Bo-Kaap Colors and Sounds

It was close to departure. Time was running out. Deep into the complex systems of South African Airways, digits were flicking and a plane had been dispatched to fetch us (or so I like to think). It would arrive five days later. Time was recoiling on itself as always before a jump and we were nervously trying…

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I Did Nothing

Thinking back to the Cuban refugees, I have also been pondering our own situation these days and past. Sure, Marie and I have been living our lives for years like Formula One drivers on the Monaco race track, through an urban tangle of chicanes and tight turns, high-speed stretches, blind corners and narrow roads, heel-and-toe shifting, split-second…

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