February 22nd, 2012
"The Bushmen used to say their angry Hyena-god punished the Baobab by planting it upside down so that its roots reach up to sky and can't drink water" Zwhanga said as he describes the hallmark of the arid Limpopo basin. As the caretaker of the luxury camp I was staying at on the edge of Venda land's Levuhu River, he knows them well: "But we used them long ago to bury our wise old men, so that their stories would never go underground".
Despite Zwhanga's best efforts, I found myself slightly disappointed by my visit to the Limpopo province. Not because of the places I visited, but because I had unwittingly followed in his ancestral footpath for the past week and not known of the rich histories and myths that each of the stops visited contained. At least now on the second last day of my trip I was fortunate enough to have met Zwhanga, who was helping me lift the veil I felt our group leader, ‘Oom Johan', had cast.
"The land of a thousand streams" as it is also known is nestled in the north-eastern nook of the Limpopo province. The territory was traditionally wedged between the Limpopo River to the north, the Levuhu River to the east and the Soutpansberg Mountain range to the west and south-west before being absorbed into the union of South Africa all those years ago. The Soutpansberg Mountains have been compared to the Superstition Mountains in the United States because of the haunted forests and water spirits that are said to inhabit them.
The mighty Baobab
Image by Ehrard Vermaak
Stories I had known nothing about when I set out on my journey with an old friend's family. From Pretoria we would make our way to Mapungubwe before heading to the land of the Venda. I first met Oom Johan in the early hours of the morning at my friend's house just before we set off.
He was friendly enough and very knowledgeable, but it became clear from the get go that this would be strictly a 4x4 holiday for him. "It is important to radio our locations at all time. We are driving in convoy of four cars so we need to maintain our distance and our speed."
"Luckily, we are driving in our own car" I whispered to my friend.
A little while into the four hour drive, I relaxed into a nap. When I would later open my eyes the first thing I would see was the ancient Baobab that dominated the gate of Mapungubwe National Park.
"Mapungubwe", Zwangha would later tell me, "was the first home of my ancestors. One thousand years ago, the great kingdom traded gold and ivory with places like China and India. They then moved to Great Zimbabwe when the area no longer provided for them".
For most South Africans in the know, Mapungubwe is the ultimate South African archaeological site. As a bit of an ancient history nut, I had hoped for years to come here. To my embarrassment, when we were finally standing overlooking the famed hill the next day, I realised I didn't know much about the actual history of the sight.
"They say it was the most advanced civilization in the area. But it is impossible that these people could have traded with empires like Persia or China. What was more likely was that foreigners settled here" Oom Johan answered my query. When I consulted the UNESCO signboard on site, I learnt that Oom Johan wasn't the only one with this opinion:
For years the truth of Mapungubwe was kept a secret by the devil of our country's recent past, the Apartheid government. On New Year's Eve in 1932, a farmer and his son stumbled upon a rich cache of artefacts on the Mapungubwe hill. The glint of gold and clear signs of a large settlement warranted a call to the University of Pretoria.
After extensive digging, the University was ordered in to silence because the idea of an advanced civilization didn't fit into the regime's outlook of the ‘inferior natives'. Fortunately in 2003, an architect found a box of the unearthed treasure in the bowels of the University. The famed golden rhino in the box and other hallmarks of the ancient culture placed Mapungubwe right back on the map.
What Oom Johan did manage to get right was the identification of the Apartheid army camp that once occupied the hill next to the archaeological site. The boulders in the area are covered in out-of-place coats of arms paintings of the different regiments. "Were they really trying that hard to keep Mapungubwe a secret?" I wondered aloud.
Remnants of the past
Image by Ehrard Vermaak
Issues of racial politics aside, Mapungubwe National Park was still breathtaking for its natural beauty. Looking out over the confluence of the Limpopo and Shashe Rivers from thousands of meters above the valley, where South Africa, Botswana and Zimbabwe meet, I was reminded of Rudyard Kipling's description of the "great grey-green greasy Limpopo river, all done up with fever trees".
Although picturesque, I don't know if I would have cast it in such a fertile light. The late September afternoon displayed only the red hue of savannah dust, desperate for rain. When we dropped drops of water onto the stones below scores of lizards would leave the respite from the shade in between the boulders to lap up any bit of the precious liquid they could find.
"Water in the Venda tradition is very important" Zwhanga would tell me a few days later, as we look out over the Levuhu River that was much fuller than the dry Limpopo.
"It is probably why the Shona People moved here from Great Zimbabwe to Dzadta, and started to learn the secrets of the mountain forests".
In the heat, water was definitely an issue. Fortunately enough, after Mapungubwe, our next camping spot was at a fountain. The water it pushed out made its way out of the hill in a series of sparkling shaded pools, one cascading into the next.
Home of the spirits?
Image by Ehrard Vermaak
When I would tell Zwangha that fishes ate at our feet later that week, he would reply and say we were lucky that we met kind spirits! "No man" I insisted, "they were just eating our dead skin cells. Some people pay hundreds of rands to let that happen. We got it for free!" Zwangha laughed. "Zwidutwane (water spirits) live at the bottom of waterfalls. If you saw beer or food lying on the side, someone appeased them that day".
The thought of some spirit eating at my feet send shivers down my spine. Luckily I didn't know! "Is that why we weren't allowed to go to the magic lake the next day?
Because of spirits?" I demanded.
"You mean Fundudzi?"
I nodded, "I think so."
"Only royalty is allowed there. It is where earth and heaven meet. The spirits don't always like visitors. So I hope you showed your respect" Zwangha teased.
Thinking back to it, I remembered Oom Johan's voice. "Ag, the story goes that once a year a virgin is sacrificed to please ‘the gods' to a white crocodile" Oom Johan sighed out the answer when I asked him why the lake was sacred.
"For some reason we need permission to go see it. Stupid". At that stage, I was just one of the many tourists who come here, uninformed and unaccompanied, who leave wondering, was that it? Thank goodness for Zwangha!
"So what is the story then?"
Because the lake never runs dry, Zwangha explained, it is seen as the only place where the waters of creation didn't recede. In actual fact, the lake was created by a landslide and the valley traps the water of a river that only skids across it, keeping it full all year round. As the pool of Raluvhimba, the creator, it was very sacred.
One day a man mourning for his wife, walked into the lake to drown himself. Taking pity on him, the spirits of the lake turned him into a giant white python, as a symbol of love and fertility. To appease him, young women from all over the kingdom gather on the banks of the lake to honour him by performing the Domba dance, in which they form a kind of conga line, and writhe their arms like a snake.
"What about the white crocodile then?" I asked confused by Oom Johan's earlier story.
"The white crocodile is one of our ancestors. He is a Zwidutwane. Long ago, he still required human wives, so he would take human form and go visit them. One day, one of his wives followed him and was so mortified by what she saw she gave out a loud shriek."
Because he could never return to the human world, there was a terrible drought. So the desperate wife offered herself in exchange for rain.
The magical lake Fundudzi
Image by Ehrard Vermaak
"Each year, a virgin was sent into the lake to pour some beer on the water to try and appease the spirits" Zwangha continued. "If it sank and was accepted, it would be a good year's harvest. But! If it floated, the virgin girl had to be pulled out fast or the crocodile would eat her and make her his new wife. In the old days, the girl would simply disappear."
After spending days in the dry heat of the lowland, I could understand why there would be such a concern over rain. In comparison, the forests and lakes of the highlands really were otherworldly.
After visiting Lake Fundudzi we made our way to what Oom Johan called the Holy Forest. The Thate Vondo forest was, even before Zwangha would fill in the gaps when I met him, otherworldly. As we climbed the hills that left Fundudzi, the landscape was blanketed in a thick mist.
We were welcomed to the forest by a strict sign ordering us to stick to the path. As we proceeded, we could only see the age old yellowwoods and ferns that filled the luxuriant hill on which the path was built.
As we proceeded cautiously we started to make out the silhouettes of a few shrouded figures. We decided to turn off our car, so as not to cause an accident. In the austere silence, only broken by the calm chatter of forest birds, a herd of cattle approached bringing an eerie noise with them. The rhythmic ringing of the bells around their neck, coupled by their ghostly calls made for all the mythic magic of ancient faith. It was like these cows were chanting!
What's that!
Image by Ehrard Vermaak
When I would later tell Zwangha, he explained that the forest was the burial grounds of the greatest kings. He told me of the first king Dimbanyika:
One day while exploring his new kingdom he got stuck in a cave. His dog managed to escape and went to call his oldest son, Thohoyandou - after whom the largest village in the area is named today. Thohoyandou could not free his father, so Dimbanyika asked him instead to promise him that he would unite all the tribes in the area. Thohoyandou was successful and is remembered as the greatest of the Venda rulers.
"Thohoyandou literally means ‘Head of the Elephant'," Zwanga said, "that is why we say ‘nda ndou' when we say hello. It means hello Elephant!" Today his spirit guards the forest in the form of a white lion.
After Zwangha had closed his office I walked back to my tent where the others were braaing. I was ready to tell everyone what Zwanga had told me, including that know it all Oom Johan. Just before I went inside, I looked at the huge Baobab that stood sentry at the entrance of the camp.
Image by Ehrard Vermaak
How fitting I thought it was that the Limpopo tourist office would take the Baobab as its symbol. It was as if they were telling visitors "Come look past the surface - you might find a treasure trove of stories".
Maybe I wouldn't be too hard on old Oom Johan. I mean after all, it was his 4x4 skills that got us to all these legendary places safe in the first place!
