Zulu! - Rorke's Drift, South Africa
Harmonie
Don and Anne Myers
Mon 16 Jul 2012 10:53
| 28:23.45S 30:36.52E June 27, 2012 - June 28, 2012 From Kruger National Park, we drove south, back into the heart of Zululand to Rorke's Drift, site of a famous (famous in British circles) British-Zulu battle. The six of us decided to take the back roads for the five hour drive - Don and I in one car and Ray, Helen, Sue and John in the other. A two-car convoy through the isolated foothills bordering Swaziland (yes, Swaziland is a real country complete with a real king who has lots of wives) seemed safe enough until car number two took a wrong turn and we lost them. We didn't run into any trouble, but the three "High Crime, No Stopping" signs we saw along the way did nothing to ease our fears. Needless to say, we didn't stop. However, we did enjoy the ride through rolling hills covered in eucalyptus tree plantations, and green valleys teeming with orange, papaya and avocado trees. Rural South African roads have very little traffic. Private transport is something most native South Africans can not afford, so we often see men, women, teenagers and women with babies hitchhiking, walking or riding in a minibus taxi (many of which are purported to be run by a form of South African mafia). Unlike Southeast Asia, there are no hordes of motorcycles, scooters or bicycles - only the occasional wheelbarrow. An article in the local Richard's Bay paper reported a young man in one of the townships was murdered for stealing someone's wheelbarrow. After seeing firsthand the lack of transportation options, being upset about a stolen wheelbarrow is understandable (but still a rather shocking motive for murder). The townships we passed generally looked alike - endless groups of tiny, rectangular unpainted cinder block or concrete houses with corrugated tin roofs often secured in place with rocks and boulders piled on top. Sometimes, the more attractive traditional Zulu rondavels are scattered among the cinder block rectangles. Extended families live in houses grouped together, forming a homestead. Sometimes the tiny homes have power and running water, but more often, they don't. On more than one occasion we noticed power lines running right next to a township, but with no connecting wires to the township houses. Outhouses typically dot the landscape, placed a few steps behind each gray rectangle house. The more rural the township, the lower the prospect for jobs. Rorke's Drift is far off the beaten path, with miles of dirt roads leading in and out. The unemployment rate is a staggering 80%. Unfortunately, 80% unemployment in rural communities like Rorke's Drift is not uncommon. In places like this, the Zulu lead a more traditional life herding cattle and growing mealie (corn). Zulu chiefs still wield plenty of power and talk of black magic (and sometimes more than talk) still exists. It is good to see Zulu culture alive and well, but it would be better to see it thriving in a more prosperous setting. Even so, here again, we never felt threatened. In fact, just the opposite. While driving slowly down the dirt tracks leading in and out of Rorke's Drift, every local we passed gave us a friendly wave. One of the more traditional rural Zulu townships, complete with lots of thatch-roof rondavels, outhouses, and grazing cattle. A hybrid homestead - concrete rondavels with thatch roofs connected by a concrete rectangle with corrugated tin roof. Unusual in that it's larger than the typical township house. Photo courtesy of Helen. Rorke's Drift. A drift is a ford or river crossing. What is now the town of Rorke's Drift, was once just a place to cross the river which formed the border between Zululand to the north and Natal to the south. Natal was the colony the British annexed from the Dutch in the mid-1800's. Today, Zululand and Natal have been merged into one province: KwaZulu-Natal. On January 22, 1879, in the shadow of Islandlwana Mountain just a few miles from Rorke's Drift, the British suffered one of the worst military defeats in their history at the hands of the Zulu. Reports on the number of Zulu warriors that descended on the British camp at Islandlwana range from 25,000 to 40,000. Imagine the terror the 1,250 or so Brits must have felt when the fierce-looking, animal skin clad Zulu poured down the surrounding hills in an endless stream while simultaneously chanting their battle cry. Just the name of their preferred weapon, a deadly knife, brings on shivers. It is pronounced ee-quaaw - the 'quaaw' part is meant to sound exactly like a knife being pulled out of a human body - a sucking, slurping kind of sound. Ugh. About 1,200 British soldiers were killed and only around 50 escaped. This was a huge victory for the Zulu, although their loses were probably twice that of the Brits. The Zulu were fighting mainly with spears, knives, cow hide shields, and a few rifles; whereas the British were well equipped with many rifles and several cannons, so the fact that the Zulu won the battle so decisively caused wild celebration on their part. Even today, when we bring up the battle of Islandlwana to the few Zulu men we've met around the marina, the pride in their voice when discussing the battle is clear. Zulu pride runs deep. Later that same day, news of the devastating defeat at Islandlwana reached the small mission hospital at Rorke's Drift where a contingent of about 150 British soldiers were stationed (some recovering from wounds in the hospital). That afternoon, a large group of Zulu warriors (~4,000? it's difficult to say as there is no written history on the Zulu side) who weren't part of the intense fighting at Islandlwana decided to attack the mission hospital at Rorke's Drift. Against all odds, the small group of British soldiers held the mission hospital despite repeated Zulu attacks that went on throughout the night. Like Islandlwana was for the Zulu, Rorke's Drift was a much celebrated British victory. We visited both battle sites, and listened to the stories as told by two very excellent Zulu guides. Both guides were trained by David Rattray, deceased owner of Fugitive's Drift, which is the very nice mountain lodge we stayed in while there. David is the 'pillar of the community' mentioned in an earlier blog entry, who was murdered in a robbery gone wrong. Before his death, he researched both battles for years to uncover the full story as told by the Zulu, and as documented by the British. He passed all this information on to his three sons and the two Zulu guides. Each battle story as told to us by the guides lasted a good three of four hours, and was filled with more emotion, drama, sound effects and Zulu words than the movie Zulu we watched later upon our return to Harmonie. Zulu, filmed in the 1960's, gave Michael Caine his first acting break, and depicted the battle at Rorke's Drift. It didn't hold a candle to our guide Joseph's rendition. The photo above shows the memorial at Rorke's Drift erected to honor the British soldiers who fell there. This is one of our Zulu guides caught mid-story. Behind his outstretched arm is Islandlwana Mountain, site of the Bristish defeat. Photo courtesy of Helen. The white stone cairns on and around Islandlwana Mountain mark the hundreds of British soldiers' graves. Per their custom, the fallen Zulu were removed from the battlefield by their survivors. View of the Islandlwana battlefield taken while standing on Islandlwana Mountain. The white dots are the rock cairn grave markers. No African tour is complete without a couple of Land Rovers. These are the beasts that carried us over the dirt roads from the lodge to the battlefields and back. It was a chilly day on the mountain, so our guides plied us delicate tourists with tea and snacks to keep us happy. That's Sue and Don shivering with their tea. Hazel, the Zulu chef at Fugitive's Drift lodge, showing off her afternoon tea concoction. No pounds were lost on this trip. Photo courtesy of Helen. One of the lovely views around the Rorke's Drift area. Fugitive's Drift lodge is located on its own game reserve and these (not sure which variety of antelope they are) seemed to be enjoying their stay just as much as we were. Next up: Holy Hippo! - St. Lucia, South Africa Anne |