Tag Archives: South Africa

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.

Bobotie – South African Dish

Age: 52

Collected 4/18/2026

Context:

My mom immigrated from South Africa to California as a child, growing up she was raised mostly as any other American child in the area would have been. But, to help and her siblings connect with their culture and history, her parents would occasionally cook them all bobotie, a traditional south African meat dish that is kind of like a meatloaf.

Text:

My mom explained, that once every two weeks, her parents would cook her and her siblings foods from South Africa. This wasn’t anything special, “just a nice family dinner to give us a taste of home.” One of the most memorable dishes for her growing up was Bobotie. The recipe originates in the lower Cape, but her family was north-east of Johannesburg, quite a ways from the historical origins. The recipe, as she explained, was fairly common in South Africa; they used a printed poster brought with them when they immigrated, which listed the ingredients and instructions. She says, “that poster is probably still somewhere in their family house.” But, back when her parents were cooking (this was 30-40 years ago) things like curry powder and chutney weren’t available at your local grocery store. So, her parents had to substitute other ingredients. For example, one that she remembered was substituting apricot jam for the chutney. Her family also commonly used raisins, bananas and other fruits to add to the sweet profile of the dish. To her this was normal, but back then, fruits and meat weren’t a common combination in American cuisines. She wasn’t embarrassed though, as she told me “it does remind you that you’re different, but that’s just a thing our family.” For her and her family, it was a way to connect with their roots and pass on some of that identity to my mom and her siblings who grew up primarily in America.

One funny memory my mom mentioned is that her family would sometimes serve the Bobotie to her friends when they stayed over. To most kids, this was a really strange (never-before-seen food). So, to mess with them, my mom and her parents would tell the kids they’re eating elephant stew, which surprisingly worked. Most of the friends she remembered trying it thought it was tasty and quite exotic.

She never really got to try the original until much later in life when visiting her “home town” in South Africa, but by that point, the California Bobotie was the norm. So, when she tried the real thing, she was kinda disappointed. Funny enough, “it didn’t taste nostalgic or like home because it was different.” She can’t remember whether her parents told her that they were substituting ingredients or not, but it didn’t matter. Because to her, the substitutions were the dish.

Analysis:

Before I go into my analysis, I should note my perspective. I grew up with similar cultural exposure. Especially from my mom’s side of the family and my cousins. So, to me some of these things were normal. I wasn’t eating weird foods, but also, I wasn’t raised with as much influence as she was. So to me, these things are somewhat normal, but also somewhat foreign.

One thing from this story that interests me is how the substitutions were forced by a necessity. The ingredients just didn’t exist in common grocery stores, so her family had to create their own “spin” on the dish, which I’m sure wasn’t uniquely their substitution. After a quick Google search, it looks like substituting the chutney is a fairly common thing to do. So many other families in similar situations might have made similar adaptations or substitutions when bringing the food here. My Oupa and Ouma weren’t degrading the dish or making it any less, they were adapting it to their environment so that that culture might continue to exist in their children.

As mentioned, my mom grew up mostly like any other American child. But small things like this are examples of how her parents allowed her to grow up in a new environment while maintaining that cultural identity and connection. And to that effect it worked. She doesn’t remember much else of what they did that was South African, maybe because whatever they did was just “normal” to her growing up that was all she saw. But, seeing and tasting a different food definitely resonated with her.

It’s also so funny that they all leaned into the weird or exotic food aspect. That really sounds in character for my Ouma to mess with someone like that. They didn’t hide the food when friends came over, instead they made it seem exotic by using the unfamiliarity of it. Also, it kind of flipped the roles. Typically, I would have pictured my mom to be embarrassed or nervous for her friends judging the food, but the joke reverses that idea, allowing my family to hold the power in the situation. They’re in on the joke, the other kid, not so much.

But, by far the most interesting piece to me is how my mom mentions that the California Bobotie was just Bobotie. To her, the substitution and “odd” recipe is what she grew up with, so trying the “real thing” felt weird. This shows that there is no one way to do something; instead, it’s in the cultural context and shared meaning that makes it the “right way” or normal. It’s all about perception and experience. The authenticity and connection to the food come from repeated experiences, not just the origin. This highlights the loose boundaries that can make it difficult to categorize or “own” folklore.

This raises a serious question we’ve asked in class. What makes folklore genuine? Well, my mom’s experience would suggest that authenticity is not about adherence, but about shared value and experience. To her, the California Bobotie was more authentic and genuine than any traditional Bobotie could ever be.

The Lion, the Hare, and the Hyena

Main Text

KK: “One of them was called The Lion, the Hare, and the Hyena and that story essentially goes there was this lion named Simba, um, not from the Lion King, but you know he had gotten injured on a hunt and he was living in his cave and he was, you know, starving to death because he couldn’t really go out and get anymore food. And eventually this hare, um, came up to him and was like ‘Hey, you know, I’m a really well-renowned doctor around these parts. I can heal you up, just you know, I can lure some animals in here and you can hunt them because I can’t really get my own food and we can help each other out.’ And the lion was hesitant at first because he was a solitary creature, his pride wasn’t really with him anymore. But eventually the hare moved into the lions cave and they started helping each other out. The lion would hunt whenever he could and provide food for the both of them, while the hare nursed his wound. And then eventually this hyena, who was kinda a notorious trickster around the area, walked up and was like ‘Oh hey, Mr. Lion. I noticed that you’re, like, a little injured. Have you been getting treatment?” So the lion explained that he was getting treated by the hare who was famous around as like a doctor. And the hyena said ‘Well, you know, if he’s that good then I feel like your leg should have been healed a lot quicker.’ And the lion thought for a second and he was like ‘Yeah, you know if he is that good my leg should have been healed way quicker.’ The hyena was then like ‘You know, maybe me and you could go out hunting together sometime and I could help you out with your leg. And at this point the lion kind of sussed out that something was going on so he sent the hyena away. And the hyena came back the next day, but the hare was also there, and so the hyena said ‘Oh Lion, like, you wanna go hunting? I can help you out, you can help me out, etcetera.’ And he was eyeing up the hare in a really kind of predatory way, you know like he wanted to eat him. And the lion noticed and was like ‘No. Get out, you need to leave.’ Hyena came back the next day while the hare was out doing something and he said ‘Hey Lion, you know, like I promise you this guy’s a really good doctor and he could have healed your leg in a couple of days, but I think he’s keeping you injured so you two, um, so you can keep supporting him.’ And then what happened was the hare came back. and the hyena left, and the lion explained to the hare, he was like, ‘Hey, you know, if you’re such a good doctor, why, haven’t you healed me quicker?’ And the hare, and the hare was like ‘Well, where’d you hear this from, you know, I’m doing the best I can. I’m trying to help you out.’ And the lion said ‘Oh, from the hyena he keeps coming to visit.’ And then the hare kind of got the idea. He said ‘Oh, okay, well that’s actually really convenient, because if I get the skin off the back of a hyena, I can use it to patch your leg up instantly. I just haven’t had the chance to get it.’ So the hyena came back the next day and was like ‘Hey, lion!’ And he saw the hare next to him. He was like ‘We don’t have any need for this stupid hare anymore. We should just eat him, and you know I can heal your leg.’ And the the lion just immediately clocked what was going on and just jumped on the hyena, you know, tore the skin off his back and gave it to the hare. The hyena ran away embarrassed and you could tell that’s kind of like an origin story, for why hyenas have those like coarse hairs along their back, because the lion ripped it out and so the the hare was like ‘Hey I’ll patch your leg up all good’ and with the power of magic, and the hyenas skin the lion was healed, and they lived happily ever after.”

Background

KK is a 21 year old USC student studying psychology on a pre-med track. Of Indian descent, he was originally born in South Africa but has lived in England, the UAE and now in New York, Ny. KK heard this story for the first time as a child still living in South Africa from his grandmother. He says that it was one of Nelson Mandela’s favorite folk tales, and it has since become one of his.

Context

KK says that this tale is most commonly told as a bedtime story for children and that it also serves as a myth for the origin from the raised hairs running along the backs of wild hyenas. This story also serves to impart a moral onto its listeners that lying has bad consequences and telling the truth is always the noble path.

Interviewer Analysis

I could not find the ATU type number for this story exactly but there are plenty of folktales out there that carry similar themes and morals. Hyenas and jackals are often trickster characters in these stories, trying to convince the stronger, sometimes less clever, lion into helping them in some way. These stories usually end in the same way as well, with the lion realizing he has been tricked and then punishing the hyena thus showing the listener of the story, most often a child, that lying is an undesirable trait and that it leads to your own downfall. Stories with morals for children are not groundbreaking novelties, but the added bonus that this story also serves as an origin for a natural phenomenon is interesting.

The Sultan’s Daughter

Main Text

KK: “The next one is called the Sultan’s Daughter. Yeah, it’s called the Sultan’s Daughter, and it’s about, the main character is not the Sultan’s daughter, it’s the son of a king in one, in one country, and he sets out on a journey. His father wants to know if he’s you know responsible, and worthy of becoming king when he grows up. So he gives the Prince a bag of of money, and gives the Prince a sword, and he says ‘Okay, you know, go out and figure out what’s happening.’ So the Prince leaves, with him he has a bag of money, a sword, and a horse. And so he treks through a couple of different countries, and eventually the horse dies of starvation or dehydration, one of the two. But the Prince is in great spirits, you know, he has a general love of life and a love of the world. He loves exploring, so he just keeps walking by himself, and eventually he stumbles across this old ruin of like a temple, and he sees these two men with pickaxes digging up a grave. And they take out a skeleton from the grave, and so he he pulls out his sword, he’s a very righteous person, and he points it at them he says ‘Hey, stop! You know you can’t do that, you’re, that’s sacrilege.’ And the two bandits they say ‘Well, no, this man in his life owed us a great debt, and now that he’s dead, you know, we’re just coming to collect.’ The Prince said ‘I understand that you were owed a debt, but you know the man is dead now, and you can’t just defile his grave. I mean he’s probably not at peace with the fact that he never got to pay that debt himself, so let that be his punishment.’ The two men were like ‘Okay, well, sure, but we still need our money.’ So the prince said ‘Well, how about I pay you? and if I do, you have to promise to put those bones back and cover the grave with the utmost respect.’ And so the Prince paid them, and they put the bones back and covered it up, and once the Prince paid them, he realized ‘Oh, I’m out of money.’ So he had now no horse, no money, but he still just kept walking and he was still having a great time. He was loving life. And then he met this, this man who we’ll just refer to as friend for the rest of it. And this friend approached him and was like ‘Hey, wow! you’re traveling! I could travel with you for a bit.’ And he had a good, you know, he had an honest looking face, so the Prince was like ‘Yeah, of course, you know, come along with me.’ So the prince and his friend kept traveling, and then they stumbled upon the city. And as they walked into the city there was this beautiful, beautiful woman, the most beautiful that the prince had ever seen. And so he turned to his friend and was like ‘Wow! Who’s that?’ And his friend goes ‘Oh, that’s the sultan’s daughter but if you want her hand in marriage you have to, you know, solve her riddle correctly. Thousands have tried, but if you fail, you get put to death.’ The Prince was like ‘Man you know even though that’s a little cruel I’m in love. This is the woman for me. I’m gonna solve the riddle.’ So then the friend was like ‘You know, Why don’t we just go to bed, and well, when you have a fresh mind tomorrow you can go tackle the riddle.’ So they went to bed, and the friend woke up in the middle of the night, and he fashioned some wings out of just loose hay in the barnyard they were staying at and he took some of the hay as well and fashioned like a little bracken whip. And so he he flew out to the Sultan’s palace, and he waited for the daughter, who also had golden wings Just by the power of magic and she flew out of the palace like in the dead of night, and she flew to this witch’s cave. But the whole time she was being followed by the friend and the whole time the friend was, you know, beating her back with the the bracken whip. She didn’t notice she thought it was just the raindrops hitting her back in like a painful way and it didn’t leave any marks. So she gets to the witch’s hut, or the witch’s cave, and she goes and is like ‘Hey, like you know I need a new riddle this man is gonna come ask for something.’ So the witch is like ‘Okay, well, he’ll never get this. Tell him to, tell him to like answer: what am I thinking about right now? what is the princess thinking about? and the answer should be your gloves.’ So the next day they wake up and the friend goes ‘Hey, you know, if the princess asks you what she’s thinking about, say her gloves.’ And he goes in, and he gives the correct answer, and the princess is mad. She’s like ‘It shouldn’t be this easy, you know. No, come back tomorrow.’ Then the Prince is, he’s a good guy so he’s like ‘Oh, I mean I thought it was only a one time deal, but sure I like you so much I’ll come back tomorrow.’ So he he goes to bed, and the same thing happens. The next night the friend follows her to the witches hut, beating her with the lashes, and she, the witch gives a new riddle, and the new riddle is again: what am I thinking about? And the answer is the crown on top of my head. And so the next morning the friend says to the Prince ‘Hey, If again, she asks what you’re thinking about say the crowd on top of her head.’ So he goes in, gives the riddle correctly and the the Princess is furious. She’s like ‘There’s no way. This should not be this easy, come back tomorrow.’ So again, same thing happens. she flies out, and she gets beaten with the lashes. So she flies back for the third time, and the witch says ‘Okay, this time he’ll never get this. Tell him that you’re thinking about my head, the witch’s head. And so the princess flies back, and as she’s flying back, she’s like ‘Wow, you know my back is cut so much from this rain I’m never visiting this witch again.’ So then the friend has been waiting outside the witches cavern the whole time, and he draws a sword, and as the witch pokes her head out he cuts it off and he puts the head in a bag, and he goes back to the prince. And the next morning the prince wakes up, and the friend is like ‘Hey when the Princess asks what she’s thinking about just show her whatever is in this bag, but don’t open it till you get there’ and he gives him the bag with the head in it. The good prince goes in once again, and the Princess asks ‘What am I thinking about?’ And he he doesn’t say anything because he’s like ‘Okay? Well, I wasn’t given anything to say.’ And the guards draw their swords and the executioner has the axe at the ready and he’s like ‘Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait one sec’ and he reaches into the bag and pulls out the witch’s head, and you know, in classic fairytale fashion the princess is wooed and falls into his arms and is like ‘Yes, this is him. This is the man that I’m gonna marry.’ And the Prince is super stoked. He’s like ‘Oh, yes, I just got, you know, the prettiest girl in the whole land.’ So then he goes back to his friend and he’s like ‘Yo like it worked I mean’ and his friend is like ‘Oh, that’s great for you.’ And the Prince is like ‘So, you know, I gotta go back home to tell my dad, but when can I see you again?’ And his friend goes ‘Well, actually you know you’re not gonna ever see me again. Like I’m done here.’ And the prince is like ‘What do you mean?’ The man says ‘Do you remember when you stopped those two men from defiling that grave?’ And the Prince is like ‘Yeah, yeah, I mean I just thought it was the right thing to do.’ The man’s like ‘Actually that was my grave and you know I’m just here to help you out because you helped me out.’ Yeah, that’s the end of the story.”

Background

KK is a 21 year old USC student studying psychology on a pre-med track. Of Indian descent, he was originally born in South Africa but has lived in England, the UAE and now in New York, Ny. KK heard this story for the first time as a child still living in South Africa from his grandmother. It was his favorite and would ask for this story to be told to him over and over again. He thinks it is his favorite because he connects so well with the overall moral of the story.

Context

KK says that the Sultan’s Daughter is another traditional South African folktale that would be told to children as a bed time story. The moral of this story in his words is that if you do good things, good things will come unto you and that you should have no desire for material goods. But you should use your resources to help others, and they will help you in return.

Interviewer Analysis

I found this story very interesting and over the course of the telling became wrapped up in the plot and the success of the main character, not just in analyzing the text. It is most often the most interesting tales that are carried on, as they are more memorable and more likely to be retold. This story certainly supports that hypothesis although it is admittedly quite long. As an emic observer this story makes perfect sense not only in its moral but also in its purpose.