White African

For a decade or so I have been coming and going to Kampala - a truly African City as close to the heart of Africa as you will ever get. That was probably what also the British were thinking when they build the railroad from the coast of Mombasa all the way to the border of Congo. During my time in Kampala (a place that I can sincerely say that I love) I have thought about being a white man among black men and women. Although I never seem to come up with good conclusions or answers, then it has given me ever lasting joy. I have always tried to be one of the crowd. Maybe not the most obvious ambition. My gratitude for the way I have been treated has always been tremendous. I have very rarely, if ever, been in a place, where people around me treated me with so much kindness, hospitality and respect as in Kampala. This is one of the many reasons why I call Uganda my African home. Recently I have come across Nada Andersen via Facebook. She is worried about the relationship between Ug...

I am constantly being asked - and more and more so - where I come from. This has happened increasingly since 2005. I am not sure what I am doing to deverve that question. Every time I answer by stating that I am Danish I see a disappointment - especially if the answer comes from a(nother) foreigner. I 2005 I returned from Uganda - for the first time. By that time I felt very strange and maybe for a while a little bit like a foreigner. I would not say that I feel like a foreigner now, but I feel alienated, whereever I am. Right now I am reading a book about two sisters, one white, or skin-coloured as she call herself. She is supposely Danish, another is Black American. Atlanterhavet vokser Can we talk about our cross-etnical heritage? I do not even know if it is about etnicity or culture, but what is culture anyway! I, myself do not have any colour, so after all I do not know anything about these issues - or do I? The words of the skin-coloured sister in the book does not ma...