Their Ship Came In

I was in rural Eastern Cape visiting friends recently. I sometimes (still) struggle with the accent, particularly in the rural areas. I don’t know if it is because English is used much less frequently there or if the accent is different because they speak a “deep” isiXhosa that hasn’t been as affected by the external cultural influences that urban isiXhosa speakers have been exposed to in Cape Town. Either way, I do find it challenging. At Nolungile’s home, an older woman who is considered an elder in the village, she excited told me that she was awaiting her son who was bringing a ship. “A ship?” I ask bewilderedly. She explains that her son is coming now with a ship that he won. “He won a ship? And he is coming now with it?” I repeat. “Yes,” she says while smiling proudly.

Now I am puzzled. There are no large rivers or lakes that I am aware of near there. Nor can I imagine what he would have at his disposal that would transport this ship to water. Furthermore, very few people have cars and I wonder exactly how he’ll be carrying a ship. I, as humbly as possible, turn to another person sitting with us. I realize that I am missing something, but I’m not sure quite what, and I repeat what I heard. “Her son is on his way with a ship… that he won? And he’s coming now?” I speak steadily and carefully articulate each word to be sure I am understood. “Yes! We must wait for them!” she says. I engage in another conversation until a different person walks in that I know. I discretely, but fastidiously, ask him about the ship. He confirms. He says the village soccer team won their rival team and they are coming here with a ship. I try to conceal my confusion and emulate his enthusiasm. “Well, this should be interesting,” I think to myself. I image a boys’ soccer team carrying a large wooden ship down the kilometers of dirt road riddled with pot holes.

Then I hear it. It is the magical melody of boisterous vocals chanting in celebration. Everybody jumps up and bellows typical undulating African yelps. As they come closer and the chanting gets louder. Others in neighboring houses also come out to chant and sing in victory. I am encouraged to go to the road to get a picture. As the group of boys emerge from the darkness of the unlit dirt road, they carry in tow a prize much more valuable than a ship. A large and lethargic sheep leads the way and attracts the envy of the audience. She is a laudable reward for a game well done.