My first time – When I broke my Oppikoppi virginity

There’s a certain time in a person’s life when they see the light for the first time.

The world opens up to you, you experience it in all its wonder, you see all of the magnificent things in life, you see all of the less magnificent and slightly awkward things in life.

The world tips its hat to you and says “Hello, dear. Look at all these things you’ve been missing out on. Look at all of these people being free. Look at all of these people losing themselves in things they love.”

My first time of seeing the light was at Oppikoppi. And it was a dim, dusty light from a fire burning in a campsite consisting of thousands of people who have one common goal: floating from stage to stage and having as much fun as possible in one weekend. No T’s and C’s. Like in, look how many times you can write the word “Oppi” on your body with a permanent marker-No T’s and C’s.

I was quite the rebel, dreamer, “poet” and adventurer in high school. I dreamed of going to Oppikoppi since I was fifteen. I was always jealous of people going to festivals and concerts, while I had to sit at home, doing a maths project that I’d fail anyway.

I felt I had a bigger cause. I needed to get out and write poems for the people of the world. I had to go out and lose myself in some kind of artistic madness.

In matric I entered a competition where you had to write a poem in order to win yourself Oppikoppi tickets.

I won.

A week before Oppikoppi I managed to organise tickets for three of my friends and we were off to the Koppi in a overloaded Fiesta.

My legs were numb from the mini fridge that was on my lap all the way from Pretoria, but when we drew close to the dusty gates all my pain went out the door.

Driving through Mordor for the first time could be quite intimidating and scary for most people. For me it was like the new world. People everywhere, but each one of them enjoying themselves like they wanted to. No rules, no curfew, no suburban walls and no city lights.

Oppikoppi was the first time I was exposed to more than Afrikaans tannies who flinch everytime you say ‘flip’. It was the first time I could really let go and realise how much fun you really can have in one weekend. It was the first time I could break away from pretending to be a well-mannered, well-spoken meisie who does not know what Die Antwoord is or what they want from you.

Not that being well-mannered is a bad thing, but I learned that it’s good to let yourself go from time to time.

I downed my first Black Label that night and I never had a full bottle of beer again.

I saw my now-boyfriend there for the first time.

There were fairy lights illuminating the floating dust between the thorns of the acacias against the clear night sky.

There were drunk people bumping into me singing loudly to some Fokof song.

The smell of ten different food stalls hung in the air.

And everything seemed all right. More than all right, it was the real world.

And that night the world tipped its hat to me and said, “Welcome, dear. And goodnight.”

Look at some of the photos from my first Oppikoppi in 2010 – Sexy Crooked Teeth.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

PS: I also learned that not showering for a weekend is also okay. People will still accept you and maybe love you.

Categories: Blog Post, Photos, Photos, Writing