Somewhere in a river valley a hippopotamus sits on the river bank and looks
at the slowly drifting water. The hippopotamus is satisfied with himself and
his little world, enjoys his corpulent stoutness and doesn't love anything
more than swimming. Then a race horse appears, fast and agile, full of the
spirit of freedom, vain and well groomed. And - it can dance! An argument
breaks out over which of them is the real hippo. Doubts appear about themselves.
Both start to try to be as the other seems to be, even though it hurts and
demands sacrifice. They give up their former existences. The hippopotamus
wants to be slim and able to dance, the racing horse wants to be big and plump,
and to be able to drift in the water like a cork.
A little story about "being myself" and "being different"
and about self doubts.