Short story that I wrote during my second year at Kaospilot while in Cape Town, South Africa.
“The heat touches my skin and I can feel a slight burning sensation on my arms. It’s only 10 o’clock but the sun is already out there making itself known to the word brightly and without excuses. I am standing on the balcony of the Kaospilot homebase. Table mountain is looking at me between the small kiosk and at little yellow house down the road. It’s all quite surreal. Especially when imagining that my friends and family at home is currently freezing in snowy surroundings. Does it really all happen at the same time? Or did the world just take a break while we are down here in Cape Town? At Fredriksallé in Århus someone is biking right now, probably annoyed that the wind somehow always blows in the wrong direction. The voices inside reaches the balcony and tells me that the break is over. Inside most people have sat down on the floor. Some are standing drinking their coffee, still hanging on to some intense conversation.
Today’s lecture is provoking. Somehow these issues just got personal. It used to be a historical chapter of apartheid and how South Africa developed, but today it got personal. I’ve been living separated from these issues my entire life, not having to care since it was never really my problem. Today it became my problem. Because I am white; because I am on a global level part of an oppressing system. And it is starring me in the face. And on some level still, I feel like a victim. I was never asked to be part of this system, I was born into it. Maybe we are all victims.
I leave the lecture not knowing what to feel about myself. What to do with this new insight? feeling trapped in this system?
I go outside. The sun immediately caresses my skin. This time I put on sunblock.”