Stephen Eric Mabaso Dladla Gwamanda Buthelezi Odegard

For the first time in my life, I spent Christmas with complete strangers. 

I take that back: two days before Christmas they were complete strangers, but by December 25^th they were family. 

Perhaps some back story would be appropriate.  Back in October, one of my friends and co-workers invited me to spend the holidays with her family in Bergville, KZN.  I was delighted to accept, and was looking forward to visiting.  About two weeks before Christmas, however, I learned that my friend would not be able to join me in Bergville, as she needed to spend Christmas in Durban with another relative who had recently lost her mother.

Somewhat apprehensively, I began the trip north for Christmas a few days later.  After taking five different taxis, I made it to Estcourt, where my friend’s mother was waiting to take me to Bergville.  When I arrived, I found myself in the midst of the largest family homestead I had ever visited.  I soon learned that the cluster of buildings I was staying in was the home of three brothers and their families.  The brothers had moved back to their childhood home after retiring, and had reestablished their families in Bergville within 200 meters of each other.  Each home had around 3 buildings, so there were people everywhere.  In addition, more family members lived in homes within 1 km of homestead.  Like many places, there was an influx of family members for the holidays, which added to the confusion.  Between crying babies, excited kids, students returning from boarding school, and their various aunts, uncles, and grandparents, I was overwhelmed.  I didn’t even learn the surname of my hosts until the second day I stayed with them: it turns out my assumption that they would share the same surname of my co-worker was incorrect. 

The notion of family in South Africa, or at least near Umphumulo, astounds me.  Sometimes it seems that everyone I meet is a member of half a dozen families, all with different surnames, homes, children, and stories.  My hosts introduce their family members to me as brothers and sisters or mothers and fathers, not as step-brothers, cousins, nieces, sisters-in-law, friends, neighbors, or co-workers.  Any time I meet a new family, my brain feebly struggles to connect the dots.  As much as I try to figure out whose gogo is whose and who is a baba and who is a bhuthi, within a few minutes I’m lost.  When I ask questions, it often takes my hosts a few moments to trace someone back to his or her parents or children.  Like I said, families astound me. 

After spending a little less than four months in South Africa, I have been welcomed as a son by at least four families.  I spent a weekend with the Dladla clan, celebrating the wedding of one of their daughters.  The Gwamanda family welcomed me into their home for the Christmas holidays, and the Buthelezi and Mabaso families have made me feel at home in Umphumulo since the day I arrived.  All told, this network of people who have embraced me into their family fold easily tops 200. 

Much has been written about ubuntu, the principle that shapes communities here in South Africa, and I think that I have begun to realize why it is such a popular topic.  Ubuntu, which can be interpreted “I am because we are” or “A person is a person through other people,” is at the very core of the South African sense of family.  A family is defined by all its members, and is made unique by each of their contributions.  Each person in that family is, in turn, formed as much by the family itself as his or her own individuality.  As a result, it’s incredibly important for individuals to belong to a community.   Perhaps this partly explains why so many people have gone to great lengths to make me a part of their families here in Umphumulo.  That and the fact that so many of my hosts are quite simply incredibly generous and hospitable.  Either way, I’ve been greatly blessed to be in the presence of so many brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers during my time away from my own.