As I write this post, we are 7 days, 17 hours, 50 minutes and 14 seconds away from kickoff between South Africa and Mexico, the first game of 64 that will be played in this World Cup. Although we’ll be catching that one from a local bar stool, in a mere 14 days Todd and I will be walking into Durban’s Moses Mabhida Stadium to watch Switzerland take on Spain in Group play. It’s been nearly two years of planning and may I just say, HOLY SHIT...it’s finally time, ke nako!
We are mostly prepared for our bazillion-hour flight to Johannesburg and the craziness that will unfold in the month following. Passport: check. Just enough money to be completely broke upon stateside return: check. “Live like you were dying” song stuck in your head: check.
I’ll try to keep this blog regularly updated but until then, here is a really brief overview of our itinerary. Todd and I will get to South Africa first to catch the game in Durban on June 16. We’ll then head out on a six-day guided trip to explore the KwaZulu Natal and Drakensberg regions before heading to Port Elizabeth to meet Kara and Evelyn (friends from New Mexico) for the England v. Slovenia game. From there, the four of us have rented a car to drive down the Garden Route and through wine country on the way to Cape Town where Michelle and Bryan (friends from Chicago) will be. We’ll all see a “round of 16” game and spend a few days touring the Mother City. Next is Johannesburg to watch a quarterfinal (epic), then on to Zimbabwe and Zambia to see some trickle of water called Victoria Falls.
It should be a great adventure so check back often and see what we are up to!
Johannesburg or Bust
We are leaving for the airport in about five minutes; think of us tomorrow morning around 11 am MST as we'll be arriving in Johannesburg. Todd and I got super ambitious and went to the gym this morning. I was watching the Netherlands v. Denmark game on the treadmill and just couldn't believe that we're going to be there in over 24 hours. Quelle vie! Wish us luck on our journey and see you in South Africa.
Winter Solstice
So sorry for the delay in update! We have been busy, well vacation busy anyway, with a guided tour.
We arrived in Johannesburg after 16 hours of movies and mediocre food at about the same time our domestic flight was taking off. Fun! I had chanced it by booking the two flights too close and sure enough, our flight out of Atlanta left almost an hour and a half late. There was a lot of figuring and finagling but we eventually made it to our hostel room in Durban at 3:30 am, a cool 30 hours after taking off from El Paso. The place was a bit "soggy" as I now know Lonely Planet describes it, but at the time it was a bed and we slept hard when we finally got around to it.
The next day was Spain v. Switzerland and all we pretty much had time for was retreiving our tickets and heading to Moses Madiba Stadium. The atmosphere was amazing! Vuvuzela blowing, fans chanting and cheering, flags everywhere—it was just so joyful. Our seats were decent even if they were in close proximity to the world's most annoying American. Think soccer mom, subtract absolutely any knowledge of soccer and then add alcohol. "Run!" "Go!" "Shoot!" He couldn't even sing the Olé Olé song correctly, but I digress.
It was such great fun, especially watching Spain. Despite the loss, they dominated with style. Switzerland had a lot of heart and they really played with a never-say-die toughness. At least that's what I can remember after four or five beers.
The following five days have been filled with game drives, a hippo boat tour, cheetah petting, an overnight with a Zulu family (amazing), horseback riding, hiking and of course watching as many World Cup games as possible. My without a doubt favorite experience so far was spending time with the Ncibilika family so stay tuned as that will be the subject of my next posting.
Today is France v. South Africa and although j'adore France, go Bafana Bafana!
We arrived in Johannesburg after 16 hours of movies and mediocre food at about the same time our domestic flight was taking off. Fun! I had chanced it by booking the two flights too close and sure enough, our flight out of Atlanta left almost an hour and a half late. There was a lot of figuring and finagling but we eventually made it to our hostel room in Durban at 3:30 am, a cool 30 hours after taking off from El Paso. The place was a bit "soggy" as I now know Lonely Planet describes it, but at the time it was a bed and we slept hard when we finally got around to it.
The next day was Spain v. Switzerland and all we pretty much had time for was retreiving our tickets and heading to Moses Madiba Stadium. The atmosphere was amazing! Vuvuzela blowing, fans chanting and cheering, flags everywhere—it was just so joyful. Our seats were decent even if they were in close proximity to the world's most annoying American. Think soccer mom, subtract absolutely any knowledge of soccer and then add alcohol. "Run!" "Go!" "Shoot!" He couldn't even sing the Olé Olé song correctly, but I digress.
It was such great fun, especially watching Spain. Despite the loss, they dominated with style. Switzerland had a lot of heart and they really played with a never-say-die toughness. At least that's what I can remember after four or five beers.
The following five days have been filled with game drives, a hippo boat tour, cheetah petting, an overnight with a Zulu family (amazing), horseback riding, hiking and of course watching as many World Cup games as possible. My without a doubt favorite experience so far was spending time with the Ncibilika family so stay tuned as that will be the subject of my next posting.
Today is France v. South Africa and although j'adore France, go Bafana Bafana!
Jabulani
Through tekweniecotours.co.za, Todd and I seized the opportunity to stay overnight with a Zulu family in the Valley of 1000 Hills. A quick one-hour drive past the rich, predominately white suburbs of Durban, the village of Maphephetheni is a poverty-stricken slap in the face. First stunned by its rollings hills and glistening lakes, the mud huts, clothing lines, gardens and goats come into focus and dot the landscape. Add 12 Ncibilika family members—blankly staring at us—and this is the scene we arrived to mid-morning.
It was a bit awkward at first. Our in-town guide, Tambi, was a bit shy so we were confused by our lack of information (some people spoke broken English but mostly Zulu was used). It made for a very authentic experience and as we kept an open mind, we became more comfortable and able to interact.
It seemed the family consisted of a man and woman elder, two adult daughters, three teenaged to adult sons and four 6 to 10-year-old girls who were possibly cousins and sisters.
The first activity was walking down to the river. It quickly became apparent who we would be spending our time with as all the men stayed behind. Tambi had brought us there to tell the story of a traditional marriage proposal. It was quite an extensive process and took place at the river as it was the main gathering place. After a courtship of figuring who has how many cattle and whether the fine lady is a virgin (you pay more), a proposal is put forth with a bracelet made from grass reeds that are found next to the river.
Tambi showed us how to make them and we weaved as we walked up to the village healer's home. We arrived at a smokey rondavel where a old woman with kind eyes and a warm smile sat waiting and ready to help ill and troubled village people. Tambi explained her role in the community and also had Todd attempt to speak Zulu, which everyone found hilarious.
We walked back to the home and had a very tasty lunch of cabbage, butternut squash, spinach and tomato over corn mash. We ate with our hands because the work on your hands brings flavor to the food. Though a beautiful sentiment, it's actually kind of gross when you think about it.
After lunch and TV time, Petros (our driver) came to take us to a wedding across the village. Oh wow, what to expect? I've never crashed a wedding before let alone a Zulu one. We pulled up to a full-on party. There were flavorful scents in the air, women dressed to the nines and sloppy drunk men everywhere.
We were a bit unsure whether we were welcome or not. Partly because most people don't show up to a wedding uninvited in our culture, but mostly because we were isolated to the area around the car at first. We were brought food, soda and beer but didn't join the party. Alfred (our other guide) later told us that it's customary to put visitors in a separate room and slowly introduce them to the party so I suppose that's what was happening. It took just one guy coming over to talk soccer and soon we were surrounded by people waving and wanting to shake our hands. One guy cornered me and asked for cigarettes, then money and when I refused both he told me, "I love you."
We got to go in and watch the "modern" ceremony that was suprisingly between a 90-year old woman and her grandson. I guess the woman had never had her ring exchange with her husband and now that they finally could, he had already passed. How sad. After a half hour of the unofficial MC preaching and dancing, our party was ready to go. Leaving was a challenge. All 70 or so people there wanted a handshake or hug. It was madness and it was wonderful.
Our next stop was a shebeen, or unlicensed bar. Man it was shady haha. A guy behind a barred window gave us beers and Tambi blasted the juke box. I started dancing and all the little girls (with beer in the bellies as well) copied everything I did. My own little backup dancers!
We headed back to the family home for dinner and to catch the Brazil v. Ivory Coast game (on a dinky 10" TV). During the 90 minutes, almost all of the family had fallen asleep on one of the two beds or on the floor of the rondavel. What an incredible day! It was so special to be able to experience a different culture in such an intimate way.
It was a bit awkward at first. Our in-town guide, Tambi, was a bit shy so we were confused by our lack of information (some people spoke broken English but mostly Zulu was used). It made for a very authentic experience and as we kept an open mind, we became more comfortable and able to interact.
It seemed the family consisted of a man and woman elder, two adult daughters, three teenaged to adult sons and four 6 to 10-year-old girls who were possibly cousins and sisters.
The first activity was walking down to the river. It quickly became apparent who we would be spending our time with as all the men stayed behind. Tambi had brought us there to tell the story of a traditional marriage proposal. It was quite an extensive process and took place at the river as it was the main gathering place. After a courtship of figuring who has how many cattle and whether the fine lady is a virgin (you pay more), a proposal is put forth with a bracelet made from grass reeds that are found next to the river.
Tambi showed us how to make them and we weaved as we walked up to the village healer's home. We arrived at a smokey rondavel where a old woman with kind eyes and a warm smile sat waiting and ready to help ill and troubled village people. Tambi explained her role in the community and also had Todd attempt to speak Zulu, which everyone found hilarious.
We walked back to the home and had a very tasty lunch of cabbage, butternut squash, spinach and tomato over corn mash. We ate with our hands because the work on your hands brings flavor to the food. Though a beautiful sentiment, it's actually kind of gross when you think about it.
After lunch and TV time, Petros (our driver) came to take us to a wedding across the village. Oh wow, what to expect? I've never crashed a wedding before let alone a Zulu one. We pulled up to a full-on party. There were flavorful scents in the air, women dressed to the nines and sloppy drunk men everywhere.
We were a bit unsure whether we were welcome or not. Partly because most people don't show up to a wedding uninvited in our culture, but mostly because we were isolated to the area around the car at first. We were brought food, soda and beer but didn't join the party. Alfred (our other guide) later told us that it's customary to put visitors in a separate room and slowly introduce them to the party so I suppose that's what was happening. It took just one guy coming over to talk soccer and soon we were surrounded by people waving and wanting to shake our hands. One guy cornered me and asked for cigarettes, then money and when I refused both he told me, "I love you."
We got to go in and watch the "modern" ceremony that was suprisingly between a 90-year old woman and her grandson. I guess the woman had never had her ring exchange with her husband and now that they finally could, he had already passed. How sad. After a half hour of the unofficial MC preaching and dancing, our party was ready to go. Leaving was a challenge. All 70 or so people there wanted a handshake or hug. It was madness and it was wonderful.
Our next stop was a shebeen, or unlicensed bar. Man it was shady haha. A guy behind a barred window gave us beers and Tambi blasted the juke box. I started dancing and all the little girls (with beer in the bellies as well) copied everything I did. My own little backup dancers!
We headed back to the family home for dinner and to catch the Brazil v. Ivory Coast game (on a dinky 10" TV). During the 90 minutes, almost all of the family had fallen asleep on one of the two beds or on the floor of the rondavel. What an incredible day! It was so special to be able to experience a different culture in such an intimate way.
A different hotel every night.
After staying with the Ncibilika family, Todd and I traveled to the Southern Berg of the Drakensberg. We did some light hiking with our most awesome guide, Mdu, and got to gallop on horses at Khotso Ranch where we stayed. The region was gorgeous and so different from the coast, not just in scenery, but in culture too. There seemed to be a more fluid blend of races if I'm allowed to say that.
Back in Port Elizabeth, we met Kara on England v. Slovenia game day. The match was a blast, especially after we learned that USA had scored in the 91st minute and got to tell the England fans that they weren't first in group play. Kind of cruel.
The next day began our leisure drive down the coast along the Garden Route to Cape Town. Jeffrey's Bay, Plettenberg Bay, Wilderness and up to Robertson wine country.
Back in Port Elizabeth, we met Kara on England v. Slovenia game day. The match was a blast, especially after we learned that USA had scored in the 91st minute and got to tell the England fans that they weren't first in group play. Kind of cruel.
The next day began our leisure drive down the coast along the Garden Route to Cape Town. Jeffrey's Bay, Plettenberg Bay, Wilderness and up to Robertson wine country.
The Goddess is Surfing
After some peer pressure and maybe a little manipulation, I convinced Kara and Todd to go surfing in Jeffrey's Bay. We were told Dolphin Beach was great for beginners but when we arrived, even I was hesitant. I don't know much about tides but it didn't seem good that the waves were breaking right on the shore. Nevertheless, we gave it a go. It wasn't pretty but it was flippin' fun.
Look Right, Drive Left
On our way to Plettenberg Bay from Jeffrey's Bay we stopped at Tsitsikamma National Park. The place is absolutely breathtaking. In one week, we've gone from tropical beach to snow-capped mountains to Pacific Northwest-like scenery in a country the size of two Texases (Texi?). South Africans are so lucky. We walked a really nice trail to see a suspension bridge that went over the mouth of Storms River.
The people we are meeting on this part of the journey are surprised by our accents. It goes like this, "Where are you from?" (or equally as popular, "From where are you?") "The USA [confused look from person]...America." "Oh yeah, your team is doing well huh? We didn't even know you had soccer."
The people we are meeting on this part of the journey are surprised by our accents. It goes like this, "Where are you from?" (or equally as popular, "From where are you?") "The USA [confused look from person]...America." "Oh yeah, your team is doing well huh? We didn't even know you had soccer."
