Andrew McFall
The first incarnation of Bunny Chow came and went in five months in 1997. At irregular intervals a candy-coloured sheet of social commentary, architecture, reviews and interviews would punctuate your mind with the definitive full stop. Then it disappeared, leaving hordes of Durbanites looking round in bewilderment. Nine issues of thoughts and words emerged, with some of us only realising its true value once it had left the scene.
Unlike the Stone Roses, who kept fans waiting for five years for a new album, Bunny Chow was resurrected after only two. By now, the first wave of Bunny Chow in ”new, improved” format will have infiltrated into a consciousness near you. It is available free from 50 selected outlets (music and clothing shops, restaurants, and other public spaces) in and around Durban. A complete list of the distributors of the print copy, and a fully electrified version of Bunny Chow, are accessible at the cyberhutch: www.bunnychow.com.
The Bunny Chow format has mutated from a double-sided A3 sheet of card into a sleek new eight-page full-colour mini-tome. This extra space now houses pieces on poet Lesego Rampolokeng, advocate Jenny Wild’s insight into the fake crack cocaine industry, the Dalai Lama and the recent Festival of Living Treasures at Shongweni. A Durban entertainment guide of interesting and fly things to do on fuzzy, warm West Street rounds out the Bunny Chow’s nourishing read.
In the words of its instigators, Bunny Chow is ”a trashy mag”, and ”[soul] food for the mind”. Above all – and this is important – ”it’s all good”. Read it and prepare yourself for the subtle shift in the ways you view your surroundings, and your appraisal of where you are in this town.