A tipping point

I keep trying to shrink how long it takes to get moving in a new project site, but once again, things start really happening about one week after I hit the ground. For the first few days I was in South Africa, I was pretty despondent. All my contacts were melting away, and I wasn't sure how I was going to spend a whole month in Kwa-Zulu Natal. Then, slowly, things started gathering some momentum. Today was a real tipping point.

I drove down to Durban this morning from Pietermaritzburg. I had hopes of meeting Brother Clement, a Benedictine missionary who is my main contact for indigenous vocal music and Zulu mouth bow. I spent last week trying to pin down exactly when he was coming down to Durban, and our last conversation left me pretty confident he would be there today. I also wanted to pay an actual physical visit to the music department of the University of Kwa-Zulu Natal. In a week of calling, I hadn't gotten anyone to pick up a phone once.

There was another shaky lead I had-- the leader of an isicathamiya group who lives in Port Shepstone (about 2 hours down the coast from Durban) had told me he might be coming up to Durban sometime this week. I said if he did, I would go back to Port Shepstone and spend some time with him there. However, I had no reason to think this would actually happen soon.

Up until 3PM, I still had nothing to go on. I was sitting in my new backpackers' hostel, still waiting for a call from Brother Clement. I'd texted him around noon, with no reply. Finally, I risked being rude and called him again. Success! He says he's at the university, and I should meet him there. I navigate the labyrinth of little curly streets around the university campus and let him know I've made it. He says he'll come meet me at the main gate. Half an hour later, as I'm getting nervous and discouraged, he shows up. We talk for a while, and I make plans to return to his mission in Vryheid tomorrow.

On my way home, I get a text. The isicathamiya leader from Port Shepstone is in Durban! I make it home (after missing my turn twice and swearing out loud at Durban's crazy roads) and give him a call. He wants to know if I want to go to Port Shepstone tomorrow. I tell him I'm headed in the other direction, but ask if I can come meet him tonight. He gives me directions. In theory, the place he's staying should be about 15km outside the city. It turns out to be in one of those crazy areas that were zoned African under apartheid and thus have decrepit, poorly marked roads. It takes me the better part of an hour and several phone calls to finally find him. It's worth it, as he is a wonderfully knowledgable and well-spoken source of information on isicathamiya and Zulu music in general. It turns out he has studied with, competed against, or is personal friends with most of the other people I've contacted. It looks like I've reached the right circle of people.

I draw up new plans. I'll head to Vryheid for 4-5 days, come back to Durban at the end of the week, and head to Port Shepstone at the beginning of next week. Vusi, my new Port Shepstone friend, says there will be a pair of big parties at the end of the month-- lots of cows being slaughtered and lots of singing and dancing. I shouldn't miss them. Of course, that will conflict with one of the few things already on my calendar, a Zulu wedding up in the Pietermaritzburg wedding at which one of my isicathamiya contacts will be performing traditional music. But it's a good problem to have. In the scheduling department, I've gone from rags to riches overnight.