Festival Adventures – The Global Entity

Zoë Modiga at Luju Festival 2023

julia.sarantes.andersson — Fri, 09 Aug 2024 19:29:04 +0000

The Global Entity

Part 4 of 4: Interview with Zoë Modiga at Luju 2023

00:00 / 13:00

Did you know that in the middle of the Eswatini mountains there is a high couture fashion, exquisite food and music festival? Each year at the beginning of August, the Standard Bank Luju Food and Lifestyle Festival opens its gates for two days of cultural abundance. When I get to the festival area on Friday evening the sunlight is just about to disappear and I can feel the wind whisper promises of a cold, magical night.

Who is the magical performer Zoë Modiga?

As soon as Zoë Modiga enters Lujus main stage, the energy shifts in the audience. With her flowing gown and absolute presence she appears otherworldly, yes divine even. The audience holds its breath in reverence. With energy from above she greets us and the whole audience erupts in cheers. For this particular concert, Zoë could have given her chorus and band a night off since she was properly backed up by the singing audience.

It was a very special performance, one of the kind I never experienced before, where the audience’s attention was 100% on the artist and she in turn, held us all with her spirit. It created an energy of connection and co-creation that moves me to this day, one year later.

Zoë Modiga has loved singing since she was a child and pursued musical ambitions and higher education from an early age. She emerged nationally in 2016 when she participated in the talent show The Voice South Africa. In 2017 she debuted with her first album Yellow: the novel and has since then built an internationally renowned career. She is celebrated both as a singer and activist, and is often caught creating music that will move you with their depth.

It will not take long before scholars start mentioning the Modiga-sound when they teach music and expression, as she has the skill of making the music entirely her own. Her classical background makes itself known but she herself calls her style Afrofuturistic.

It was the first time I saw her live and I was completely floored. With all of her awards and acknowledgements, national as international, nobody can deny that this artist can sing. But what she did on stage was more than that. It almost gave me the feeling of being in church: where Zoë was the pastor and we, the crowd, her devoted, singing congregation. When we sit down together after the performance, she is radiating.

Interviewing Zoë Modiga

*The written interview may have some differences to the podcast as the text has been edited for readability.

First, that was an amazing performance! What an experience!

“It was so beautiful to be here in Eswatini. It’s not the first time I’m here and it does feel like a second home. It was so beautiful to come back and be a part of Luju festival for the first time, alongside an incredible line-up of beautiful musicians who have such beautiful messages to share. So to be able to be here and to be of one spirit with everyone was so incredible!”

Being one of South Africa’s present day youngest, most renowned, international artists known for creating an immortal cultural legacy, I must ask, what is it that drives you to create and impact the way you do?

“I think that just being able to know that I’m a part of something bigger. I’m not just an artist by myself but I take the baton from the greats like Thandiswa Mazwai, Hugh Masekela, Miriam Makeba, Salif Keita. There are so many incredible icons that I have been able to learn from and I’ve been able to take from that. I think it is a special thing that we are as a people. So I’m happy to have a little part of that, a little story in that, in the beauty that we are. That is what drives me.”

You are known for speaking up and creating around social issues, you don’t seem afraid to walk to the beat of your own drum. Is that something that has always been close to your heart?

“I think I really agree with the fact of artists being there to reflect the times. It is a saying I’ve heard so often and I think it is the case. We are here to reflect what is happening in society and to document that with our art forms and with our music. I know with my first album, it was a lot about self realization. Then the second album was really about celebrating black bodies and just human beings at large. There are so many things that make us separate but also that pull us together. Social issues, social victories are something that I like to share and be a part of.”

Today you have more awards than I can count on my hand, but it didn’t start out that way. What is the biggest difference for you, being where you are today as an artist, as a person, as a woman, and where you were when you started this journey?

“Oh my goodness, I think when I started the journey I was hopeful. I wanted to have something that is impactful to share. I wanted to evoke emotion through music, just merely because of the power that music has. Looking back, I am very surprised at where I am now. It is not without its challenges, it is not without its hardship but there is so much fulfilment that comes from being here! From meeting people like yourself, like minded people who I am able to just relate with, who I’m able to see – music is what brings us together. I’ve been able to really appreciate that journey and take one day at the time. Sometimes it makes absolutely no sense but I think, evenings like tonight, remind me of why I do what I do. That is beautiful, that is a gift I got from being here.”

You said you started out as hopeful, do you feel you have a different confidence today in the space that you take and the space that you create?

“Man I think that confidence is constantly being challenged but it’s also constantly growing at the same time. I can really be quiet humble to the experience of just being able to bring myself to the moment. To present myself in order to be used, cuz I do feel I’m a vessel of something that is bigger than myself. I just like to humble myself to the moment, take it one day at the time with everything that it comes with. It really is special, it’s very powerful.”

How is it being a woman in this male dominated space? Do you feel that affects you or how you are perceived?

“Oh man, I think being a woman is such an important part of my journey. There is this ability that we have to take in masculinity and to take in femininity and the way that we express ourselves. There is a nurturing spirit that comes with being a woman, a creating spirit. I do work with a lot of males in my work but I also do work with different communities: women, people that are part of the lgbtqai+ community. I love to really experience people but also step forward in my womanhood. There is something so charming, so warm, so seductive, so enchanting, so inspiring about being that. With all of the challenges that it comes with, I think it, it is who I am and I wear it like a badge.”

What is next for you?
“I have no idea what is next! I am open to the opportunity, I am open to the possibility. I just want to be a decent human being, first and foremost. I want to be able to play all the roles that I play outside of the music world. Whether that is being a friend, a sister, a daughter. You know, my sister and my mom are here tonight, so I’m wanting to love into those spaces. I think that then impacts the music and the way that people receive it. If you are a decent human being, there are some things that shine through. So that is what is next for me! I’m open for life to exceed my expectations. I don’t think I want to have expectations anymore, I’m open for those to be exceeded.”

To those who are just about to take that leap to follow their heart, what words of wisdom would you share?

“I would like to tell them to listen to that quiet voice. The voice that leads you into places that you fear. The voice that leads you into places that make you uncomfortable, because that is when life is able to open itself out to you. The thing about looking and listening to that voice is that it will always lead you to exactly where you need to be. That’s where authenticity comes from, that’s where honesty comes from. That’s where the doubts and the victories come from. It won’t always be comfortable but it will be beautiful.”

It won't always be comfortable but it will always be beautiful

Zoë Modiga

Reflections from one year later

I remember this interview like it was yesterday and yet I don’t. At the moment I was so starstruck, so in awe, that everything seems like a fog. I remember being so nervous about taking the space, the media tent was buzzing with activity and then suddenly she is in front of us in all her might. And yet so very human. When I started the interview the whole tent became still, the attention completely on her, almost like at the concert. Zoë Modiga has the capacity to steer the energy of a whole stadium and once my five minutes with her were over, I stumbled groggily away knowing that my life had changed.

At the time of the interview, almost exactly one year ago, I had no idea how her words were narrating what was to come for me, I just knew I was deeply moved. But turns out, just as Zoë said, you have to be right with yourself first, work from the inside out! And sometimes… most times actually, it is in the silence and stillness, through the uncomfortable and through the fear, that you reach just the place of where you are supposed to be.

Today I have just gotten back from yet another BEAUTIFUL Luju Festival. This time with a year of experience in my back, a team of my own and a proper winter jacket! But the journey from last year to present day has been far from a dance on roses. It’s been quiet. It’s been in the absolute in between of taking the jump and not know if, when or where I was going to land. That is why we start season 2 here, right where Zoë left me feeling more seen than ever. That is the message I want you to take with you today: living through the heart is certainly not always comfortable, but it definitely is worth it!

The dreamers and weavers of Luju festival

julia.sarantes.andersson — Thu, 01 Aug 2024 05:37:00 +0000

The Global Entity

Part 3 of 4: The Dreamers and Weavers of Luju Festival

00:00 / 17:30

The last day of Luju festival was very special. What made it so special were the conversations with the many women that I had the honor to meet. Knowledgeable and passionate women. Women that are inspired and unafraid. Women that are afraid and do it anyways. Women who pave the way for others. The interviews of today are precious. They are vulnerable conversations about dreams, the process of creating and the relationship to self.

Interview with Mrs. M

Neliswa, most popularly known as Mrs. M, is the creator of Decadent Pleasures, a dessert and pastry business. She calls herself an aspiring pastry chef but in fact creates the most beautiful cakes and baked goods that I have ever seen. This is not her first time participating at Luju festival, however, in the past solely in the role as a vendor. Her stall Decadent Pleasures is overflowing with delicious baked goods this year too but today, she has just done her very own master class on the Mastercard stage. When we sit down together she is absolutely beaming.

How did it go today? How are you feeling?
“First I was really nervous. I think because low-key I am a perfectionist. I wanted everything to be done to a T and I’ve been dreaming about this day for the past three-four weeks! The fact that it has happened is quite a relief but I really did enjoy myself. I got to express myself and engage with people.” I laugh as she says that she is a low-key perfectionist. The beautifully designed cupcakes in perfect alignment at her stall tells me it is more than low-key. She laughs as I tell her this and confesses “Yeah, I am all about aesthetic, detail and finesse. All needs to come together and make sense.”

Mrs. M is a self-taught chef with her own, popular brand Decadent Pleasures. Despite this, she often refers to herself as an aspiring pastry chef even though she has just taught a master class for a live audience at Luju festival. What is one of the biggest obstacles that you’ve had to overcome to get where you are?

“I struggle a lot with imposter syndrome. This week for example, I had a breakdown. I was just not okay. I remember texting a friend of mine at like 2 am and not being able to sleep. I am nervous, I have this overwhelming feeling of imposter syndrome. I don’t know where it comes from but from time to time I start not believing in myself. It does affect me but I think that the people that surround me are always encouraging me. They keep me going. I do think I am going to get over this feeling of not believing in myself, the feeling of not being good enough. For me, I think that has been my biggest hurdle. Sometimes I tuck myself in a corner where I tell myself I’m not gonna do that, I’m not going to put myself out there. There is always that overwhelming feeling that I struggle a lot with.”

What would you say to somebody who also wants to follow their heart but are yet to take that step?

“You have to jump! You won’t know whether you are going to fall, stumble, or whether you are going to fly but you just have to take that jump. I think that for me… I had to quit my daytime job and start pursuing the business on a full time basis. In that space I felt that this is my time to really look deep within my heart to what is in my heart. I don’t need to limit myself to just one thing. Explore, spread my wings, put myself out there. There are benefits, I can see the multiplying effect that it has, the opportunities that it is opening for me. I feel like things are starting to make sense now. Sometimes you are doing all of these things, you are making that content, you are just putting your heart out there. I had no idea that there is so much impact, that there are so many people that are actually watching what I am doing. So I end up inspiring myself! I think also that new business doesn’t necessarily bring in the coins immediately, you have to do it because you love it. You are funding your own dream and praying that it is going to take off. For me, this took me by surprise.” She gestures with her hand to indicate the festival. “I feel like I am being given my flowers. When I heard from the Luju curators I was like ‘Huh, are you sure? But I am not a pastry chef’ but they told me I was exactly the person that we are looking for.”

What is next for you?

“You know, I do think that at some point in my life I would like to go to culinary school or become a professional pastry chef. That is where I feel my niche is, at the sweet spot! But I am happy with what I’ve done so far. Being self-taught is all about exploring in the kitchen and trying to make sense of everything that surrounds it. I am looking forward to getting into the space of curating culinary experiences. I am also a recipe developer, so I want to translate that into a cookbook. I think there is that fear of being forgotten, fear of oblivion. I feel like in each and every space I am in I like to leave my mark and I like to give it my all. So I think I just keep pushing myself because I want to be remembered for having done something, for having an impact. I feel like I am looking forward to what the future holds and collaborations with brands that have contacted me. The future is looking bright! I’m just not sure I am ready for it hahaha.”

Well, I know for sure that I am definitely ready to see more women, more humans stepping into their lights! It is both inspiring and encouraging to me, doing what I do, having started this crazy journey of following my heart. The rest of the afternoon I spent amongst the beautiful fashion statements that everyone had turned themselves into. I do some more interviews during the day and I feel I am in flow. Sometimes, the world happens to you and you find yourself in the privileged position of being mirrored in every encounter you have. The words of others telling you the dwellings of your inner monologue. Today was such a day and I just want to share how grateful I am to have been able to mirror my existence in yours. It becomes evident that we are one. That we are different expressions of the same drive to realize ourselves. A person who has this effect is the body percussionist, singer and artist Lenna Bahule. I have had the great pleasure of seeing her perform live on several occasions in Mozambique and every time she stands on that stage everything feels possible. What will happen on stage, what will we hear, nobody knows, the opportunities are endless. But also within myself everything suddenly feels possible.

Interview with Lenna Bahule

The last of the daylight provides a colorful backdrop as Lenna makes her way onto the Mastercard stage. The instruments on stage I don’t recognize, their origin and names far beyond my knowledge. It is my first time that I see Lenna perform on her own. When she gets onto the stage, she takes a moment to just look at us in the audience, I can just see how she is taking this moment in. With a smile, holding the secrets of the music she is about to bless us with, she starts. When we later on in the evening get to sit down on the orange couch together, the heat from the sun is altogether gone.

How are you feeling?

“Right now, a bit overwhelmed. I mean, Luju is a very big festival. I feel there is a lot of expectations I had for my performance here so at this moment right now I am bursting in emotions and energy. But very grateful to be here and experience something so different. I’ve been around in the world but this is the most different experience I’ve had performing and also interacting. So I am very happy, and grateful.”

It is a composed and focused Lenna that greets me. Her energy is warm but her presence a bit distant. There had been issues with the sound not working during her performance, forcing her to improvise and adapt. For us in the audience it was still an out-of-the-world performance. I had people throughout the entire performance talking in my ear, wanting to praise her saying that they had never heard anyone like her. But right now, ten minutes after her performance, I can see how she is still on stage in her mind, running through it all. Since I don’t have a lot of experience doing this, I feel unsure of what the correct etiquette is here but I decide to ask her about it. Maybe we can connect.

You have such a stage presence when you are on stage and today you had some issues with the sound. Despite this, you are able to deliver a heartfelt performance and I must ask how? How are you able to continue performing, with your heart on your sleeve too, when everything changes?

“Well, that question is even going to help me heal the frustration. Because I was really frustrated now when we left. The thing is, I always get anxious when I have to perform alone, on an open stage. It is always a challenge. My solo performance is an experience, or generally, through all of my performances i try to bring this idea of an experience, a human experience. So I craft it up as much as I can in order to ensure that specific experience gets to the people. But also I’ve learnt to include the humanity of life, of things going up and down, into the performance. I think that one of my premises is that art is a human expression. So it’s about the art. Music can never stop, the experience can never stop, because it is about the art. It is frustrating. Like up there today I was really angry but I thought, the music is with you. It is not in the machine, it is not in the sound system, it is with you.”

How did you learn that?
“I’ve kind of studied that in a way. Through improvisation, through body music and body percussion, all of these practices have really helped me gain confidence to allow vulnerability and unpredictability to join me on stage. From my experience, it is how people connect more. I think that the odds of a performance, make people feel connected to the performer. Answering you this, is a way of pacing me down because I forget that. Especially when I have an attachment to an idea and have prepared.”

You said it on stage and you’ve repeated it again now, that music is with you and music never stops. As you are a body percussionist this is something I have witnessed myself when seeing you perform. Has rhythm always been within you?

“I think there is a before and after situation. A before I met body percussion and all of these body music crafts, and an after. Before I used to be more melodic and romantic kind of stuff. When I went to Brazil and started doing all of these rhythmic exercises, I really found a lot of love for the tiny bits, the little parts that go together, that go back and forth, that jump from one place to another, all of these beautiful cells. That became my pattern of composing, very rhythmically with small little pieces. Like telling a story and then having smaller pieces complimenting. So it is something that has popped up. When I was living in Brazil, I feel like I was just a small seed in a fertile ground of infinite possibilities. So, for me it was just blooming out. I didn’t even know it was here (points to body). But I think going to the body music thing opened up something that for me is so natural and intimate.”

Lenna’s music is something best described as transcendental. It goes from the earth into your soul, up into the ether only to come back and ground you again. It goes both in and and out. What is it that inspires and drives you to create the way you do?

“What inspires me is life, because I’m always inspired but what drives me… I think that is the key, especially with ADHD hahaha. The thing for me is that it is always there, sounds, ideas – it is always there. But for me to decide that this is the song, this is the format… that is why I actually don’t write so many songs… for me, making songs is easy but making songs that are meaningful to me…

I found that funny, what drives me… it is the feeling of small bits of freedom, when I find it. Because most of these songs, they came out in random situations like cooking, sweeping the floor, going to the bathroom. Like going to the bathroom to wash your hands and bam! there is a song. Completely out of the blue. If I sit down and say okay now I am going to make a song, it doesn’t come out. So I think what drives me is really that moment of self care, that moment of pleasure, that moment of aha-feeling, that moment of freedom, that moment of connection. I think that’s what drives me. The connection. That thing the makes the thing come out.”

How is it being a woman in a very male dominated industry?

“Yeah hey it is not easy. It is not easy, especially for me now. I am a mother and a single mother at that. I feel that becoming a single mother increased that feeling because I am the provider, I’m the planner, I’m the carer, I am everything. And I feel that has sort of suppressed my feminine because I’m always in charge. It has brought up a lot of strength, like I can still manage in a situation like what happened today because that is what I live of in my life, having to find solutions. It’s a familiar place for me, of always having to find a way to deal with stuff. Specifically because the whole stage is being managed by men, you know? And then you have the same system happening again so it’s tough. But it is everywhere so either deal with it or…”

What do you feel the music and culture industry needs to open up so that more women can take the space that you seem to do so effortlessly?

“More space for women to dive into their own crafts. Truly speaking, in the past three days “I’ve had a total of five hours to rehearse which for me is not ideal. And then with the few minutes I had, every time I was in the flow of a song I was like ‘You see?!’ This is what I need. I need the space and time to craft it up, to make it better and fluid and more spontaneous and more creative. Then I thought but why don’t I have that? Because I have too much to manage. I feel that society needs to understand that women need time to create. To have time to just put ideas out there, let it craft, let it build, let it deepen. Because we are too busy managing the demands of being a woman in a male dominated society. And the people with the resources to make that happen are mostly men… so it’s a tough math. But for me, that is the solution. Have more spaces where women can take some time off. Funding basically. Funding into women doing arts.”

Seeing how Luju’s artist manager is gesticulating that I am out of time, I hurry to ask Lenna one last question: What is next for you now?
“I want to sing for Africa! I really want to connect with more African people. I don’t think I have ever seen so many different African people together as here at Luju festival. I really want to go around Africa. My biggest dream is to have my songs be listened to in Africa and for my music to make sense to African people. And my album, I have finally found the creative energy for it. So if everything goes well, next year I am going to have my album.”

Lenna Bahule was my last interview and I am grateful for it! Honestly, I can’t see anybody topping the conversations I’ve had today. I feel inspired and warm. Inspired of the very spirit that these women have, the path they fearlessly are creating by walking it. Warm from the connection their genuine sharing of their story has created. I feel I have to pinch myself a little bit. To imagine, this is my life right now! Although I still feel the stress of having my travel plan completely crumble right before the festival started, meaning I don’t know what country I am going to be typing these blog posts from after Monday. The conversations with these amazing creators, these generous, inspiring, strong, vulnerable women, they have grounded me. I feel less alone in my lostness now. As I am learning, I can create value from almost anything. The value that this festival, that these women have shared with me during this weekend is going to keep me warm for the longest of times. Thank you Luju!

Fashion, food and resilience at Luju Festival

julia.sarantes.andersson — Wed, 31 Jul 2024 09:39:00 +0000

The Global Entity

Part 2 of 4: Fashion, food and resilience at Luju Festival

00:00 / 14:58

Fashion at Luju Festival

When I enter the Luju festival area on Saturday, it looks like a completely different festival. The sunlight has transformed everyone, yesterday’s winter jackets have been exchanged for the latest fashion of Southern Africa. Luju festival is built on three legs, food, fashion and music and today, fashion is definitely hitting me full force.Everyone, everywhere is dressed up like they are ready to walk up and down the runway at any time. I am amazed!

I walk past Tandlatami to buy a pair of NikNaks earrings. If you don’t know what NikNaks are, you have missed out. It is hands down the best cheese doodle snacks in the world and with these new, iconic earrings I felt fashionable enough to start day two at the Luju festival! The owner of Tandlatami, Tipunku Hlophe, tells me her brand means ‘my hands’. She is inspired by anything that comes across her everyday life and often combines recycled items with some beautiful beading. It makes for very fun and stylish pop cultural jewelry and accessories!

When I speak to the founder of Beads Emporium, Sonke, she tells me that although she started her business only a year ago, the skill of beading was passed on to her from her grandmother. When Sonke was still a kid she used to help her grandmother make traditional beaded headpieces, umcwasho, to sell. Today she makes modern, high couture bags out of pearls, a very telling example of how fashion and creativity can honor, re-imagine and still tell the story of heritage and identity.

The fashion café, the fashion marketplace at Luju festival, is filled with creatives and designers, all with a story of how they found their calling. Dineo Malinga from D-Tempt Creation makes her own leather bags and accessories. She tells me that she became aware of how leather was made when she was home one day for a ceremony. A cow was slaughtered and a few days later her father brought home the leather from the cow. He had sent it away to be prepared and brought it back to her.

When she was four-five years old she had seen her grandfather make a purse for her sister from a cow’s ear. She had seen him working with leather before but tells me that as a kid she did not understand that this was her calling. It wasn’t until her father bought her that leather and later passed away that she felt this was where she was supposed to be. When she started in 2013 she had to teach herself everything from the beginning, but in 2018 she was ready to leave her corporate job and follow her dream. Today she is working together with her daughter and passing on the craftsmanship to her. I smile as I walk on. Everyone is so passionate about what they do, eager to tell their story, sharing of their creativity.

I walk a little bit further and am suddenly surrounded by portuguese. The festival has turned the amphitheater into a ‘taste of Mozambique’ and just outside, AZGO has set up stalls showcasing Mozambican artists and designers. “I know you!” somebody exclaims. I turn around and see Iracema Mabota, the founder and creator of Ririi Crochet. We had met earlier when I was in Tofo Mozambique.

I wonder how common crocheting is in Mozambique, turns out it was her mother that taught her initially. It makes me think of my own grandmother who once upon a time taught me how to crochet and knit.

If she was still with us today she would have loved one of Irma’s adorable crochet handbags, she always had an eye for good craftsmanship. It is beautiful how Luju seems to be such a fertile soil for new ideas to emerge and still hold space for what has been.

Heritage is especially a theme that comes to light when Chef Mokgadi is on stage. She is an activist chef who spreads indigenous knowledge of food and farming when she cooks and speaks. She was invited to Luju this year to hold a master class in cooking with indigenous food, her specialty. Throughout the class, she was feeding the audience with not only her knowledge but her enthusiasm as well. When we sit down together afterwards, the very energy and life that emanated from her on stage is still radiating through her. After talking for a while I notice, this energy is Chef Mokgadis constant base line.

Interview with Chef Mokgadi Itsweng

It is Saturday afternoon and I am waiting nervously in the media tent. The sun is shining but not even half as bright as the smile of our next guest: Chef Mokgadi. We haven’t even sat down on the orange interview couch before the conversation is flowing. I have to ask her to hold her thoughts so that I can press play on the recorder. With a patient and warm smile she lets me get my things in order.

Chef Mokgadi started out as a food writer and editor before she released her first book Veggielicious in 2021. She comes from a family of cooks and farmers so ending up here was perhaps not surprising to her family. Not only is she inspiring people to eat more vegetarian food in the Country Of Meat (South Africa). But the way she does it; cooks, teaches and educates, is entirely her own. Chef Mokgadi is a food activist with a passion for uplifting women, life and food that is good for the soul!

What is the biggest difference between you today and who you were when you started out?

“People who know me, who have seen my work and where I come from, would say that the biggest difference now is my confidence. I’m not apologetic about what I do, I’m not explaining myself, I just do. Everything I do comes from an authentic self, it comes from a pure love of self and the love of black people, a love of humanity, a love of mother nature. So it all comes from love and the difference in me, then and now, is the confidence that this love has brought. Because I no longer apologize, I no longer explain, I just am. If you like it, take it or leave it. I have my message and I’m going to say it. I think that over the years I have grown, which is why I am so intentional around women. Because I, too, have had to fight some monsters along the way. And one monster was self confidence, not standing up for myself, being afraid to say no because you know ‘good girls don’t say no, good girls are people pleasers’… Now I’m like, No.”

"I stand on the broad shoulders of women." Chef Mokgadi

In what way are you intentional around women?
“My food and everything that holds my food is my granny’s food, my moms food, both my grandmothers. One of my grandmothers was an indigenous farmer and the other one was a chef. Both of them have influenced my food and the way I talk about food, how I cook, what I cook. It’s incredible that at this stage of my career, all I am meeting is women. My team is only women! My manager; my kitchen team when we take Gogo’s plate on the road; the farmers that I work with are women farmers; food producers are women producers; people I source from are mostly just women. For me, the voices of the women are what are going to heal us. We need to take care of the female energy on earth. Mother earth needs us. It is not papa earth or whatever. It is mother earth, the nurturer. We need to bring that back.”

She goes on to tell me how important it is to open up doors for other women. Through her current collaboration with Mugg & Bean she has been able to create opportunities for small, female farmers to sell their produce to one of South Africa’s biggest restaurant brands. A space that otherwise wouldn’t be easily opened to them.

Do you feel that you meet backlash in this industry?
“Yeah but I don’t care! Hahahah! I do what I feel is right but most importantly, I’m a food activist, my message needs to be heard and needs to come through from women.” Chef Mokgadi leans in a little, looks at me seriously and says.

“The food and restaurant business is very white in South Africa and also very male. So for me, this is intentional. My door was opened by a woman. My mentor, Dorah Sitole, literally kicked these doors open for me so that I can then open and hold the doors for others. I’m not gatekeeping any door – we have opened the doors now, can we all come in, you know? So that is where I am. I stand on the broad shoulders of women. That is who has inspired me, that is who has brought me here. And that’s who I work with!

What does it mean to you being a food activist?
“Waking up my community around their love for mother earth. Because what has happened is that humanity has separated from mother earth. We don’t grow our own food, everything comes in a plastic bag. We are so unconscious about where our food comes from and what we eat. So my message is always around consciousness, waking us up, we need mother nature and need to care for her. We might not see it because we are so boxed into our city life, being modern.

We are not grounded in reality, and for us to be able to help mother nature and help climate change, we need to be grounded in reality. Reality is that we can’t grow food properly, we don’t know how. We are not taking care of our rivers so how are we gonna be alive if our water sources are crying? The rivers, the oceans, they are all crying. And we don’t even see it! To us, the sea is here for us and we don’t understand that it doesn’t need us. Mother nature doesn’t need us, we need her. But a lot of us are still sleeping, we don’t realise we are not grounded.”

Today during your master class you talked about indigenous grains as a form of resistance to the industrial agricultural system, what does this mean?

“The industrial agriculture system is so toxic. I, like everyone in South Africa, grew up eating corn. I thought that was our staple. I didn’t understand that there was something before corn. Only through my grandmother, who was an indigenous farmer, did I learn. She used to grow sorghum amongst other indigenous grains. I got the green fingers from her but I also got the indigenous knowledge systems from her. Because of that, I understood that you can grow food that is delicious and healthy.

We all grew up eating corn but now the corn is GMO. The pesticide that they need to keep the GMO growing is hurting me. I can’t eat corn anymore, I get hives all over. My body is like NO. A lot of people will normalize being bloated and walk around with it thinking they are fine. But with hives, you can’t ignore them. The hives tell us to wake up! That was what happened to me all the way! I used to get bloated, runny tummies, etc. I should have said what’s wrong, let me investigate. But instead I covered it up and continued with my life. Only when I got hives on my face did I react.”

What do you feel is needed in this industry to actually make the change that you advocate?

“We need chefs that advocate. Chefs are the link between the people and the farmers. It is only when the chefs create those conversations that the change at home happens. You remember with quinoa, we all started eating quinoa because the chefs were telling us, it became a big thing – quinoa this and quinoa that! The chefs are the ones who carried the quinoa message to us, the home cooks, the moms, the health yogis and all that. That’s how I think the movement, the change, happens. Chefs need to be educated so that they can advocate for good food and for mother earth. Oh she is making risotto with sorghum, why? Only then, people will start making risotto with sorghum. People will understand that sorghum is better than rice because rice is not sustainable, it requires lots of water. Sorghum is healthier and our body knows it, our soul knows it.”

When we were finished with the interview and just chitchatting, Chef Mokgadi said something that really resonated with me. We were talking about following your path no matter other peoples opinions and reactions.
“Over the years I have learnt to really appreciate and understand who I am and love myself wholeheartedly and not care!” She laughs with her whole body.

“And also, I share it with others. And I find that it actually helps others to also break free from their own little box, their own little mould. Just be yourself, and the rest will fall into place. We have to be free and grounded. Grounded in authenticity, grounded in mother earth, so that you are able to make a change and be inspirational in your community.”

Her words put themselves like a warm blanket around me. So much wisdom had been shared in these short minutes on the orange couch. So much wisdom, warmth and laughter. Just like the women at the fashion café that I had spoken to earlier, Chef Mokgadi also uses her ancestral knowledge to create something new and completely enchanting. I feel inspired! What if this is what my life is supposed to be like now? I feel a thrill running through my entire body. I say thank you and bye to Chef Mokgadi with a little sting in my heart, I could have continued talking to her for hours! I make a note to myself to ensure I try her food the next time I am at Mugg & Bean.

First day of Luju Festival in Eswatini 2023

julia.sarantes.andersson — Tue, 30 Jul 2024 13:30:19 +0000

The Global Entity

Part 1 of 4: First day of Luju Festival in Eswatini 2023

00:00 / 16:57

A few weeks ago, I received the incredible news that I had been accepted as media at a fashion and music festival called Standard Bank Luju Festival in Eswatini! It is the blogs first accreditation and the start of something new and amazing. I envision; experience based festival stories, close ups of the artists and gems we find, logistics around the festival, tips and tricks of how to have the best camping experience and so much more. All of this to build a comprehensive festival map for us festival lovers! Tag along and see how it goes, I am beyond excited to take you guys with on this experience of uncovering the essence of yet another, likely very beautiful, festival in southern Africa.

Beginner tips on solo traveling and crossing borders from Mozambique

Despite my historically dramatic experience of crossing the Mozambican land border on my own , I had decided to take the local bus, called Xiapa/Kombi, to Eswatini. I arrived at Legends Backpackers, in Ezulwini Valley, after a journey of sixteen hours! The first eight hours were simply waiting at the bus stop for the bus to fill up. I had been told to be at the bus station in Baixa, downtown Maputo, at eight in the morning. At two o’clock the Xiapa was only half full and we still didn’t know when we would be departing. At that point I definitely started feeling stressed about the situation. I did not want to get stuck at the border at night, again…

I approach the driver for the fifth time. He looked at me with tired eyes and explained that nobody can honestly say what time a Xiapa will depart since they can’t know when the bus will be full enough to leave. And since the bus is dependent on its passengers to leave, they will tell you the time they think will make you happy so that you choose to travel with them.

I sigh with irritation. I get the dilemma, I do. But it is so inefficient and dishonest it makes me crawl with irritation. It wasn’t what I was told yesterday when I came to arrange my trip. My phone battery is already running low but there is no point in leaving the bus to charge it now, the bus could leave at any point. At any point meaning anywhere between the next five minutes to the next two hours. I sigh again. I think about my friend Inga who always used to smile at my impatience and say “In Mozambique we wait! It’s a daily activity here.”

With a much grumpier demeanour than her, I cross my arms and sit down in the bus for another two hours of nothing. When we get to the border, it is dark. As we park the bus I look to the driver, it is the same driver who left me here the last time we were here. I try to catch his eye now but he stubbornly avoids all contact. Maybe he remembers all the trouble from last time and wants to avoid any involvement. Or maybe he feels guilty about leaving me here with the all male police officers in the middle of the night. I know I would.

I don’t know what it is about my passport that makes all the officers huff and gruff when they receive it. After some back and forth I do get my passport back and am allowed to continue traveling. I am not used to this, having to argue with authority about what is right and wrong. It makes me nervous and uncomfortable as hell. I guess I should see it as free therapy for my people pleasing tendencies…

“Back so soon?” The Eswatini border police says with a smile as he stamps my passport. So smooth. No overly inflated egos or inappropriate questions. I smile in return and explain I am here for Luju Festival. The officer in turn wishes me the best of times and that was that. This is how it should be.

Pre Luju jitters

When I wake up Friday morning the festival excitement is quickly replaced by chaos. The guy who was supposed to be my videographer this festival has canceled. This was supposed to be my first festival with a team, a huge investment and step forward for the blog. Furthermore, he was also bringing all of my outfits for the festival as well as my winter jacket, a MUST-HAVE in Eswatini early August (the end of winter season). Not to talk about the emotional rollercoaster of getting ditched the day of your first big gig. What a shit show. Sort of like that reoccurring nightmare of showing up to a performance and only realizing on stage that you are naked. Or coming unprepared to a pitch.

I go into crisis fixing mode and rush to The Gables, a mall close by, to see what can be done about the wardrobe. It only hits me mid chaos induced shopping spree that I realize: I am about to participate in a fashion festival?! A festival that specifically has as purpose to enable and give space to local brands and crafts! I immediately put down whatever I’m holding and leave the mall. On my way back to the backpackers I start to laugh, stress can really be blinding!

I was in Eswatini about to experience a high-end food and fashion festival! Today was the day of dreams and adventure! What else really mattered? Sure, nothing was going as planned, but when has it ever really? I could feel the worry and stress from this morning washing off me and when the Media lady later on put the press band around my wrist, I vowed to always remember this moment. The moment of dream weaving and creation!!

As soon as I go through the main entrance of Luju Festival I am met by Simon, Luju’s Communications Officer. The festival is already in full swing as we pass through the different areas. Simon explains that Luju used to be a one day festival but has now merged into a two day festival due to popular demand. He makes a point of saying that even though the festival is growing bigger and bigger each year, it is not about getting the biggest names on stage. Rather it is about creating a stage for the artists and creatives that both align with and expand the values of the Luju food and lifestyle festival.

Simon takes me to a top-up station so that I can fill my festival band, as Luju is a cashless festival. When I am done I can’t help but feel a bit lost. My performance anxiety kicks in full force as Simon introduces me to the media people at the media tent. I feel like an imposter next to these professional radio and newspaper people. Everyone is in a team. “…don’t forget to have fun!” Simon squeezed my shoulder lightly, perhaps seeing how my face was turning paler and paler by the minute, before rushing off into the Luju night. I take a deep breath, show time!

First night of Luju Festival 2023

I have a few hours before my first interview and I start by scoping out a place to eat. I have heard endlessly about how one of the three main pillars of Luju Festival is the food (the other two being fashion and music). I am more than excited when I walk around and smell the different aromas from the diverse cuisines. The Lounge has seated areas around fires and I end up enjoying some fresh spring rolls.

The taste of coriander, chilli, ginger and soy hits me full force and I smile. I can feel the heat from the fire warming my back and in front of me the Luju festival is coming to life as more and more people start dancing to Iamsiwas beats. As I start walking towards the main stage, the next act goes on. Before I know it, the cold night air is filled with the powerful voices of Emahlokohloko choir. The choir from Eswatini makes for a powerful start of the live music acts as its songs of worship and devotion, joy and gratitude invite people to dance and sing along. Praise is praise, and I could feel the energy of the music in my soul even though I didn’t understand one word.

Somewhere, half way through the performance, I sway away through the happy crowds towards the Fashion Café. Since my own planned wardrobe got stuck in South Africa, I was now eager to use this excuse to shop at Luju’s infamous fashion market. Every vendor and creator I spoke to either talked about their heritage, co-living with nature, or their spirituality in some sense. My first artist to interview at Luju Festival, singer Dato Seiko from Botswana, seemed to personify these attributes in every sense – from her lyrics to her humble, esoteric presence.

Interview with Dato Seiko

At eight o’clock on the first evening of Luju Festival 2023, the Botswanan singer Dato Seiko, takes the stage. Her small stature in spite, her presence feels larger than the open-air stage she stands on. She has the audience spellbound from the first note sung. Her music can be described as singer songwriter gone RnB style, combined with vulnerable, heartfelt lyrics. The chilly Eswatini air only made itself known after Dato Seiko let the last note die out. When I later ask her if she has always felt comfortable on stage, she giggles a little and shrugs.

“I think the stage has always loved me. It chose me, I don’t know how I even got here but music has always found a way to me. Even when I tried to ignore it, it kept calling me. I mean, you have to rehearse quite a lot for you to be comfortable on stage but the nerves never go away… I am still nervous every time!”

What is it that inspires you to go through that uncomfortable stage of nerves and do what you do?
“I alway say that we provide a healing service, we are service providers. People always need some type of healing, our music is affordable therapy! I think, seeing people resonate with the music that we write and the music that we make, or having somebody say that you told our story through your song and you don’t even know them! It shows how powerful music is as a tool to actually heal people.” It is not hard to feel she is right. Dato Seikos songs vibrate right into where it feels the most. Where you need it the most.

How is it being a woman navigating a male dominated business?

“I like to believe that when Grace is upon you, nothing can stop you. So even if it’s a male dominated industry, if you step in – your authority will be felt”.

Dato Seiko is not only known for her performances and music. She has over three hundred thousand followers on social media, to whom she generously shares her best singing coach tips. I ask her,
do you have any words of wisdom to somebody who is just starting out?

“Do what you have to do and believe in what you are doing. You are the best salesman for yourself so believe in what you do, thoroughly, and do it! I think there is always someone out there that resonates with you so don’t think too much about it, just do it and see it come to fruition.”

I look into her kind eyes as I thank her for her time, unable to express the peace her words had blessed me with. As I walk out into the cool Eswatini night, I can feel how the interview has grounded me. Is this what my life is like now? *mind blown*

Luju's line-up Friday night 2023

The rest of the evening is packed, Luju’s line-up is on fire! Straight after the interview I head towards the Taste of Mozambique area where the Hood Brodz have the whole Amphitheater boiling. It is almost impossible to get down to the dance floor but I was up for the challenge, properly motivated by the DJs. I get down to the dance floor and within five minutes I am sweating, something I did not think was possible in the Eswatini winter night.

After a good thirty minutes of dancing I start heading back to the media tent to prepare for the next interview. Halfway there I stop mid step, I can’t believe my ears. But clear as day, it’s country music! I don’t know about you, but Eswatini is the last place I’d expect to hear country music at. I walk towards the Mastercard stage and see, what I now know is the Eswatini Country duo Dusty & Stones, making the whole crowd dance. I stay as long as I can and watch young and old having fun together to the happy music.

Seeing the genius Zoë Modiga perform was a highlight out of this world! Having the honour to interview her is something I am still processing and will write extensively about soon. When I get back to the main stage, DJ Teedo Love has everyone dancing their feet off. It feels like the whole field is swaying in unison as she mixes modern hits with timeless classics.

After this I was honestly ready to get going home, my night felt complete. But I had promised a friend to not miss Big Zulu’s performance as she couldn’t be here herself. I wasn’t disappointed. His performance set the audience on fire to the extent it was sometimes hard to hear him over the chanting crowd. When I got back to the hostel it was three am and I could still hear the crowds in my ears.

Getting from Luju festival without a car

There hadn’t been any shuttles nor taxis available when the festivals last concert had ended, only endless cues of cars. Eventually, two girls waiting for their mother to pick them up took pity on me and offered me a ride. Without a proper jacket, I gratefully accepted their offer while messaging a picture of the car’s registration number to a friend. Just in case. I have been advised to always have my own car when traveling these regions simply because it is easier. Even public transport doesn’t run on a time schedule. But I believe it is important to be able to access events with public transport and taxis. For economic accessibility and such. Especially in countries where the larger portion of the population lives in poverty, accessible transportation options directly correlates to who can come and enjoy the events.

30 days in Eswatini: Reflections from a detour

julia.sarantes.andersson — Wed, 20 Mar 2024 18:04:22 +0000

The Global Entity

30 Days In Eswatini: Reflections From A Detour

00:00 / 10:23

MTN Bushfire: A catalyst for change in festival tourism

Going to MTN Bushfire Festival in Eswatini last year was one of the most amazing experiences to this day. It catapulted my life in a completely different direction and today I am going to share with you why. Firstly, despite my best effort to get a group together for the Bushfire festival, I ended up going alone. To simply go to a festival in a country you’ve never been in before, on a continent far from your own, felt like an achievement in itself.

What really made the difference was how beautifully the festival was organised. I felt so safe. There was such abundance for every sense to enjoy. It completely blew all my fears and prejudices away. Somewhere in between all the dancing, conversations with strangers, random poetry slam sessions and midnight adventures, I could feel how my brain started to tick. It was almost like I could feel somebody turning up the dimmer on the light bulb above my head.

As I walked through the tents, the sun was rising in the pink morning above Bushfire, other memories started filling my mind from similar scenarios. Similarly rosy mornings, tents with thousands and thousands of people from different corners of the world, the beat that never ends, and the endless connections. Only, these memories weren’t from here, no, they were memories from my early adulthood. Me and my friends used to travel Europe in search for the best festivals, it was what our whole year surmounted to. The Festivals! We would always come home feeling inspired and wiser, enamored with life and what lay ahead. How come I did not see the same traffic of travelers and tourists for festivals here in Africa? The literal definition of creative abundance.

Visa issues and redirection

The day after Bushfire Festival ended, I was in my friend’s car going from Eswatini to Pietermaritzburg, South Africa. It was a seven hour drive and I sat the entire ride thinking and processing what I had just experienced. Before coming on this journey I did a bachelor in Global Studies, which is basically learning to analyse why the world is crap, but my career is based in sales. As I sat looking out at the Eswatinian mountains passing by me, the different factors were spinning around in my head: international tourism, lack of information, fear and misconceptions, cultural appropriation, exploitative tourism, the longing to belong, Ubuntu and the knowing that we are all connected.

All of the thoughts surrounded the core question that has been circulating at the top of my mind ever since I started solo traveling in 2015: How can we travel in a just and kind way? Meaning, in a way that strengthens the locals in whatever way they define as valuable and that enables exploitation free structures for interaction between locals and tourists.

The concept that kept coming up, and that has followed me around ever since, was Social Sustainable Tourism. Despite having studied sustainability for almost three years straight, social sustainability always seemed to be the less conceptualized one. The definitions are many but the implementation of Social Sustainability in businesses and structures seems lacking. I started to see how festivals, with their international reach and huge local impact, both in terms of jobs, pr and representation for local artists and crew, could be a huge trendsetter for sustainability within two industries: the culture and arts industry as well as the tourism industry.

When we arrived at the border, I was denied visa into South Africa, saying I had to go back to my country of residency before entering again. I had counted on being able to spend the next three months in South Africa, surfing on the couches of my friends but this definitely threw out those plans. This also made me pause any and all thoughts of Social Sustainable Tourism and Festivals for a while.

You can read about my full MTN Bushfire experience here, here and here!

My safe haven: an unexpected turn to Eswatini

My failed attempt to enter South Africa led me right back to Eswatini, where they gave me another 30 days without hesitation. Thank goodness. Traveling solo without a concrete plan is a full time job in and of itself so I decided to book myself into the same hostel that I had stayed at during Bushfire: Legends Backpacker in Ezulwini. I hadn’t planned on spending time in Eswatini so having a base that was familiar felt good. I was meant to spend the three months in South Africa writing a second bachelor thesis in International Relations, but I was feeling utterly uninspired right now.

Contrary to common assumption, considering my lifestyle choices, I don’t do well with changes and uncertainty. Having my three months-in-South Africa plans disrupted deeply unsettled me and I could not for the life of me focus on writing a thesis. Instead I spent my 30 days in Eswatini in Tanya’s car as she drove us around mountain up and mountain down. I met Tanya in Mozambique as she was traveling but she actually works in Ezulwini with Swazi Trails. Eswatini is breathtaking. There is no other word for it. It is completely enveloped in mountains and everything is intensely green. Nature is so predominant, you hardly notice the buildings.

A month in Ezulwini, Eswatini

Tanya and I drive around for hours talking about life and what we want. We listen to music at full volume and laugh as people stare. She is certainly a sight to see, Tanya, as she sits behind the wheel of the huge jeep. She is the shortest lady I know and barely looks old enough to hold a driving license. Furthermore, she is a Swazi woman driving a jeep, not a common sight here. Let me just say jaws dropped and heads were turned when she pulled through!

Sitting there, letting the landscape pass us by, it started to feel pretty okay to be uncertain about the future. Gosh, I was even uncertain about the present! As Tanya took me to yet another beautiful sunset, at yet another beautiful Swazi peak, I started to accept that maybe I wasn’t supposed to be in South Africa right now. Maybe I wasn’t even supposed to be writing a thesis right now? The thought of letting the thesis go and sitting with complete uncertainty about what I should be doing with my time felt both crazy and just right. So naturally, that is what I did.

One afternoon as Tanya and I are out doing errands, she turns onto a very beaten up road. It takes us into a township. The dust from the road colours every house and tree in the area into a monochrome scale of brown. It makes the kids kicking a deflated football around look like bright Christmas lights in their colourful t-shirts. They all stop and stare as Tanya pulls up and parks. “This is where I grew up.” She explains and jumps out of the car. As soon as she is outside everybody comes to greet her, they want to know who her strange friend is. She takes me around, sharing different anecdotes about what her life used to be like here. We quickly get invited into her family home and soon I find myself in a couch with lots of people coming in and out wanting to say hello. I get something to drink and after a while everyone settles down.

Suddenly the father of the house turns to me and stares into my eyes. “What is your name?” I repeat to him that my name is Julia but he shakes his head vigorously and asks again “What is your name?” Tanya looks at my confused expression and intervenes “He means your Swazi name Julia. What is your Swazi name?” I explain that I don’t have one and he turns around and starts arguing with Tanya in siSwati. How can it be that your friend has been in Swazi this whole time without a name?! Tanya just laughs. Without further ado, he takes a swig of the beer, stands up and declares “You! You are Temave! Temave… Makhanya!” The family erupts cheers and laughuter. When the commotion subdues, Tanya leans over and starts explaining. “In siSwati, words can have multiple meanings depending on the context but Temave,” Tanya says. “Means the worldly person, or one that has traveled a lot. Makhanya, means the one who lights up or the light bringer.” I smile. What a gift! The traveling light bringer, I send out a prayer for there to be something prophetic about that.

When we drive home that evening, my heart is full. A whole month has passed in Eswatini, and as peaceful and uneventful as this place has been, time has gone by in the blink of an eye. I think I needed this month to let myself adjust. Letting go of South Africa and my plan to write a thesis felt scary but right. I was curious about what would take its place instead. When we got home it was time for me to start packing, Mozambique was waiting for me!

MTN Bushfire 2023, day three

julia.sarantes.andersson — Mon, 18 Mar 2024 10:21:11 +0000

The Global Entity

Part 3 of 3: MTN Bushfire 2023, Day Three

00:00 / 13:02

The grand finale of Bushfire festival

On Sunday morning I wake up FRESH and with an intense urge to dance! I get ready and catch a kombi (public transport in Eswatini) right outside the Gables, the huge mall close by. There’s supposed to be specific shuttles going back and forth to the festival area but I have no clue where or when they go. After a lot of looks from the local kombi users at my glittering face, and many stops and pauses, we arrive! We are ready for Bushfire day three.

In honor of it being the last day of the festival, the sun is paying us an unexpected but warmly welcomed visit. Everyone is dressed in their best festival outfits and the energy is running high. It’s not even eleven!? As I get to the Main Stage, Uncle Karly is blasting Beyonce’s Love on Top, full volume. I haven’t heard it in years and yet I know every word. It was the song that came to me as a divine affirmation when I took my first steps of self acceptance.

That was seven years ago, the rain was drizzling down over a grey and cold me, in a grey and cold Stockholm. I was dancing on the rooftop of my nine to five office job, singing and feeling every word of the love song as my grey and cold call center colleagues stared at me. In ancient Chinese medicine they say we live in cycles of seven years. Today, the song hits differently. I realise I relate to the song differently now because I am different. Its words aren’t the lifeboat it once was, now it’s part of my common decency. Towards myself. It feels symbolic to receive this song today. As I dance and sing, I am yet again reminded of the cathartic power of music.

Dancing, the medicine of my soul

In the afternoon I run into some friends from Eswatini who invite me over to have a drink at their campsite. After not just one, but two, distraction manoeuvres that should only be compared by the skills of Agent 007, I am successfully welcomed into the campsite. It offers a welcome respite for my feet to sit down for a while after days of intense dancing.

The parties are already going strong at the campsite. Apparently, there are people that come every year only to camp. They never enter the festival area! As the sun sets we start heading back towards the festival area but the view is so magnificent we have to pause. I walk away from my friends, I need a moment. I put my camera down and start to dance.

I move in a way I haven’t moved in years. The joy comes so suddenly that I miss a beat. I am dancing again! The rhythm is within me, the moment entirely my own. And my body is in movement! It’s not like I haven’t danced previously. I have. But not like this. Ever since I stopped dancing contemporary dance, over ten years ago, it has felt like dancing and the very essence of movement has left my body. It sounds dramatic, I know, but that is the best way I can describe it.

The pandemic didn’t make things easier, rather it left me with an inflammation and heaviness that further limited my ability and joy for movement. It brings tears of joy to my eyes to now feel the movement so forcefully present in my body again. When I return to my friends, I am ecstatic! “Who did you kiss?” a friend asks teasingly and giggles. We get back to the festival area just as darkness arrives, the tones of Ibeyi‘s magical songs luring me back onto the dance floor.

Navigating public spaces, night time and men

Eventually, the last DJ plays its last tones. It feels way too soon but I am dying of thirst and the only place where there is water is at the campsite. I say goodbye to Bolodoamor who has to go back to work and grab onto a 19 year old Brazilian who happened to stand next to me. He looks terrified when I ask him to get me into the campsite but is way too polite to question it. He needn’t have worried, everything went smoothly. I go straight to the camps ‘common area’ with the many fires.

I’m still sweaty but Eswatini nights are cold and I am bound to need the heat while I wait for my friends. We were supposed to reunite after the last concert but with my phone off and most of my friends running on African time, I realise it probably won’t happen. I’m torn between what I should do. Go home and sleep or stay an dance? I know there are plenty of taxis outside the festival area right now, but will there be any available later? Maybe, maybe not. On the other hand, public transport starts at dawn and I want to dance till then anyways.

I feel like my safety conundrum from yesterday makes itself known again. That as a solo traveling female, I navigate and create security, in relation to and at the mercy of the people around me. Au contrary to yesterday, tonight, I’m completely alone. Is it safe for me to stay? I hear my mothers stern warnings about festivals, traveling and being a woman. But then I also hear her encouraging words about standing your ground and taking up space. The words from my last thesis ring in my ears: the fear women have of men, inhibits them from moving freely in public spaces; less women in public spaces, make public spaces less safe for women. The safety conundrum of being female. Goddammit. I’m going to dance!

It’s around two AM and the campsite is packed! Happy people are everywhere, dancing, singing and talking. I make friends with a group that invites me to an after party. The guy who invited me wants to buy me a drink but all of the places have closed. I remember I’m actually still carrying a little bottle of alcohol from the night before and offer to share it.

When we arrive at the camp site party, we are welcomed like royalty. Mozambicans can host like nobody’s business! The music is loud and amazing. In a moment of weakness I succumb to the expectations of my surroundings and feel stuck to the guy that I came with. It is very evident that everyone expects me to be “somebody’s”. Tiresome gendered expectations… but I won’t let that chain me! The guy doesn’t seem to want to speak to me anyways so after trying to pull a whole conversation for five minutes I decide to mingle.

Everyone is super friendly and in a party mood. I only have time to speak to two people before the host calls me back to the guy I came with. When I get there I realize that he is trying to wingman the guy. Wingman him to me. Sigh. When the host leaves, the guy starts speaking to another man. And then another. Am I just expected to stand here? Am I rude if I walk away? How angry will he get when I reject him? But he has made no move on me, so how can I even reject him?

The situation is absurd. I’m not afraid of the guy, nor do I feel unsafe in my setting, but my thought process shows how extremely aware my whole being is of the risks that come with rejecting a guy. I pretend to see somebody I know at the party and excuse myself.

A new dawn: There is hope for masculinity yet

I fall right into the arms of a Mozambican poet who starts reciting love poems in my ear. As more of the creatives of Mozambique join us we start singing. I’m improvising and harmonising freely, text, melody and all. It is far from perfect but I can feel something has shifted within during this festival. It’s like I can access my creativity again! Gosh I love Mozambicans!

The guy who brought me to the party approaches us and interrupts us mid song. “Do you have more alcohol?” I look at him dumbfounded. Is he serious? After ignoring me all night and yet somehow making it clear that he is bothered when I’m socializing with others, now he wants alcohol? The premise of the whole situation is stupid. I feel indignant by his request and blankly refuse. I continue with my night and my new found creative powers.

When it’s an hour before dawn the guy I came with asks if we can talk. He wants to know what happened. Between us. Why did it get weird? The question shocks me. Not in any of my years on this earth has a man, out of his own free will, taken the emotional responsibility to initiate a conversation about what went wrong. Mind you, this is the guy I met three hours ago. My first instinct is to minimize my experience and brush it under the rug. It is a coping mechanism for safety I think, always looking at how to de-escalate topics that can hurt a man’s ego.

I don’t know what made me do it, but I answer him frankly. I don’t downplay nothing. I describe his behaviour and how I perceived it, as straight forward as I can. My words leave him in silence. I let him process what I’ve said, getting ready for his defense. Instead he surprises me and says “Jeesh, yeah. I can see that. I can see that now.”

From there, we dive deep into topics of gender norms, expectations, communication and toxic masculinity specifically. He does all the heavy lifting in the conversation and I am surprised by this man’s actual effort at four AM, post crazy festival, to understand himself and what happened. At the end of the talk he apologizes again for his behaviour, thanks me heartily for the conversation and bids me goodnight.

Imagine that! The conversation lingers with me as I start making my way through the tents towards the empty festival area. As I reach the site with all the fires, dawn surrounds me. It is my favorite time of day and yet I haven’t been awake to greet her in so long.

I see three men sitting on a bench, each huddled under a thin blanket. How much warmer wouldn’t they be if they just scooted together, sat on one blanket and used the other two on top of them? The conversation with the guy earlier left me the impression that he was starved for such meaningful and emotionally present conversations. Thinking about my own life, I have an abundance of them. It is at the core of my very existence. Just like the women in my life that constantly show up for me and those beautiful yet hard conversations. It must be lonely to be born a man. To not be granted the richness of non-sexual intimacy and the language of emotions. How funny it is to live the human experience.

Just a few hours ago I was painfully aware of my genders vulnerabilities. Now, I couldn’t imagine wanting to be anything else. Think what you will about The Guy, to me he will be remembered as the guy who took the emotional responsibility and held space for a hard conversation. This should probably be basic, bottom line. But he surprised me. Somewhere, some camp is playing Sjava’s Umcebo. The sky is a fierce color of pink and orange, the air wet and cold. In a few hours my friends are picking me up to go back home. What an experience Bushfire has been! What an experience it is to be alive!

MTN Bushfire 2023, day two

julia.sarantes.andersson — Fri, 15 Mar 2024 12:35:44 +0000

The Global Entity

Part 2 of 3: MTN Bushfire 2023, Day Two

00:00 / 9:04

Starting softly

Saturday morning arrives way too soon. It is day two of Bushfire and I am exhausted from too little sleep and also a bit hungover. Every friend I met yesterday wanted to buy me a beer or do a shot together. I am blaming the festive energy for getting carried away, I completely forgot I am not 21 years old anymore.

The rest of the festival people staying at the Legends Backpackers Lodge, felt the same. Nobody was rushing, thank goodness. We took a super chilled morning, stopping at the shopping center The Gables to eat some brunch. Mugg & Beans food delivers a level of marvelous heaviness; it sinks my whole energy. After six months of beans and rice and matapa, the fast food completely floors me (and not in a good way). It was truly delicious though!

The Bushfire festival area is already buzzing with happy, dancing festival participants when we get there. Feeling quite drowsy from the brunch still, we decided to start the day at the Amphitheatre stage. It is the only stage that has a roof and places to sit, perfect for my current energy level! The band that is about to perform has invited Namakau Star to front their performance. The energy in the audience is erratic and unfocused when she goes on stage but as soon as she starts singing, a silence lowers itself over the Amphitheatre. By the end of her performance, pretty much everyone there is dancing. The power of art and the influence of artists hits me full force. I think… I think I could also do that. I think I should… I’m supposed to write music and perform. Maybe that is what is next for me.

The highlight of Bushfire: Thobile Makhoyane

As I have said before, I did not come to Bushfire for the line-up. Honestly, I felt relieved that this was my attitude before coming here. Otherwise, the composition of Saturday’s line-up would have been disappointing. Being on a continent so vast and rich in music of every kind, a ´great international music festival´, doesn’t necessarily mean listening to European bands… I don’t know if it was the structure of the line-ups itself, or the selection, that made it hard for me to stay put at one stage. Instead I spend the day mingling between one stage to the next.

Right before the festival started, almost all of the people I was supposed to go with, canceled. I was afraid this was going to make the festival a lonely experience but today, floating around between different clicks, I just felt blessed. This way of existing suits my Aqua-babe personality perfectly! After losing my friends for the 11th time I decide to head back to the Amphitheatre stage. There is somebody about to perform that I simply can’t miss!

I arrive just in time as Thobile Makhoyane takes the stage. She is an artist from Eswatini with her base in Maputo, Mozambique. Her presence glows even stronger than her vibrant, red gown. I’m filled with excitement! With this artist, you never know what flavour she has in store. On the few occasions that I have had the pleasure of witnessing her live performances, they have never been the same. If the title ‘creative genius’ is applicable on anyone, it is Thobile Makhoyane.

What has been consistent in her live acts is how her performances always leave you moved. No matter what energy you came into the room with, you will be moved by her. By her voice, her energy and mere presence. Tonight is no different. After a whole day of wandering between stages, never really feeling settled anywhere; Thobiles voice grounds me. Something in her vibration makes me want to try to be as present as she is, not to miss a single thing.

Just like her voice made me run to the Main Stage yesterday as she opened Bushfire 2023, her voice calls to me tonight. In a matter of seconds, I have descended the stone laid stairs and find myself in the middle of the now dancing crowd. I emerge myself completely and thank my lucky stars that this is my life now.

Nightly Adventures at the Bushfire Camping

I ended my Saturday night in the festival camp area. Earlier that evening, as I discovered the delicious Global Village Food, I had run into one of the best people I know: Bolo-do-amor, Gil. It means Cake of Love in Portuguese and I could not think of a better nickname for this energetic entity!

Even though he was working all through-out Bushfire, we managed to get a few dances in together. Let me tell you, he is the best dance partner-in-crime that anyone could ever ask for. An energy that never ceases and with a light that increases the frequencies of everyone around him. Eventually, Bolodoamor had to go back to work and that’s how I end up at the festival campsite with a friend of Bolo. Let’s call him Mike. Mike is friendly and eager to show me around.

As the guards let us through the gates, a whole new world opens up before me. Fresh water access and well lit and clean bathrooms to name a few! Everywhere I look, people are huddled together by campfires and boom boxes outside green and grey tents. The smoke from the many fires linger like an intense incense in a closed room, far away I hear drums. I suddenly feel the energy that everyone has emitted when they have spoken about Bushfire. The mystery. The community. The creativity. It’s all there, in the all encompassing smoke. Next year, I am definitely camping!

In the middle of the camp site, there are several seating arrangements around different fires. There is a bar and a food place and some of the groups gathered are playing music on different loudspeakers. Instead of a roof, there are carnival lights hung up like a tivoli tent, making it a beacon of light and direction at the pretty dim campsite. I look around, I could probably find my way here on my own tomorrow night. I have heard that the campsite afterparties Sunday night, when the last performance has ended, are crazy and I don’t plan to miss out!

“So, that boyfriend of yours… is it serious?” Mikes’ question pulls me away from the schemes of tomorrow. I sigh. We have already talked about this. Twice. Do I have a boyfriend? Yes. No. The real answer is irrelevant. I have found that the easiest answer to this question, when out partying, is yes. That evidently doesn’t stop it from being a topic of interest though. This time, I answer by proclaiming my deepest love and gratitude to having female friends. I ask him, why is friendship not enough? It’s not like he knows me anyways, we met a few hours ago. Why is friendship not the ultimate goal?

The situation annoys me, why should I keep investing my energy into a conversation with somebody who apparently only sees the value in that if he gets to be physical with me. It touches on another subject close to my heart: security and female independence. I am here because the company of this man made it possible for me to safely explore a new area at night. The safety of my ‘protector’ is guaranteed through my friendship to another man. Ever since I started becoming independent, I am time and time again reminded that my safety and well-being exists at the mercy of the people I surround myself with. How limiting. And yet, when Mike puts me in a cab at four AM I am eternally grateful for his care.

If you want the experience in video format you should check out my tiktok!

MTN Bushfire Festival in Eswatini

julia.sarantes.andersson — Tue, 12 Mar 2024 09:45:32 +0000

The Global Entity

Part 1 of 3: MTN Bushfire Festival In Eswatini

00:00 / 15:13

Traveling to Eswatini: attempt one

Did you know that in a tiny country, called the Kingdom of Eswatini, lies one of Africas most popular music festivals? I attended the amazing MTN Bushfire festival in Eswatini and now I am ready to share the experience with you! I was introduced to Bushfire when I was in Cape Town, November 2022, lots of my friends wanted to go. They described it as a huge, international music festival with over 20 000 participants, for Africans, by Africans. Amazing, I thought. It will be the perfect opportunity to reunite with my friends from South Africa and experience my first, big, African music festival together!

Not feeling like I had the sufficient gear to camp in Eswatini during winter (May-September), I decided to stay at Legends Backpacker Lodge nearby the festival area. I’m very glad I did as winter here is surprisingly chilly at night. Plus my journey to Eswatini took an unexpected turn. My passport was confiscated by the border migration claiming that I didn’t have a proper visa. A whole eight hours I was held in dispense not knowing what was going to happen. Eventually, all the issues were resolved but by then the borders were closed and I had to spend the night in a house filled with male police officers. Not a situation I would wish on anyone, especially not a solo traveling woman.

Nothing bad happened. Or let me put it this way, nothing further traumatising happened that night. The officers were nice and respectful and tried to make me feel okay which was a stark contrast to how we, just a few hours earlier, had been deadlocked in an exhausting and, to me, terrifying power battle. Their efforts of kindness didn’t comfort much, my body and whole being reacted instinctively to the potentially violent situation. Nobody would have heard me scream. There was nobody there except for me and the police, that made me terrified. I see the irony of that statement but I’m sure most of you would have felt the same.

Exhausted from all the fear and stress accumulated during the day I eventually managed to fall asleep feeling anything but safe. When I woke up in the morning my hips were clenched together so tightly that I have to lie on my back for a few minutes, knees to my chest, just rocking side to side, in order for them to loosen up. I think I will have to type a what-not-to-do manual some day, retelling all of my many visa crises I’ve had these past months (read about it here).

Entering into Eswatini: attempt two

The kombi (a minibus, Eswatini’s public transport) that had taken me to the border, had left me there the night before when they confiscated my passport. In the morning, when I got all of my papers back, I managed to hitch a ride from the border to the nearest town. From there, it was only two hours till I reached my final destination, Ezulwini Valley. Eswatini’s voluptuous mountains and hills welcomed me as I sit in the back of a fully packed kombi.

A kind looking lady strikes up a conversation with me, in an instant I have latched on and dumped all of my past 18 traumatic hours over her. Her face shifts from disbelief to anger to a grimace of sympathy, relief and fear at the same time. Then, just as suddenly, her face lights up with joy, she takes my hand and proclaims “But you are good now.”

This summarises something that has been so poignant it has been written on my nose throughout this entire trip. To hear it yet again now, in the back of a warm kombi, next to a kind stranger, makes me laugh out loud. There is a, to me, very liberating ability amongst many who live here, to focus on their present blessings. It is true, I am good.

Nothing bad happened. I am safe, I am good… now. The kind lady and I laugh together as we make fun of toxic masculinity traits in security providing jobs. Laughing together does me good and I can feel the tension in my body moving a little. But the very real danger of the situation hits me once again and makes the laugh get stuck in my throat. I return to gazing out at the endless mountains eating the ever circling road. Today could have been a very different day for me. My stomach clenches as my thoughts trail off into what ifs’.

My next home: Legends Backpacker Lodge

The fog lies mysteriously around the dynamic landscape obscuring the rest of the greenery, creating an air of deep magic. The sun warms my stiff body through the tiny, dirty side windows and I can feel myself coming back to life. I have arrived! The Legends Backpacker Lodge lies amongst ancient trees in a valley opening up towards the mountainous Eswatini horizon.

Decorated with lots of quirky and creative decor, the backpacker has an outside and an inside common area with seating, wifi, a common kitchen and a bar – just how I like my backpackers! The dorms are fresh and roomy with thick blankets to keep the cool night air away. I see signs and info sheets about hiking trails and incredible nature experiences. I make a mental note that I have to come back here and experience it properly some day. The next 24 hours I spent mostly sleeping and eating trying to recover from the too dramatic journey here.

The day after I arrived, I greet and hug friends as they drop in from different locations on the continent. Phone calls and messages start coming in as friends get their local sim cards activated; the planning and organizing for tomorrows’ first festival day is in full rotation. As the sun lowers Ezulwini Valley into a purple haze I can feel the energy changing within – all of the surrounding collective is getting ready to receive 20 000 dancing souls. I’m ready. A bit shaken albeit, but ready nonetheless.

The first day of MTN Bushfire festival 2023

On Friday I wake up with all of the Gods and Divine energies on my side. I can feel it! I pack my party bag with all layers of clothing I might need through the day and night and spend a fair few minutes cursing my decision to not bring my neon eyelashes. Eventually I get going to the festival area, despite festival access passes not being released till four PM, I somehow get mine from a kind stranger who has also arrived three hours too early.

I sit down to wait in the shade next to a group who turns out to be a group of local dealers. They are excited as they expect business to be good this year. Real good. One of them curiously asks where I’m from and if this is my first time at Bushfire festival. When I say it is, he generously gives me the A-B-C of where the shortest toilet lines will be, how to catch a festival shuttle back and forth from the festival area, and what substances to avoid in Eswatini in general. I take the opportunity to ask the women in the group about the safety during the night. They answered that they always feel safe going everywhere at Bushfire alone, even the toilet at night, but that they wouldn’t accept a drink from just any stranger.

As one of the guys in the group lights up, about 50 Eswatini police officers walk by. The group start laughing as they see my frozen, shocked expression. Smoking is not legal in this country. “Chill man! THIS IS BUSHFIRE!” they yell as they continue laughing. One of them turns to me with a serious face and says “But only during Bush hey, otherwise you can get in trouble for smoking even a cigarette on the street.” People have started gathering outside the main entrance and the group decides it is time to split up and get to work.

With its first festival being held back in 2007, MTN Bushfire is today known as one of the best international music festivals in Africa and a mega hyped-must-experience. To say I am psyched to be here is an understatement. I decide to get some food before the stages open and find a delicious, authentic Ethiopian food place at the Bring Your Fire stage.

As I sit and shuffle the food into my system, friends from all over pop up. As we hug, catch up and decorate each other with glitter, I am overwhelmed with the community I feel. The people I was supposed to come here with had last minute changes resulting in me essentially traveling alone. But now, sitting here, surrounded by people that I met somewhere along my nine months on this continent, I feel held and part of. Everything is as it should.

As the sun sets and darkness wells over the festival arena, different lights, circus artists, drummers and fire artists start appearing everywhere. The festival area is gradually filling up with people and the energy is rising with anticipation. Right before the first music act is about to start, I end up losing my already way too drunk group of friends I was hanging out with. I stand under the star filled Eswatini sky and breathe, unsure of which stage I want to start at. A careful, soft voice behind me interrupts my thoughts.

“Sorry, excuse me…” she says, shifting her eyes between the ground and my face. “Sorry-I-just-always-wanted-to-ask-as-stranger-but-never-had-the…” Ask a stranger what, I wonder as the sound of her sentence trails off into the ground. Her face lights up as our conversation starts to flow naturally, starting from somewhere in the middle, not remembering to exchange even our names. She is a creative from Eswatini, a whole vibe, with the most intrinsic braiding I have ever seen.

A voice rings out over the whole festival area, a voice that vibrates from the ground up, penetrating the cores of everyone present. For a second that felt infinite, the whole festival paused and held its breath. I turn to my new found companion and exclaim in realisation “It’s Thobile! Thobile Makhoyane.”

With full comprehension, my new friend grabs our drinks in one hand and my hand in the other and together we rush towards the Main stage. We run through the crowds of beautiful, excited festival goers and get there just in time to see Thobile Makhoyane perform the first part of the opening act. I am yet to meet somebody that can command a crowd with merely her voice the way Thobile can. Her performance is divine and way too short. Luckily, she is performing again on Saturday in the Amphitheater so I will have a second chance to see her.

After Bushfire’s stages have all opened, my friend with the beautiful hair turns to me and asks if I want to meet the other creatives of Eswatini. I eagerly accept and we proceed to make our way to the Bring your Fire
stage as she explains how the stage is a interactive creative stage but also an advocacy space. Surrounding the stage, local and international NGOs and IGOs, activists and volunteers are gathered around tables telling the stories of their work.

Bushfire is and always has been driven by a desire to create social change and impact. Each year the festival supports different projects, this year it went to projects supporting children and empowering women. You can read more about that here. We arrive just as the performances have started rolling. The spoken word floors me. The ones I feel the most are the ones that mix english with what I assume is the local language seSwati.

I quietly notice how I am surrounded by the young queers of Eswatini. The conversations of who is performing, who wasn’t invited and the political implications of that are flowing. Who came with who is also a hot topic. I notice how I relax in a way I haven’t in months. Solidarity. Community. Siblingship. This is the first time I am in a queer context since I left Sweden in October 2022. I feel happy and safe, excited for being welcomed in. Shortly after the first performances are done I get a phone call from my South African friend Lerato. She and her friend have arrived and are ready to dance!

I must confess that I came to Bushfire more for the experience of it than for the specific artists and line-ups. If I’m going to be upfront I might as well also confess I have about zero knowledge about artists in general. Besides the idols I had as a ten year old, I don’t remember any names, titles or lyrics of the music I currently consume. So imagine my surprise when I, in the middle of the sea of people dancing in front of the Ballantine’s Firefly stage, get to hear my all time favorite song of 2022. I turn around and see the UK DJ Megatronic pumping the hit and my personal anthem all of last year: Doja.

My whole being explodes and I start dancing and singing. Maybe dancing and lyrically shouting out the last words of every sentence is a more accurate description… The rest of the crowd is not getting it, but I don’t care. I dance like there is no tomorrow, like every stomp will bring me closer to the beat of the earth and every jump has the potential to swing me up into a new, higher dimension. I always said this day would come. Through all the visa issues, isolation and general mishaps, I knew the day would come, where I would finally start dancing and never stop. I feel now, that day is here.

At around three AM I get a call from one of the friends who is also staying at the hostel. “Are you ready to go home?” We manage to negotiate an okay price with one of the many taxi drivers outside the festival area. In the taxi home I feel all of the impressions welling over me. How lucky am I?! I turn and look at my almost sleeping friend and happily exclaim “I can’t wait for tomorrow!” He almost opens his eyes to smirk at me “Me too hey. Me too.”

Crowdfunding project in Benin: the roots and origin of Salsa dance and rhythm

julia.sarantes.andersson — Sun, 23 Apr 2023 15:22:55 +0000

The Global Entity

Crowdfunding project in Benin: the roots and origin of Salsa dance and rhythm

00:00 / 10:00

Meeting Eldred

The last time I saw Eldred was probably at Sun-Kissed Salsa. A phenomenal outdoor salsa event where you dance by the sea as the sun lowers Cape Town into its golden light. I’m so grateful for getting to know Eldred at the festival a few weeks back. Not only did he give countless, joyful dances during the festival, he is also the organizer of Cuban salsa events. Just my type of Salsa! It’s funny, you never know who your next dance partner might be and what worlds may open up thanks to a simple dance connection. You can find the Sun-Kissed Salsa every second Sunday by Seapoint Promenade all summer long. As he runs in between dancing couples trying to capture their moment it is easy to see why some people refer to him as Bubbles. His sparkling eyes are always smiling at somebody and wherever he goes, his energy spreads like wildfire.

When he calls today, I’ve been down with the flu for over three weeks. I am climbing the walls out of boredom, but alas, I am a walking flem hazard so I am staying put. Simply imagine my joy when Eldred called! “I have an idea” is how he starts the conversation. Immediately I am alert, not one thought left of self pity that comes when one is sick, far away from home. “Tell me everything” I respond and the conversation took off from there.

The importance of media and marketing for a festival tto succeed.

Eldred wants to crowdfund a photo project. A project of gratitude. A project of reclaiming space. A project of awareness. Let me explain. 2023 is the tenth year of the Benin International Dance Festival (BIDAF). Benin is a West African country between Togo and Nigeria. BIDAF is an Afro-Latin dance festival that takes place the first week of May every year. Eldred tells me it is one of the greatest festivals, with one of the highest standards that he has ever visited.

Despite this, there is almost no digital footprint of its ten year history. Almost no digital promotion. Last year was Eldred’s first time participating in the festival and he asked himself, based on the information available online, would he have bought a ticket? Probably not. Luckily, Eldred had some good friends vouch for the festival, but not everyone has these connections. If the festival isn’t leaving a big enough digital footprint it will be hard to bring in new participants. This is something that Eldred wants to contribute to through photo and video, sound and production.

The Afro in Afro-Latin Dances is missing from the global narrative.

“But the project is bigger than that,” he tells me. Bigger than marketing, larger than the capturing beautiful moments. “Because when I dance in Europe, or elsewhere, and people dance with me, afterwards they immediately speak to me in Spanish. And if I look at them strangely they might switch to Portuguese. And if I still look at them strangely, they may eventually ask, where are you from? And I say I’m from Africa, and they go huh? What they forget is that this is Afro-Latino, Afro-Caribbean, Afro-Cuban. And I think the African side of the Latin dances has been lost in this. So for me, the personal connection about being an African and claiming our rightful place in the shared history of creating this universal expression of passion, life, freedom, sorrow and pain, that is what is essential.”

I laugh as he says this, remembering how I thought he was Cuban after our first dance together and how I really couldn’t understand that he, in fact, wasn’t a fellow latino. Not even a little bit. To dance the way he dances, with every rhythm, every emotion, every move loaded with historical meaning, and not be Latino..? I have seldom met anyone like it. And even though Eldred started his dance career as a five year old and has been dancing everything from ballet, contemporary, African contemporary, modern jazz, to ballroom and Latin ballroom, and his immense skills could be explained by that… I believe that mine and others’ immediate assumption of Eldred being Latin American, speaks volumes to what more and more people are starting to talk about today: the erasure of Africa’s contribution in the Latin dances.

Salsa's roots and history.

When it comes to Salsa and other Latin dances and music styles, the roots of the rhythms come from Africa. “Because that’s the other side of it, we forget that this history is not simply about a joyful expression. It’s about oppression, it’s about suppression, it’s about enslavement.” It is through our human history and interactions that the rhythms traveled to Latin America. “And Benin has a further story to tell about the dances because in fighting for its own independence, the Cubans and other folks from the Caribbean came and supported them in their fight. And the Benin musicians were incredible in terms of creating its own African blend of salsa music. So you have Gumbo, Salsa and elements of Son that comes into it. And people will dance to that with the same freedom and expression and gaiety as if you’re dancing anywhere in the Caribbean. And yet you know that the roots of these dances come from West Africa.”

“So there is this; the musical history and connection with where the dance has gone from West Africa to the Caribbean. There’s the Caribbean and the Cubans coming back and fighting in the local Revolution and bringing salsa home to its roots and giving it its current day structure. From the musical and folkloric expression to the more organized entity that we today call Salsa in all its iterations. And that is a story that hasn’t been captured and told. There is a history and a voice that is missing when we think of Salsa. But this is also about giving voice to Benin. Because the festival in Benin is not just a Dance Festival. It is a dance and destination festival because the cultural exchanges, the access to the folklore, to the social political understanding, and the linguistic experience, and the cultural experience of being introduced to the Orishas, to the Gods, the dances, the food, the textures, the the clothing, everything about it.”

BIDAF Festival and purpose of crowdfund project

“[At the BIDAF Festival] you get exposed to and you understand the connection between all of those elements and the dance. All of the stories of the people of Benin and West Africa. The story of the diaspora, the story of the slavery, the story of enslavement, the story of liberation and being free. Additionally it is about the freedom of shaking those shackles, especially in the Mind through the Body. And that we could feel ourselves to be alive when we danced. It’s the idea of the connection between Roots to Routes; a route as in where the roots come from, and the routes that it’s taken through the diaspora to spread across the world.”

To summarize, the ambition with the photo project is to crowdfund it this year, monetize the project in sales of photo books and postcards so that the production can fund itself the year after. The purpose of the project is threefold: create marketing opportunities to generate sales, capture the BIDAF legacy, and my personal favourite, reclaim and acknowledge African heritage in the Latin dances.

Do you want to contribute?

The crowdfund is open for one week and one week only! The goal is to gather 1,910 USD by the 30th of April, seven days from today. No contribution is too small, everything is appreciated and will be put to good use.

How?

The crowdfunding has been closed. Thanks for your contribution!

Interview with Angus Prince: Organiser of The Mother City Dance Festival

julia.sarantes.andersson — Mon, 13 Mar 2023 19:58:11 +0000

The Global Entity

Interview with Angus Prince: Founder of The Mother City Dance Festival

00:00 / 9:02

After the Mother City Dance Festival I decided to contact Angus Prince, one of the main festival organizers, for an interview. The festival hosted around 500 people from 50 different countries, had a crazy amount of top-notch workshops and managed to create a community feeling in the short amount of time of the festival. I just had to know more! The picture above portrays Angus Prince and Ash Porter. Picture taken by ShutterMonkey Production.

Dance background of Angus Prince

Despite having two accomplished social dancers as parents, it wasn’t till Angus was a young adult that he decided to seriously dedicate time and space for dancing in his life. By coincidence he saw an ad in the local newspaper where a woman was looking for a temporary dance partner to compete with. Her partner had suffered an accident and needed time to recover. Together, she and Angus ended up training and competing in Latin ballroom for three and a half years. When Angus, originally from Port Elizabeth, later moved to Cape Town, he saw a sign advertising salsa lessons for 10 rand each (equivalent to ＄0.55). “I did a few beginners lessons, I did some advanced lessons and a few weeks later I came third in a local competition. About 6 months later I won that competition. That was 21 years ago.”

Even though Angus came from the Latin ballroom community, the music played in the Latin ballroom spaces at the time e did not feel like him, he tells me. It was when he first saw the movie Mambo Kings that he was first exposed to real latin music. To say that the music completely floored him is an understatement.

Today he runs Evolution Dance Company, his own dance school in Cape Town. If you spend a week in Cape Town you will definitely be able to attend at least one or two good salsa events or socials. This, however, wasn’t the case when Angus started his salsa journey. “You know we didn’t have access to higher level training material so we started finding DVDs. I bought the 2003 West coast salsa congress dvd – the LA salsa congress with Albert Torres. I saw people doing things that I couldn’t have imagined.”

Angus started researching every and any kind of salsa style and music style that there is. He founded his dance school and in 2013 he was able to bring a group of kids from Khayelitsha, a township in Cape Town, to perform at the LA salsa congress. “That’s when I first met Albert Torres. We developed a friendship over time and eventually came up with the concept Roots of Rhythm which was a red thread throughout the entire Mother City Dance Festival.”

What is Roots of Rhythm?

“All of the Latin rhythms come from Africa. This is where the rubber hits the road for me because people are dancing around the world but they actually don’t know the roots of what they are dancing to. That’s where the roots of rhythm come in, we are saying come and experience the real African roots of the music and dances. That’s why we opened the festival on Saturday night with the African dances. We can’t get away from the fact that those rhythms and those traditional movements are where it came from. It has evolved, developed, it has become super technical, super acrobatic, etc… the industry is such, we are creating products so that we can sell a product. But the Roots of Rhythm is not about the product, it’s about the feeling, it’s about the connection, it’s about the essence. That’s what it is for me.”

Angus participated in developing the concept Roots of Rhythm in 2016 together with Albert Torres. To start a festival in Cape Town was Alberts dream but unfortunately he passed away in 2017 before he was able to see it through. The festival idea lay dormant for a while but eventually a group of people who Albert had mentored came together to pick up the pieces and make Alberts last dream come true. In October 2019 the festival premiered with huge success! The second festival had to wait for the pandemic to pass but late October 2022 it was time to do it all over again. When I’m speaking to Angus now, the planning for the 2023 Mother City Dance Festival is ongoing.

What is the Mother City Dance Festival? What makes it special?

“Cape Town is South Africa’s mother city. It was the first city that was populated, it’s the place where the world connected. Before there was the Suez canal, people had to sail around Africa. So you have every country in the world represented in Cape Town. It is a hub of culture, a hub of trade, of interaction. For me, to be able to connect all of that with dancing, with people from around the globe, that is what it is all about. I would like it to become an event on the global dance calendar where people feel ‘you know what, we have to go to The Mother City Dance Festival’. Dancing on the beach, visiting the cheetah sanctuary, dancing in one of Cape Town’s many vineyards or in the shadow of Table Mountain – where else in the world can you experience this?”

What is the purpose of Mother City Dance Festival?

“So the idea of the festival is to showcase cape town and South Africa and to put the Mother City Dance Festival on the international festival map. Because we may not be big yet but we got really good quality in terms of workshop selection, performances, DJ’s and everything that goes around. The idea of an afro-latin dancer in Africa doesn’t really exist and if we don’t create a platform for professionals we are going to continue paying over price for European events and pro’s even though the talent exists locally.”

Can you give insight to why that’s a perception of African dancers?

“One of the big things, where there was a lot of pressure, was who I was bringing from Europe to teach kizomba. But why would I bring Europeans to teach kizomba to Africans? It is an ongoing battle because South Africans by their very nature, and unfortunately it’s historical, measure themselves against Europe. What I am finding very interesting about the non-African artists that I am engaging with is that they all want to go to Africa to reconnect with the rhythms.

As an African community we don’t really celebrate each other. I think it’s about a surviving mentality more than a thriving mentality. We are a very Eurocentric country but we need to generate some African pride. We had representation from about 50 countries in 2022 but the majority of them are Angolan, Mozambican and South African. We’ve got very strong ties to the dance communities of Mozambique and Angola, we support their events and travel between our countries quite often to do workshops and events. That is part of the Roots of Rhythm concept: we want to get people, including locals, to understand that traveling and dancing in Africa is an opportunity to develop and grow. It’s about creating value for the dance community. That’s what we are trying to do.”

If you want updates about this years festival you can follow the Mother City Dance Festival on Facebook and Instagram.

Festival Adventures – The Global Entity

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Interviewing Zoë Modiga

Reflections from one year later

The dreamers and weavers of Luju festival

Interview with Mrs. M

Interview with Lenna Bahule

Fashion, food and resilience at Luju Festival

Fashion at Luju Festival

Interview with Chef Mokgadi Itsweng

"I stand on the broad shoulders of women." Chef Mokgadi

First day of Luju Festival in Eswatini 2023

Beginner tips on solo traveling and crossing borders from Mozambique

Pre Luju jitters

First night of Luju Festival 2023

Interview with Dato Seiko

Luju's line-up Friday night 2023

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30 days in Eswatini: Reflections from a detour

MTN Bushfire: A catalyst for change in festival tourism

Visa issues and redirection

My safe haven: an unexpected turn to Eswatini

A month in Ezulwini, Eswatini

MTN Bushfire 2023, day three

The grand finale of Bushfire festival

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Navigating public spaces, night time and men

A new dawn: There is hope for masculinity yet

MTN Bushfire 2023, day two

Starting softly

The highlight of Bushfire: Thobile Makhoyane

Nightly Adventures at the Bushfire Camping

MTN Bushfire Festival in Eswatini

Traveling to Eswatini: attempt one

Entering into Eswatini: attempt two

My next home: Legends Backpacker Lodge

The first day of MTN Bushfire festival 2023

Crowdfunding project in Benin: the roots and origin of Salsa dance and rhythm

Meeting Eldred

The importance of media and marketing for a festival tto succeed.

The Afro in Afro-Latin Dances is missing from the global narrative.

Salsa's roots and history.

BIDAF Festival and purpose of crowdfund project

Do you want to contribute?

Interview with Angus Prince: Organiser of The Mother City Dance Festival

Dance background of Angus Prince

What is Roots of Rhythm?

What is the Mother City Dance Festival? What makes it special?

What is the purpose of Mother City Dance Festival?​

Can you give insight to why that’s a perception of African dancers?

What is the purpose of Mother City Dance Festival?