Disclaimer: the
content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the
views of the U.S. government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.
The backbone of society in South Africa seems to be one
group of women: the gogos. The gogos
will make sure that you are eating enough, and will bring you food if they
decide you are not (and watch you eat to make sure you finish it). The gogos will protect you on taxis and in
stores from men who make unwelcomed advances and from people who try to steal
your groceries. People in the villages
in which I have lived have been on their best behavior around the gogos. In
fact the craziest I have seen a village get was over Easter weekend last year
when the gogos all went away for a weekend long church service and the village
let loose. When the gogos witness someone step out of line a quick “wena,
umshaya” seems to restore order and good behavior. Their position of respect is well deserved,
these women are the hardest working, most industrious women I have ever had the
pleasure of knowing.
When I was in training I lived with a Zulu gogo and her
Xhosa husband. They had three sons who
were away working in Pretoria and Johannesburg so they cared for three
teenage grandsons and one baby grandson.
Gogo was up at the crack of dawn each morning to sweep the yard. You might think “no big deal, sweeping a yard,”
but the brooms the gogos use to sweep the yards make my back hurt just looking
at them. Gogo was bent over at the waste
using a stiff, handheld broom each morning to slowly sweep debris from the
yard. After sweeping, gogo would feed
the baby and make certain that everyone else had been taken care of for
breakfast and bathing before leaving for school. Once everyone had gone gogo would head to a
small room on the side of the house where she would spend the day sewing and
mending items brought to her from people around the village, for a small
fee. In the afternoon, when the sun was
at its most unbearable, gogo would rest in the shade for a bit before spending
several hours preparing dinner for nine people.
Did I mention that she did all of this with a baby strapped to her
back? Once dinner was prepared we would
sit down together and watch the soapies while we ate. Gogo would end her day later than most of us,
only to begin before us again the next morning.
Currently I live with my Tsonga gogo, or kokwana. Kokwana is like the energizer bunny. She is up at four each morning, spending
about an hour doing housework and yard work and talking to friends who are up
as early as her. Shortly after five
kokwana will leave for the day to head out to the bush to chop wood. I usually see her coming back to the house
between five and six in the evening, an enormous pile of wood on top of her
head (she sells her wood to the neighbors for a small fee). She then goes about tending to her trees and
garden until about nine in the evening.
The gogos amaze me. Women
half their age hardly come close to having a comparable energy level. I speak very little Zulu or XiTsonga, so
communication has been a challenge with my gogos, but their kindness and
generosity have been evident without words.
My absolute favorite thing that both of them have done is chanting “number
one” and high fiving me when I manage to sputter out something slightly
coherent about where I am going or where I have been. I am not sure where they picked up “number
one,” but I love it! I am continually
impressed that these women have worked so hard their entire lives and show no
signs of slowing. They definitely
deserve the respect they receive in South Africa, and I am so glad to have had
the opportunity to know such amazing women.
