LOVE has no COLOUR
Marrying into a different culture can be hard. But these couples have made it work and, in the process, brought their families together
There is an old Xhosa saying that goes: intonga entle igawulwa ezizweni. Loosely translated, it means you will have to travel far to find a good thing.
This is exactly what these women did when they married outside of their own cultures, exposing themselves to a whole different kind of life.
With multiple cultures and 11 official languages, it is not uncommon for South Africans to marry into different races or cultures. Getting used to your partner’s cultural practices, however, can be a daunting experience for many.
For instance, as an English and Afrikaans-speaking coloured woman, Portia Hlongwane did something that no traditional bride would think to do.
She ate meat that was in the kraal, only allocated to men.
Meanwhile, to this day, Xhosa-speaking Okuhle Tamella still teases her white husband, Chad Fallet, about not moisturizing his skin enough.
Portia and Sthembiso Hlongwane have been married for 11 years and together for 15 years. Both in the media industry, they met at an event which she had organized.
“I don’t know how it happened, but we went out for dinner on a Friday night,” Portia remembers.
“At the time I was still living with my late dad and it was the first time that I had not slept at home because the conversation was really, really good and we were chilling and had wine.
“By the time I looked at the watch, it was two o’ clock in the morning and I was thinking, ‘ There is no way I am going home. My dad is going to kill me!’
“We started seeing each other and within three months I fell pregnant.”
Meanwhile, it was not love at first sight for Okuhle. She says she did not find Chad charming when she first met him in high school.
Yet, a decade later, they got married on their 10th year dating anniversary.
“My earliest memory of Chad is that he was one of those naughty kids in school,” Okuhle recalls.
“He was always getting into trouble in school. He was a good kid, who was very sporty and stuff, but he was always a bit of a troublemaker.
“Fast forward to Grade 11, and we were both outside the gate after sport – he played rugby and I played hockey. One afternoon he played a bit of a prank on me, but he didn’t know that he’d pulled this prank in front of my dad who had come to pick me up from school.
“I got into the car and my dad signalled
for him to come to the car. When he got there, my dad who is a linguist said something to him in Afrikaans. Chad just stood there with this look of bewilderment, like, ‘ What the hell is going on?!’” she laughs.
She says her father joked that Chad should watch himself around his daughter and it was a pleasant interaction.
Weeks later, the pair found themselves outside the school gate at the same time again and, in typical Chad fashion, the mischievous teen pulled another prank on her. This time he took her cellphone and started running up the road. But he soon returned it. “I remember thinking to myself, ‘ What is wrong with this boy, why is he so weird?’’ says Okuhle.
“So I got home that evening and I logged into Mxit and I was chatting to my friends. Then up pops up this name that I did not recognize. It was ‘umrhonqonqo’, and it turns out it was Chad and he had secretly invited himself to my Mxit.
“We started talking and just could not stop, the conversation was great and he was instantly my best friend.”
The women talk about how strange arguing in English with their partners can be.
“We speak English to each other,” says Okuhle, “but there are instances where I am very comfortable saying things in Isixhosa or IsiZulu, and he will respond accordingly in English or Zulu.
“But when it comes to arguments, I take that English and put it away. I cannot, at 2am, be saying, ‘Oh babe, you know I think we should . . . ’
“No. I say, ‘ Hheyi bhuti, hhayi bhuti ayizokwenzeka leyo (that is not going to happen).’ Or I’ll say, ‘Kugqityiwe, please man (that’s final please man),’” she says with a laugh.
The makotis say there are culture shocks which come from being raised in a different traditional context.
Portia recalls once committing the faux pas of eating the ‘men’s meat’.
“We had gone there for a funeral, and this was afterwards. I can’t even remember what meat it was,” she says. “They put it on those big, wooden Zulu dishes.
“So the meat was there, and I was, like, ‘ Yo we’re eating!’ Then this guy says, ‘ Hhe eh omama, ababayidli inyama yamadoda (women don’t eat men’s meat).
“And I was, like, ‘ Kanti, what part of the cow is this that women cannot eat?” I come from a home where, as long as there’s food, we can eat,” she says.
Portia adds that she was sitting on her husband’s lap, among other men, when she reached out to eat the meat. “I could just feel his discomfort,” she laughs.
“That’s when I learned to sit back and watch what other women do and what the men do. You’ll find that the women will go to the men to ask, ‘Baba, can I have what e v er it i s that she wants’, which is so strange for me.”
For Okuhle it was public displays of affection that took some getting used to. “I come from a loving family, but PDAs were never a thing,” she admits. “It was a bit strange for me in the beginning to see parents kissing each other and hugging. But I have learned to get with the programme.
“I was always taught that you cook for everyone, then dish up. But when I got to Chad’s family, nobody expects you to do anything.
“If there’s a family dinner, everyone dishes up for themselves, which was a weird concept for me. There isn’t pressure for me to do much, and that is a bit of a relief because as umakoti you dread the experience – no offence to anyone.”
Even seeing men in the kitchen was something different for Okuhle to see because she comes from a culture where men do not do much in the kitchen.
“Chad’s dad cooks, he bakes, he does everything. Another thing was white people not wanting to moisturize their skin,” she jokes.
“I remember Chad saying, ‘ Ja, but I’m white so you can’t see if I have lotion on’ and I could not believe it. I told him to stop that thought in its tracks. He said he does get ashy and I told him he would age like a banana if he did not put lotion on.”
Chad has also had to adjust to eating animal parts such as tripe or sheep’s head, says Okuhle. She also calls her parents-inlaw by their first names or by nicknames – “thankfully”, she says. “Because it would not come easily off my tongue as I do have a mother and a father.” ●
THE MAKOTIS SAY THERE ARE CULTURE SHOCKS WHICH COME FROM BEING RAISED IN DIFFERENT TRADITIONAL CONTEXTS.