Puku Story Festival - Part Two: Story-Telling

In February, 2015 I was privileged enough to be asked to photograph Grahamstown's Puku Story Festival - a festival aimed at promoting the telling, writing, publishing and reading of stories in isiXhosa. This is part two of my experience of the festival.

Stories. They fill our minds with wonder and open new worlds for our imaginations to explore. They show us our own world in a way that we had never quite seen it. Whether they're meant for the young or the old, stories allow us to both escape from the world and to find our place in it.

The Puku Story Festival celebrates stories of all forms - sung, spoken, written and acted. It embraces stories that have been written, and encourages the writing of them. It encourages those with a voice to use it in whatever way they can to tell their own stories, and more than anything, it encourages them to tell those stories in their own tongue, and in their own way.

Those who follow this blog may know that I have a tendency to tell stories through photography and explain them through words. I don't want to explain too much today. I think I'll just let the photographs tell their own story of the wonderful Puku Story Festival that I was privileged to be a part of.

Puku Story Festival - Part One: Hitting the Road

In February, 2015 I was privileged enough to be asked to photograph Grahamstown's Puku Story Festival - a festival aimed at promoting the telling, writing, publishing and reading of stories in isiXhosa. This is part one of my experience of the festival.

I can’t understand a word that they’re saying.

There are over forty children, all under six years old, crammed into a classroom with no fewer than six adults, myself being one of them, all talking at once, and there is not a single word that I recognise. My primary school lessons have failed me, my “Khunjani khakuhle” nothing more than a mixed up memory that makes no sense in the real world. At least not when strung together in the sing-song way that stuck in my head. And not only is this just day one, it is just school one of day one. What have I gotten myself into?

The answer? Three days filled with endless smiles and laughter. Three days of excited shouting and running and twirling around to “Lizzy Lizzy”. Three days of making music with hands and mouths, emptied tins of jam and sosatie sticks or washing pegs. Three days of barely understanding a word that is spoken, but seeing with my own eyes wide faces filled with wonder at stories that I can’t understand, and don’t need to.

The Puku Story Festival was on its way to Grahamstown, and I spent three days travelling from school to school for road shows in areas that I didn’t even know existed, and got to see the excitement first hand as the children were told stories in their mother tongue. I got to capture their spell-bound glances, their shoulders hunched in anticipation and their unrelenting joy at having story-tellers come to visit.

I couldn’t understand a word that they were saying. I didn’t have to.

Childhood

Alexia Geldenhuys van Zyl
3
Grahamstown

I do not have any children, and at this stage of my life that is a very good thing. I am not even 24 years old and the closest thing that I have to a child is my cat, Puddims. But I do have a goddaughter, and there is little that I love more in the world than spoiling her rotten.

Yesterday was Alexia's third birthday, so Grant and I headed over to the Geldenhuys/Van Zyl house with our hands filled with the presents that we had found (and made) for her. The look on her face when we walked in was priceless as she saw the giant frog that could not be wrapped surrounded by Hello Kitty covered gifts. Not being old enough to open them herself, I had to help her by making the first tear and then watching her pull it and exclaim "BABY!" as she unwrapped each individually wrapped fluffy toy, followed by her other gifts which she was less excited about naming, but more excited about playing with. Grant and I always get Alexia fluffy toys, possibly because I want to get them but cannot possibly justify keeping them for myself, so end up giving them to someone who I know will appreciate them as much as I do. But this birthday, we decided that she was getting old enough to start learning as well. So we got building blocks with the alphabet and numbers and pictures on them so that she can start getting some learning in while she plays. We also got her bath gel that we know will cause her hours of joy and her parents hours of cleaning up - a toy that no parent would get their own child, but that others feel no guilt in buying.

Watching Alexia play with her toys always makes me feel young. She plays with such abandon, with such vigour as though this is the best thing in the whole wide world. I miss being that age, when every new toy is the best thing in the world and disappointments are short lived. It's certainly a good mindset to have, but one that we, as adults, have some trouble getting to grips with. But for now, I am more than happy to watch from the sidelines as Alexia grows and hope that I will be there for her when the frivolities of life start to fade and seriousness starts taking over.

Faeries and Feathers

Jestine Geldenhys, Gerhard van Zyl and Alexia
27, 28 and 2
Grahamstown

Godmother. The word conjures up a myriad of images – images of faeries, princesses and princes, dazzling gowns and royal balls. Thinking of it makes me want to prance around with a makeshift wand shouting Bippity-Boppity-Boo! And yet, one image that the word godmother doesn't conjure up is a picture of a jobless 23 year old, recently returned from Korea. And yet, that is what I am – godmother to a wonderful little princess – golden ringlets, blue eyes and all.

Pink blurs fill my camera screen as I try to capture shots of the little monkey running around.
"Alexia," Jestine shouts with a frustration that suggests this isn't the first time she's had to use her shouting voice today. "This is going to be difficult," she announces, and I have to agree. Alexia is in no mood for holding still.
"Sit here," she announces, climbing over rocks and running through the grass.
"Apparently she wants you to sit there," I say as we all move towards her chosen spot. Gerhard spots the bench and we all head that way, Alexia in tow, to try and get a nice family shot. Huh-uh, not according to Alexia, who won't allow her mother to sit beside her.
Daddy's little girl, I think to myself.

I remember when I first heard that Gerhard was going to be a dad. It came as a bit of a shock to me. For some reason, I could never picture him as a father. Perhaps it was the bouncer-pose that he acquired at work, perhaps it was that he seemed like a bit of a child himself in his off hours – bouncing around doing flick-flacks and giving off excesses of energy. But when I see him with Alexia, I wonder why I ever thought that he wouldn't make a good dad. As he picks her up on his shoulders and bounces her around in his typical fashion, I can see that Gerhard was made to be a father.

At 27 years old, I don't think Jestine ever imagined that she would be where she is today – a mother living in a small town, working a part-time job. But she has taken it all in her stride. I can tell just by looking at her playing with Alexia that motherhood comes naturally – she knows just how to make her little girl smile and laugh, knows just how to cheer her up and how to make her listen. Always prepared with a positive outlook on life and advice on any situation, it should come as no surprise that she has become my go-to girl in Grahamstown.

As Alexia wanders around the gardens from the purple bougainvilleas, to the bamboo shoots, to the ponds scattered around, Gerhard and Jestine take a few moments to themselves, stealing kisses and furtive glances at each other. After four years together, they are just as in love as they ever were, and it's moments like these that prove it.

As I wander through the gardens, snapping away with my camera, I remember why it is that I love taking photos. I love capturing moments that act as glimpses into lives – the love, the fun, the joy and the pain – and I think I managed to capture them all in the lives of Gerhard and his family – from the loving moments that he shares with Jestine, to Jestine's playfulness with Alexia and to Gerhard's love for his little girl.