‘The stress is gonna kill me,’ Lukaya points out and refers to his high blood pressure. He sits on a toolbox in a shed made out of corrugated iron shining bright like silver. I feel sorry about him. More than three years ago he welcomed me into his house ‘like a son’. He did not want . . . → Read More: Mythic Poison: A Man Fears his Wife
I give Juan a lift to his (ex)girlfriend. We ride on one of Cape Town’s highways to reach her workplace, a pub. They haven’t seen each other since she simulated a pregnancy. When we arrive Marika smiles. Both disappear. I sit at the bar and think of reasons why she could have simulated the pregnancy. ‘Men . . . → Read More: Love & Simulated Pregnancy
‘Heil Hitler’ yells the lady and raises her arm. Then Dudrik blasts in to tell her that I am not fond of ‘him’. I hate when people respond like this because I’m from Germany but this time it is rather comical. The grey haired woman looks at me with her eyes wide opened while cowing on . . . → Read More: The Muslim brother
This evening, I have difficulties to concentrate on my reading. Tiffany and George argue in the lounge. The young man knocks the door and asks me to take him to the mall. The cold wind and the rain makes walking unbearable. On our way he confides that he feels hurt. After seven months of marriage Tiffany . . . → Read More: The Wrong Man: Lanie Marriage Problems
In the afternoon I visit Malusi in Khayelitsha, the largest black township in the Western Cape. Last time we met, he lived in his mother’s brick house which was built as part of a public housing scheme a couple of years before. Now I find him in a informal settlement just nearby. I am surprised. Burglar . . . → Read More: Transforming Gender Norms
At night it started to become cold. George lit a fire for the braai. I stayed outside with him when he turned a piece of lamb every 10 seconds. He said he would count silently. This was the best way to keep it juicy, he made clear and differentiated from his friends who carelessly put it . . . → Read More: Love beyond male stereotypes?
It was a sunny morning in autumn when I arrived in the mother city. The airport had changed significantly. It seemed that everybody was training for the world cup that was about to start in 26 days. The rental car area became almost as big as the old arrival hall. After a failed attempt to pick . . . → Read More: My new suburban home