Spanish anyone?

I am blogging to avoid doing my Spanish homework. I have been listening to some audio exercises and wondering whether it is actually possible to learn a new language without immersion. I am slowly entertaining the thought that I should gracefully depart from the class. Perhaps my brain is too slow for Spanish - why do they have to talk so fast? Do we speak English at the same speed? I can make out some words and understand the gist of the conversation but then I get lost on the specifics. If I have to say so, I am not bad with reading and writing but conversation makes my palms sweat and my heart race. 

Why am I learning Spanish? I always wanted to learn a foreign language and presumed that it might be French since half of Africa speaks French. But I fell in love with the Latin energy on a visit to Cuba via Madrid a few years ago. It was April, spring time in Madrid. Everywhere you could smell the new beginnings in the air, everybody was waking up from a long winter. Couples of all ages were spilling onto the pavements to sit and chat and drink coffee. I liked the European-Moorish mix that was evident in the city, in the art, architecture and even in the food. We spent a few days exploring on foot, the many plazas, the markets and the museum, taking a break in quaint cafes and restaurants. 

Cuba was a total onslaught of the senses - the people, the music, the food spoke of passion. Women in sexy, brightly-coloured clothes, sashayed down the streets of Havana to the rhythm of the salsa, girls looking like brides, celebrated their 15th birthdays, boys played baseball wherever there was an open space.  The joy of having survived a hurricane was tangible. Young couples were courting along the Malecon, parts of it recently rebuilt after Katrina.  There was a "devil-may-care" attitude born of the knowledge that at anytime a storm could wash away your home, your life. 

On our return, I decided that Spanish was the language I needed to learn because I was definitely going back to Spain and Cuba someday. Before I knew it, I had found a teacher and opened a door to a new culture and history. I have become more aware of Spanish movies, food, soccer and, of course, Rafael Nadal. I love learning Spanish most of the time but I have been tempted to throw the book at the teacher, on occasion. I revelled in the Spanish victory in the World Cup as if I were Spanish myself, and renewed my determination to learn the language.

There are many benefits to learning a new language - meeting new people, eating different food, trying  a dance class (although I have discovered that I have two left feet in any language!), apparently keeping Alzheimer's at bay. It's a great ice-breaker when you meet a native-speaker and you just seem to be a little more interesting when you say you can speak another language. Oh well, back to the homework!

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!

Rest In peace Michael, King of Pop

We have been so immersed in the World Cup that I almost missed the first anniversary celebration of Michael Jackson's death yesterday. I clearly remember where I was when we heard the news. We were in Johannesburg for the Confederations Cup (believe it or not, I'm not always this immersed in soccer) when we walked into our hotel room and switched on the TV.

Michael Jackson was quite an inspiration when we were young. He was an amazing musician and performer and kept churning out the hits, earning the nickname, King of Pop. Here was living proof that you could be black and famous. And there was a whole family of Jacksons too. We pretty much spent our teen years to the background sounds of Billie Jean, Rock with You, Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough, and the like.

I found Michael Jackson's transformation very sad - after singing that it didn't matter if you were Black or White, and almost getting us to believe it, he seemed to have second thoughts. Like young girls who are bombarded by images of size 0 models and become anorexic, he was brainwashed into thinking that his hair had to be sleek enough for a pencil to slip through and his nose had to look like he'd slept with a peg on it. I'm not sure that we will ever learn to accept ourselves and each other, just the way we are or learn to respect and celebrate the differences?

I hope that he has found some peace, somewhere.

For a list of Michael Jackson songs, click here.

Soccer - The Beautiful Game

I am so proudly South African at the moment. I feel like I have waited a lifetime to experience the patriotism around me. I have to restrain myself every time I see a flag-bedecked car pass by. We were only included in the line-up because we were the host country, but our team went out with a bang, not a whimper. They conducted themselves with dignity and made the nation proud. I am sure that the way the crowd sang the national anthem with hands over their hearts, the sound of the vuvuzelas and the waving flags spurred them on to achieve beyond expectations. We deserved to beat France. 

I want to savour every minute of this World Cup period. There is something tangibly different in the air at the moment - an energy, a vibe, a rhythm to the city and the people that speaks of hope and passion and loyalty. I wish we could burn the moment into our memory and carry this time with us. Now more than any other time since 1994, I feel what it is we were fighting for. I want my children to soak this up into their pores and hold their heads up high, because they are South African. And soccer did this - no wonder they call it The Beautiful Game.

I have been so inspired that, when the rest of my family went up to Durban for the night for the Portugal vs Brazil match (I have my limits!), I sat down to figure out how to set up this blog. Being the techno-phobe that I am, I am almost as proud of myself as of our team!

Bafana Bafana may be out of the competition but we have pulled together to stage a world-class event. South Africa welcomes you!