Let's talk about.. body acceptance

Let’s talk about.. body acceptance

In 2013, I was in therapy for an eating disorder. I came together with a therapy group once a week for the duration of nine months. For years I have been wanting to share about this on my blog. I never dared to. It was my secret, not to be...
Magic..

Magic..

Finally, I get to tell you some dating stories. The first man I called from the ‘ballenboekje’ gave this crazy project the best start I could wish for (remember that little book of phone numbers my friend put together for me during her wedding?). He loved the idea of going...
You Can't Win If You Don't Play

You Can’t Win If You Don’t Play

Disclaimer: this blog post will not tell you about the first date I had with a guy from het ballenboekje. It might, however, answer your ‘but why a date project?!’-question. In the last week of May, I flew out to the United States for yet another wedding. It was a...
Single at the Wedding

Single at the Wedding

It has been two weeks since I called out my date project. Spoiler alert: I haven’t been on any dates since. Indeed, no second date with the Kingsday-man. I asked him some questions for this blog -proper journalistic research- and then he realised he just couldn’t date a journalist. (Well,...
First Date

First Date

Last week I deleted all dating apps from my phone. I hadn’t been on a date in many (many) months and had installed them in a half-hearted attempt to change my luck. But pretty quickly I figured meeting people virtually based on a swipe wasn’t for me. I told a...
Ben je bang voor de dood?

Ben je bang voor de dood?

Er werden medicijnen voorgeschreven om de alzheimer te vertragen. Maar het bleek dat slow-motion het lijden alleen maar zichtbaarder maakt. Na een paar jaar met deze ziekte heeft ze besloten uit het leven te stappen. De euthanasie is goedgekeurd, het aftellen is begonnen. Zo opgelucht was ze “dat het mag”...
The Best Of

The Best Of

Fifteen Months of Travelling Things I learned about myself: I don’t send postcards. I send hearts on WhatsApp. Dancing is my drug, my energy, my first love always. My friends and family are part of who I am. I am independent and strong. I have principles; that’s okay. I live...
Why do girls wear make up?

Why do girls wear make up?

Why do girls wear make up? Because we have come to think we are not beautiful enough without. Why do girls shave their legs? Because we are told we are hideous with hair. Why do girls order salads and drink skinny lattes? Because we are made to believe that being...
Latest entries
Pizza with an African

Pizza with an African

He got up to order a pizza, then paused. With a worried expression he asked if I was a vegetarian, said he couldn’t continue our evening if I was. I laughed at his relief when I said I wasn’t and jokingly exclaimed: “you Africans and your meat!”. He looked at me in disbelief and started...
Home is Where..?

Home is Where..?

Home is where the heart is. But what if its GPS signal is mixed up? The past weeks my heart told me it was ready to go home to reunite with friends and family. But now that the end is near, an anxious feeling seeps in. I wonder, will my heart follow me to the place that I...
Infecting the City

Infecting the City

The arts festival Infecting the City may be the best way I have ever seen art being brought to “the public”. For the duration of one week city life was shook up by artists. They performed all over Cape Town’s public spaces like the station, shopping mall, in the park and on squares. It was free for all,...
We Should Love

We Should Love

Up on a hill in a beautiful garden a man sang to me. His voice was the most beautiful, his words the most true. I felt love. We’ve got holes in our heart. We’ve got holes in our lives. We’ve got holes but we carry on. The garden was Kirschtenbosch Botanical Garden, Cape Town, and the man...
Heimwee naar Holland

Heimwee naar Holland

Daar zit ze met een ijsblauwe trui aan en sjaal om. Ze heeft me net de tuin laten zien door het oog van de laptop. “Kijk, lieverd, het hagelt.” Ik zie geen hagel, de verbinding is te traag voor het vallen van de stenen, maar ik zie wel een waterige zon in een winterlucht. Ik...
My Life With Didi: Black & White

My Life With Didi: Black & White

I considered starting a series of blog posts called “My Life With Didi”. Unfortunately, I cannot commit myself to writing regularly about it: too busy living it! Didi is my Capetonian housemate, she is the same age as me (27), does the job I would want to do (Project manager for cultural projects), and decorates...
The Art Of Boredom: Take A Bus

The Art Of Boredom: Take A Bus

The appeal of long-distance bus travel: you sit and stare, listen to some music and become increasingly bored with your idle state of nothingness. There are articles promoting the art of boredom and if you’ve been wondering how to practice it I suggest you take the bus. There is something oddly satisfactory in being bored...
Proclamation of Love

Proclamation of Love

South Africa, beautiful, complex, intriguing South Africa. Where a black taxi driver advices against your given destination because “there are many blacks”. Where dramatic mountain tops give way to wild coast lines, and fertile winelands bring colour to arid desert landscapes. Where you can drink a rooibos cappuccino, or an endless selection of good wine. Where you...

The Final Chapter

Chapter 1: Backpacking Argentina, Bolivia and Peru, getting used to living the free life. Chapter 2: Dance workshops and nature parks in The United States. Chapter 3: Working (as volunteer) and travelling in Malawi, Africa. Chapter 4: Travelling and working (as volunteer) in South Africa. I am currently reading the fourth chapter which, like preceding chapters, does not disappoint....
Photos!

Photos!

As the gallery on my website does not let me upload pictures anymore :-(, I have ventured out to Facebook. Find photos on www.facebook.com/seenbyphine (should be accessible even if you do not have a facebook account).
To Give or Not To Give?

To Give or Not To Give?

To give or not to give? This is my question. The Malawian kids have no doubt about it: they all tell you “Give me my money.” It is hardly a pressing request, and is as easily said as the Malawian greeting “Hello, how are you?”. Not one tourist I know gives the child money when asked in...
Goodbye Sengabay

Goodbye Sengabay

To mark my farewell from Sengabay and the Baptist Medical Clinic my housemates and I organised a goodbye party. We put some chairs out, prepared drinks and snacks, played a little music. Our first ‘guests’ brought stacks of plastic chairs with them: the small gathering of seats that we had set up extended to a...