The past five weeks have jostled every aspect of my previous idea of what it means to be a volunteer; I have struggled with balancing the act of working with the poor and then spending a night on the beach front watching games on the largest tv screen imaginable. The past five weeks have flipped my work schedule upside down and then for good measure shaken it around a bit. They have put strain on my bank account and sleeping patterns and pulled my community in a million different directions.
The last five weeks have also encouraged a special unity within my community; nurturing our relationships with each other and the friends we have met here. They have also made me fall even more in love with the Ubuntu Nation and the ease and grace with which South Africa has completed the task of being the host city.
I had initial reservations about the challenges that went behind hosting such a large scale event. Despite a few hiccups, whose importance I do not miscalculate [namely the death of three local children and the missing report of another] I give a hearty congratulations to South Africa for a job very well done.
I have fallen in love with the fans of this sport. Their allegiance to respective countries, their fervour for the game, and most visible- their devotion to dress.
From German fans sporting the ever interestingly tight lederhosens or Australians in good Steve Irwin fashion donning all khaki everything and hats with corks hanging from the brim. Or fans from Ghana wrapped in four piece elaborate patterned traditional beaded outfits, Japanese men and women with full white body paint and a red dot on their forehead, Mexicans and Brazilians hidden behind elaborate (and borderline scary) facemasks
, South Africans in a sea of yellow and green or in a unitard showcasing the South African flag colors 
and Portugal’s dedicated fans with little to no clothes on despite cold temperatures. On numerous occasions I myself had the honor of wearing red, white and blue
or turning the United States flag into a dress (the thought of prison time and defacement of the flag was a fleeting thought, but was overridden by my desire to be a loyal fan.) I was able to sing alongside hundreds of other fellow Americans as our National Anthem played a moment that as a proud American I will forever cherish.
I was also able to proudly support South Africa, wearing my yellow and green Bafana jersey and dancing like crazy with hoards of other fans as "Africa" (I bless the rains down in Africa) by Toto played.
The people regardless of the team they were supporting have made this experience magical for me. There is a word in the Zulu cuture, “Ubuntu” which has come to define my year here. Its literal meaning “I am because you are” has been showcased over and over though out these five weeks.
In conjunction with a theoretical FIFA red carpet being rolled out on opening day, it is my opinion that on June 11th South Africans also unveiled the Ubuntu carpet and have kept it in the spotlight since. It has been emotional to witness my neighbors come together as a country. Not as self titled white South Africans or black South Africans or Indian South Africans, but rather as unified peoples under one name: South Africans.
I have fallen in love over and over with the unity present. From the South African flags adoring every side mirror on every car, to the Bafana Bafana Fridays where every single person myself included has been adorned head to toe in yellow and green.
I feel so proud to tell people that NO I am not here just for the world cup, I live here or to join the masses at the fan park as the National Anthem is being played. I was overwhelmed with pride as Bafana Bafana tied Mexico in the World Cup opener. I cried tears of joy alongside white – black – colored- young – old – rich –and poor as they beat France and tears of sadness as they were defeated by Uruguay.
I fell madly in love with South Africa as I saw more then ever, Ubuntu at its finest when South Africans after not qualifying to move on continued to be a part of the tournament and united behind Ghana as a continent of proud Africans.
Being here I have often found myself reading Wayne Visser’s poem “I am African.” On an average day his words put me at ease giving me meaning and connecting me to this continent. During the last five weeks of the world cup his words resonated in me everything I feel about my time here.
“I am an African
Not because I was born there
But because my heart beats with Africa’s…
I am an African
Not because my skin is black
But because my mind is engaged by Africa
I am an African
Not because I live on its soil
But because my soul is at home in Africa
When Africa weeps for her children
My cheeks are stained with tears
When Africa honours her elders
My head is bowed in respect
When Africa mourns for her victims
My hands are joined in prayer
When Africa celebrates her triumphs
My feet are alive with dancing
I am an African
For her blue skies take my breath away
And my hope for the future is bright
I am an African
For her people greet me as family
And teach me the meaning of community
I am an African
For her wildness quenches my spirit
And brings me closer to the source of life
When the music of Africa beats in the wind
My blood pulses to its rhythm
And I become the essence of sound
When the colours of Africa dazzle in the sun
My senses drink in its rainbow
And I become the palette of nature
When the stories of Africa echo round the fire
My feet walk in its pathways
And I become the footprints of history
I am an African
Because she is the cradle of our birth
And nurtures an ancient wisdom
I am an African
Because she lives in the world’s shadow
And bursts with a radiant luminosity
I am an African
Because she is the land of tomorrow
And I recognise her gifts as sacred”
Today, Sunday July 11th the day of the final 2010 World Cup game I am overcome with emotion. Awe at the execution, fondness for the game, pride for each culture, love for the people and beyond everything I feel blessed for the opportunity to say that I was there, in South Africa, in the stadium, on the beach front at the fan park.
(Durban on the left, stadium in the middle, ocean and pier on the right)
I am obsessed with that poem now!!!
ReplyDeleteGlad the poem resonates. Thanks for sharing your heartfelt feelings about the continent :)
ReplyDeleteWayne Visser