June 27 - Luxor

OK, not much happened today except that Joe and I flew from Cairo to Luxor first thing in the morning. Luxor is on the site of the ancient Egyptian capital of Thebes, and consequently houses some amazing monuments and burial sites. More on this in coming blogs.

Probably the only interesting thing about today was going over to a place near to Karnak Temple called the Genesis English Pub to watch England get bounced 4-1 by Germany and then later see Argentina dismiss Mexico 3-1. The Genesis Pub was just a strange place in general. The sign outside promised Drink! Dancing! Food! Swimming! Inside, it was a dark, gloomy pub with an old, overheated Great Dane roaming around and a slow-moving and dry Ukrainian waitress serving the local beers. The food was decent; I had a pizza with an unusually thick and sweet crust and Joe had some grilled meat which turned out to be OK. Other than that, there was half-decent football and we were in Egypt. What else could anyone ask for?

June 26 - Pimped again and KFC/USA

I started the day off with a morning run. If you get going early enough in Cairo, the absolutely mental traffic is not so bad. My theory is that since everyone stays out until 3 or so at night that they must rest sometime, so 7AM is pretty quiet. It was a nice run in the cool-ish morning of Cairo, just before the evil Sun was to rise again to burn my ass all day.

One thing about running in Cairo, though. You know how I said a while back that people look at you like you have two heads if you go to Africa and don't go on safari? Well in Cairo, they look at you like you have FOUR heads (that is NOT a typo. Not two, not three, but FOUR heads) if you go out jogging downtown. In any case, I got back to the place just as it was becoming unbearable and we could then start the day.

Joe and I headed back to the bazaar, where we were sure we would avoid being pimped any more. Except we got pimped even harder this time. The man we encountered as we stepped out of the taxi recognized us from the day before, and insisted we come with him so he could show us the way to the mosque (he claimed to be on his way to pray!) and give us a quick tour. We declined, but he wasn't taking no for an answer, so we followed him to the mosque. Except the next thing you know, we were in a papyrus gallery. After some polite conversation with the owner, I was haggling for a papyrus I didn't come looking for. From 350 Egyptian Pounds, I got the price down to 260 (about $50), but I'm sure this could have been cheaper, probably even 150 Egyptian Pounds. The place was at least a legitimate papyrus place, so at least I came away with a decent piece of merchandise. Two things about shopping in Egypt: 90% of everything you see is complete crap and never, ever, ever enter into any haggling with a third party, or "tout" with you. Our friend the tout was sad to see us go, but then Joe and I continued into other parts of the bazaar and actually had some fun shopping and got some good stuff at good prices.

Later that night, the agenda was pretty simple: KFC and USA. Joe and I had both been craving KFC ever since we had seen an Arabic KFC ad in the Business Lounge at Cairo Airport on our way to South Africa. The ad starred the amazing Lionel Messi and featured beautiful dissolves between Messi playing football and playing the drums with KFC drumsticks. The splendor of the ad meant KFC had our business, at least in the Middle East. And after the Colonel's secret recipe, there would be nothing better to wash that down than a USA/Ghana round of 16 match.

It is not hard to find a KFC in Cairo. There were at least three within walking distance of our apartment. Joe and I chose the furthest but largest outlet, and walked over. The scene inside was typical Cairo: a mob of people pushing and shoving to get their order in first. We noticed there were a bunch of TVs inside and hoped we had killed 2 birds with 1 stone by coming to this location as we were hoping they would be showing the game. When we found out they would not (as they didn't have the right satellite package), we ordered hastily and ate our KFC the way it's meant to be eaten: fast. I can now personally attest to the consistency of KFC's product, be it in San Francisco or Cairo. KFC is KFC everywhere.

We now needed to hop in a cab and cross the Nile over to a place called Sports Café. Sports Café was almost like an American sports bar, with pictures of Michael Jordan, Joe Montana and Larry Bird along with soccer legends like Dennis Bergkamp and Thierry Henry. One thing that set it apart was the amount of clientele smoking "shisha" or what we know as hookah. But Sports Café had plenty of big-screen HD TVs, and that's all we needed to enjoy the World Cup.

Sadly, the Egyptian support that the USA enjoyed when playing Egypt's bitter rivals Algeria had almost entirely dried up for this match with Ghana, the lone remaining African World Cup representative. Almost all of the fans at Sports Café minus Joe and myself were cheering vigorously for Ghana. Hell, if they're going to be that fickle, we don't need the Egyptians on board anyway! After a hard fought match and some typical missed chances by the USA, a great goal by Ghana's Asamoah Gyan put Ghana ahead for good in injury time. Losing to a great goal is, for me, much better than losing to a bad refereeing decision or a really egregious error by your team (although USA defender Steve Cherundulo could have done way better on the winning goal). After the match, some friendly Egyptians consoled Joe and I, and we said we hoped USA and Egypt would both qualify in four years. Getting out of the group stage was nice, but on balance this was not a highly positive result for our guys, and I'm just hoping for entertainment from here on out. Until next time...

June 25 - A bazaar day

OK, so today I celebrated my 32nd birthday by NOT going for a run at 7AM like I had planned the night before. It was Friday, and I guess the weekends here are Friday/Saturday, so it was very quiet (something I honestly did not think possible in Cairo) when the Dan, Emily, Joe and I stepped out to go to the local coffee shop that was open. The coffee shop was buried in a decrepit but somehow cool tunneled out area below some tall buildings across the street from us. I'm no theologian, but Emily pointed out that there was Christian art in this little shop with outdoor tables, so perhaps that is why it could be open so early on the Muslim holy day of Friday. We all ordered Egyptian coffee, which is actually Turkish coffee, where the beans are ground up in the glass that you are drinking from before they settle to the bottom.

Next, we wanted to go shopping, so we headed to the Khan al Khalili Bazaar. Upon arriving in a taxi, we were a bit disoriented, so of course a friendly Egyptian offered to show us around. His name was Hashim, and he told us: "Welcome to the land of confusion, welcome to Alaska." This was only one of four or five times I'd heard an Egyptian refer to Egypt as Alaska. In any case, he assured us he had lots of money (by showing us a huge wad of cash) and that he needed no "baksheesh" for his troubles. This was a sure sign that he was a guy looking for baksheesh, but not from us, from the merchants he was going to bring us by. Hashim was what I like to call a personal shopping pimp. It was not the last time we would encounter one of these guys. He implored us to come with him to the "Egyptian" side of the Khan al Khalili, as opposed to the "tourist" side. On the Egyptian side, we walked through a maze of alleys of tiny shops, with stagnant puddles, trash, and cats eating large piles of animal innards everywhere. That is not to say there wasn't interesting merchandise to be had over there, but it was the kind of place you might think you'd made a wrong turn into if you didn't know better.

In any case, we managed to shake him off after looking for a while at some substandard inlaid boxes, and we continued over to the tourist side of the bazaar. Except we made a wrong turn somewhere. And we ended up in one of the most frenetic, wild, full of crappy goods, crowded and local markets I can imagine. We walked around this tightly packed maze of streets for about a half an hour until we escaped. At the end of the street, a man was leading some kind of chant as people around him ripped open t-shirts out of plastic bags and tossed them around like some kind of t-shirt stock exchange. http://www.facebook.com/seanlarrett?v=app_2392950137#!/video/video.php?v=10150228828585057 People were trying to sell us shirts for less than 20 cents US.

After all that, we were naturally hungry, so we started looking for food. The guidebook recommended a restaurant called Gad, so with the help of some almost exclusively Arabic speaking locals, we set out to find it. After walking in circles for maybe twenty minutes, a nice man led us to a local spot based on the one word I told him: koshary. Koshary is a dish that contains macaroni, rice, lentils, garbanzo beans, fried onions and tomato sauce, and may include some meat. We never found Gad, but our new friend took us to a typical koshary restaurant, where they serve koshary and nothing else. He refused baksheesh. We sat down, didn't order, and instantly there was a tin, army-style bowl of koshary in front of us. The place had good koshary, and after eating it, we paid about $2.50 for four big bowls and left. It was a great experience, and there were nothing but locals inside, which made for an interesting eating experience for us and them, I'm sure.

After all of that, Dan and Emily departed Joe and I to go south up the Nile and take a boat cruise. After that, as this is nominally a World Cup blog, Joe and I wandered downtown to watch Spain beat Chile 2-1 to secure passage to the next round. Until next time...

June 24 - the Pyramids

If you're in Cairo, you've got to go see the Pyramids and the Sphinx. People will look at you like you have two heads if you come back from here without seeing them. I personally had no interest in safari adventures, but was persuaded to go on one because of the "people looking at you like you have two heads when you tel them you've been to Africa without going on safari" rule. So today we went to the Pyramids in Giza (which did interest me all along).

Giza is about 20-25 minutes southwest of Cairo by air-conditioned minivan, which is how we got there after our new best friend Youssiri arranged a driver and tour guide for us. We left at 7AM, which was great because that helped us avoid some of the heat associated with being out in the middle of the desert in the summer. We also made sure to be there early because access to the Pyramids is limited and it pays to beat the crowds, as you can get turned away if you're not early enough (or so I was told).

As you approach the Pyramids of Giza, you are in the town of Giza, which is basically a part of the sprawl of the city of Cairo itself. There is development to the east of the Pyramids, creeping right up as close as it can come. To the west, there is nothing but sand. The Pyramids grow in their magnificence with every step closer that you take. After paying the entrance fees (there are separate fees to go inside the two greatest Pyramids), we finally were close enough to walk next to, touch, and climb on the Pyramids. It's a bit strange to walk all over these amazing monuments, but much worse has been done to them in the over 4,500 years since they were built and I don't think they're going anywhere, so what the hey.

climbing around on the Great Pyramid of Cheops

There is of course a vast horde of people trying to squeeze every dollar and Egyptian Pound out of you that they can. I can't blame them, as I am relatively very wealthy compared to many of the people hustling away at the 'mids. The most common M.O. of these guys was to literally force a "gift" into your hand, saying it's for free and good luck and then to demand a tip. I appreciated their hustle, but I was not interested, finally letting anything they tried to give me fall to the ground, which they assured me was very bad luck.

Our tour guide Mohamed had the driver speak to some of the camel wranglers to get us a good price on a camel ride (I know, cheesy tourist, but when will I ever get to ride a camel again?) and we set out with some camel wranglers to experience the thrill of loping along on one of these giant beasts. The hardest part of the ride was the camel getting up from its seated position as it rocked forward and backwards as it extended first its back and then its front legs. I nearly fell off, as no one told me to lean back as it started to get up. The other challenging part of the ride was dealing with the incessant prodding for tips from the camel wranglers. "I take care of you, you take care of me," "Give me something and it is our secret between God," and "Good camel makes good tip," were some things I heard about 1000 times in the five minute experience. I will have to say that the raised perspective of being on the camel made for an amazing experience while exploring the area around the pyramids, and it was well worth the $12 or so I spent on the entire experience. After we paid our tips and got off the camels, we still had to pay the original fee to the guys who I'll call the "camel pimps," who ran the show. These guys were hassling us for even more tips. I say this not to complain, it's just an observation on how the guys we met at the pyramids were the most brazen hustlers I've ever met in all my travels to any tourist landmark. Good for them, as they are just trying to get a buck in this lifetime just like me.

Emily, Dan, myself, and Joe in front of the Pyramid of Khafre

After departing from the camels, we made our way over to the Sphinx. It was smaller than I had imagined it, but very captivating, especially considering the massive pyramids that provided the background for it. Our tour guide told us that the Sphinx had been buried in sand up to the neck until 1937, so the Sphinx that Mark Twain and Gustave Flaubert gushed about in their writing was merely a head sticking out of the sand.

the beautiful and mysterious Sphinx

We were back by 12:30, and on a day like this you could sleep the rest of the day and not feel guilty, but we did go out exploring and we learned a couple more things:
1. the reason there are so many police hanging around our building constantly is that we are right next to a synagogue that has been targeted for terrorist attacks.
2. the men's bathroom in the Ramses train station (according to Joe) is something that has to be seen to be believed. He couldn't even describe it. I never saw it, so I have to go back.

And that's it, my reason to come back to Cairo: the men's room in the Ramses train station. All for now.

June 23 - CAIRO!!!

OK, so I arrived in Cairo today. I could tell right away I was in for a special experience. The taxi driver who was bringing me to my apartment smack dab in the middle of downtown spoke no English whatsoever. I couldn't even get him to explain to me how to say "thank you." He took me through the busiest, most bewildering and unregulated stream of traffic, weaving through pedestrians all the way, to the wrong address. That was only because there are 2 buildings called 19 Sharia Adly, each on one side of the Banque du Caire.

There I was met by Youssiri, a man who wanted to be intimately involved in all aspects of my life. He was there on behalf of the lady I was renting the apartment from, to let me in and so forth. He at once began badgering me about when I wanted to visit the Pyramids, Luxor and all the other attractions in Egypt. He also wanted to be my personal valet for everything I needed food-wise in the apartment. "You want I get fruit? Sandwich? You give me money, I go," he said.

Having shaken him off, I waited with my friends Dan and Emily for Joe to arrive. When he arrived, we swung into action right away and headed for Coptic Cairo, an historical stronghold of Christianity in an otherwise very Muslim place. Coptic Cairo had some cool stuff, but my favorite was Saint George's Church. Saint George must have been a dragon-slayer, because everywhere there were almost completely identical reproductions of a piece of art depicting a knight slaying a dragon. There were paintings, velvet paintings, wood carvings, plastic models, neon banners, and vanity mirror reproductions of the sculpture on the façade of the church. I've provided a couple of photographs, but it's hard to describe the variety of styles of this same motif and the ubiquitousness of it in the church.

there were so many examples of this art motif, and they all looked like they were produced in the 1970s.

We also stepped into an underground prayer room that suffered from the kind of stuffiness that comes from not only being in Cairo in the middle of Summer, but also from having lots of sweaty tourists trapped in a tiny room underground.

Making our escape from there, we went to the Mosque of Amr ibn al-As, the first mosque ever built in Egypt. I guess it's kind of like visiting the first grain of sand on a beach, because Egypt is lousy with mosques now. I was impressed at how cool it was under the canopied areas in the mosque (the ceiling fans were probably added after 642 AD).

in the courtyard of the mosque of Amr ibn al-As, the first mosque built in Egypt

Later that evening, we went to watch the USA face Algeria in a must-win World Cup game. Finding a place to watch it was much harder than you would think for being downtown in an intensely crowded city in a country obsessed with football. For one thing, they don't really have bars here, or at least the ones they do have don't advertise it very much. For another, TVs are harder to find than you might think. We finally stumbled across a street with some TVs and tables right before halftime of the match, and sat down to watch.

Seated just next to us was the only person we could find that was supporting Algeria. Egypt and Algeria have had a very contentious footballing relationship in the recent past, and nearly all the Egyptians in the viewing area were cheering vigorously for the USA on every crunching tackle, towering header, and missed opportunity. Our friend who was rooting for Algeria was sticking to some sort of fundamental Arabic pride linking Egypt and Algeria, but he was polite nonetheless. The USA needed a win to secure certain passage to the next round of the tournament.

We had to wait for what seemed like an eternity as the USA missed an endless string of opportunities, until finally Landon Donovan put us ahead 1-0 deep into second half injury time. The patrons of the outdoor cafés seated around us erupted like Egypt had just won the World Cup (well, nothing like that, but at least the reaction of a sports bar celebrating the local baseball team hitting a go-ahead home run). As the USA held on for the win, the guy who ran the place we were at came over to congratulate us, and offered the nearby Algeria supporter the lovely sentiment of "fuck off Algeria!"


Egyptian fans celebrating the USA's win over Algeria. The man that walks into the frame was the restaurant owner. He drops in a "fuck off Algeria" if you listen closely

One thing I haven't mentioned enough is that Cairo is absolutely the most crazy city I have ever been to in terms of noises, improvisational businesses in dilapidated buildings, traffic chaos, overly friendly people, overly aggressive salesmanship, heat, dust, old crappy cars, people carrying tons of stuff, horn honking, driving with no headlights (I can't tell you how normal this is), and just general bedlam. I am always looking for a more pulsating and energetic city experience, and Cairo by far takes the cake as far as what I've seen. More to come...

June 22 - Soweto and red eye to Cairo

So on June 22, we set up a tour of the city of Soweto. Soweto lies just to the Southwest of Johannesburg, hence the name: So(outh)we(stern) to(wnship). It is sort of a living monument in itself to apartheid and racial segregation in South Africa. The main reason we used a tour was not because of safety concerns (I've been assured that Soweto is safe, especially during daylight) but because we had no idea where anything was in this place and we could use the history lesson that a tour guide provides.

Our tour guide was a man who went by the name Sunny Boy. He said he is called that because he always like to hang out in the sun as a child. Regrettably, I didn't take a picture with Sunny Boy, as we had to part ways very hastily so Joe could make his flight. One of the first places we stopped was the Elias Motsoaledi informal settlement. The man for whom the informal settlement was named was one of the eight defendants who were sentenced to life imprisonment (including Nelson Mandela) in the Rivonia Trial in 1963 and 1964. During the trip to the informal settlement, we had another guide, a man who called himself "B." B showed us some of the harsh living conditions people have to endure in these informal settlements. We were instructed by both B and Sunny Boy not to give the little kids money, and they were very persistent in pursuing it. I did not give any of the kids money, but some of their stories and pleas were very heart-rending.

Moving on, we rushed by a few of the major landmarks of Soweto before stopping at Vilakazi Street, home to (among other things) Nelson Mandela's former house and Orlando West High School. Orlando West High School was the epicenter of one of the earliest major incidents in the 1976 Soweto Uprising against apartheid. In a planned march from Orlando West High School to Orlando East Police Station to protest the teaching of Afrikaans in black schools, police shot and killed 13 year old Hector Pieterson, the first death in a bloody year that saw over 600 students killed in protests of apartheid. We also visited the museum built in Hector Pieterson's name, which commemorated the events of the Soweto Uprising.

Nelson Mandela's former house in Orlando West, Soweto

Orlando West High School in Soweto

After Sunny Boy dropped us off, we booked off for our respective flights, but not before watching South Africa give qualification for the second round a run for the money as they threatened to beat the woeful France by the required margin to advance. There was palpable excitement about it in the air as residents were blowing their vuvuzelas as it looked like this impossible dream may come true. It was not to be, however, and South Africa crashed out.

I would just like to thank everyone in South Africa for all their hospitality and good will while I was there. It was a truly fantastic experience meeting all the lovely people I got to cross paths with, and I hope their country keeps getting better and better. On another note, I saw many people in South Africa who have to struggle so hard just to get what I might consider a little reward in their lives. It is just another reason to be thankful for what I've got and what massive material wealth has been given to me all my life, most of the time without me even realizing it. For while I may not be wealthy in my country, there are a great deal of South Africans who can only dream of the opportunities I've had in my life.

OK, enough waxing philosophical, it's off for my favorite thing: another red eye. This time, I'll be in Cairo when I wake...

June 21 - Spain v. Honduras

Hello. I had to take a few days off from blogging between rushing around Johannesburg going to games and whatnot and traveling to Cairo, which must be by far the most busy, crowded, chaotic, noisy, polluted and crazy city I have ever been to. My kind of town, for sure!

So on Monday, June 21, we did next to nothing all day except for make our last arduous trek out to a World Cup match, this time to Ellis Park to watch Spain play Honduras. There are only a couple things I can now recall from this trip:

-Lars (and later I as well) ate something called "bunny chow" on the way to the match. It was being sold by a street vendor that was also selling stuff I typically associate with Indian cuisine, such as samosas and roti. The bunny chow consisted of five or so inches of the butt end of a loaf of white bread hollowed out and stuffed with curried chicken, carrots and potatoes. It was very tasty. I was later assured that there are different versions of bunny chow, this being the Indian variety. I added some of the homemade (and very spicy) chili paste that the vendor was offering to the effect of even greater delight.

enjoying a "bunny chow"

Then we watched Spain kick the crap out of Honduras 2-0. It could have been 5-0 or 6-0 all too easily. We had great seats to watch the match and it was fun to watch the great Spain power around all day. We got back early, as the next day promised to be a long one.

our seats to watch Spain play Honduras, probably the best we had in the eight games we attended

So, after all the matches, we saw in person:
8 matches
4 stadiums
22 goals (2.75 per match)
2 own goals (3 if you count Robert Green's hilarious error to give the USA a goal)
6 parking locations

OK, television, it's over to you to keep me watching in the 2010 World Cup.

June 20 - Apartheid Museum and Brazil v. Cote d'Ivoire

Today after getting a late start and making the near daily pilgrimage to Lulu Café in Parktown North (which has wireless internet), we headed out to the Apartheid Museum. The Apartheid Museum is situated not too far from Soccer City, where we later went to watch Brazil face Cote d'Ivoire (or Ivory Coast for you Francophobes).

When you arrive at the Apartheid Museum in a car, you are asked whether it is the Museum you are visiting or the Gold Reef Casino, which shares a parking lot with the Museum. After you park, you may enter the Museum for only 50 Rand.

the entrance to the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg

We gave ourselves 4 hours for the Museum, and we used every second of that. It is one of the most present, relevant, thought-provoking, and exhaustive museums I have ever been to. There is a tremendous amount of detail in all of the history leading up to Apartheid and a wealth of artifacts and video footage from the recent history of Apartheid in South Africa. There was also a comprehensive temporary exhibit on the life and times of Nelson Mandela, who is a man I've decided I need to know more about. It was literally hard to get out of the musem in four hours.

After we left the museum at 5:50, we had to go maybe two miles as the crow flies to get to Soccer City. It inevitably took us around 45 minutes to get parked, as there was already traffic around Soccer City. I've been to Soccer City three times now, and I'm not going to miss it one bit. We stopped at some street vendors on the way in for some food. I myself had fried chicken, pab (sort of like grits), some salsa-like substance, and some beet salad. An interesting meal. I followed that up with an in -stadium boerewors and it was time to watch some football.

the view from our seats to watch Brazil face Cote d'Ivoire

After a slow-moving 25 minutes or so, Brazilian ace Luis Fabiano opened the scoring with one of the goals of the tournament, a top corner rocket from an acute angle to beat the Ivorian 'keeper. At the beginning of the second half, Fabiano doubled Brazil's advantage with a goal that looked like a really amazing piece of skill: bringing the ball down softly twice after looping it over Ivorian defenders both times and then smashing the ball left-footed past the netminder. On the replays, however (a couple of which were accidentally shown in the stadium), there looked to be handball on the play. That was not to be the end of the controversy on this night.

Later, Brazil's Kaká was sent off after it seemed there was some play-acting by one of the Ivorian players. It is a shame because Kaká (one of Brazil's top players) will miss their next match. In the end, Brazil won 3-1 and they probably do not need the services ok Kaká in the next match anyway, as they have secured passage to the knock-out stages with their two wins in two matches so far.

On the walk back to the car, I swapped scarves with a Brazilian man who was excited to get a USA scarf. Who says our country is hated all over the world?

after trading scarves with a Brazil fan

June 19 - Armed response

OK, so I've said before that our apartment is like a maximum security prison, right? Well, today, we met the guards.

On every home or business around in Johannesburg, there is barbed wire, electric fences, and signs that promise "armed response" in the event of a security breach. Our apartment is no different. Every day when the last of us leaves, that person arms the alarm system. Today, when I was the first person to get back to the apartment, I forgot the alarm system was on and just walked in like I owned the place.

What's funny about this is that the alarm did not go off straight away. It wasn't until Fawzi walked into the garden that the motion detectors out there were tripped and the alarm went off. At first, Fawzi and I did not realize our alarm was going off. The alarm itself was only sounding in the master bedroom, where Joe was taking a shower. As I sat in my room and Fawzi sat in the garden listening to what we thought was a far-off alarm, Joe was trying to shower through an air-raid siren in his ears. When I finally realized that our place was the one with the alarm issues, I frantically ran to the master bedroom to try to shut it off, further disturbing Joe's not-so peaceful shower. When I was finally able to turn the alarm off, the question was really when, not if, there would be an "armed response."

After about ten minutes, I heard the phone ring. There is no reason for anyone to call us, and in fact that phone is only there to control the gate on the street. They were here. I obligingly buzzed them in from the phone, but did not speak to anyone. I told Fawzi to brace himself, and we opened the door to meet our guardians. When I walked up the steps a bit, I was confronted with two burly black guys, both with what looked like automatic weapons. Each had their hands on the weapon in a ready position to open fire. They were very cordial, however, and believed my story about how we were renting the place from a guy named Graham and that we accidentally tripped the alarm. My biggest regret was that I did not get a photo with these gentlemen before they went on their way.

That was to be the most eventful moment of an otherwise uneventful day. Shortly thereafter, the apartment owner Graham stopped by. He stopped by so shortly after, in fact, that it seemed he had been alerted about the security breach and was stopping by to make sure everything was OK. In fact, he had no idea about our alarm-related issues and was only stopping by to clean up a bit. When I told him we needed a number of someone to help get the scratch out of the car that we put on it leaving the Worst Parking Spot Ever™ at Ellis Park, he simply produced some silver polish, and completely obliterated the scratch himself. Avis will never know. Heh heh.

Later, we visited the African Craft Market at Rosebank Mall. It is a classic bargaining market, where you can get discounts as much as 50% off the "original" price (nothing has a price tag). It reminded me a great deal of bargaining in Istanbul at the Grand Bazaar. I shopped for a while, making sure to pick up some lovely trinkets for each and every one of you reading this. One stall was run by a young man named Norman and his brother. I bought a stone rhino from Norman, who was unfortunately wearing a Mexico shirt, but was the artist who had produced the rhino.

Norman the stone-carving guy and I in the African Craft Market at Rosebank Mall - Johannesburg

All that was left to do was have a great dinner, and we went straight back to the Local Grill, which is walkable from our apartment. Another great steak dinner down, and just a few more days in Johannesburg. OK, gotta get rolling, until next time...

June 18 - USA v. Slovenia

Today we decided to set out early for Ellis Park to watch the USA in a critical match with Slovenia. Early meant leaving for a 4 o'clock game at around 12:30. When we arrived at the Park and Walk at Athlone Boys High School at around 1:30, we donned all of our ultra-patriotic gear and marched in to the stadium.

Most of the fans we saw at that point were USA supporters. We even saw such luminaries as George Washington, Elvis and Captain America on their way in to support the boys in Red, White, and Blue. One of the best parts of the walk in was getting lots of love from fellow San Francisco Giants fans as I was wearing my Giants hat.

While we were taking the 25-30 minute walk from the parking lot to the stadium, we stopped at what was either a nursery school or grade school where they were having a braai (or BBQ) to raise money. There were a great deal of USA supporters in there already, so we stopped in and had some Carling Black Label beer and boerewors to tide us over for the match. It's a bit strange to be in a preschool with barbed wire all over the perimeter, but the place had a right good atmosphere so we enjoyed our short stay there.

planting the US flag at a preschool in Johannesburg. Note the barbed wire

Having satisfied our appetites, we cruised in to the stadium. On the way in, we happened upon a group of little South African kids enthusiastically chanting "USA, USA, USA." People here have been very supportive of the United States, and the children we meet seem genuinely thrilled to see people from the USA. The kids were so cute that we had to stop and take a picture.

Joe with some young USA fans

Inside the gates to the stadium was pretty wild. There was a really good atmosphere for the match, with lots of energetic Americans and lots of really drunk Slovenians. The Slovenians we did encounter outside the stadium were nothing if not friendly (maybe overly so), so we expected a good time in the stadium.

outside Ellis Park pre-match with the US flag

Joe with some Slovenians that were ready to party

When we got to our seats, we had a much different experience with our Slovenian counterparts. There was a massive amount of Slovenian fans in our section, including some in all of our seats. At first, they were determined not to move from our seats, one even remarking to us "Why must you be so imperialistic?" when we asked for our seats back. When the four Slovenians in our seats finally relented, there were still a massive number of Slovenians in and around us, and most of them left their best manners at the gates to Ellis Park.

our seats at Ellis Park to watch USA/Slovenia

In the first half, not only did we have to deal with a row of angry Slovenians just in front of us who were the only people in our whole section that wouldn't sit down, we had to stomach the USA defending sloppily and being passed off the park by the Slovenians on their way to a 2-0 halftime deficit. It was a disheartening half, and one that only added fuel to the raging inferno that was our Slovenian buddies just in front of us.

Thankfully, the second half would prove to be much different. The USA came out with much greater intent, and almost immediately there was an excitement in the air that comes with the promise of an intense 45 minutes of football. When Landon Donovan took advantage of the Slovenian right back's mistake and went on to beat the 'keeper top shelf from right on the goal line, all the USA fans erupted. With plenty of game left and the momentum on our side, we were sure we would get an equalizer. And equalize we did, as Jozy Altidore headed down a long pass into the path of the onrushing Michael Bradley, who again beat the Slovenian 'keeper over his head. 2-2 and the celebrations were euphoric. In front of us, I saw one of our Slovenian nemeses go falling as if he were pushed, and braced myself for some sort of brawl. Luckily, that never materialized, but things were certainly edgy at this point.

As the USA were roaring back to life on the field, the USA fans in the stand were all anticipating a go-ahead goal. From a set-piece that took place away from our side of the field (while our seats were still good, all the goals were scored on the other side of the field), Jozy Altidore smashed one into the back of the net to give the USA an apparent 3-2 lead. We all went ballistic until I caught a glimpse of one of our Slovenian buddies in front of us waving his finger to let us know the goal had been disallowed. Upon seeing the replay on TV later that night, it's clear that the USA had a perfectly good goal disallowed and the referee will not say what he disallowed the goal for. There has been talk of a FIFA probe on the Malian referee, a man by the name of Coulibaly. In any case, he ended up costing the USA two points as the game would end in a 2-2 draw. The good news is that the USA control their destiny after a dismal England performance saw them draw 0-0 with Algeria in Cape Town. England were much maligned in the press for their performance. If the USA beat Algeria, then they are through to the knockout stages no matter what.

the England team was thrashed in the media for their dreadful performance against Algeria in Cape Town

After the match, I met up with Russ Lathrop, an EVS operator (like myself) who is here in Johannesburg working, but had time to catch the USA match in his time off. Russ is a great guy, and he is also blogging while here at the World Cup. You can read his blog at: randomrustyrambles.blogspot.com


On our way back to the car, we passed two young girls in the street chanting "USA." I stopped to give them high-fives, and one of the girls asked me for my flag. Knowing I didn't need the hassle of carrying my flag anymore as we were done attending USA matches, I obliged. The girls gleefully ran off into the night with the flag, continuing to chant "USA." I hope that little girl holds on to Old Glory and cherishes it for a long time, but another part of me figures she's already sold it for 50 Rand.

June 17 - Messi, Messi, Messi and a great dinner

After a day without live football, Lars, Fawzi, Joe and I set out early for Soccer City this morning to watch the great Lionel Messi and Argentina face South Korea. Our first order of business was to get a parking slip so we could park our car at Soccer City. In order to do this we had to go to a "Computicket" location. We were told by a casual acquaintance that Computicket could be found in pretty much any local grocery store. Don't believe everything you hear.

We stopped by the local Woolworth's (a store that I still can't quite figure out; there seem to be separate examples of it that sell either groceries or clothing), and were told to go to Rosebank Mall because they did not have Computicket. Losing time already, we went to Rosebank Mall and were once again denied as there was no Computicket in sight in a relatively large mall. They directed us to Hyde Park Mall, where we finally found Computicket and printed out our parking permit for Soccer City.

Under the gun time-wise, we rushed to Soccer City, again aided mostly by maps. Also, Fawzi's pay-as-you-go account with Vodacom started picking up 3G, so he had Google Maps helping us on his iPhone. At this point, we were all anticipating missing the kick-off, although nobody said that. When we approached the inevitable traffic jam surrounding Soccer City, Joe sprung into action again and directed us to another freeway with far less traffic that actually got us closer to our parking. With this piece of good fortune, some quick walking and a painless entry into the stadium, we were in our seats with minutes to spare.

the view from our awesome seats at Soccer City to watch Argentina face South Korea

Argentina put on the best display of football we have seen yet, with the amazing Lionel Messi and the tenacious Carlos Tevez leading the way. The title of this blog should have probably been "Higuain, Higuain, Higuain," because the Argentinean #9 scored a classy hat-trick, but Messi did everything besides put the ball in the back of the net. He is one of the greatest players I have ever seen, much in the same mold style-wise as his coach, the great Diego Maradona. Maradona may have been the best player ever, but the jury is still out on his effectiveness as a coach and he is in a fashion no-man's land with a crazy Karl Marx-ish beard and a suit that looks like it was purchased off the rack in the bargain section at the Men's Wearhouse. In any case, his team is looking the most dangerous in the World right now and we were treated to a match full of attacking flair and grit from the Argentines.

When we got back to the apartment, we were looking for some food. We decided to head for a place called Carnivore using the 3G on the iPhone to guide us there. If you've ever been led to the wrong place using the Google Maps search function, then you'll understand our frustration at being sent to a dead part of downtown Johannesburg at night looking for a renowned restaurant, only to find grit and grime everywhere we looked. For those of you from the Bay Area, imagine being on 6th and Market, then imagine that it's actually Johannesburg. To be fair, I never felt remotely threatened, but then again there is a reputation here, so we scooted back to our neighborhood pronto, where we found a place called the Local Grill.

If you're reading this and you're ever in Johannesburg and you don't eat at the Local Grill (www.localgrill.co.za), I will feel personally insulted. It was the best steak dinner I have ever had. I have never had more tender and delightfully seasoned meat, and the starters, sides, wine, and salads were all top-notch. To top that off, the service was fantastic, and we were given a full tour of the kitchen and the "meat aging room" by one of the owners of the place, a man named Llewy. He gave me a proper education on many of the cuts of meat they had and how they were aged to achieve maximum tenderness. Long live the Local Grill!

with Llewy in the meat aging room at the Local Grill in Parktown North, Johannesburg

While we were there, we watched the abominable France, with their outrageously awful coach Raymond Domenech, lose 2-0 to Mexico. Never has so much talent looked so bad in almost any sport. I cannot believe Domenech has persisted in his job as coach of France for this long. Shocking. I hope South Africa beat them like a rented mule in the final group stage match so they can move on. Tomorrow the USA's group is playing, and we will be off to see the Red, White and Blue boys at Ellis Park as they take on Slovenia. Until then...

June 16 - An official safari and heartbreak for Bafana Bafana

So after getting back late from Ellis Park, Joe Fawzi, and I set out the next morning to go to a place called Plumari Game Reserve, which was about an hour and fifteen minutes north of where we were staying in Johannesburg. The plan was to leave by 6:15AM so we could make the 8AM tour with some cushion room. Inevitably, we left closer to 6:40AM, so there was not to be any cushion room.

Once again we were using maps, but this time we had on our side the fact that this game reserve was located just off the road we had already traveled the other day on the way to Rustenburg for USA/England. There was only one turn that was different, and with Joe calling the safari outfit as we made that one different turn, we arrived just in time to grab a coffee at the lodge and pile into the truck for our animal viewing experience. Another victory for maps!

Anyone who knows me will know that I'm not that interested in looking at animals. I know it's de rigeur when you're in Africa to do so, but I wasn't convinced. However, I had a great time on this little tour. There were some other Americans with us, as well as some folks from New Zealand who were still brimming with pride from the fact that their team had played to a thrilling draw with Slovakia the day before. Our guide was a man who introduced himself as either Sanele or Benjamin (one was his more traditional tribal name and the other his English name). Sanele was very knowledgeable about the animals, earnest, and funny.

We got to see lions, kudu, impalas, wildebeest, hippos, giraffes and a whole host of other animals. It was much better for me than being at a zoo (also known as an animal prison). For my money, the most impressive animals were the lions (we only really got a good look at the females as the male we saw was obscured by brush) and the giraffes. Our guide also showed us some giant bones of 2 separate giraffes that had been struck and killed by lightning. Due to the high iron content in the rocks in the area, there is a lot of lightning, and giraffes are especially susceptible to strikes because of their height. According to our guide. when an animal is struck and killed, no other animal will eat it due to the stench of sulphur on the carcass.

the giraffes were very impressive in person

Joe with a lion in the near background

So, having had a good time on our safari, Joe, Fawzi and I headed back to the apartment in Johannesburg. While we passed through Magaliesburg, we saw a police escort helping the Portuguese team bus out of town. I'm a bit surprised that Portugal would stay in a smallish town like Magaliesburg, but with the police helping you get around, the lack of major freeway access is probably not as tough to swallow.

When we got back to our neighborhood, we grabbed some pizza at a small place called Jolly Roger in the Parkhurst suburb and watched everyone's tournament favorite Spain lose a thrilling 1-0 to Switzerland. The football is definitely starting to improve.

In the evening's match, Bafana Bafana (something they say in South Africa that means roughly "The Boys," a nickname for the national soccer team) played Uruguay in their second match of the World Cup. We watched on in a small restaurant called Espresso with a very patriotic group of South Africans as the national team played poorly and was beaten by a better Uruguay side 3-0. That result left South Africa's chances of qualifying for the knockout stages hanging by a thread, with them needing to beat France in their third match and needing help from the other teams in their group.

I will be disappointed if South Africa do not proceed. For as much as the games have been a major hassle to get in and out of, all the people we have met in South Africa have been fantastic, and a nice run for Bafana Bafana could be really uplifting to everyone here.

The good news was that while we watched the game, our cars were being guarded by none other than New York's finest, the NYPD! In the nicer neighborhoods, there is always someone watching your car while you park, and you should give them a small tip (I've been giving the equivalent of about ¢75). In Parkhurst, the car guards all wear NYPD vests. I took a photo with one of them much to his bafflement, and he had not heard of the New York Police Department. Until next time...

NY's finest guarding our wheels while we ate in Parkhurst

June 15 - Brazil v. North Korea

*This is the first of three installments worth of blogging that I am posting today, because we have a very bad relationship with the internet right now*

Today we woke up relatively late and made our way over to the local internet cafe in the morning. We are having to go there for our internet because our maximum security prison of an apartment has no internet.

After doing some research on the subject of game preserves (or safari locations), we decided the best course of action would be to rent a car today ahead of going to the Brazil/North Korea match at Johannesburg's Ellis Park. That way we could wake up the next morning and head for our safari adventure first thing in the morning. Plus, we are stuck out in the 'burbs a bit, so having a car will be helpful for the next week.

So, back on the wrong side of the road again (I'm from the USA and we rule the world, so dammit, we're on the RIGHT side) and with Joe navigating, we made our way to the FIFA Park and Walk location near Ellis Park. This particular Park and Walk was
located about 30 minutes from the stadium. When we got there, we were told that we had to have a ticket that we did not possess in order to park there. This is where the entrepreneurial spirit of South Africa comes in.

A young man named Lloyd arrived on the scene and told us that for 50 Rand (about $6.50) we could park in his backyard, located just down the block from the Park and Walk. I know a good deal when I see one, so we hopped on it. Lloyd and his friend Edward (the two of them were probably around 19-21 years old) helped us park in a really narrow space in a small dusty backyard right between a couple of tree stumps. More on this later.

On the walk to the stadium, we encountered various people using their homes as a location to make and sell braai - Afrikaans for roasted meat. Joe, Fawzi and I all had some boerewors, a sausage made from minced beef (and maybe pork or lamb or maybe ?).

After our tasty snack, we continued to approach the stadium, where we encountered some awesome Brazil fans.

a Brazilian leprechaun with his pot of gold

These guys are always good for some fun, and the atmosphere did not dampen as we got closer to Ellis Park. One thing that did threaten to dampen the atmosphere was the fact that shortly after we entered the stadium, the electronic gates stopped working to admit fans in as there were power outages that were evident all over Ellis Park. Soon, a huge crowd amassed behind the iron gates, and if it weren't for the fact that it was still 45 minutes to kick-off, there may have been some serious crowd unrest.

Luckily, that was sorted out by 30 minutes to the kick, and normal business was restored. When we got to our seats, we were pleased to be in the front row of the upper deck and close to the half-way line.

the view from our seats at Ellis Park to watch Brazil take on North Korea

Two things would blight an otherwise great experience, however. First, it was cold. It was really cold. It was bone-chillingly, let's play hockey on a frozen lake cold. Second, a die-hard Brazil fan placed a banner made of the lightest material directly in front of our seats. And it was flying in our faces incessantly for the first couple of minutes of the match until we all decided to shove the banner below some ad hoardings so we could see. While our incensed Brazilian friend tried to forcibly restore his lightweight banner, the best football of the match took place, as Robinho did about 100 stepovers and then nutmegged the North Korean defender. Not a goal, but the moment of the match for me, and we spent it yelling at an angry middle-aged Brazilian man to get out of our way.

Moving on, the football in this match was better than much in the tournament. Brazil played to their usual high standard, and the #9 for North Korea (I have no idea about the names of any of their players) was outstanding. The two Brazil goals were awesome, with Maicon unleashing a rocket from a nearly impossible angle to beat the North Korean keeper, and the tricky Robinho making a slide-rule pass to set up wispy Elano for Brazil's second. Even North Korea scored, on an excellent move which ended with my Man of the Match #9 for Korea Democratic People's Republic (never trust a country with "Democratic" in its title, Joe commented) heading down for nameless #8 to score a well-taken goal.

Brazil would run out winners, and so would we, as this match was hands-down the easiest to get in and out of for us, except for the fact that moving the right-hand drive car that Joe rented out of our space was one of the most harrowing experiences I've ever had behind a wheel. From an angle nearly as tight as the one Maicon beat the keeper from, I had to turn hard left, attempting to avoid a tree and a tree stump and fit into a driveway two credit cards wider than my car. Trust me, I'm not hamming it up, it was no mean task getting that car out. And as a consequence I put the tiniest of scratches into the rear fender. Oh well, that's Joe's problem with Avis in Johannesburg now (I kid). We did manage to get to our apartment quickly and we'll sort the car out later. Until next post...

June 14th - Holland v. Denmark and our first visit to Sandton

the impressive Soccer City, the premier venue of the 2010 World Cup

On June 14th, we made our way into downtown Johannesburg as we had to return our rental car and make our way over to the sparkling new Soccer City Stadium just outside Johannesburg. Downtown Johannesburg seemed a bit grim and dark compared to what we experienced in Cape Town, but I would like to go back soon as it looked like a big, bustling city, and that's my kind of place.

Finding ourselves without a car, we needed to get to Soccer City somehow. We found a cab in downtown Johannesburg. The driver spoke very little English, but he somehow got us to one of the Park and Ride locations near the stadium.

One of the most remarkable experiences of this World Cup for me has been the enormous hassle of getting to and from the games. Today, for instance, we got to downtown Johannesburg two and a half hours before our match started. We were only in our seats about a half hour before the match. Getting back would be worse.

Our seats were very good for the match. They were in the second deck, so high enough to get a good view, and close enough to midfield to get a balanced viewpoint of all the action. We were seated behind a real-life Viking.

the view from our seats for Holland/Denmark at Soccer City

The match itself was like many so far in this World Cup. Not very exciting. Holland went ahead via an own goal and neither side had much spark until the Dutch introduced Eljero Elia, who did a couple of street footbal style moves and was the best thing to happen to the game. In the end, Holland won, much to the delight of their bizarrely costumed fans.

the "Flying Dutchmen (and women)" with a foreign journalist

After the match, we set out for Sandton, an affluent suburb of Johannesburg. This journey was to take about 3 hours, as we walked for what must have been literally miles looking for a bus to take us to proper transit. I don't want to criticize too heavily the authorities who have set up transport here, but signage and information was not on a par with many other places I have been in my life. Finally, we grabbed a bus that took us to Wits College in Johannesburg, where we started walking aimlessly again until we hopped in a cab bound for Sandton.

When we arrived in Nelson Mandela Square in Sandton, we found a bustling mall with upscale shops and restaurants. We soon found a Thai restaurant called Wangthai (I could eat Thai everyday), and stopped for some food and drink. While we were eating, we ran into a work colleague of ours from the Bay Area, Jason, and we chatted about our experiences so far here in South Africa. After moving to the bar, we watched the Italy/Paraguay game, which, in my humble opinion, was more crap football. I'm desperately hoping that this World Cup can start to offer more spectacle, as it has been a fairly drab one football-wise so far. OK, until next time...







Nelson Mandela Square in Sandton

June 13th - A day of rest

After a long 72 hours, we all crashed until late in the day on Sunday. The place we are staying at in Johannesburg is best described by Lars when he says "it's like breaking into Fort Knox" to get in. There are two large metal gates that separate the place from the street. There is barbed wire all along the perimeter wall to the house. The place itself has an intricate alarm system. Graham, the guy who owns the place, assures us that the area is safe (for my morning runs, for instance), but for a safe area, there sure is a lot of security on this apartment.

For me, it seems apparent that the great need for security stems from the enormous gulf in wealth here in South Africa between the haves and have-nots. It seems equally apparent that the haves are mostly white and the have-nots are mostly not white. I know that in the USA we have tremendous racism and class inequality, and I'm just a visitor here so I cannot know the whole story, but this place has a very twisted feeling to it regarding race and class differences.

I guess it's unnerving to have such a large amount of security at our place. It makes me feel like I'm going to get robbed all the time. However, everyone here has been friendly and kind so far, so I really hope this World Cup is an experience that South Africa can build upon to uplift the entire country. Tomorrow we go to our first game at the new Soccer City Stadium - Holland v. Denmark, so times should continue to be exciting.

June 12th - USA v. England

I've had to work to get to some sporting events before in my life, but this day was to take the cake.

We woke up at 6AM to get to Cape Town Airport. From Cape Town, we caught a 10:55 flight to Johannesburg. This is where the real fun began. As Joe and Lars took a taxi over to our apartment in the Parktown North area of Johannesburg, Fawzi and I stayed behind to rent the car. Budget rentals at OR Tambo Airport in Johannesburg was a mess, as apparently we weren't the only people who were renting a car to make the 2 hour drive north to Rustenburg for the USA v. England match. When we finally got the car, we were told that Budget had no more GPS units. After scouring the rest of the airport for a GPS, we gave up and made our way old-school style over to the apartment with, wait for it.... maps!

It's been a while since I've used a map to navigate. Using the map, we did what seemed best: we made our way into downtown Johannesburg, from where I had a vague idea of how to get to Parktown North. With Fawzi and I getting remarkably close to our destination with our heads and a map, we enlisted the help of a friendly South African to get us the last bit of the way to our apartment.

At the apartment, which is fortified like a maximum security prison (more on that in later blog posts), we met the owner, Graham. Graham was kind enough to write out directions from our location to Rustenburg. In addition to his hand-written directions, we had a map of South Africa and a book of detailed maps of the Gauteng Province, where Johannesburg is located.

The problem with Graham's directions is that he failed to include street names at most of his turn locations. The directions read like this:

Take a left out of the driveway
Take the next left
Go five robots and then veer left
Take the next right
Go through two robots and take a right at the third robot

If you can't work it out on your own, South Africans call traffic lights robots. When we tried to follow Graham's directions, if he was even one "robot" off, we would be making the wrong turn and have a hard time knowing it. This is why we were lucky to have the book of detailed maps of the Gauteng Province. With Joe manning the navigational duties and me trying to stay on the correct side of the road, we hacked through the many turns on our way to Rustenburg using a combination of Graham's directions and a big book of maps that Joe was flipping through violently as he tried to stay with our progress.

A few things stood out on our drive to Rustenburg:

1. Highways in South Africa sometimes have stop signs.
2. We saw a sign that said "highjack point" on the way.
3. When you get to the middle of nowhere in Africa, it is vastly different from being in the middle of nowhere in the US. I can't fully describe it, but you can feel it.

In any case, we actually made it to Rustenburg, but it was really sort of against the odds that we did. When we finally made it around 6PM, we still had to park our car and make our way to the stadium. I don't know how big of a city Rustenburg is, but getting to it felt like trying to get to Woodstock or trying to get to a Superbowl that was being played in a sleepy small town. After about an hour and forty-five minutes in crawling traffic, we were able to park the car and boarded a bus to the Royal Bafokeng Stadium. Aboard the bus, we started running into some pockets of USA and England fans. There was some good friendly banter and when we got off, we had the opportunity to grab some USA flags for our march in.

On the way in, there were tons of flag-waving and singing USA and England fans. I myself was waving a USA flag for probably the first time in my life to support the team. The atmosphere was equally fantastic inside the stadium, as there were tons of flags, chanting, and vuvuzela blowing as the match got underway.

I won't say too much about the match except that it was a good result for the USA, as they were able to draw with the more fancied England side. England led, but the USA were able to equalize on an absolutely shocking piece of goalkeeping by England's Robert Green: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxspfInbLV8. After the match, we soaked up the atmosphere for a bit and began the long journey to our apartment in Johannesburg.

When we finally got out of the parking lot and on to the freeway, we saw tail lights for miles. We decided to stop at a spot right off the freeway called "Sizzlers," which bears no relation to the USA-based franchise. The poor people at Sizzlers were dealing with a huge crowd and a surly Englishman (disappointed at the match result I'm sure) complaining loudly about how long his order was taking. I ordered a hamburger and I ate it, even though the patty tasted like nothing I've ever eaten before. I'm honestly just glad to be alive and writing this blog now.

After we left Sizzlers, we got on a different road to go home (we weren't to stoked about passing the "highjack point" again in the middle of the night). It was a toll road, and even after stopping to eat, waiting in the line of cars to pay our toll made the Bay Bridge Toll Plaza at rush hour look like a walk in the park. When we finally got back to the apartment, it was 4:15 AM, and we crashed as hard as ever, but with the satisfaction that the USA had gotten a vital point against England.

the boys and I after the draw v. England

June 11th - Let the games begin!

After all the anticipation of the entire world for the last four years, the World Cup finally began on June 11, 2010. On that day, the boys, in addition to our friends John and Margie, had tickets to the night game in Cape Town: France v. Uruguay. More on that later. We wanted to make it down to Cape Town beforehand to watch the first game of the tournament on TV: the hosts South Africa v. Mexico.

From where we were located in Somerset West, we drove near Cape Town and stopped at a FIFA park and ride. From there we took the train in to Cape Town. When we arrived in Cape Town the place was buzzing with excitement for the South Africa game. We had to find a place to watch the game.



If you've ever tried to watch the opening game of the World Cup, which always features the hosts, in the country it's being played in, then you know how hard it is to find a good location to watch the game. We arrived later than we would have liked (typically), so we had our work cut out for us. As most bars and restaurants filled up, the best episode we had was when we found an Indian restaurant that had a TV, but it wasn't working. As an interested crowd looked on, the owners tried desperately to make the TV work, but it was not to be.

As we had little time to spare, Margie was busy devising an improvisational solution at a buffet restaurant called Karibu. We grabbed some sofas laying around outside and put them at a bad angle to get a glimpse of South Africa against Mexico.

The entire V&A Waterfront in Cape Town was electric with nervous excitement when the match started. It was a tense match until the 55th minute when South Africa scored. The entire Waterfront (and presumably all of South Africa) went mental when Siphiwe Tshabalala scored a great goal to put the hosts ahead. Unfortunately, South Africa could only manage a draw, which dampened the celebrations in South Africa but did not extinguish them.

Next, we made our way to the brand new Green Point Stadium, located conveniently right next to downtown Cape Town. Getting into the match was a bit of a drag at first, but after deciding to move to another entrance, we got in without much hassle. We had awesome seats as well, so we were all set. Now for my in-depth analysis of this match: it was crap.

We had a long day ahead of us the next day, so we said goodbye to John and Margie and got home early and got some sleep. USA v. England was our next destination, and boy would it take us a long time to get to that match.

June 10th - Table Mountain and fun in Cape Town

Hello all,

Sorry for the delay in the blog. It has been very tough getting online and my last 72 hours have been insane, even by my aggressive sleeping/traveling standards. So I am updating the last few days each with their own blog post, which I will do here in the next couple of days...

On June 10, we made our way to Table Mountain, which is a fantastic plateau that sits right above Cape Town. To get there, you take a tram sort of like a ski gondola up to the top.

the Table Mountain Cable Car from below

The views are amazing from the top of Table Mountain. You can see the city of Cape Town and all its surroundings on a clear day, which we were blessed to have that day.

the view from table Mountain

We had a great time up top just soaking it all in and then we went down into town, where people were celebrating the eve of the World Cup. There was plenty of live music, so it was a lot of fun.



We had a great time that night hanging out with the locals, who have been awesome the whole time. OK, until the next entry...

Robben Island

The gateway to Robben Island

Wednesday morning I got up and went for a 5 mile run in Somerset West. I have been trained by the media to be nervous about being on my own anywhere here, so there was a tiny bit of trepidation about doing the run, but I had a great time of it, as the scenery was fantastic and the locals I encountered were nothing if not friendly.

After the run, the group headed into Cape Town to putter around before our boat trip to Robben Island. At noon Wednesday here in South Africa, everyone in the country was supposed to blow their vuvuzelas (those plastic horns that make a really loud droning noise) in support of "Bafana Bafana" (or "The Boys," the nickname of South Africa's soccer team). There was some minor partying going on around the Waterfront, and we got a chance to see some of the South African fans and also some French fans here ahead of their game with Uruguay on Friday. Fun times. We even encountered some English fans in a pub, who greeted us "Yanks" with their customary rhyming slang term for Americans: "Septic Tanks." All in good fun, as we had a good laugh with the English fans and assured them that they've got their work cut out for them to take 3 points from the USA on Saturday.

South African fans blowing their vuvuzelas

So after a day's wait, we finally made the trip to Robben Island, the site of 18 years of Nelson Mandela's 27 year prison sentence which he served during South Africa's Apartheid regime. The ferry ride from Cape Town Waterfront takes about 35-40 minutes, and it makes the possibility of escape seem very remote (only three have ever escaped in 350 years).

We had a very engaging guide on the bus that led us around the Island. He was a young South African man who identified himself as "colored" in the context of the Apartheid government. He went on to explain the systematic creation of racial divisions created by the philosophy of Apartheid. This was done to ensure that the racial classes that were being oppressed would have slightly different fortunes to each other, and thus would not unite for the (slightly) more privileged classes' fear of losing what little scraps they were being given by the Apartheid government. It was definitely an education for me, and when I return home, I'll have to do more research on Apartheid.

The last part of the tour was guided by a former political prisoner, a man named Ngando who served seven years in the prison from 1984-1991. He told us about life on Robben Island, the awful diet the inmates were given, the squalid living conditions they endured, and some of the torture they were subjected to. All in all an eye-opening experience, and it actually gives me hope to see a man like this who can within a very short space of time see many (definitely not all) of the injustices of his country corrected. As our other guide said earlier, though, South Africa is just recently recovering from a long-standing, deep psychological and physical wound on its culture and citizens, and it will take a very long time before it is healed.

Ngando and I at Robben Island Prison