KIM FELDMAN
Radical Inclusion. Gifting. Decommodification. Radical Self-Reliance. Radical Self-Expression. Communal Effort. Civic Responsibility. Leave No Trace. Participation. Immediacy. Each One, Teach One.
These are the principles that guide AfrikaBurn – a seven-day experiment in creating an alternate world in the desolate Tankwa Karoo. A pop-up village in the great outdoors. A world filled to the brim with art, creativity, and community.
AfrikaBurn is found only once a year about 110 km from Calvinia; abouit 120 km from Sutherland; about 160 km from Matjiesfontein; and about 180 km from Ceres. There is no formal entrance or exit for this event.
Ask any “burner” and they will tell you it’s not a festival, it’s not the music or the art or the desert; it’s the people, a smorgasbord of humanity that packs up their lives to create a new world.
The AfrikaBurn story began more than a decade ago. “The seed germinated all by itself, it wasn’t referencing Burning Man; they didn’t even know what Burning Man was back then,” explains Jonathan Hoffenberg – aka Ranger Bob. It was about a few friends creating a safe space for people to express themselves – without cops or security, only rangers, volunteers from within the community.
Jono, a King David alumnus – was there from day one. He grew the movement as the portfolio head for Health and Safety. The AfrikaBurn movement is “based on the values of family and community, it’s how our identity is shaped”, he says.
It is where he came to be forever known as Ranger Bob. “Bob is an everyman, every man is a Ranger,” he says. He is Ranger Bob and an ever-present figure in the AfrikaBurn landscape.
“Judaism is inherently burner,” explains Jono, “it’s being aware that you are in an amazing space but one needs to be wary and self-reliant because of the dangers of the world.” He was drawn to the desert, that feeling of being small to the forces of nature. “You can’t help but feel primal when you’re in that space.”
Eitan Stern has been going for as long as he can remember and after that first year, he has never looked back. “It’s like Rosh Hashanah, it’s on the calendar. It is just something you do.”
A DJ in “Jews for Techno”, he helped create the Golden Calf Cult, a theme camp situated in a far-off corner of the desert during AfrikaBurn. “It’s a story of people in the desert looking for something, waiting for something to arrive, so we had a big party.” There is humour in everything Eitan does. He finds his art – and identity – in the space between the serious and the fun. This year his mom finally came along too.
Another Jewish mother who came to the “Burn” at her sons’ insistence, is Sue Buchalter. “I didn’t take my children, my children took me.” Her two sons (both in their early twenties) had come previously. They then took their father the following year, and finally convinced their mother to come the next.
She felt privileged to be there, alongside her family. It was something they could all experience together – to be part of the freedom, part of the joy that is AfrikaBurn.
It had been a long week, but Friday night came and they instinctively did what they always did. They lit candles, together with some friends and fellow members of the tribe they had met there and she watched her husband bless her two boys.
“Here we were in the middle of the desert, and we didn’t lose any part of ourselves. I had tears in my eyes watching my family; it had a profound effect on me.”
A young couple walked past and she pulled her partner inside and asked to join, “My mother will be so happy,” she said. Here was a Jewish girl from America, with her non-Jewish boyfriend, celebrating Shabbat in the desert.
“That young girl walked past and recognised something of herself in what we were doing.”
Karen Kallman was convinced to go by her husband, and with her youngest child only one and half years old, the family of seven headed off into the desert. The art, the creativity, the self-expression and the environmental aspects drew her in.
In 2016, AfrikaBurn fell directly over Pesach. After having been for two years, they could not imagine missing it. As a religious family, they decided they would spend the entire chag in the desert and go up early (before the official start) and have seders there.
And so, the Kneidel Maidels were born. Gifting soup and kneidlach throughout the week as well as a Friday night meal where everyone is welcome.
“Wherever we go, we take Shabbat with us.” Her kids see it as part of the greater experience of AfrikaBurn. “They love gifting Shabbat, and in the end, it is the best thing they have ever gifted. It was so affirming, to see everyone embrace [Shabbat] and us [as Jews].”
It wouldn’t be there if we didn’t gift it, explains Karen, summing up the heart of AfrikaBurn.
It is created and defined solely by the people who attend. The old, the young, the families and the lone sharks. It is this community of kindness, of sharing, of openness and tolerance that creates the magic that brings people back, year after year.
From the Kneidel Maidels to the Golden Calf, from the hordes of Israelis to Ranger Bob, Jews have always had, and always made, a home at AfrikaBurn.
