Wednesday, 21 October 2015

defending the cavewoman



A few days ago, I announced on Facebook that we had assisted in the formation of our first black South African youth development initiative, which is spearheaded by Khule Ndlovu. The announcement drew a number of congratulations and well wishes, but you know how it goes, right? There's always one.

This Facebook "friend" (he only remained such for as long as it took me to find his page and unfriend him) just had to go and spout a load of nonsense, which I will quote below. This is not for the purpose of legitimising the comment, but so that we can have it on hand to reference while I prove how thoroughly uneducated this person really is.

My friend and fellow writer, Matthias Kainz, actually reposted this comment in disgust and disbelief. He had the decency and kindness to blank out the guy's name and profile picture. Me? I think that if you want to post crap on the internet, you should have the balls to do it with your name attached. And this is where the "defending the cavewoman" title comes in: I am quite happy to drag this sad little fish up onto the bank and into the light where we can all beat the crap out of him with clubs, because that is what I would have done, IF he had made his comments in person. In this case, I think it's quite appropriate to let the cavewoman out to have some fun. So here goes:

Raymond L Dupuis:
Blacks are forbidden to duel or challenge a European knight. I say rubbish and poppy cock to allow non Europeans to challenge and take part in European culture and traditions. Do not lie and lead them on. They have country, their own jungle traditions. I do not condone mixing our traditions in the name sports or profit. Gladiators to death okay, knights of Europe, no. Is nothing sacred anymore. A black will never be my equal. Never

So, there were a number of replies, some of which made me squint and then giggle a bit (thanks, Jade!), and others which made me feel like I really need to brush up on my history in general. Like, all of it (thanks, Adrian and Laurent!) And they were pretty much all in the same vein, ie. "you're an idiot who knows bugger-all about the real world, etc. etc." and that was very good, because to be honest, when I saw this, I got that reaction. You know, the cavewoman reaction? Where your heart starts beating as if it's going to burst out of your chest like a baby alien and squeal at you, and you get those flickers of black around your vision, and all of your muscles start tensing, especially those ones involved in making people hurt?
NOW, I can calmly write about this, but at that point, I had to take a number of deep breaths and remind myself that arguing over the internet is like competing in the Special Olympics, and so I just made a very short reply and got rid of the dude.
I also sent another friend a message asking if this was indeed the standpoint of the European sword community, which, of course, it isn't. Once I had verified that, I had chilled a bit and was able to think logically.
NOW, let's examine what this individual (no doubt after announcing this opinion to close on 500 other fighters, he is indeed an individual, as in alone) had to say.
Blacks are forbidden to challenge Europeans in combat? Hmmm... The Arthurian legends say otherwise. In fact, Sir Morien was a black warrior whose mother was a Moorish princess, and thus as nobilty, he was a knight. He is also known in Christianised Europe as Saint Maurice, Knight of the Holy Lance and patron saint of the Holy Roman Empire. Here is an effigy of him: http://medievalpoc.tumblr.com/post/55426449653/sir-morien-black-knight-of-the-round-table-the
It was considered quite acceptable for those of differently-hued skin to assume places of honour in Europe, and so that claim of Raymond's is, as he says, "poppycock".

Apparently they have "their own jungle traditions". Now, as someone who was born in Africa, has lived in Africa for all of her life, and who considers herself to be, at least African, if not somewhat Zulu, I can totally testify to the fact that we have no jungles in this part of the continent. We do have some indigenous forests, coastal and inland, but nothing that can be classified as "jungle" by our local botanists.

Also, as someone who has a Bachelor's degree cum laude with a major in IsiZulu Studies, I can also confirm that nothing in my studies of traditional Nguni practices, nor in my personal, face-to-face, up-close-and-personal, having actually been there experience has led me to believe that any of the Nguni traditions are based in jungles.

Lastly, the issue of "mixing traditions" is an interesting claim because we come across it so often in South Africa, when those opposing racial and cultural integration will mark something as "white" or "back" or "unAfrican" in an effort to discourage people from practising aspects of another culture that they themselves disapprove of. Our hardly-esteemed president Jacob Zuma, for example, cited walking one's dog on a leash as a "white" activity. Of course, we all laughed and made a circle with our fingers next to our heads because that's what politicians do when they're about to be bust for something (oh let's say like stealing taxpayers' money for their own ends) and they want to create a distraction. In this case, though, the guy is not really a politician. So I ask, why is he so desperate to create a distraction? Is he scared of facing off against a black opponent? Maybe (and I do surmise here) his overly inflated opinion of himself doesn't allow for the possibility of being beaten by those whom he believes are below him in status.
Well, to that I say, it's a new world, buddy. Best learn to live in it.
But as a rule, and to back up my claim that the issue of "mixing traditions" is a redundant exercise, firstly, let us remember that we had SAMURAI at this year's IMCF. Genuine Japanese warriors. How's that for mixing traditions? No-one died, right? Even though it was medieval combat. And also, "There has never been a time when Europeans were exclusively white people. " (Kimberley Smithbower Roseblade)

As a sidenote about the "for profit" comment, I think that any real swordfighter will know that in terms of the sport and support, there is never any profit to be considered, let alone involved, in fighting at this level. Maybe when swordfighting becomes as popular as soccer or rugby, then we can revisit that bit of comedy.

Now, on that last comment of Raymond's... "a black will never be my equal"?
Well, now, that's just far too plain to argue. I'm afraid in that respect, I must agree with the Monsieur Depuis on that point. A black will never be his equal. That would be an insult to my black brothers, in my country and everywhere else in the world.
But on a complete tangent, that statement did bring back a quote from one of my favourite movies, Empire Records: when they arrest that kid who calls himself Warren Beatty, and as they forcibly remove him from the shop, he squeaks in this high, adolescent my-voice-hasn't-yet-broken whine, "I'll be back and you'll be sorry!" And Joe, the manager replies sarcastically, "I'm already sorry."
My tricksy, fun-loving mind insists that Raymond would look and sound just like Warren. If Raymond has the stones to post an actual photo of himself, that is.

As far as I'm concerned, the moment that I earned that bronze medal in Women's Polearm at IMCF, medieval combat became part of my country's sporting heritage. Not just for white people, but for all South Africans, as a nation, to share in, and no-one - especially not Raymond L Depuis - will dissuade me from inviting people of all ages, ethnicities, cultures or economic backgrounds to come and join us as we beat the crap out of each other with swords, maces, polearms, shields, and the odd cavewoman club.

Thursday, 8 October 2015

adieu, adieu, we bid thee farewell...

Don't panic. We are not giving up fighting.

It was a conversation that Josh and I had had a number of times: what to do about the people who wanted to start sword training, but who couldn't, for whatever reason, make it up the hill to our venue on a Tuesday night. Lift clubbing only helps so much when you have more and more people showing interest.

At our event a couple of weeks ago, we had the same experience as we have had time and time again. People asking where they can train locally, and us smiling and saying the only place is in Hillcrest, 60km away.

At the same time, during the months leading up to the event, Josh and I had realised that there were things we had neglected in our lives because we were living and breathing only sword fighting. The house was an even worse mess than it usually is, the car and the bike were both in dire need of some serious attention, and Tala, the small beastie who is my offspring, was beginning to get over sword without ever even having been in it. Josh picked up a guitar and realised that he hadn't played it in six months.

While I was pushing for MORE to be done to promote the sport of medieval combat in our province, like development initiatives and recruiting for a women's buhurt team, Josh was pointing out that we already don't have time for anything else.

It was a dilemma that concerned both of us. We came to the realisation that in order for us to be able to do what we need to do, in all aspects of our lives, we would have to give up the one comfort zone that had cushioned and supported us (much longer for Josh than for me, but still a number of years). The decision to leave Durban Sword and Shield was not taken lightly, and we announced it with heavy hearts.

Instead of being members of DSSC, and only training in Hillcrest every Tuesday, Josh and I will henceforth be independent fighters (a team of two, if you will), and we will spend one night a week travelling to a different group to train with them. The groups that will be starting up will not be "our clubs". They will choose their own leaders and decide on their own system of governance, etc. We will just be there to advise and coach.

Of course, we will still have buhurt training at our place for everyone who wants to attend. But really, what we want to do is open up access for people who are unable to get to training. And that means, more than anything else, connecting people with each other and ensuring that they have a suitable venue (free is always first prize) and access to information about where to get armour and weapons, as well as training in combat techniques.

As I said, it wasn't the happiest announcement we've had to make. We certainly didn't leave because of any bad feelings, and in a way that makes it harder because we love the DSSC people. They are our family. I think, though, that being independent and able to move from group to group, wherever they train, and helping the sport to grow and the standard of fighting to improve through diversity, will justify the decision. It won't be easy; we know that already. We knew it when we made the decision. 

But let's see what we can get going. Wish us luck. This may be the start of something epic...


Friday, 2 October 2015

tournament time and our national heritage

Greetings fellow fighters and everyone else!

It has been quite some time since I have updated this blog. We recently had our national KZN Battle Heritage South Africa event, and our club was responsible for organising it, so I was very busy indeed! What with my two jobs, trying to help some of our newer fighters get armoured up, and being a mom, it was a stretch. And I didn't even do that much in terms of organising, really.

But it all came together and we had an awesome event. The ceremony was short and sweet. Here's Josh and I and our Team Captain, Brian Topper. Josh, proudly wearing the surcoat he got from Luxembourg Captain Laurent Bemtgen at IMCF this year.

The ceremony was just a walk of the field and then a few speeches about our national heritage and how the event was for the children (the market and event organising fell to Shannonne Gradwell from the Parents' Support Group of Cornerstone Remedial School).

Our Herald, Richard, however, was really pleased with the number of gonfalons that we were able to display. Mine is being carried by my small beastie, Tala (in front of me) and shows a black destrier prancing over flames and below the Pagan triple Goddess/God symbol.

Josh's isn't really visible, but he has a valknutt above a crossed sword and hammer and lute.


You can also see Brian's red wyvern and Aidan's rampant red lion (I think) of the Granthams behind me. Our MC, Stephen has the three yellow salmon swimming upstream.

We also worked out a coat of arms for our club, Durban Sword and Shield, which is now a black wyvern on a white background and then on a bend sinister in black, there is a white rhino.

Quite cool, I thought.

We also had our herald's heraldry, the Polish eagle with the Hagall rune (or the elvish 'E', as he puts it) on green, and a few others.

I think it's so cool to be in a sport where you can proudly display your symbols of house and nation.

Although the weather was cloudy and somewhat cooler than the day before, we were all still grateful for the army tents.

It was humid, which is par for the course for Durban by the sea, and we drank a lot of water during the tournament and a lot of beer afterwards.

The event was held at the Natal Mounted Rifles army base, which is staffed by volunteers, since their regiment used to ride horses, and now they ride tanks.
We're not currently at war with anyone (touch wood!) so the base is really more museum and training co-ordinations centre, but all of the soldiers that were involved were really friendly and helpful.


We had a fair number of fighters and limited time, so we had to drop the polearm category and only offer singles longsword and sword and shield in knockout pools. So of course, I got to fight Hylton, our Team SA Vice-Captain first. This guy is awesome with a longsword, and so he won the bout in two rounds. This is us:
Knocked out in round one, I was quite bleak because I had been working towards this event for months. But it was Hylton, so I couldn't really be too upset. I have a lot of respect for that guy as a person and a fighter, and I was glad that he got to go on, since he drove all the way down from Joburg to compete. He ended up winning the division.
Unfortunately, none of my other girls in armour came to fight that day, so it was just me in my new "ladycoat" as one of our fighters, Jimmy-Steve dubbed it.
To me it sounds like a feminine hygiene product and so according to Sod's Law, the name will probably stick.

Josh also fought in longsword and sword and shield, but had to withdraw because his finger got really badly mashed during one of the bouts.
This is him in the red fighting Jimmy-Steve in the green:
 And afterwards:
One of our newer guys, Floppy, didn't have enough armour to compete, so for sword and shield, I withdrew and lent him some gear so that he could fight. He gave a good account of himself, although he got beaten by the more experienced fighters.

At the end of the day, there was the first buhurt to happen in a South African tournament. Josh couldn't compete because of his finger, and we could only make teams of three. Two of our young, keen fighters desperately wanted to go in against the Joburg guys, and I didn't have the heart to deny them, so once again, I kitted up someone else with my gear and sent our guys out to fight.

Yes, we got beaten, but it was a very good experience and a good start for buhurt in our country. Also a very good day for the sport in general, since we had a number of people interested in training with us.
Here is the fight.

And that is my news for now.

Next week: I'll tell you all about how Josh and I made The Great Decision.