So, do you work?

"So, do you work?" I have been thinking about this question over the last few days, since I attended a function with my husband. I usually brace myself for that question and wonder how I could answer it without appearing defensive. What exactly does work mean? If you do not have a paying job does that mean you do not work? Does that mean you are "living a life of luxury"? If you answer "No" does that mean the end of the conversation as you must be a "housewife" and therefore can have no meaningful contribution to the conversation or to society?

Answering no, does usually close off a conversation - doing voluntary work doesn't seem to count (since it does not involve money or climbing the corporate ladder) and seems to be regarded as not needing a commitment and therefore not important. Running a home and being a mother, supporting your husband's career, seems to be viewed with negativity. I am not sure if this is a SA viewpoint or a general global viewpoint. If you asked me if I was a feminist I would say yes - I believe in women's rights, in equality for women socially and culturally. But I think that people lose sight of the fact that the Feminist movement was about having the choice - the choice to stay at home with your kids or not, the choice to be single or married, the choice to build a career or not...

As a woman with a degree from a prestigious university and who worked in her career for a number of years, I feel fortunate to have been in the situation where I could choose to be a mother and "retire" from my previous career. And being a mother has certainly encompassed all the skills I learned at university and while working. What I did not know, I learned from workshops, books and from peers. On the job training is what is about; talk about immersion therapy! Certainly the hours have paid off and I have been well-rewarded along the way.

A friend joked that I could be the CEO of a "business" involving my role as mother. As they have grown older and spend more time at school and with other extra-mural activities, it seems that I have taken on the role of Personal Assistant. In many ways they need me less but even when they are not with me, I am planning and organising. I have to set time aside to do "admin" - plan schedules, make appointments, follow-up school-related issues. Recently, I have felt that I can start to reclaim my independence and start doing the things that I have put on hold.

But, yes, I have been working. Just not getting paid in hard currency.

Thank you, Madiba, and Happy Birthday

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, 

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, 

Or being hated don't give way to hating, 

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, 

Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch, 

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, 

If all men count with you, but none too much: 

If you can fill the unforgiving minute 

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, 

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, 

And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son.

Yesterday Madiba turned 92 - every extra day that we have him seems like a blessing, since he has lived such a long and difficult life. He is the first person that I think about when I read Rudyard Kipling's poem. It seems like there are very few people who measure up to this standard and Madiba certainly is a living example of many of the sentiments expressed in the poem.

Qunu in the Eastern Cape, Madiba's birthplace

I have been fortunate to meet Madiba on more than one occasion and a few things stand out. One is his ability to make you feel like you are the most important person in the world. We have been at a conference where Madiba has kept international delegates waiting because the kitchen staff have been lined up for ages to catch a glimpse of him and he has not wanted to disappoint them.

Another is his love for children. When he accepted the tribute that the World's Children's Prize had bestowed on him, his message to the children was that he would support them whether he was "alive or in the grave" and I have no doubt that that will indeed be so.

But one of his greatest gifts to us is his ability to forgive. His ability to sit down to tea or share podiums and stages with his former oppressors and jailers, is something that I, as an ordinary human being, find hard to conceive of. 

Since time immemorial, humans have searched for heroes. But the power of the hero is not as an idol that is unreachable or untouchable but as an inspiration to us to be the best that we can be, to raise us up. I hope that Madiba's spirit will be around to guide us for a long time yet. 

Google it!

My son has been doing some research for an oral. The brief is to prepare an oral about someone who has made a significant change to the course of history in a particular field. He has chosen Larry Page and Sergei Brin, the founders of Google. I was not quite sure that I would have used such strong language regarding their achievements, but as he has progressed with his oral, I have had a rethink.

Google has revolutionised the way ordinary people have access to knowledge. If you are able to read and write and have access to a computer, there is an open door to learning about almost any subject in the world.

What has impressed my son (apart from the billions of dollars that these two young men have made) is that they seem to have their feet firmly on the ground. They each drive the environmentally -friendly Toyota Prius (as a budding greenie this is a big plus in his eyes) and they have created a very "cool" work environment for their staff. Special mention to be given by him about the weekly roller-hockey games in the car park!

As someone born in the "old days", as my kids call it, I have had to make a conscious effort to become technologically-competent. It amazes me how different their response to research is to mine. My first instinct is to look it up in a book or ask someone. They know everything (and they really do know more than us) at a touch of a button. A while back, I wanted the lyrics to a particular song and my daughter not only down-loaded the song but presented me with a print-out of the lyrics.

"In my day", I remember sitting with a tape recorder hitting pause, rewind and play in an effort to scribble down the lyrics of a song! I certainly have learned much from them - look at me now - email, Google, Face Book, Blogging ... the web is my oyster! Although I still have to shout for help and suffer the rolling eyes every now and then. It feels good to know that with all the privilege they enjoy, they are still able to look for the quallities that make people like the Google-geniuses, real heroes.

War minus the shooting

George Orwell said that "Serious sport is war minus the shooting." I couldn't help thinking that, in some instances, the soccer World Cup was like a war of the world - there were the different countries competing against each other, the rallying of supporters, the "war-paint", the battle-cries and the "uniforms".

The soccer World Cup mobilises the largest number of people in the world. Apart from the more than 3 million who packed into the fan parks and stadiums, there was about a billion more watching on television or listening to the commentary on radio. Certainly, it celebrates national identity - never before have so many people in this country waved the flag in a celebration of national pride.

During apartheid even the sport was divided and soccer, which was seen as largely a Black person's game, suffered from the isolation and lost opportunities to play on an international level. Now we have experienced first-hand how unifying and mobilising the game can be. Unifying and mobilising across the artificial borders of class, race, religion, age and sex.

Imagine if this gathering together from all corners of the world, could satisfy the need for war. We would have referees to ensure fair play. The spectators would be there to bear witness to what had been done in their name. Everyone would celebrate the victors and leave satisfied that they had done their best, until next time. I can dream, can't I?

A Job Well Done

It was back to school, back to reality, today. This World Cup which has taken up so much time and energy has come to a glorious end with fireworks and the surprise bonus of an appearance by Madiba, all wrapped up in furs against the Highveld winter. 

Going about my errands today I bumped into people who I haven't seen since before the tournament started.  It was an affirmation of all that I have been feeling. Fellow-South Africans are proud of what we have achieved. The general feeling seems to be that we did a good job.

I have always thought that in South Africa we live from one extreme to the other. We are either ecstatic about sporting achievements or down in the dumps about whether we can live up to the promise of 1994. We don't seem to be able to find the middle ground. We celebrate  because we have thrown off the heavy mantle of apartheid and then we descend into depression because we think we cannot handle concrete issues like crime and transport.

Perhaps we are too hard on ourselves so that we don't get disappointed. Then we cannot believe that we have actually managed to make a success of something. Maybe it is a legacy of living through oppression and injustice that has dealt such a blow to our confidence that we need to work at believing in our ability to be great.

I think the World Cup has gone further than we could ever hope to restoring some of that spirit. It has given us the opportunity to shine with the whole world watching. And we did it waving our flag - proudly South African. But beyond that we have emerged proudly African, part of the entire continent. Now we just need to hold onto that and keep moving forward. Amandla!

Yo soy Espanol!

Yo soy Espanol! Yo soy Espanol! 

I am Spanish - or I was on Wednesday, anyway, when we beat Germany and booked a seat in the final. It felt good to win for a change. We sat in the midst of a group of enthusiastic Spanish supporters from Madrid and sang and chanted along.

I have this on-going love affair with all things Spanish, and they were always my favourite team to win the World Cup. So decked out in red and yellow, we made our way to the Moses Mabhida stadium in Durban. And we were not disappointed. The image of the well-oiled German machine that advanced on Argentina the week before, was not evident. The team seemed somewhat lost and not able to play the same kind of soccer that Spain was playing. It certainly felt good to be singing and dancing to the Waka Waka song afterwards along with everyone else who seemed reluctant to leave the stadium and go back to the real world.

And now there are four teams left and a by the end of tomorrow we would have handed over the baton to Brazil. It has been an incredible journey, not only for soccer, but for the country as a whole. We have done a good job. 

The Love of the Game

I didn't know I cared so much. About the soccer, I mean. Yesterday I felt completely shattered after the Germans demolished Argentina. I think I felt it more intensely as I watched my son become smaller and smaller as he sank into his seat with every ball that thundered into the goals. I was also still trying to recover from Ghana's loss the night before - it really was a loss for the whole continent. 

I'm not sure how I feel about Uruguay at the moment - my brain tells me they are also the underdogs and deserve to win, but I want to punish them for kicking "us" out. I started out the World Cup with this hierarchy of support - first and foremost, Bafana Bafana. All of us knew that we stood slim chance of making it through the first rounds - but sentiment carried us along and filled the nation with pride. After SA, I supported any African team to be playing, then a South American team (the south-south connection) and then Spain.

On Friday we climbed onto a little 12-seater plane with two Netherlands supporters to fly down to Port Elizabeth to watch Netherlands against Brazil. It hadn't been in the plan, but when my husband heard who was playing, he quickly made a plan. I sat in a sea of orange, green and gold; grown-up men dressed as giant orange balls walked by, followed by an orange wig wearing an orange bathrobe. Behind me drums beat out the rhythm of the samba. After a hesitant start, the Netherlands showed the samba kings a few steps of their own. The crowd was stunned and sms'es flowed between us and friends in all parts of the world, as they tried to come to terms with the loss...another major upset for this World Cup which will surely be known for upsets.

I didn't have much emotion invested in the game in the afternoon, but Ghana vs Uruguay was a different story. Last night I felt completely spent and had nothing to give Spain or Paraguay. I thought I would have an early night but was drawn to the televison like a moth to a flame. I couldn't help thinking that it didn't matter who won because the Germans would be waiting like a well-oiled machine to take them out 4-something!

This morning the sun is shining and it is a beautiful sunny winter's day in Cape Town. Three short weeks ago, 32 teams converged on our country to do "battle", now there are four left. There have been highs and lows, tears and laughter, but the greatest gift has to be the national pride and the knowledge that we could pull it off. I will gather myself and enjoy the soccer that is still to be played for the love of the game itself. There's always 2014!

Soccer - still feeling the gees!

720 minutes - that's how much live soccer I have watched since the World Cup began! 

That's not counting the extra time or the travelling to and from stadiums, or to another city. And then I have also watched the games on television and spent time doing "soccer" shopping for the kids - supporters' caps, flags and T-shirts. Then there has been the poster up on my son's wall to record the results and speculate about the progress. Plus all the talking about the games and the behaviour on and off the pitch...There's also the visitors who have popped up from Australia, the US and Sweden, who we are entertaining. 

I would never have believed that it could be so consuming. It has been refreshing, though to see how other sports have made way for soccer in the media. So many people play the game but it has always been relegated to the news after rugby or cricket. 

There are already positive ripples in the tourism industry. I read in news that we normally have about 300 visitors from Mexico in a normal year but over this period we have around 15 000! If a fraction of them come back to visit we would have thousands more than usual. Hopefully that applies to all the other soccer tourists here at the moment and we will reap the benefits of a boost to the economy. Some restaurants are complaining that they are not as busy as usual, or as they expected to be, during this period. I wonder if locals are staying away from the hot-spots, like the Waterfront in Cape Town, as they fear that it will be too busy.

So now we are gearing up for the quarter and semi-finals in the next week. all of them are promising to be interesting, especially with the upsets that have happened so far: Italy and France have already made the journey home. I am starting to feel like a child when the holiday has been so good and you don't want it to end and go back to school. I hope we can hold on to the gees just a little bit longer!