kaospilots

It's late, and dark. We're in one of the many suburbs of Dar, more than an hours drive from the center. The roads are more potholes with some little road on the side then anything else. Houses have space here, there are trees and bushes and it doesn't feel like town. Our passengers have fallen silent, or are asleep and only the driver and me are awake. Every junction we guess: right or left, in an attempt to escape the web of dirt roads and get back to the main road. Families sit at their verandas, eating and talking in the fresh breeze. We talk with long pauses, about work, home, religion, the future and how hungry we are. Then the topic changes to politics.   Read more...

One of the fancy places in Dar es Salaam. A fast food chain, a bakery, internet café and little tables host lots of youngsters and elderly sipping their juices, chatting. I'm talking to Athman, a student of banking, working in his sister's duka, shop, and always looking for new challenges. We discuss the differences between Tanzania and the Netherlands. He has been in Holland twice on an exchange project and is well acquainted with a Dutch family who treat him like a son.   Read more...

Dropping from the bus my sandal breaks. The repair shop is right in front of me. Dave seizes the opportunity and makes a place on his bench under a tree. While stitching my sandal, the discussion moves back and forth between the six or seven guys around him. Street vendors that keep their tangerines in Dave's eyesight, a guy selling cigarettes per piece from Dave's pack, others seemingly just sitting there advising Dave on the stitching methods.

"Who taught you to fix shoes?" is one of my curious questions to the young Rastafarian. "Njaa, hunger is the best teacher" is his simple answer "I just knew".   Read more...

One thing is to read statistics: "One out of every three French farmers has problems finding a partner", or "20% Of the French say their pessimism towards the future economy prevents them from having any children."

Another thing is to cycle from the Netherlands to Stes Maries de la Mer and see it all for yourself. Having left Luxembourg and its posh behind, we faced sheer emptiness. Thousands of acres of maize fields give way to even bigger fields of wheat, sometimes sunflowers to break the dull. In between little villages; five, six houses around a church.   Read more...

We're sitting in a circle in the beautiful back-garden of The Hub in Rotterdam. The 17 students that started this journey. People of all sorts. Entrepreneurs. Artists. DJ's. Jean-sellers. Farmers. Psychologists. All united with our year of common history. Year of highs and lows. Year of extreme experiences. An intense year. And just like that, it's over. I doubt that it had even occurred to all of us that this moment would be the good bye moment. The moment where our paths dissemble for the summer. All our focus had been on wrapping up the year by securing next years beginning; selecting a Team 2. We had forgotten that our year was now ending.

As the birds sang in the trees, birds that I do not recognize, foreign birds that don't live in my hometown, in my country, and a cat tip-toed between our wooden chairs we realized that this was our ending ceremony. Unplanned we just sat in a circle and shared. Shared our concerns. Shared our wins. Shared our losses. Shared support. Shared gratitude.   Read more...

We grew up in a typical hippy environment: vegetables in our backyard, self-knitted sweaters for Christmas and hiking outings with like-minded families, all together in a bus.

The more our parents cooked buckwheat, soy and parsnip, the more pocket money we took to the candy store. Few days went by without protest against our being 'different'. "They never have this at Sandra's place!" "Why can't you wear normal clothes?"   Read more...

Africa is poor. There is a high unemployment rate. People are uneducated. Food is scarce. Environment is a big mess.

 So cool that the situation in Rotterdam is nearly perfect. Take a look at the Duysstraat this morning:   Read more...

This is how it feels like at the moment, being totally submerged in our may projects. One month of working on assignments from our various partners of the school, one month of showing what we learned during the first year, one month of being in a team with 3 or 4 people instead of our usual 17. Silence at school, lots of activity outside. Exciting!

I heard of movies being shot, meetings held at the beach, interviews being done and websites being set up.   Read more...

When you say trains I think Siberia Express, endless tracks in snowtopped mountains, philosophical discussions with long pauses, excited anticipation of what will reveal itself around the next corner. I feel the rhythmic movement of the carriages that empties my head of thoughts.

When I use trains lately I experience crowds of hurried people, long lines in front of the ticket machine, loud phone conversations about things as interesting as the state of someones plants, the smell of fries mixed with sweat and sticky seats. I read that commuters experience more stress than the average soldier in Afghanistan. I believe it.   Read more...

KaosPilots talk. KaosPilots act. KaosPilots do. KaosPilots sing. KaosPilots dance. KaosPilots co-create. KaosPilots smile. KaosPilots laugh. KaosPilots cry. KaosPilots sing Siyahamba when they're exhausted. KaosPilots pretend to be Samurais. KaosPilots gather freckles on their nose. KaosPilots play. KaosPilots care. KaosPilots tell stories. KaosPilots fight. KaosPilots travel. KaosPilots visit. KaosPilots invite. KaosPilots party. KaosPilots make maps. KaosPilots feed worms. KaosPilots shoot footage. KaosPilots applaud. KaosPilots welcome new friends. KaosPilots love. KaosPilots fall in love. KaosPilots entertain. KaosPilots give insights. KaosPilots surprise. KaosPilots help. KaosPilots do espressos. KaosPilots drink Mojitos. KaosPilots involve. KaosPilots get involved. KaosPilots listen. KaosPilots shout. KaosPilots change.

…and now they blog.   Read more...