World Cup

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Everybody thinks and says how much Africans love football, but I don’t think people really understand this. In, the mornings, I will be going to work and there will be organized games going on. In the afternoon and evenings, every alley has a pack of kids playing pick in pick-up games. These pick up games aren’t played on grass fields with official sized goals, but in sand streets with cinder blocks marking the goals. None of the kids are wearing the newest Nikes or shin guards, that would make any soccer mom flip out, but playing in sandals or barefoot. Their skill is phenomenal. All have the passion to be the best.

I wish I could compare this desire to football to a sport in the States, but it isn’t possible. Sure kids play basketball, baseball, football (American), and soccer in the States, but it is far from the same capacity as seen here. I think the very broad, general explanation for this is that American culture is far different from here.

While I feel that I should, in order to fill my day, I haven’t really been watching too much of the World Cup here. I must be the oddball, because everywhere I go, people are huddled in front of tiny TVs and radios watching and listening to the games. I would almost compare it to the focus on the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, but up it a notch or two.

With my newfound determination to do more than just work, I decided to watch the U.S – Ghana World Cup match. All the games are broadcast live for the most part here in Senegal on the national network and on the radio. Also, this national network is the only channel most people get. The US – Ghana match was at 2 pm today.

I knew that I wanted to watch the game at a bar, so after work, I went on a bar hunt. Bars, unlike in the States (or at least Athens for that matter), are a little harder to come by. The first bar, which is near the hospital had all its chairs up, so instead of investigating more, I left and headed to Patte D’Oie (my neighborhood). I got on the bus and decided to experiment with a different route, which I don’t recommend. Needless to say, I did a little walking. Finally, I made it to my area of town right around 2 pm. The first bar I want to, which is the one I really wanted to check out, was closed. I walked down the street to the nightclub, where I watched another match, and it was closed. By this point, I was hot and sweaty and was about to give up on the World Cup and a cold beer. I did a little thinking and decided to jump on a car rapide and head to Libertie VI as my last option. Across from the Peace Corps regional house, there is a bar that I could only hope was open.

At 2:30, I made it and it was open. I was nearly at a crawl when I entered the door. Not to my surprise, I was the only American in there. Because Senegal didn’t make the World Cup, Senegalese I believe cheer for any African team. It is really a cool thing to see. This is weird to me because if the US wasn’t in it, would Americans be cheering for Canada (didn’t qualify) or Mexico. Actually, I don’t know many Americans that would really care.

The game went on and it wasn’t looking good for the Americans. I shared in some laughs with the handful of others (more middle aged) there to watch the game. By the end of it, they almost had me cheering for Ghana. In cases like this, where the environment isn’t hostile and you are obviously different, it really is a cool feeling.

Now that I look back at it, it was nice to go and relax, have a beer or two, and be welcomed by those there. It is something that I haven’t really done in the big city yet. Also, I’m trying to recall in my 23, almost 24 years of life, if I’ve ever gone to a bar by myself, I don’t think I have, although, I came close in the mountains a few times. I can just see my mom now reading this and saying, “He did what…he went to a bar by himself…I’m worried about him.” That is far from how it is.