reasons, the men said they will most likely take their sons to hospital for the procedure.  Regrettably so, it was acknowledged, but they noted that the world is changing and Africa must change with it.