New North Ghost

Interviewer: “So tell me more about this story, how did it start and become this huge legend?”

MA: Basically, I live in New North, and there’s always floods, or leaks, or water damage happening in the building. There’s this story where this girl died in the communal showers a long long time ago, and her ghost haunts peoples rooms. If your room gets a leak or water damage, she’s picked you to be her next victim.

Interviewer: Interesting, do a lot of people in your dorm believe this or is it more of a joke amongst residents”

MA: “Yea, honestly it’s a big deal and people get kind of freaked out going to the bathroom or showering late at night. My friends place had a leak and people have been teasing her about slipping and dying in the shower so she’s been extra careful”

Context: The informant first heard this story from her RA, and was told the entire dorm flooded the year before. She, and other residents her age tell this story for entertainment value, however some residents, including the one interviewed, believe the story enough to be wary and cautious when in the communal bathrooms.

Analysis: This is a classic ghost tale, however this could be employed from the RA’s to redirect attention from the water problems and convert it into folklore, as its transmission amongst residents is rapid and it seems to have grabbed their attention. This cautionary tale functions beyond a warning, it creates communitas between residents allowing them to bond over their shared belief, and the story evolves and changes the more exposure it gets, feeding more into the folklore.

First Sale: Bell Ringing

OB: At the Real Estate firm that I interned at, they have this massive brass bell in the lobby that no one is allowed to touch. When a new agent closes their very first deal, the entire office stops working and the intern rings the bell as hard as they can. We weren’t allowed to decorate our desk or put up our nameplate until the bell was rung.

Context: The informant is a senior majoring in business who I met during a group project. He witnessed and eventually participated in this ritual of initiation in a formal business setting. To him, the bell ringing felt like a public and declaritive validation of his professional worth.

Analysis: This is a ritual of initiation as well as a transformation ritual. He not only was initiated into a new group of people with shard folkloristic practices, he was also transformed into an official worker for the company, marking a period in which he became a legitimate member of a community. This status elevation ceremony transitions him from a state of dependency to a state of agency.

“Something Blue

Interviewer: “Can you please repeat what you just told me, because it is a great example of a ritual and folk tradition!”

OB: “In my Family, the “something blue” in wedding superstition has to be a blue thread sewn into the hem of the dress in the shape of an anchor. It is supposed to keep the marriage grounded, and supposedly keeps the couple together.

Context: OB’s cousin is getting married in the summer, and she wanted all her family members to sew blue anchors into the hem of their suits. He has learned this tradition for as long as he can remember in his family, however he has never participated himself because it is typically the bride. he is a gay male, and wants to eventually use the tradition in his suit when he gets married, carrying on the tradition in his own way.

Analysis: This is a great example of how a very broad and popularized tradition is localized into a more narrow specific familial tradition. This is an example of material culture, in which an object is representative of a folk belief of a tradition. This could be perceived as a ritual of intensification as it strengthens the bond between romantic partners as well as their families.

Biltong – South Africa’s meat

Age: 21

Collection Date: 04/29/2026

Context:

My mom’s side of the family immigrated from South Africa when they were really young. My cousins on that side all have had more experiences and exposure to South African culture because their dad immigrated from South Africa much later, when he was in his thirties. I remember going to their house as a kid and seeing biltong and being very interested in it. So to learn more, I called one of my cousins to ask more about the tradition.

Text:

My cousin goes to South Africa with her family on holiday very often. Nearly once or twice a year. She explains that meat is very central to the food culture. For example, when she was younger, her family would throw Braai (South African BBQs) for their neighbors and other Afrikaner families who lived in the area. The Braai were their way of sharing the fun side of South African culture. They would play South African music, play games, and cook South African food.

One of the foods her parents taught them to make is called boerworst (farmer’s sausage). It’s a traditional South African meat sausage that the whole family would make on the spot for the party guests. They would mix chopped onions and coriander with fatty tri-tip cuts, sometimes with pork. The meats weren’t lean, but quite juicy. My cousin was always in charge of the meat mincer, a large metal machine that ground up all the meat, onion, and coriander into a bowl. Then her sisters would take the ground meat and put it into a sausage-making machine. They used pig intestines for the sausage liner and turned the machine handle to crank out freshly made, delicious sausages. She remembers this being very fun while she was growing up, and looking back, it’s a fond memory. They’d give the boerworst out to guests as party snacks, and with the leftovers, they would stick them with a metal stick and put them into a homemade cardboard chicken-wire box in the garage. There, they had fans set up so that they could dry the meats out into droeworst. They would save these for snacks around the house. They’re easy to store, last a long time, and are seriously tasty.

Her parents are both immigrants, but her mom basically grew up in America because she moved so young. Her father on the other hand, lived most of his life in South Africa. When they decided to get together, they planned to live in America, but her dad really wanted to teach their kids South African traditions. It was important to him that, while they weren’t raised in South Africa, they would learn Afrikaans and Afrikaner music, and eat as well as make traditional foods.

One of her favorite foods to make and eat is biltong. Biltong is “the” South African food, like burgers or hot dogs for us Americans. For biltong, they would buy nice, high-quality tri-tip, going for very lean cuts. They would pack a suitcase full of spices like coriander and peri-peri when they visited South Africa, because the spices are rare and just not the same here. They wouldn’t really eat the peri-peri, though, because it’s too spicy. She explained that most South Africans can’t handle spicy foods, least of all her dad. They would use a biltong block (a huge knife with an attached cutting board that looks kind of like the huge cutting boards teachers used to cut stacks of paper) to cut it really, really thin, then stick it onto a thin metal spike. The meat spikes would be placed in the same boxes in their garage, with fans to quickly dry them out. They would eat these as a casual household snack. But her dad loved eating them with bread and butter as a biltong broodjie (pronounced “broikie”, meaning biltong bread). They would also put them in a gritty porridge called Pap, which was a great sweet-and-savory breakfast food.

I asked her if the biltong is any different from what they make here compared to what they make in South Africa. She explained that “the meat cuts are just fire in South Africa.” You just can’t beat the fresh cuts a meat they have. Growing up, the food didn’t feel South African; it was normal. They didn’t especially feel South African, but her parents would pack her little baggies of biltong for school. She’d share them with friends and get really mad if they made fun of or refused to eat any. I remember growing up, I was really weirded out by their biltong setup. The stakes of small cuts of dried meat were so weird-looking. My older cousins used to tease me, saying that it was bug meat, and I refused to ever try any until much later in life.

I also brought up how Biltong is becoming somewhat trendy. I have seen it on Instagram, in stores like Sprouts and Costco. In a way, biltong is a cultural ambassador for South Africa. She’s actually really happy because when she tells people she’s South African, they might say, “Oh, I love biltong.” It’s just a fun food to become popular and great to have some positive South African representation besides Chappie. I told her about Kalahari Biltong. The brand was founded by three non-Afrikaners after a great vacation. They ripped off the name from Famous Kalahari Biltong, an already existing biltong chain in South Africa. Its the biltong I see most commonly in stores and has the slogan “goodbye jerky, hello biltong.” Very American. She was somewhat surprised at this, because all she’s seen is the Costco’s biltong, which paid homage to its South African roots. In Kalahari’s case, the reference to South Africa was more of a marketing gimmick rather than any sign of respect.

We’re conflicted. On the one hand, it’s frustrating to her and me that companies like Kalahari Biltong are basically dressing up their product’s authenticity. They don’t proudly use South African suppliers, or give back to the community that gave them this product. And somehow, they are more popular in America than other brands that use century-old family recipes. On the other hand, it’s great that the food is gaining popularity and that people are learning about our culture. It’s great to see foods you grew up with in a store.

Analysis:

It’s really sweet to hear that her dad wanted to keep the traditions going. It also makes complete sense, because he had to give up a lot, like family and friends, to move here and start a family. To him, these traditions were home, and teaching them to his girls was creating a new home. To my cousin, the traditions are home as well. They were normal, integrated, and part of their culture, and what made them unique. I always remember growing up, they did feel different. Even for me with my South African roots. They embraced their roots, while others like me are only just discovering them.

For her and her sisters, making boerworst was a family event. She mentioned how at the braai, they weren’t just showing food. They were showing their strong family values and culture. It was undercover diplomacy. The whole family was helping make food. Nobody left hungry, everyone enjoyed. It’s something she looks back on fondly, and it brought her and her sisters really close together.

It’s also really interesting to see how a simple food holds so much power. It’s fun to hear people talk about biltong when they hear South Africa, because as silly as the food or connection is, it’s real and it’s our culture. The food is showing what it means to be South African to average Americans; it’s approachable, it’s easy, and it tastes really good. When my cousin’s gave out South African foods, they did it from a place of passion. Food doesn’t preach, yet it’s a really effective communicator.

But what upsets my cousin and I is seeing others profiting from that culture. For Kalahari Biltong, biltong isn’t a passion, interest, or any sort of personal connection to the culture. It’s a product. These tourists created a company to make money. The brand’s story centers around them, not the people, the country, or the food. I think that is what my cousin found upsetting about it. The fact that the brand wasn’t showing any appreciation beyond the bare minimum. That makes it really difficult when the brand is so popular. We love what the company is doing, spreading South African culture and good food. But we don’t like why they’re doing it.

My cousin hasn’t tried Kalahari’s biltong, and she probably won’t. She has tried the Costco version of biltong. She explained, “The cuts of meat just aren’t the same.” Her family made them out of larger, higher-quality slices. She appreciated it, but it couldn’t beat the ones she made at home, and definitely not the biltong in South Africa. The taste was similar, but that doesn’t make it authentic. Kalahari’s choice of slogan, “goodbye jerky, hello biltong,” is also worth some attention. It suggests that biltong is a replacement or an alternative for American culture instead of its own unique thing. We don’t need biltong to replace beef jerky.

When community folklore gets commodified, something is lost for those who grew up with it. The authenticity comes from an individual’s context and experience. To an average American, that biltong is about as real as it gets. It might as well be speaking Afrikaans. To me, maybe it’s partially authentic. But, to my cousin, it’s just not and it can never be.

South African Folk Songs – “My Sarie Marais” & “Deur die Bos”

Collection date: 4/25/2026

Context:

My mom immigrated to California with her parents and two siblings from South Africa when she was four. They moved for work opportunities. Growing up, her family wanted to preserve their culture as much as possible. They learned Afrikaans (the primary language in South Africa) to use around the house, ate traditional foods, and learned some smaller customs. As she tells me, my family comes primarily from the Dutch Huguenots who settled in South Africa and are called Boers. Aside from passing the culture down to their kids, my family also made a point of teaching others. One way, mom told me about is how she and her family used to teach South African folk dances and songs to kids.

Text:

My mom and her siblings learned the children’s songs or “Boeremusiek” around the house from my Ouma (grandma) and Oupa (Grandpa) growing up, similar to “how most people might learn Patty Cake or Ring around a Rosy.” My Ouma organized the lessons and taught my mom and her siblings the basic dance moves to choreograph. Her siblings, who were older, already knew some of the dances because they were children’s playground dances they played back in school. To get people involved, they would invite friends, or people they knew through Cub Scouts, Girl Scouts, or other social communities.

My mom and her siblings borrow a room from the local community center and walk the kids through the dance moves. One of the moves she remembers is kids making arches with one another and then running through the middle, They would learn the moves to these dances for about a month then put on a performance once they were all ready for everyone’s parents. For the performance itself, my Oum (uncle) would play the accordion, and my Tannie (aunt) would play the recorder while my mom would sing the lyrics in Afrikaans.

Some of the lyrics as she remembers:

My Sarie Marais:

Unique melody for this song.

“My Sarie Marais is so ver van my af
Ek hoop haar weer te sien
Sy het in die wyk van die Mooirivier gewoon
Nog voor die oorlog het begin
O bring my terug na die ou Transvaal
Daar waar my Sarie woon
Daar onder in die mielies by die groen doring boom
Daar woon my Sarie Marais (2x)

Ek was so bang dat die Kaakies my sal vang
En ver oor die see sal voer”

Which she translated to:

“My Sarie Marais (Sarah Marie) is so far from me now
I hope to see her again
She lived on the shore of the Mooi river
Before this old war began
O bring me back to the old Transvaal
There where my Sarie lives
There under all the corn near the green tree with thorns
There lives my Sarie Maraie(2x)

I was so afraid, that the redcoats would catch me
and send me far away overseas”

She believes the song originates from the Boer wars of the 18th century as England was trying to colonize the land. The story of the song is from a prisoner of war longing for his girl being sent overseas as a prisoner of war. We looked up the lyrics for reference after and saw that the final two verses were cut from most versions. My mom suspects this is done to make the song more timeless, less sad and removed from the war.

Deur Die Bos

To the melody of London Bridge

“Janna Janna deur die bos
deur die bos
deur die bos
Mama kook mos lekker kos
lekker kos”

Which she translates to:

“Janna Janna through the bush
through the bush
through the bush
My mom does make good food,
she makes good food”

My mom imagines this is just a fun children’s song of kids playing in the woods convincing themselves to go back home because the food is tasty or they smell good food cooking back home. We tried looking this one up, but couldn’t really find much on it. Maybe not as much history behind this song as Sarie Marais, but still quite a fun song and it was definitely given more meaning being a representation of South African culture.

Analysis:

We had difficulty finding copies of Deur Die Bos online. This suggests that the folk song may have strong oral roots, but might not be recorded anywhere, especially not on an American folklore site. That makes the entry quite unique and valuable for me.

Although my mom and her siblings grew up learning and singing some of these folk songs in South Africa, the performances weren’t the same when they performed the same songs in California. The context, like the location and reason for the song’s performance, changed completely, changing the overall meaning of the performance under the ideas of performance theory. Back home, they were common children’s games, not much to look at; everyone knew them. But in California, the songs were a way to connect people and communicate identity. Because they were foreign, it was kind of like displaying new things in a museum to show what they’re about. The dances and songs were a way for my mom and her siblings to stay connected to their family history and culture. Alone, the dances might not seem like much, but they were part of larger family traditions carried to America that included speaking Afrikaans and eating traditional foods. My Ouma (grandma) and Oupa (grandpa) allowed their kids to adapt to much of American life. But they wanted to preserve aspects of their unique culture and traditions. By learning and performing these songs in America, they were able to hold on to and preserve those.

My mom said that she knew many friends who had immigrant parents and sometimes those traditions are lost or forgotten. Her mom taught the dances and shew grew up learning the songs from friends and family. She’s glad she learned the songs and played them with her siblings because being a first generation immigrant isn’t always easy. There are many pressures to fit in and forget about who you were of what your family is because it’s weird, unfamiliar or foreign. But the performances rejected that assimilation. They also were a way for her and her family to connect with each other. They didn’t really know any other South African families, so they had to be there for each other. The performances brought the family closer together by uniting everyone with a goal and identity. My mom thinks the dances were kind of silly looking back, but she’s glad she did it because small things like that made them a closer family.

The dance lessons also were a way for her family to share who they were to others. Especially when not many people knew about South Africa. Often, the few things Americans knew about South Africa wasn’t always positive. It was a very time where her and her parents had to navigate a complicated but generally negative global reputation. So, her family were in a way acting as diplomats to share what it really means to be South African. To humanize the culture and people beyond what the news might focus on. These folk music lessons were a small but impactful way to share that culture with others.