World Cup 2010...through my eyes and ears...

I joke that prior to us coming to South Africa, I didn't really know what the World Cup was. In all honesty, I really didn't. I knew it had something to do with soccer, but I never watched it, never had a desire to watch it and never knew anyone else with a desire to watch it. However, when we discovered we were moving to SA, many people seemed excited at the fact that we would be living in SA during the World Cup 2010. I'm sure you know that was the main reason I agreed to come here. (HA!)

Once we arrived, it was clear that the country of South Africa was more than excited to host the World Cup 2010. Over this past year, I have watched a country scramble to prepare for what is apparently a huge deal to many people in the world: the World Cup. A subway system (partially completed), tons of road construction, building of new hotels, revamping and construction of stadiums and much crafting of World Cup souvenirs by the locals. Now that it is finally here, it is safe to say that the crafting of World Cup souvenirs by the locals was indeed accomplished. As for the other preparations? Mmm...not so much.

Over the past couple weeks the intensity of the excitement has certainly increased. I began to awaken to the sound of vuvuzulas (loud obnoxious horns- if you watch a soccer game on TV you will know what I am talking about!) ringing out from my neighbor's homes. And these horns only continued to sound out throughout the course of the day...over and over and over again. Locals lined the streets with their handmade crafts and oodles of flags for sale. Evidence of road construction was disguised and a meager attempt was made to clean up the litter lined streets.

Suddenly, Friday, June 11 arrived...the day of the opening game to be played at 4:30pm. The company Ben is working with in SA allowed all of their employees to leave work at 1pm in order to get home in time to watch the game. However, Ben and his BV employees held to the American standard and were not allowed to leave work early. Such hard workers!

With Bafana Bafana (the SA team) playing in the opening match, you can imagine the exhilaration taking place throughout the country. Ben even heard those vuvuzulas being blown around the office! And I don't think a minute passed in our neighborhood without the sound of that horn. When 4:30pm rolled around, I, being a good wife, watched the game with Ben from our living room (he and his coworkers managed to get out of the office in time). Proudly for SA, they can say they scored the very first goal of the World Cup 2010...and they did not lose that game (they tied Mexico). It was a very proud moment for South Africa and you could see the joy written all over their faces.

Then it was June 12... the day of the USA vs. England match in Rustenburg. One of the two games to which we we had tickets. I had been dreading this day for a few reasons. 1- the game did not start until 8:30pm, 2- it was being played in a tiny town three hours away from our SA residence, 3- what if there was a terrorist attack?, 4- I AM PREGNANT, 5- my Dad personally feared a stampede of fans knocking me over, 6- what about food? would there be any? would there be enough!?, 7- we arranged to ride a bus. would the bus be safe? 8- in the week leading up to the game, I was sick. and on the dawn of our game day, I was still sick. would I just become more sick? 9- I pee like crazy right now. for a 3 hour bus ride and a crazy game...how would my bladder survive? Ben did his best to settle my fears, assuring me there would be food, he would protect me and it would be fun, a "once in a lifetime experience." So, I sucked it up and attended the game...for the love of my husband and no other reason.

I did not get myself a US jersey. Instead, I wore a $5 Old Navy 4th of July t-shirt. I figured that was just as American as anything else I could have worn! And it cost a LOT less. We drove with the Gaspers to the meeting point for the buses and were greeted by the first taste of chaos that is soccer. We waded through the throngs of people to reach the meeting point, receiving shouts and hollers from fellow Americans...and not so Americans. It was quite amazing to see how serious people are about dressing up for the games. People were wearing flags, painting their faces, sporting tall Uncle Sam style hats, red and white striped pants, you name it. A maz ing. Even Kelly was decked out! And I'll admit...I did feel a little under dressed! I must admit, it was a little fun people watching. It was certainly fun to see the extent to which people would go to dress up for this game! And I definitely admire Kelly. She rocks!

We boarded the buses. I thought we would be riding the "short bus," reserved for people looking for a more quiet ride. However, we hopped onto one of the regular size buses. A party bus. For the first time in my life, I felt embarrassed to be an American as I watched our bus mates (AMERICANS!) yell profanity out the windows at people, flip people off and chug beer like water. It made me sick to my stomach to witness and I began to shield my belly, current home to our daughter. I did my best to stay positive, thinking that the 300 people on our buses are not all of America. And not every soccer fan is a drunken devil, right? We neared the stadium, driving along dirt roads lined with soccer fans and locals. The locals were beautiful to see as they jumped and cheered in excitement. Especially the kids. They were so cute! Cheering for the fans and the pride of their country as they host the World Cup. Sadly, our bus mates continued to shout and sing obscenities at anyone NOT dressed in American get up.

Our bus parked on a side street in a neighborhood near the stadium and we made the short walk to the MASS of people waiting to get into the stadium. At this time, baby and me were hungry for our dinner. But we somehow made it through the mass (let's be clear that there were NOT any lines to get into the stadium, just a crazy mass of people pushing their way through security). The first man we saw was selling ice cream. Ice cream can be tasty on a warm day, but it was sinking down into the 40s by this time of day and ice cream was not on my list of desirable foods. We stumbled upon a "fan shop" on our way to the food vendors and thought we'd quickly buy an American scarf. That was a joke! We waited over 30 minutes to discover they were out of scarves.

I must spend some time describing this fan shop. There were NO lines. It was simply a circle of tables surrounded by fans, the merchandise and employees standing in the center. We waited about 30 minutes to get someone's attention only to learn they were "out" of the items we hoped to purchase. Funny. In that 30 minutes I saw many employees tell customers they were out of a product...then I would walk to another angle of the table and see a box full of the product the person requested. HA! I don't think they were so much out of the products as they were too lazy to look through the unorganized mess of souvenirs. Now, I should have taken this as a hint of what was to come...

We followed my nose to the food. Again, it appeared to just be a mass of people pressing towards the cashiers. Ben and I knew there was no other choice, so we jumped on in. 30 minutes passed and we could almost see the front. Then 45 minutes, an hour. Someone pushed through the crowd in a wheelchair and I felt a man push me to the side. I quickly turned to him, stating "I AM PREGNANT. I AM NOT MOVING." He let it go, thankfully. An angry fan began to scream profanity at the workers after standing at the front for a crazy amount of time and not being served. He eventually got his food and pushed his way out.

We finally made it to the front, where I realized we were in between registers- one to the left and one to the right. I stood there trying to get the worker's attention, while slowly being pushed further and further forward to the point where I was basically standing in the mini kitchen where they prepare the food. I was close to just grabbing myself a hot dog. After another 30 minutes of standing and not being helped, I started to lose it. People were pushing around us and getting their food while we appeared to be invisible. Tears welled up in my eyes as one of the workers finally made eye contact with me. Only to push me backwards into the crowd, telling me I was too far into their work space. HA! People around began to notice I was on the verge of explosion, asking "what's wrong?" Ben shouted (my man!) "She's pregnant and hungry and you keep cutting us when we have been waiting for food!" I decided my time in line was done. I pushed through the crowd as a worker left for her break (HAHAHAHAHA, BREAK?????? SERIOUSLY????), following in her wake.

Eventually Ben emerged from the sea of people with the food: hot dogs and chips. Did I mention they were only serving beer, hot dogs, chips, soda and chocolate? Yeah. Not a lot of variety.

Fortunately we made it to our seats just in the nick of time to see the kick off at 8:30pm. (We arrived at the stadium at about 6pm.) The hot dogs? Not very good. But I needed food, so I ate up anyway and settled in to watch the game.

I was worried at first when people wouldn't sit down. I kept thinking "we paid for seats, so why are we standing??" Most people did take their seats after the first few minutes. I looked to the score board to check the time and details...only to find that the score boards were out of order. Oh my! Just another example of the lack of organization. (Although it did magically work for about 3 minutes...we got a pic!) So every few minutes I would turn to Ben and ask "what happened? what does that mean? why did he do that? what's going on??" I have a wonderfully patient husband who took the time to answer each of my questions. :)

Throughout the game, the profanity and drunkenness continued to transpire all around me. My ears were specifically in tune to crazed voices...I guess it was kind of like an emergency radar. And maybe a motherly instinct? I had to be aware just in case pandemonium broke out! To my left stood a crazy USA fan blowing a broken horn and chanting "USA!!" In front of him sat some England fans. Yup, you can imagine. Those England fans turned around during half time and gave that man a piece of their mind. I was very thankful no fight broke out.

The game wore on, with both the USA and England scoring one goal a piece. Much to my surprise, soccer is able to end in a tie! And such a blessing that was. I fear if either team had won, it would have been dangerous. Especially as I thought of our bus mates. If the USA had won, they would have taunted the English fans. If England had won, then the USA fans would have been crazy drunk mad. So I thank God for protecting us and ending that game in a tie!

As I mention God, I can't help remembering how dark the stadium felt in the sense of evil. When we boarded the bus, I continued to feel this overwhelming sense of sin and evil pressing around me. It was a scary feeling. People continued to drink and cuss, although many people were passed out, attempting to sleep off their drunkenness. Towards the front of the bus, I heard a woman's voice take on that scary high pitched tone. (You remember, I had my radar on!) She was trying to sell the rest of her World Cup tickets to someone. At first I didn't quite understand. But people began to yell at her and tell her to be quiet (they didn't say it that nicely!). A man appeared to be more vocal with her, arguing back and forth about how she earns money, won the tickets, etc. Eventually they quieted down and I tried again to relax.

After about 30 minutes, her shrill voice rang out as she cussed at the man. The man argued back. He was holding her phone captive and she was holding captive his passport. Now how on earth did that happen? I wondered. Their argument continued to escalate until even the people sleeping in a drunken stupor were awake. Everyone was tuned into the dispute. The woman began to scream "LET ME OFF THIS BUS! LET ME OFF! LET ME OFF NOWWWW!" A few people tried to intervene- only to receive a crazed tongue lashing from the woman. She screamed at the bus driver (poor guy!). We did have to stop to go through a toll booth and that's when the woman decided to make a break for it. She pushed the bus group leader out the door and tried to escape. Thankfully he pulled her back onto the bus. (In spite of her craziness, I was worried for her safety. She was drunk and not thinking clearly. If she got off that bus in her America attire in the middle of nowhere, she would have been hurt or even killed. And although she was crazy, she still deserves protection.) She continued to rant and rave about wanting off of the bus. It was at that moment, the man identified himself as her boyfriend. Well...former boyfriend at that point I am guessing?

I sat in my seat, head bowed, praying fervently to God for our safety and her safety. I knew God was protecting us and would continue to protect us and praise Jesus, she began to quiet down. Another 30 minutes passed before she again broke the silence. "Oops! Was that your passport!?" The woman smugly stated as she held her hand out the window, letting something drop. My oh my. The bus driver stopped the bus and pulled to the shoulder, backing up on the highway looking for the discarded item. (It was around 3am at this time). I continued to pray. It being so dark and windy, the passport was not located and the bus driver ceased the backwards driving and continued the trek back to the drop off point in Joburg. Hope that guy takes care of his passport situation...

The next 30 minutes felt like forever. But we finally made it back to Nelson Mandela square, where the Gaspers car was parked in a nearby parking garage. After driving to many closed exits, we finally found our way out of the garage...arriving home just after 4am.

What a day.

For those of you who know me, you know I am neither a fan of sports or alcohol. So you can imagine how I felt about this event! In my Dad's words, "well, it was an experience I guess." And thankfully I am alive and safe!

In respect to my Benny boo, I must add his two cents. He wants everyone to know that in spite of the craziness and all of the things I mentioned, he enjoyed the game. Everything in this blog is factual and I would like you to know that I did not exaggerate. I just happened to focus more on the crazy soccer fans than the game itself. Ben paid most attention to the game which is how he was able to explain the game to me. However, it was fun to spend time with Ben and see the game.

(Did I mention that our little lady was not very active throughout the day? I credit it to the fact that she was scared of all the noise and craziness around her. She says, "Sorry Uncle Chris. I don’t think I'm going to be a soccer fan!)

Just one more game to attend this Friday.