Feel it, It's here!

Prologue to Blog 29.

“Roughly three feet long, the vuvuzela sounds like the elephant trunk it resembles when blown solo. But when blown en masse, as is custom wherever soccer is played in South Africa, it's like a deafening swarm of locusts -- louder than a rock concert, according to one study, but shy of the human threshold for pain.” The Washington Post (which is so much better than the New York Times when it comes to sports coverage, breaking coverage, relevant matters…..well actually everything, it’s just straight up better in pretty much every department, but the times is still pretty good) states in a newly released article covering the dominance of the vuvuzela over sport, culture, sports culture, and culture sport.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/06/05/AR2010060503926.html

When you are watching the world cup games and you hear something that makes you ask, “What the hell is that noise?” then bam you are currently hearing the vuvuzelas in action.

Now on to blog 29.

Yes feel it baby it’s here! The McDonald’s countdown clock located in every McDonald’s in South Africa is currently at 6 days, 17 hours, and 43 seconds….42 seconds…. 41 seconds…. As I write this. The fever has gripped the nation and symptoms may include wearing bootleg knock off yellow and green Bafana Bafana (South African National Team name, literal translation in Zulu: Boys Boys) jerseys, blowing horns, organized dances in the streets, spontaneously breaking out into song and dance and drumming circles, crossing the road without looking, screaming “Ayoba” and screaming nonsense for no reason in general, screaming “Welcome to South Africa” to every single foreigner that they see, pulling their eyes and stretching them out after seeing an Asian person (not cool man), and hawking at every person that is deemed to be a foreigner and harass them into buying some bad cheaply made stuff, and justifying the price they are selling it at, because it’s African. Currently there is no cure for this fever. Rumor has it the cure will be found sometime after the 11^th of July 2010. Taking in all the sights, all the sounds that the World Cup has brought as I walk around some of the host cities, I caught the fever too, and bought a knock off Bafana Bafana jersey that I haggled down from R300 to R120, not realizing that I already own one. Hey bad cheaply made stuff is for sale you didn’t hear? This place is so feverish from the World Cup that local radio stations even gives you minute to minute updates that goes something like this, “You just heard the song ‘Telephone’ by Lady Gaga and Beyonce, and currently we are getting news that the Danish national team has landed in OR Tambo International Airport. Denmark will have their base camp set up in Knynsa on the coast along the South Africa’s beautiful Garden route. Make sure you welcome the Danish with open arms. Best of luck to you Denmark and hope you enjoy your stay here in South Africa.” I wonder how many other teams are coming in soon but I can’t think because of that freaking noise!

Dude what is that sound? You know that sound that is currently making us both go deaf leaving us in a state in which hearing can no longer be depended on in gaining a sense of direction. No, Not that crazy buzzing horn noise you call the vuvuzela, I’m immune to that sound with people in my village blowing the horn every day, all day, regardless if there is an actual soccer game being played. Imagine this situation, there is no soccer game being played. Nothing even remotely close to soccer is happening, I mean not even news of another player having sex with another teammate’s girlfriend causing that teammate to quit the national team, while the person who committed the man law infraction (clearly Rule #82 states, do not have sex with a teammates partner that may lead to that player quitting the national team and throwing the national team into disarray. You are a horny jerk but that does not mean you are allowed to jeopardize the nation’s chances for glory.) himself has 2 children (hah, those crazy Englishmen) is being broadcasted. Nothing, just a quiet day, and then BUUUHHH (I really cannot capture the sound of it in onomatopoeia form, you really do have to hear its noise of terror for yourself) to the pitch of B-flat comes out of nowhere and you panic because you swear a swarm of bees or elephant is coming at you. But it’s not a swarm of bees it’s the freaking vuvuzela! Okay thanks sir we get it your blatantly obnoxious, blow your horn for another 3 hours straight as a reward. Great, just great. Don’t imagine a situation in which there is an actual soccer game being played, your head might explode. As the days creep closer and closer the vuvuzela can be heard with much more frequency with people throughout my township and throughout the cities having vuvuzela battles to see who can blow theirs the loudest. Fun stuff…..

No, not the crazy buzzing horn sound that is probably making you go deaf, not me, but a different sound. What is it? Oh wait I can hear it….. OLE OLEEEEEE OLE OLE OLE OLE OLEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Ahhhhh the Argentines have arrived in Pretoria! The Argentine national team has set up base camp in the South African capital and Argentine fans donning the blue and white have taken over the city in a fashion South Africans have never experienced before. Yeah I can’t understand what they’re singing or saying either despite the fact that I studied the language for 3 years in high school. I guess the movie “The 40 year Old Virgin” was on to something in that if you don’t use it you lose it, at least when it comes to language.

An actual conversation between an Argentine man and me

Guy: Hola Como estas? (Hello, how are you in Spanish, at least I think)

Me: Je vais tres bien (I’m very well, in French), wait I mean, Ngikhona (I’m fine, in zulu) wait…..Yo soy bien?

Guy: Jajajajaja. Me llamo Diego, Como te llamas? (hahaha, my name is Diego, what is your name?, in Spanish, at least I think)

Me: Me llamo Alex, uhhh so your name is Diego like Diego Maradonna? (national team coach of Argentina, arguably the greatest soccer player to ever live, and living legend)

Diego: Si. (yes in Spanish, at least I think)

Me: So, uhhh, do you think Diego Maradonna, umm ah man my Spanish sucks, ummm Diego Maradonna es loco en la cabeza? (Something Spanish about Maradonna being crazy or something. How crazy is crazy? Let’s just say after Argentina barely qualified for the World Cup after a late goal in their last qualifying game, Maradonna poked his head out of the window of the bus opened his mouth and put his hand up to it and made a gesture indicating that the media who attended the match should suck his C%$# for doubting him as coach and then gave them the finger as the bus drove off. Not only did he not apologize [which is badass], he later then promised the fans that if Argentina won the World Cup he would run naked in the streets of Buenos Aires.)

Diego: (something super crazy Spanish that I have no hope in ever understanding even if I did have a full grasp of the Spanish language. From what I gathered, I think he was trying to say, yeah he’s crazy but that’s why he’s awesome! I would agree with this statement if that indeed was what he was trying to say.)

Me: uhhhhhhh, lo siento, No hablo Espanol. (Sorry I don’t speak Spanish in Spanish, at least I think) Do you want to see who can scream “Goooooaaal” the longest? (That last bit actually did not happen.)

He then proceeded to end the conversation by dancing with every person on the street that could be seen, including 230 pound gogos/grandmas. Did I say including? I meant especially. No doubt the party is on in the “City of Champions” (did Pretoria label themselves as that for no reason or is there a reason behind this, because there are signs everywhere that say “Welcome to the City of Champions”. Because let’s face it, that’s a bit presumptuous.)

Soon after I was approached by 2 blonde girls wearing orange attire.

G: (Something crazy language I do not understand at all)

Me: Umm.. Sorry I don’t understand what you are saying.

G: Oh sorry! we’re from Holland. I see you’re not from there.

Me: (The Netherlands eh? Shouldn’t you be riding a bicycle or something? And why in the world would you think I was from….. Ohhhh because I’m wearing an orange [national team color of the Netherlands] shirt. Never mind that it says “BeerLao” [the official beer of the country Laos] on it.) Ohhh, no sorry I’m not from there, but I think you have one of the best chances to win. You have a really dynamic team it looks like.

G: We are so excited, I’m pretty sure we’ll do really well, but the injury to Arjen Robben kinds of scares us, where are you from then?

Me: (Whoa these ladies are legit fans.) I’m from Washington D.C.

(Small talk and generalized conversations including what we were doing in South Africa, where, and how long we were staying ensued. We soon parted ways and wished each other luck because apparently by their statements, the U.S. national team was going to need it.)

The next day when I was eating breakfast at a backpackers in Pretoria I met a “China” (as we Asians are

constantly referred to as in South Africa) who was from Japan so technically he is not a China he is a Japan.

Me: Yeah I live here in South Africa, work for an organization called the Peace Corps from the U.S. I work in a village doing HIV/AIDS education outreach.

Japan: Ahhhh wooooow. That’s great. I’m from Japan. I’m a professional photographer and work for a German based magazine in Tokyo. I’m here to take pictures of the world cup games and teams.

Me: Wow, how many games are you going to?

Japan: At least 15 including the semi-finals in Cape Town and the final game in Johannesburg.

Me: Holy $h!t. Do you have to pay for everything yourself or do you get paid?

Japan: I only have to pay for my own food and camera equipment. Everything else is already paid for including access to teams, games, accommodation, and transportation.

Me: (Uhhhhh, Holy #@#$!!!! Why the hell did I not become a professional photographer?)

(Small talk and generalized conversations including how much his camera equipment cost [$20,000], his favorite event he ever covered [2005 Champions League semi-final, Arsenal v Juventus], what it was like during the Confederations Cup last year, Japan not being so strong this year, and expectations of the World Cup this year. As I was checking out of the backpackers he bowed his head and with both hands gave me his business card and said if I ever wanted photos just to ask him. And you know what I just might.)

The atmosphere in South Africa is absolutely electric and this place is World Cupped out right from the get go. When fans step out of OR Tambo International Airport and begin their drive to Johannesburg the highway is lined with thousands of the 32 teams that are participating in the World Cup. For nearly 5km these flags continue to fans that seemingly say to fans all over the world, “The World Cup? Trust me, it’s on”. In the cities there are banners that range from “Welcome to South Africa” to more individualized welcome banners “Welcome England” or as above “Welcome to the City of Champions”. Those that claim that South Africa is not ready for the World Cup should see it for themselves.

It seems just as the 1995 Rugby World Cup brought much to South Africa, it seems the 2010 FIFA World Cup will bring much to South Africa and further the country’s development (at least in some respects, next post will deal with issues surrounding the world cup) and not just economically but perhaps socially and culturally as well. In the lead up to the games I have had many conversations with fans from all over the world and got to hear stories of patriotism, triumph, beauty, learning, and adventure. I can only imagine how many South Africans are getting to interact, talk, and mingle with people from different nations and share their culture with them. The World Cup is not just about soccer; it’s not just about sport. The World Cup is also a festival of culture where people can not only enjoy the beautiful game but also learn about each other. World Cup fans all over the globe are coming together over a simple common bond, proving that the culture and language of sport is universal and there are few things in this world that can bring people together like it can.

I feel both honored and privileged to be able to be here for such a historical moment, Africa’s first ever World Cup. This is an event that many believed would never be held on African soil. As one of the principals of my school put it, “Sibusiso (my South African name), I cannot even begin to tell you how much the World Cup being here means to this country. To be able to go from having no rights, no freedom, no education, no opportunities, much less watching soccer game, to holding such a historical event that many thought we would not see in our lifetime, it means so much. Now people can see how we have progressed from the hopelessness to triumph.”

From poverty/disease/lack of development to corruption and Apartheid, no one ever thought that this could ever be a reality. But the people here in South Africa, whites, blacks, Asians alike take to the streets proudly wearing the green and yellow to sing, dance, blow vuvuzelas, and to make the dream a reality. The World’s game has come to them and as thousands of people flock to South Africa from all over the world it seems South Africans are saying, “We still have a long way to go, but look how far we’ve come.” Indeed, South Africa, the world is looking.