The Soapbox | Where South Africans Speak Out

BY CRAIG PRINSLOO WITH LARA MOSES

Many believe that the main attraction of Earthdance, and other such events, is the music. Regulars know, however, that it’s the emotion that the music triggers rather than the music itself that keeps us coming back for more. It’s a place where people can escape the hustle and bustle that constantly surrounds our daily lives. A place where we come to explore aspects of our minds, bodies and souls through the music in ways that are usually frowned upon by the system. But deep down inside we secretly show the system the finger because what is the system without us?

Earthdance - picture by Orli Barnett

Earthdance is a place where for three days we come and just “be”. We escape to a piece of God’s untouched earth with our tents, sleeping bags and dancing shoes (or lack thereof) to experience freedom of our souls and dance surrounded by likeminded individuals who do not judge our hippy ways but rather respect all who have attended because we came to share our love on this earth for the music.

We not only hear the music but feel it, and once we feel, we move and life is all about the movement. We dance with the children, as the children, and play within our restricted playground of a farm just outside Cape Town. Music feeds our souls from three stages and moves our feet and raises our awareness of the love for it. Bands, DJs and VJs (video jockeys) come and play just for us. We find ourselves listening to diverse genres of music that open our minds to new sounds and melodies that we have never heard of before.

If a group of DJs were given the same sounds and instruments and told to make a song, each would produce their own stylistic interpretation. No song would sound like the next and this very factor is why I personally enjoy these events. Each DJ takes you on a particular journey as he/she plays. Each DJ takes you on a journey that explores diverse and different emotions and sounds which in turn keeps you moving no matter how tired, hungry or cold you are.
What better way to spend a Saturday than sitting on a patch of luscious green grass, sipping on your favourite beverage and listening to a live band or DJ playing a set in front of your very eyes? These are the moments in life were I take a deep breath, close my eyes and think to myself, “Can life get any better than this?”

As the rain of Saturday night came down in buckets, I wondered to myself, “Why did I go so far out of my way and spend so much money to sit in a tent?” It took a close friend to remind me that we came here for the music and a “little” rain shouldn’t detour us. I then reluctantly put on my favorite luminous green hoodie, unzipped my tent and ventured into the rain in search of the dance floor. On my arrival, to my surprise, I immediately noticed the crowd of people dancing. I stood in awe of the human spirit. The crowd stood drenched yet with smiles on their faces, as though the rain was there for them and them alone to enjoy. I then stepped out from the shadows of an observer and took my rightful place under the pulsating lights on the dance floor. The next day I sniffed and blew my nose with pride, as I knew that instead of giving into the temptations of a warm tent, I had braved the elements and really enjoyed my night.

However, it sickens me that people attach certain stereotypes regarding those in attendance that are, for the most part, untrue. I advise that before anybody judges, that they go to the next three-day adventure and make their mind up for themselves as opposed to letting the system dictate to them how they should think, feel and act. The colourful, glow-in-the-dark people who become your best friend on the dance floor make up the system and you surely bump into anyone from a doctor to a lawyer to an advertising buff.

Those in attendance at these events become one nation who are willing to lend a hand, hug or conversation to anyone in need, just to share the love. This world is free (except for R250 entry fee) and our souls float on different highs that for three days don’t think of the lows that tomorrow brings, and when tomorrow comes and we return to our nine-to-five cubicle world of the system, we smile because we made memories and friends that live on this earth and within our souls till our forever ends.

Craig Prinsloo is an ordinary man with extraordinary thoughts. Lara Moses is The Soapbox’s contributing editor.