Reflections from a short-left

Atop the Zuurberg mountain range sits a little-known hotel that is bloated with stories of the history of our country, tangled up with the memories of those that have visited as well as those that have worked there over the past 162 years of its existence.

The Zuurberg Mountain Village hotel is a 4-star hotel that overlooks parts of the Addo National Park. It is a beautiful place that welcomes you with breathtaking views at the end of a windy gravel road that ushers you up the mountain to the reveal of this little piece of heaven. The road demands your respect and full attention as it often brings you close to the very edges of life where one little mistake could lead to disaster. At the same time, it is a lovely drive that seems to unload your worries and cares with each kilometer covered.

We have visited this area numerous times over the years, from when I was a kid with family visits and later as an adult trying to trace the origins of my family. With all the stories shared by our parents and relatives, we have grown fond of this corner of the world we once called home but never could own a piece of land in it.

There used to be a small village called eQumsha around these lands, which was later swallowed up as part of the farms that were established as farmers moved into this area. Most of these farms would later be bought up by San-Parks and now make up part of the Addo National Park. My family draws part of its history from here, both as part of the village and as farmworkers in later years.

My great-grandfather, Diko Ntolosi, left his homeland around Cathcart in search for work moving to Port Elizabeth. He had 4 sons and 2 daughters and all 4 of his sons migrated to the Zuurberg area with later generations moving and spreading between East London, Port Elizabeth and the town of Addo. They were farm workers but between them they managed to build a bit of wealth that was ultimately taken on by the youngest of the 4 brothers.

My mother’s family on the other hand was mainly in domestic work with some of them working at the Zuurberg Mountain Village hotel. My aunt, who passed away last year, was named “Sotele” and growing up I always wondered what the meaning of this name was. Growing up and getting to understand the stories shared by the elders, I would later learn that “Sotele” is the shortening of a phrase that was used to describe and identify her as “usisi wase hotele” [the big sister from the hotel].

Zuurberg was to be the area where my parents’ families would meet and be united in the bond of family through the marriage between my parents in later years.

Feeling tired and needing a break I recently took a short-left to this area. While a lot of the people that connect me to these lands have long since been laid to rest. Their presence fills my heart with life and joy. To know they walked and worked the lands I travel through and, through me, they in fact walk the lands they slaved and worked in not as servers at the tables of those who dined but as the diners themselves.

I wonder what connection my kids will have not only with the areas they grew up in but also the industry I’ve worked in as it too will surely shape them as this place has done for me. I can only hope theirs will be an even richer story but more than anything else, I pray they come to appreciate these lands as a fundamental piece to their life’s story.

Where is your short-left and what lessons drawn from your family history make you the being that you bring to your personal and professional life, I wonder.