Scary stories from a lovely place
This time last year I posted this rather bland piece of writing about the beginning of the World Cup in South Africa. My poor blogging performance was obviously due to the fact that I had been a new mother for 12 days and was trying to deal with the Silas bombshell of pain, no sleep and knowing that life would never go back to how it was.
However, life after the World Cup did continue as normal for South Africa. Stories of corruption in the government, crime in homes, inadequate public transport and rising unemployment continued in the media. Happy South Africans continued to love living in their difficult country.
Apparently the popularity of local soccer has soared after the World Cup. I’m not sure what else has changed. I do know that the governments of some provinces, mainly the Eastern Cape – home to Nelson Mandela Bay Stadium, are more financially strapped than before. I’m sure as part of the bidding process FIFA promises immense economic growth and positive social change for the host nation. I’m not sure if that’s true. Who would believe what FIFA say anyway? If anyone’s proven to be more corrupt than the South African government it’s Sepp and his gang of football administrators.
It was a cool experience though. Watching the first game on the ‘big screen’ at my church was my first outing since Silas’ birth. I was pretty tired and tender. Stephen was paranoid all the vuvuzela’s would damage poor Silas’ tiny, soft eardrums.
But there was a cool vibe and a cliched sense of unity as all different kinds of South Africans and foreigners watched Bafana draw with Mexico.
Good times in Jozi.