by Cyn Bagley

Created on: June 24, 2007   Last Updated: November 24, 2008

Explorations of a Wild Soul

The Dark Continent, the cradle of civilization, and the womb of humankind: Africa conjures mythic images of tropic forests and dry savannas, of gazelles and springboks, and of lions and cheetahs. Africa rouses our innermost fears and desires. Africa. And, I spent two years there.

Johannesburg, a teeming metropolis, disappointed me when I saw its electric beauty, as we circled the airport, waiting to land. Logically, I knew that over a million people worked and played in its city and suburbs. But emotionally, I wanted to see warriors - Zulus - dressed in war paint with seven-foot spears in one hand and black and white shields in the other, stomping the dirt in their tribal rhythms. I wanted to see Zulu women, dressed in short-grass skirts, and metal necklaces, dancing for their warriors, sending them to hunt or to war. My mind rebelled at the reality of narrow streets ending in cul-de-sacs in modern housing developments. I rebelled at rush-hour traffic, overpasses, apartment blocks, high rises, and department stores; in short, I rebelled against civilization.

But beneath the glamorous facade of Western civilization, beneath this populous city, the wild soul of Africa shook the earth - a caged animal. "Don't worry about the earth tremors," I was told, "the first gold mines in South Africa were found in Johannesburg. There are miles and miles of open tunnels adequately braced with wooden logs." I was told that the city sank into the earth at a rate of about a half-inch per year. "But we are used to it," the residents would say, complacently. I knew better.

I had been down, under the city, under three miles in an old mine, which was used to impress tourists of Johannesburg's history. I felt the wild soul envelop me, under the dirt, under the city. I felt buried, knowing that if the elevator lost power I would forever wander in the inky depths of the old mine. I knew that one day, the city would sink, and a million lives would be lost. They would be swallowed by the earth.

The wild soul revealed itself not only under the city but also in its substructure: the people. Men, women, and children of dark skin wandered the roads of the city, speaking to each other in the wild rhythmic languages of Zulu or Sotho. The wildest languages used clicks - short clicks at the top of the mouth or harsh clicks at the back of the throat. Xhosa. This word - Xhosa - starts with a click in the back of the throat, a word that only a native could pronounce.

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