As the World Cup ends, a new South Africa emerges

The games are over and it’s back to my usual program of travel features, food shows, and silly sitcoms on cable TV. Like many Pinoys, I’m not really a big fan of football (or soccer as our American-influenced schools call it), but ever since I saw the opening of the World Cup in South Africa last month and discovered that I could watch the matches for free on my limited subscription, I found myself getting hooked on the series, and no, it’s not because of those hunky players (although that helped too). You see, back in my previous incarnation as a freelance environmental reporter, I was invited to cover the World Summit on Sustainable Development (the so-called Rio+10) in Johannesburg in 2002. As I watched the games and news features about South Africa on television, images from that week-long trip came flooding back, as vivid as the colors of the buzzing vuvuzelas on the screen.

With the huge number of delegates to the conference, hotels were overbooked and so our group of six journalists from developing countries in Asia, Africa, and South America along with our German journalism trainer had to stay in a modest house in the suburbs. We were told this was a trend in South Africa – empty nesters converting their houses into guest lodges when their children leave home to pursue their own careers. It seemed to me though that this reflected the lifestyle of white South Africa, as we would discover with each passing day, rather than much of the historically divided nation. Getting up from our comfy beds in cozy country-style rooms, we were treated to a hearty breakfast every morning, often with a cup of the local rooibos tea that I learned to like during our stay. A roomy van, also owned by Dutch descendants just like our lodging house, fetched our group and took us the conference center daily. Due to the high crime rate, our sponsor dissuaded us from taking local transport – a warning I remembered when I read about the problems that tourists were having with petty theft at the start of the World Cup. As a result, we were chauffeured around the city the whole time, something that made me uneasy as I watched most of the local population crammed into decrepit buses, which hardly had any white face in them. From our van, I could see Afrikaner and Indian professionals driving the cars zipping by. World Cup commentators often describe South Africa as the “rainbow nation" but eight years ago, it was easy to see the tensions among the various ethnic groups even after a decade of post-apartheid existence. Aside from transport and housing, the aftermath of the protests against colonial rule was very much evident in the battered city center. Our Afrikaner driver-cum-tour guide pointed out the barricaded and bullet-riddled buildings with broken windows in downtown Johannesburg. There was laundry flapping in the wind of some buildings that had been taken over by illegal settlers. The scene was far removed from the swanky conference center in the outskirts where international delegates had gathered for the summit we were covering at the time. Somehow, it reminded me of the pockmarked buildings in Makati during one of those failed coup attempts against the Cory government in the 1980s. In the sprawling settlement of Soweto, we visited a modern museum that had exhibits depicting the riots and other highlights of the country’s stormy history. There were dramatic photos of a child whose killing sparked violent rallies in the streets of Soweto, and an extensive display about the slain resistance leader Steve Biko. (Back then I remember thinking, we should have something like this in the Philippines to remind the younger generation about the horrible sins of the Marcos family and their cronies during Martial Law. We heap so much praise on the EDSA people power revolt, but do people still remember why there had to be such an uprising in the first place?) I had often heard Soweto described as a shantytown, and so I imagined something similar to Tondo in Manila or Agdao in Davao – or just about any other squatters’ area in the Philippines. To my surprise, Soweto had dusty but properly laid out roads with a good number of large houses amid scenes of dire poverty (think District 9, if you saw the movie). I distinctly recall what seemed like the fortress of the controversial Winnie Mandela with CCTV cameras in front, the better to ward off pesky media perhaps? In contrast, the Mandela house that had been turned into a museum was humbling in its simplicity. It was so small that our group had to take turns entering the rooms, yet we were conscious all the while that a great man lived here and we were fortunate enough to have breathed his existence. Afro-pop and good beer But it was not all racial tensions and history lessons that occupied our time in Joburg, as the locals affectionately call South Africa’s major city. Most evenings, we found ourselves quaffing beer and listening to African pop music in bars, often with a plate of peri peri chicken on the table. Upon the insistence of our German mentor, who had some Dutch lineage, we chose a particular brand that was “brewed the proper way," at least in his culture. I’m sure my Belgian priest-friends would disagree, but that’s just how it is when it comes to beer. I’ve forgotten the brand, but I can still remember the twist-off caps -- no need for bottle openers there. Once, we were invited to the home of a stylish African colleague we had met in previous conferences. She and her husband represented one of the few university-educated couples we had met during our visit. We checked out her impressive shoe collection (boots, especially) and sampled a home-cooked meal in her tastefully decorated town house. The conversation revolved around the changes in South Africa in recent decades. I’m one of those students whose brains went blank during world history classes, so I was surprised to learn that a good 10 per cent of the country’s population came from India. As all Indians and South Africans probably know, the most famous of them was Mahatma Gandhi, whose quest for social justice began when he experienced racial discrimination as a lawyer working in Durban and Pretoria. Another time, our group had lunch at a popular local restaurant beside the house of Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who was ill at the time and was not accepting visitors. The Nobel peace laureate has recovered since then, and in a book about Gandhi, he explains the concept of Ubuntu, the name given to the parallel village exhibits during the 2002 environmental summit. Bishop Tutu describes ubuntu as an African concept “perfectly captured by the phrase ‘me we’ ... We need other human beings in order to be human." Back then, the philosophy did not quite sink in, and the memory that stuck in my head is that my visit to the Ubuntu village was one of the highlights of my stay. Since our group neither had the time nor the money to go on safari, I had to settle for ethnic weaves and wine bottle stoppers sold in colorful stalls as my souvenirs of the Big Five (lion, leopard, elephant, buffalo, and rhino) that we didn’t get to see during the trip. Playing fair But ubuntu came back to mind when I saw Bishop Tutu on TV dancing with other South Africans at the start of the World Cup last June. It was an uplifting sight, a message of hope for people everywhere who often think positive change and good things will never come to a country that has suffered for so long. The closing ceremony last July 11 (early hours of July 12 in the Philippines) was another much-awaited event as many viewers tuned in to see if the 91-year old Nelson Mandela would make an appearance. He did not disappoint, smiling and waving to the huge crowd at the stadium. Watching him on television, I was reminded of the unanimous praise for Mr. Mandela by all the people we met in Joburg, native Africans and Afrikaner settlers and Indian immigrants alike. He unified everyone, and South Africa is certainly what it is today because of the ubuntu or humanity of Nelson Mandela. (Looking at him all bundled up in warm clothes and hat, I also recalled the chilly nights in Joburg when we were there towards the end of August. Before the trip, my image of Africa often consisted of heat and the desert, so it was surprising to find out it was as seasonally cold as many parts of Europe or America.) With all those memories, it was not easy making a choice between Spain and Netherlands during the final match. We had many bad experiences under Spain in the course of Philippine history, in the same way that the people in what is now South Africa also suffered a lot from Dutch colonizers. But in the end, the playing styles of the two teams made it a no-brainer to go for Spain. Watching the repeated footage of No. 8 pounding his shoe on the chest of a Spanish player, it seemed to me the Dutch got their comeuppance. Until they learn to play fair, or take the principle of ubuntu to heart (a long stretch, as it seems to be the total opposite of the “Dutch treat" concept), Netherlands will probably keep on reaching the finals without ever winning the World Cup. Next to Spain, the big winner in the World Cup is the host country, with most commentators describing the games as “an unqualified success." Like other travelers who have seen the country’s seamy side, I was a little skeptical about its ability to host a major international event, but South Africa pulled it off. I’m waiting to see what the spanking new stadiums will attract next time, and how the country will leverage its new-found reputation to bring in more travelers. – GMANews.TV