So I’m a half-Afrikaans, half-English, half-Jewish, half-German, that grew up climbing trees and had ice cream cakes with Barbies on top of every birthday cake. I was raised by KTV, my parents and our domestic worker, Mondi. I went to an Afrikaans school, with traditions I now despise but I’m glad I went cause it taught me ‘how not to be’. I wanted to be Ally Mcbeal but didn’t want to study law or hallucinate babies dancing in my workplace corridors so I studied drama so I can play the role of Ally. I now do stand-up but sometimes sit down in English about being Afrikaans and from Bloemfontein but living in Cape Town. That’s me in a nutshell…not that I actually think I live in a nutshell because otherwise I would be incredibly scared of squirrels and Im not. I love squirrels, not in a weird ‘I-talk-to-them-at-the-company-gardens’ kind of way, but just a nice ‘I-say-ah’ when I see a picture of them with a hat on.
So I’m a halfie, a run of the mill ‘bit of this and that’ but aren’t you glad we are surrounded by people who are way more than a ‘this and thatter’ – even if they are the Steve Hofmeyrs or the Julius Malemas – it makes life so so interesting. Basically we’re living in an awesome country. We’re all so freaking diverse it chokes me up. I came across this qoute and I thought it was pretty much spot on:
In a way, it’s like the World Cup, where the dream of welcoming ‘the world’ allowed us to feel, for a few weeks, that the country where we would like to live really existed. Not Singapore, not Switzerland, not Sweden, but a warm hearted, vibey, ordinary country in the South. But the World Cup as an ideological project pivoted, really, on our deeply charged, troubled, relation with the North; our desire to be recognized and seen by something we call the World. It was, in other words narcissistic in the strict sense of the word; a desire to appear in a certain way in the eyes of an authoritative Other. The moment that Other disappeared, the moment we were no longer on the TV screens, the moment we could no longer see ourselves reflected in the distorting mirror of the World’s gaze, the warm glow disappeared. – Andries du Toit at “A Subtle Knife” Blog
I say: ‘bring the glow back, but not for the silly North for us, Dali Tambo’s People of the South’. Yes I have a world cup hangover, mostly because I drank way too much during that time and I probably still haven’t recovered but by showing off over that time, it made us all realise just how much ‘better’ we are – not in a weird ‘America-yeah’ kinda way, but in a humble ‘did-you-see-me-help-that-old-lady-cross-the-street’ kinda way. So here, enjoy this ad from Kulula.