52
the spirit of water • magda minguzzi
next page Fig. 33-34 The KhoiSan Chiefs and Headpersons performing ancient rituals, referred to as !NAU: the cleansing ceremony of the site and of the people with the kudu horn. Early morning of 06/05/2017
At the same time, at an adjoining site put at our disposal by the Municipality, KhoiSan women began preparing the traditional dishes that would be served to all the participants following the public ritual on 6 May. Filming and photographic documentation also began on the first day. This was a delicate issue because it was important to prevent the cameras and video cameras from becoming a distraction for the participants and in turn risking compromising the event by turning it into a sort of “spectacle” as opposed to an immersive communal experience. Very early on the morning of 6 May, the students involved in the project arrived and we completed the final preparations before the “public” phase of the performance began. At 8:30 a.m. two buses, carrying members of the KhoiSan community from the north of Port Elizabeth – Bethelsdorp and Uitenhage – and shuttles from the main parking at main entrance to the nature reserve arrived. The arrival time was coordinated with the tide. In addition to the students and the members of the KhoiSan community, the event was attended by many members of the Nelson Mandela University, artists, and members of the public. A brief note is necessary regarding the execution of the rituals in which a number of people not forming part of the KhoiSan community participated. What became clear was the Chiefs were carefully trying to ensure that the “correct” movements and gestures were made in perfect unison. The fragility of the moment was palpable, mirroring the delicate relationship of these people with their past and traditions. These gestures are inscribed in their DNA having been repeated for centuries and are at the same time waiting to be reactivated, once again revealed through a “pact” with time, an accord with tradition. Perhaps, on that occasion, through the strong wind that was blowing on Cape Recife, those ancient words reawakened: words spoken by parents and grandparents, silently so as not to be overheard1, but firm in the knowledge, the hope perhaps, that one day they would take on new meaning. They are words that speak of rituals, ceremonies and customs. In this way, their uttering at Cape Recife was like seeing a child discovering her own hands, for the first time. Her hands were always there but, in that specific moment, she becomes fully conscious of them. When the performance was finished, we moved to another location, called Happy Valley, put at our disposal by the Municipality where two long tables had been set up so that all the participants could share a meal. The next phase concerned the processing and production of the outputs: editing the footage with Marco Fabbri and selecting the photographs to be used in the exhibition with Glenn Meyer. After this initial preparatory phase, dialogue was once again opened with the representatives of the KhoiSan to get their input, impressions, and suggestions and to secure their approval.
1
The Indigenous peoples were prevented by the colonizers from speaking their language and expressing their culture.
