It was definitely worth waiting for 15 hours. After the 1st group of the organization landed in Cape Town International Airport, the Mother City welcomed us with summer sunshine and breeze. Our 1st day in Cape Town started fresh, light and with an exciting feeling.
Having a glimpse of different scenery on the bus from the airport, we arrived at a hostel on Kloof Street. After finding our comfort in the new city, we visited our home base, which will be used as our office for the next 3 months. Except for a 400m² empty space, roof top terrace and wifi access, there was nothing but possibility.
Our first task for the organization was to make the office functional. Having done 4 big parties and other similar assignments in the 1st year at Kaospilot, where we built and designed the space from scratch with limited budget and time, this given task was not surprising.
It’s been a while since our last post. We have been reflecting our journey in Cape Town and now are getting ready to take new challenges this year. As we did last year, we will be spending three months in Cape Town from march to june 2014. Continue reading
My cellphone was stolen last night. I wasn’t even drunk (because I’ve stopped drinking – if you’re asking yourself why on earth I would do such a thing, read this). It all happened in a matter of seconds, so swiftly I couldn’t possibly retrace my steps and how it had happened. When I realised it was gone, the person whose hands or pocket’s it’s now in was probably in the vicinity, watching me discover that I had been robbed. Perhaps even attempting to pretend to help look for it, who knows.
During Infecting the City, a week long art and performance festival on the streets of Cape Town, we went to Thibault Square to watch a few skateboarders jump from the top of the three big steps on the plaza. In a way it seemed like a show – a MC was rapping and many people stood watching and clapping. At first we did not understand why the whole event seemed so unstructured and why only one out of five jumps were successfully landed. Once we heard the story it became clear: this was not a performance, it was a training jam, and it was a “reclaiming” of the square. Before ‘95 Thibault Square had been THE place to skate in Cape Town, in spite of Apartheid and a divided skateboard community, this was where everyone skated together – black and white, rich and poor, street skaters and ramp skaters – gathered at Thibault Square.
We can easily be oblivious to the good things in our lives that we take for granted and it sometimes takes a cultural shock to realize how lucky we are. Being a student from the north and a boy from the countryside, I’ve always seen the presence of nature as the most natural thing in the world. I grew up climbing trees in my back yard, running through cornfields while playing hide and seek and having a vegetable garden from which we would enjoy what seemed to be an abundance of free food during the summers. These are things I take for granted and for that I feel extremely privileged! Now I’m in Cape Town and the story here looks very different. There are greens areas outside the city centre but to access these takes effort; an effort not many have the resources to make.
The Value of Creativity
Creativity is one of the key ingredients in solving the world’s financial problems. Though bringing creativity into the center of the economic debate we will elevate the discussion out of the wall street board rooms, up through the stratosphere, into an enlightened understanding of value. Even all but the most hard nose economist must acknowledge the value of creativity, yet how can that value be taken seriously, and measured? At least part of the answer lies at the roots of our current economic paradigm. Continue reading
I have recently come back from a year away, studying Social Entrepreneurship in Sweden and travelling to South America to deepen my knowledge through an internship.
When I left South Africa I was deeply frustrated by everything, I was a few moments away from imploding. Honestly, each time I think of the weeks leading up to receiving my residence permit, I remember that unbearable feeling of desperately wanting to get away from here. I was frustrated by my skin colour, my gender, my anger, the ugliness and pain in our society which showed itself through hate crime and gruesome violence, I was tired of looking over my shoulder each time I walked home or down the road to the store at night, I was exhausted at constantly feeling like I needed to prove how “South African” I was, to anyone and everyone (and sometimes even myself), I was well over the feeling of misunderstanding others and feeling misunderstood myself, I had grown weary of all relation with other people. I was in a bad space and the only remedy I saw was leaving as soon as I could. Continue reading