Good Omens

“I’ve become such a soft guy!” A close friend admitted to me a couple of weeks ago, before my departure for PE. So have I actually. The XX in my ears and eating so little meat over the past couple of weeks, I never imagined this happening to me in my time Cape Town. I guess having dated vegetarians has a strange way of catching up to you.

An ox is not a small animal. It’s pretty massive in real life and when you know that the time is coming when you’re going to have to play a hand in its killing, well let’s just say, I still get scared shitless every time. The beasts’ sacrifice is intertwined with receiving the ancestral blessing for the changeover. Ancestral blessings are an important part of our culture and all major decisions rest on those departed souls. Whilst we believe in our ancestors and seek guidance from them, religion still plays a big part in the role of most families. The two belief systems are not mutually exclusive. I myself am not religious and have noted this to my parents, I still respect the fact that they are. It simply doesn’t make sense to me. I still see our colonial past as having too much influence over our beliefs. In a book called Time Longer Than Rope, Edward Roux tried to interrogate this aspect of our history, drawing out compelling references that I found to be more than satisfactory at the tender and impressionable age of 15. Maybe it's strand of anger I should let go.

The ox’s arrival went more than smoothly to say the least. The beast got off the truck ,went to its post and was tied up without hassle. This is seen as a good omen. With celebratory ceremonies comes liquor namely; Umqomboti and brandy. Yep it gets real! In its demeanor the ox resembled my late grandmother and the women of the house given the task to name him, named him after her. Cool, calm and collected she was my grandmother. Wezile was the ox.