By: Tayfun Balçik

Ding dong. High visit at the door. It's not just anyone passing by, but the one and only Aminata Cairo! You know, the psychologist of the country who philosophizes and conducts research into 'Holding Space'. And now she is literally going to 'claim space' in my own home in Amsterdam Nieuw-West, hello! 

Yes, I find it a bit exciting. And not just because of the work stress. I always have this when someone comes, of whom unfortunately historically and culturally it is not so obvious that someone knocks on my door. In other words: with Fatih and Ahmet I am not at all sensitive about the state of the house, I am not pacing. A handshake and then it's just self-service for everyone. 

But now it is 'different' and I feel tension in my body. I've learned to say that instead of hitting one blunder after another. Out of my system with that thing, a ‘check-in’, as it's called these days. It is not a weakness to talk about your physical condition. How am I? “Yes, a little anxious, because of the busyness and dizziness,” I say in disguised terms and referring to my lousy vestibular system, which she knows about. "Oh," says Cairo and continues to the living room. 

Exactly five years ago I met her for the first time. And how! She ruthlessly addressed white Dutch people as a panelist in a Q&A about the documentary White is also a color by Sunny Bergman. 'It's not going to be gezellig', she said with great authority and summed up the entire debate about diversity in the Netherlands with that one sentence. Cairo laughs a lot, but racism is no joke. 

Her speech at Nelson Mandel Park during the Black Lives Matter protests hit the spot. Let's go back to those wise words from back then: ' So when we talk about police brutality, about racism and what this does to people, it's nothing new. I am glad that people all over the world are standing up, that new people are joining. For some this is new. I don't care if you joined last week, or five hours ago, or five minutes. I'm glad you're here because it's time.' 

It's still time. And that is why she is in New West. We're going to change course and talk about fatherhood and men's safe spaces. And just as we were getting going, the doorbell rang again. Ah, my mother. To make my clean house even cleaner! Of course she is already Dutch enough to ask for an increasingly large volunteer fee for that. Support for the community! 

Although she leaves us alone and gives us our space, her input cannot be missed in this conversation. Aminata Cairo and my mother talking to each other. I love it, I enjoy it. And I translate the conversation. I think they both found it a little awkward, but it soon loosened up. Multiple perspectives to sharpen our questions about fatherhood, women and men. “Okay, can I get up now?” she asks. We let go of my mother and we walk around the neighborhood again. 

Cairo does not really know Geuzenveld. That is not so strange. Only people from Geuzenveld know Geuzenveld. Even as a New Westerner I used to laugh about it. Of course we also talk about the Bijlmer and about the culture shock when I first visited Kraaiennest. That was the moment for me that I realized that Nieuw-West can have that effect on outsiders. 

Then Cairo had to leave again. She did that by bike, all the way to Duivendrecht! Phew, what a diehard. A few days later, I realize that she bears the same name of another Surinamese person who made a crushing impression on me. The poet Edgar Cairo! I go straight to YouTube and start watching like a man possessed. A documentary from 1980 in Amsterdam. Shit, that guy was good! 

The next morning I put the video back on. Now for my mother. I translate again. "It's a pity they didn't feel that whip. Because then you start screaming', he says ambiguously in a play. 

Do you know 'that Surinamese woman from last time', I tell my mother and continue, 'She is also called Cairo. Shall I ask her if they are related? Or is it just as stupid to ask a Turk named Yilmaz if he is related to the millions of other Yilmazs in Turkey?' 

I made my mom laugh again.