Having mastered the local transit systems yesterday we decided to spend the day at the Durban Fanfest zone, which happened to be on the beach. We caught a bus down to a transfer point, then Micah and I decided to walk while the Ortiz boys opted for another cab to shuttle them the remaining 1.5 km. Before we even got out of the bus transfer area we found ourselves conversing with some event staff ladies, which lead to a good thirty minute conversation about anything and everything: languages spoke, education, race, all kinds of good conversation, not just small talk. After we snatched a number, offers for giving us a tour so we could “REALLY see Durban,” and offers at places to stay, we left. Never mind that the majority of those offers came from their manager, who was a guy. Regardless, the girls were excited to now have American friends and we took a bunch of pictures together. Comically, while grouping up to take the pic Micah and I were on the outside and all of the girls were in middle. One of them didn’t like the arrangement, grabbed our arms to pull us into the group and said, “Come on, we must mix the thorns amongst the roses.”
The walk to the fanfest was certainly an experience. As soon as we broke those girls’ hearts so we could get to the beach we ran in to a shopping mall since I forgot my sunscreen back at the house, curse of the Irish skin. It was a decent sized shopping mall, think Lloyd Center or Stonestown, and Micah and I were in there for a good five to ten minutes and we were the only white people in there, certainly a new experience for me. Also along our walk, we passed a wall with graffiti-looking paint running the length, which ended up being paintings of South Africa’s rights. Way cool.
First priority once we got to the fanzone, which was literally on the beach, was to hop in the Indian Ocean. Mission accomplished. Mission two: find beer. Mission accomplished. Micah and I met back up with Marcos and Carlos and watched the Italy vs New Zeland game, which was rather exciting. What was most exciting was how I’ve been hoping Italy finishes second in their group, which would mean that’s who we get to watch Holland play in our fourth game. I’d thought all along that Italy would easily win their group, but now it’s looking like there’s a good chance we’ll be seeing them play Holland in Durban next week.
The fanfest was pretty cool, but not the chaotic wild parties like I remember seeing on TV in past World Cup’s. Never the less, it was a fun time. The main focal point of our day was to watch the Brazil vs Ivory Coast game at the casino. We’d talked to a local guy last night who informed us that his son claimed the casino was the place to watch games. Apparently that’s where all the Brazilian chicks hung out. We figured it was at least worth a look. Sun Coast Casino is Caesar’s Palace, I think they were even less pager friendly than the not-so-real Caesar’s Palace. Micah had told me earlier on the trip, maybe even before we’d left the states, that Durban had the largest Indian (red dot) population outside of India. I’d noticed there were quite a few Indian’s around, but it was very clear once we got to the casino that they made up the majority of the population. The casino had a mini fanfest type area set up outside of the casino, which is where we watched the first half of the match. The vuvuzelas proved to be more than we were willing to deal with so we went back inside and found a sports bar to watch the second half of the game. Our bartender was pretty funny, he told us he knew all about America, then proceeded to tell us about Reggie Bush and the Kardashians. Pretty funny, apparently that’s who defines us as a nation. Oh, and he knew Obama was a basketball fan and put a basketball court in the White House.
The highlight for the day came once we got off the shuttle bus back at our car. As I stepped off the bus I took note of how pleasant of an evening it was, no wind, clear sky, about 65 degrees or so, perfect. Then I realized all the event staff volunteers were staring at me in my shorts, sandals and Brazil jersey. A drastic difference from their down jackets with sherpa lined hoods (which they had pulled over their heads), scarves wrapped around their necks, skiing gloves, long pants, and they appeared to be shivering and dancing around to stay warm. This morning Micah made some comment to the owner of the place we’re staying in regards to the weather, Micah implying it was nice, to which the owner, dressed in pants and a sweater apposed to our shorts and t-shirts, immediately started in on how cold it was and this is the coldest its ever been. Crazy Africans.
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