No answers for identity issues

My roommate has killed all the ants in the apartment. Using some sort of bug spray/powder, he put an end to the rule of the tiny insects which dotted our kitchen walls with their silent empire.

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. What does that say about my sense of belonging?

Which reminds me of one of my latest obsessions: Sub-Saharan Africa.

I’m only mildly obsessed with South Africa in specific, but it is indeed the country that intrigues me the most. Of those, white South Africans puzzle me even more.

How does a white person with their own local culture fit into a continent which seems so different from them? This sense of not-belonging is what has been quite key in my interest for the country.

It bears such a strong resemblance to Brazilian whites and especially those in the upper classes. How does one who cherishes imported ideals belong to a culture so deeply rooted in its own mélange?

For inspiration:

Die Antwoord is a South African act of seemingly Afrikaans background who provides us with an ironic insight to what might solve the question of identity.

Live and let live.

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