AMERICA!!! ... lost to Ghana :(

July 1, 2010
In case you need a little refresher, when I last wrote, the following things needed to happen in order for my friends and I to see America play: First, USA had to beat Algeria, preferably 2-0. Second, England had to beat Slovenia, preferably 1-0. Well, both things happened. Our round two game was the game between the US and Ghana.
Unfortunately, I was unable to watch the final group matches for both the US and England… The other teachers at school ALL knew how excited I was for this game and how important it was to me that I see it. The game was on at 4 in the afternoon, and because it was the final group match, they had no problem firing up the generator and projecting it. I slept until around noon that day (Wednesday), and went for a nice run when I woke up. I washed some clothes (before going away for the weekend) and talked with my dad on the phone for a while before I needed to bathe. Soon enough it was 3:55pm and I still heard no generator. This was strange because normally the teacher who is in charge of the generator powers it up at least half an hour before the match. I was perplexed. I grabbed my America bling from the first US match and my vuvuzela and was out the door, looking for this teacher. He wasn’t at his house. He wasn’t in the staffroom. Either of the staffrooms. He wasn’t at the shop in the village. By this point (3:15), I was frantic. One of the most important games was going on and nobody knew where he was or how to get the keys to the generator. Finally, I asked another teacher for his phone number. I called him, only to find out that he was in town. He had gone to town for the day. Livid doesn’t quite accurately describe the shade of red I was seeing. I was so hurt that he didn’t think enough in advance to at least leave the keys with someone else here so we could watch in case he didn’t get back in time!
I ran down to my principal’s place, hoping he had an extra set of keys somewhere, but he was having key difficulties of his own: he had just locked the school truck keys in the ignition and was trying to pry the lock open using a bent coat hanger. When I explained the situation, he got flustered and said. “Now I’m panicking so it is becoming difficult!” I went back home, turned the radio on and tried to calm myself down. Several moments later I heard an engine roar and my principal came tearing up to my house. He had opened the truck and was going to pick up the other teacher so we could see maybe the second half.
As we were flying out of the compound and over the terrible road, the principal called this other teacher, only to find out that he had not yet left town. At this point, over 30 minutes had elapsed. The teacher had told me he was on his way back (before claiming he couldn’t hear me and hanging up), and told another teacher that he was at a point somewhere between my school and town, though closer to MAfeteng. I was under the impression he was on his way home and that we were going to be able to valiantly rescue him from his (probably unnecessarily slow) taxi and drive back to Sekameng to watch the end of the game. There was apparently some miscommunication. He hadn’t left town?! I was beside myself. We were listening to the game on the radio, but somehow Sesotho commentary isn’t quite the same. They would raise their voices and I would frantically look to my principal to see what was happening. By halftime we were waiting in town, trying to get a hold of this teacher… but he “couldn’t hear us” whenever we did call. It seemed he had no intention of making it back for the game. Ugh.
After getting gas in the car, we headed back toward home, listening to second half. He stopped at a small shop to get a loaf of bread right after the US scored their first goal, so I was crossing my fingers and holding my breath for the remaining few minutes home.
If there is one thing to be said for my principal, it is that he is a very happy individual and I really enjoy talking with him. Even though I was sorely disappointed about missing the game, we were engaged in some cheery conversation when my phone rang with a call from a friend (one of my Rustenberg travel buddies)… “Hey, wanna go see the United States play?!” WHOA. It was then that I learned about the goal in stoppage time… I got home and blew my vuvuzela until I couldn’t breathe anymore.
After dinner (and a fair amount of solo dance party celebration), I went up to watch the evening game and guess who was there with the generator already running… Yep.

So it was determined that the United States of America would play Ghana in Rustenberg on Saturday, July 26th at 8:30 pm. And we had tickets.

Thursday brought a trip to town to pick up my license, print some maps and meet up with the other travel buddies. We bought ribbons and paint to dress ourselves up for the match. We had some necklaces and vuvuzelas leftover from the other America games and the trip to Bloem, but nothing was quite red, white and blue enough. We cut, colored and taped everything we could think of… check out the photos on my photo site for the actual evidence.
Friday morning, we packed up and headed out early to get to Bloemfontein, where our lovely little rental car was waiting for us. The workers at the car rental place actually tried to convince the four of us that our car was nowhere large enough for four people and luggage, but after being in Lesotho and dealing with the very crowded taxis (sometimes with 25+ people in a 15-passenger van), we assured them it was plenty spacious and took off for Rustenberg.

Driving on the left side of the road was interesting. It took me a little while to adjust, but as long as I was aware of the fact that I was not driving in America, everything was fine. It was a bit strange to be shifting gears with my left hand; everything sort of felt backwards, like trying to write with my left hand… By the time we had navigated Johannesburg, I was ready for a change, so our other driver took over (first time stick driver!) and did a fantastic job. We made to the hostel shortly after dark, dropped stuff off and went to check out the scene at the Waterfall mall for dinner.

After pacing the food court for maybe 20 minutes (decisions involving more than two choices have become a problem since being in Lesotho), we finally decided on a cute little (knockoff) Italian restaurant (called Milaneza, I mean really), where we got lots of warm, cheesy food and some fresh salads. Although we promised ourselves the biggest piece of rich, chocolate cake, nobody had room, so we went home (with full stomachs and doggy-boxes) to rest up for the next day’s game.

Question: How does one start the day off right when one’s team is going to be playing a Round 2 World Cup game later in the evening? Answer: MUFFINS. The amazing muffin restaurant and coffee shop (actually called Mugg&Bean) exists in more than one mall (aka: it is a chain)! So we had several cups of coffee and amazing muffins (and a bagel) before cruising the mall in search of a flag for Shanthi to wear as a cape. We had seen an American flag in the window of a shop the night before, so we were fairly certain we would be able to find one. No such luck. Finally, Adam went back to the store where we’d seen the flag the previous night, which ended up being a bakery, and talking to the people there. They told him that if we found another flag to hang in its place, they wouldn’t mind swapping flags. Perfect!

Back at the hostel, we snacked and relaxed and got all geared up for the game. Check out the photos on my picasa site for evidence. There was a lot of paint, both face and body, and more red, white and blue than I think I’ve ever seen in my life. We tried to think of things to write on ourselves to get us on TV, and finally decided on Peace Corps, plain and simple. I had it written on my back in tape, as did Eric but Adam had it written on his back in paint…
Getting to the stadium was quite a process. We were able to find signs for the stadium and satellite parking, no problem. We parked and climbed onto a shuttle bus. From far away, the stadium lights were beautiful… (I think I put up a photo of this?) and when we arrived, people were taking our pictures like we were celebrities. It was funny, we could all tell the difference between the true American America fans and any other impostors. The fake fans would all ask Adam whether or not he was cold, while the real ones sang songs like “When the Yanks Come Marching In” and “Sweet Caroline” … We sat in front of two really nice guys from Wisconsin who had seen the US play all their group games. It was really refreshing to find and chat with some other Midwesterners – full speed American English complete with MN/WI references!

The game was awfully exciting, with the exception of the final score. I’m gonna have to refer you to my pictures again at this point, I can’t even begin to describe how incredible it all was.

We didn’t get out until well after midnight and were pretty hungry. By the time we got food (a Combo 8 in some cases, haha) and home, it was well after 2. By the time we washed our faces five times and Adam got a shower, it was past 3am… so of course we made it out of the hostel the next morning by 8am. I was so proud.

To sum up: Road-tripping to Rustenberg was awesome (once Shanthi and Adam made the radio stop changing stations every 30 seconds). Seeing America play was absolutely incredible. I am more proud to be an American now than I have ever been before.

Love from Africa,
-Katie