Leaving O.R. Tambo

After our tour of Soweto, it was time to go. Here is video of the scene at the international departures terminal at O.R. Tambo International Airport. It was a vibe unlike that of any other airport I'd ever been to. They put on one last-ditch, tempting effort to get us to stay.

Quick historical tidbit: the airport is named after Oliver Tambo, friend and law partner of Nelson Mandela. The two founded the ANC Youth League in 1943 and the first black-owned law firm in the early 50's. The government banned him for five years in 1959, so the ANC sent him to London to mobilize international opposition to apartheid. He didn't return to South Africa until 1991--over 30 years in exile. He died in 1993.

Bill and I were satisfied that we extracted all that we could have out of this particular trip. However, there were many, many stones left unturned. Just a few possible future trip ideas:

• Cape Town + Robben Island + wine country + big game parks + Garden Route coastline
• Kruger National Park
• Free State battlefields commemorating the Boer wars and Zulu Nation
• Sun City
• Diamond mines of Kimberley

Madiba

Soweto's favorite son Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela is South Africa's George Washington and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one. Every single person with whom we spoke about Mandela talked about him in awestruck, reverent tones. They commonly refer to him as "Madiba," his Xhosa honorary title. Legend, icon, revolutionary, Nobel Peace Prize winner, world-historical, Great Man: all the above apply.
It was great that he had a chance to make an appearance (above) at Soccer City Stadium prior to the World Cup final. He missed the opening ceremony a month earlier because, that morning, a drunk driver killed his 13-year-old great-granddaughter. So his Cup was one of sadness and ambivalence, simultaneously proud for his country and aching for his family. He certainly deserved the overwhelming cheer he received from the crowd.
During our tour of Soweto, Bill and I had the opportunity to visit his humble house on the corner of Vilakaze and Ngakane Streets in Orlando West, just blocks down the hill from the Hector Pieterson Museum, site of the 1976 student uprising. Perhaps not coincidentally, Vilakaze Street is also home to Archbishop Desmond Tutu, making it the only street in the world to claim two Nobel Peace Prize winners. And, I have to say, it is a pretty peaceful and lively place.
Today, the government-issue, "matchbox" house--complete with corrugated aluminum roof!--to which Madiba moved in 1946 is now the site of the Mandela Family Museum. Outside is a newly-created brick courtyard featuring quotations from his writings and speeches...
Our tour guide LOVES Obama and fist-bumped us immediately upon learning we are American...
More quotes, this from a 1977 letter to his wife Winnie...
Here's what he wrote from prison in 1976 upon getting word of the student uprising...
This is the tree out front where the Mandela family buried the umbilical cords of all their newborns to bring them luck and connect them to one another (or something like that)...
The bullet hole below (now filled in by the restoration project) is one of many in the exterior wall of the house courtesy of the police. They spent years setting up shop on the corner opposite the house and firing rounds at it, breaking windows and terrifying those inside. This continued well after Nelson went to prison; they considered Winnie just as subversive. Note that the wall outside the children's room bore the brunt of the police attacks...
Having been restored for museum traffic, the interior of the house has just four small rooms, each of them containing interesting pictures and artifacts from his life and work. They asked us not to take pictures inside. If I could have, I would have taken pictures of Sugar Ray Leonard's world championship boxing belt, a gift from the boxer to Madiba. Also in there were many letters from universities in the United States, particularly historical black colleges, congratulating him on his release from prison or his election as president.

There was an early-1990's resolution from the legislature of the State of Michigan apologizing for the CIA's role in ratting out Mandela's location to the apartheid regime in 1962, leading to his arrest and eventual incarceration. We had no idea such a seeming betrayal had taken place, so at first we were aghast that our government would do such a thing. Then we saw a photo on the wall of Mandela cozying up to Fidel Castro and the puzzle pieces started to fall into place. Hey! Long lost Comrade!
The United States, in the era of the Cold War and the Cuban Missile Crisis, viewed Mandela as both a terrorist--he was a founder and leader of the ANC's militant wing, Umkhonto we Sizwe--and a communist. Therefore, he represented an important African communist "domino," and a threat to American interests in the region. Also, in the year 1962, the US was still in the early stages of the civil rights movement at home. Martin Luther King, Jr. had not yet declared that he had a dream, and the National Party's apartheid regime was not yet the international pariah it would become. The American relationship with apartheid South Africa was relatively friendly, and the two nations did not hesitate to engage in Realpolitik, where the ends justified the means.

Yada yada yada...militant tendencies...27 years in prison...government in exile...yada yada...peaceful transition of power...Nobel Prize...yada yada...elected president...yada yada...global icon...yada yada...World Cup...and he shows up at Soccer City.

Felicitaciones, España!

It's all over. As you're probably aware, Arsenal's Cesc Fabregas found elven Barcelona midfielder Andres Iniesta sneaking past the Dutch back line and found the back on the net in the 116th minute to win the World Cup. It made for an exciting end to a pretty ugly game, with 14 yellow cards and plenty of diving and flopping. I'm not sure soccer earned any new fans today. But Andres Iniesta never has to buy a drink in Spain again. So he's got that going for him. Here's the goal...

Felicitaciones a la gente al restaurante Casa Juancho en Miami y todos de nuestros amigos españoles. Campeones del Mundo! La gente en Madrid...

In related news, El Pulpo Paul continued his run of perfection. Now he's on to bigger and better things. Next up, he is going to advise on the European debt crisis, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and the US mid-term elections. Then he's going to Goldman Sachs.

Facebook's World Cup Data

Take a moment to check out this cool interactive look at Facebook status update data during this year's World Cup, courtesy of the New York Times. (Hat tip Shel.) I love when people find innovative ways to make large amounts of information digestible. A couple of takeaways:

• The little graphs for each player are really neat. You can tell exactly what time Landon Donovan scored for the US against Algeria on 6/23.
  
• Portugal's Cristiano Ronaldo is featured significantly throughout the tournament--he's #1 as late as July 9--even though he did virtually nothing during the Cup.
• Very few African players cracked the top spots in any given day. Probably due to the relative lack of Internet access penetration in Africa.
  

Soweto's Underbelly

The first place in Soweto where we disembarked from Alan's car was a decrepit section with dirt streets and no running water. It was abject poverty on par with what I had only previously witnessed in the Philippines and Cambodia. It is very humbling to visit such a place as a well-to-do westerner. You immediately feel "expensive" as you become conscious of the watch on your wrist, the cell phone in your pocket, the camera attached to your belt, and the sneakers on your feet. At first, we were a little unsure as to how secure it would be, but Alan and our subsequent neighborhood guide (whose name escapes me, but he is pictured below in the Bafana Bafana jersey talking with Bill) assured us we would be okay, and that it was okay to take pictures. So pictures we took.
Our guide first took us to the tiny Embizweni day care center/school for young children, from 2-10 years old. Here's the sign out front...
The children's artwork on the wall...
The scant books, toys, dinosaurs, and other educational supplies...
The woman who runs the day care center asked us to sign a guest book and make a donation. She says that almost all of their funding comes from donations from tourists. Now we knew why this was our first stop--it was an excellent opportunity for these people to separate Bill and me from our rand. We were fine with that, and we agreed to her request willingly because this place needed the money.

Down the street from the day care, this house has corn and other crops growing in the front yard...
A woman getting water from the neighborhood well...
It was a Saturday, so all the kids in the neighborhood were out in the street playing. This little guy hammed it up for the camera...
A couple of girls...
A youngster juggling a soccer ball...
Much of the country's soccer talent comes from streets like these in Soweto. Indeed, not too far away from this neighborhood, Nike built an immaculate multi-million-dollar training center (um, priorities?). The best players go on to play for Bafana Bafana and professionally for the local Soweto club teams: the fantastically-named Kaizer Chiefs or their arch-rival Orlando Pirates. These teenagers were kicking it around...
This group of guys thought strategically when they noticed I had taken their picture. Once I snapped it they asked to see it in my camera. When I let them, they used the opportunity at close proximity to ask for a few rand to get something to eat. We gave out a few rand to several of them...
At the top of the street, where Alan was parked, this guy and several colleagues were selling both vuvuzelas and their handmade art. Bill and I both bought small handmade stone sculptures, and I also picked up a handmade beaded figurine blowing a vuvuzela.
Everyone we met in this neighborhood was as nice and as welcoming as anybody we met throughout our trip. The living conditions have not affected their spirits. We asked Alan what was the number one thing that Soweto needed to pull all of its people out of poverty and into the middle class, and he responded, "Housing." While many parts of Soweto are nicer, there are simply too many people living like we saw in this neighborhood who will have a very difficult time creating a better life for themselves. The poverty we witnessed is both an ugly legacy of apartheid and a major challenge facing the South African government.

Yes We Can

Every black person (and many white people) we met brought up President Obama as soon as they found out we are American. Or they just wanted to fist-bump us, as was the case with our tour guide at Nelson Mandela's house (more on that later). Obama is clearly revered throughout the continent. Many of them mentioned him in the same breath as Nelson Mandela. We responded by agreeing that what Obama symbolizes is extraordinary, but warning that his reality is that he has a very difficult job right now, his poll numbers are sinking, and he may not get re-elected. Hey, not to be a jerk, but that's the reality, and people need to hear it.

Obama also has a place in American soccer fan culture. We saw numerous hand-made signs declaring "Yes We Can!" at the games. We even chanted it during the second half of the USA-Slovenia game. I suppose most US soccer fans are from blue states, or at least fit the Democrats' worldview more than the Republicans'.

Picks for the Final Weekend

My quarterfinal and semifinal picks were lousy. I got half right both rounds. Listening to me is no different than consulting a flipped coin. It makes no difference, but I have Deutschland in the 3rd-place game and Nederland in the final. Yep, "Hup Holland!" I agree with what comedian Drew Carey said on NPR last night from Cape Town, that Spain is his head's pick, and Holland is his heart's. I'll go with heart.

One fellow you probably should pay attention to, if you aren't already, is Paul the Octopus. A resident of Oberhausen, Germany's Sea Life aquarium, Paul has somewhat absurdly garnered worldwide media attention by correctly picking each of the games Germany has been involved with, including their losses to both Serbia and Spain. After the Spain loss, German fans reportedly posted death threats on his Facebook page (where 2,667 people say they "like" him as of this morning), threatening to turn him into sushi. But as they say, "Don't eat the messenger." On the other hand, Spaniards have adopted him as their own, adoringly gushing over "El Pulpo Paul." Here's the video of Paul picking Spain to win the final (he also picked Germany over Uruguay)...

Note all of the clicking in the background from a phalanx of international photographers documenting this international news event, which was broadcast live throughout Europe.

If mollusks don't do it for you, Mani, a parakeet from Singapore, has weighed in with his pick of Holland in the final...

Sadly, Mani does not appear to have a Facebook page.

June 16, 1976

Alan grew up on the west side of the Orlando Township. In June, 1976, he was a 16-year-old student at Orlando West High School, just around the corner from Nelson Mandela's house. Here's a drive-by picture of the high school...not the nicest neighborhood, but not bad for Soweto...
For a time during apartheid, Black schools taught in English and one of nine Bantu languages. Parents chose which Bantu language they wanted their child to learn. In 1974, the National Party issued the Afrikaans Medium Decree, which marginalized the Bantu influence in the schools by forcing all black schools to conduct their instruction in Afrikaans and English, 50-50. The indigenous languages could only be used for religious studies, music, and PE. The blacks resented the decree strongly, viewing Afrikaans as the language of their oppressors. To them, this was the final straw, the "cherry on top" of a host of racist policies, underfunding, and mistreatment in the black educational system.

By 1976, the tension had reached a fever pitch. The students of Orlando West High School drafted and signed a memorandum indicating they would refuse to come to school if Afrikaans was to be implemented according to the 1974 decree. On June 16, they boycotted school en masse and began marching the memorandum to the police station, more than two miles away. Here is a photograph of their march...Alan was one of these kids...
Before the students could get to the police station, the Army started dropping teargas and sending in anti-riot vehicles. Students threw rocks at police. The police responded with gunfire. According to Alan, all hell broke loose and everybody started scrambling. In the melee, a 13-year-old boy named Hector Pieterson was killed by a policeman's bullet...
The iconic photo of Mbuyisa Makhubu carrying Hector Pieterson's lifeless body was transmitted around the world and served as a visual symbol of the apartheid regime's cruelty. The event served as a key turning point in the struggle against apartheid. Until that time, the struggle had been fought by ANC leaders in exile in the neighboring countries of Rhodesia, South West Africa, and Angola. After June 16, the insurgency became internal as well, forcing the ruling regime to fight it on two fronts. Never again was the state able to attain the peace and stability of the early 70's. The U.N. issued a resolution condemning the apartheid regime, and international activism had a rallying cry. Twenty years later, the BBC went so far as to title a documentary, "The Day Apartheid Died." (More at Wikipedia.)

As for Alan, with the blessing of his parents, he risked his life to escape the chaos in Orlando and headed to another city 400km away to live with relatives until the violence dissipated enough for him to return.
Today, the area where Hector Pieterson lost his life has been turned into a first-class memorial and three-story multimedia historical museum. As befits its historical significance, it is by far the nicest block in Soweto, as far as we could tell. The courtyard out front has a fountain heading down the hill towards the police station in the distance, with stone inscriptions and photographs of the event.
Bill and I found it remarkable that, in the space of 48 hours, we had met a participant in the student uprising (Alan) and a member of the apartheid regime's Citizens' Active Force (Sinterklaas). We got first-hand accounts of both extremes of the recent history of South Africa. Wow.

February 11, 1990

In the car on the way to Soweto, Alan gave us his perspective on February 11, 1990, the day the ruling National Party released Nelson Mandela from prison. To jog your memory, here's the BBC newscast from that day...

At the time, he was about 30 years old, working at the Ponte City Apartments, the tallest building in Johannesburg, pictured here...
The huge news spread like a roadside brushfire through the city. When it reached Alan's workplace, he and his co-workers headed to the roof of their building to celebrate. As they looked out over Johannesburg, all they could see were black faces taking to the streets in sheer rapture. The warm summer sky opened up and the rain poured down, but the masses were undaunted. They just removed their shirts and danced. Alan said it was one of the best days of his life.

Soweto: Intro

On the advice of Bill's friend "UK Dave" who had lived in Johannesburg, we arranged a tour of Soweto through the hotel concierge. She hooked us up with a man named Alan who picked us up at the hotel and drove us around for four hours. We thought we had gotten plenty of exposure to the Afrikaner side of South Africa; it was time to learn more about the Bantu perspective. Alan grew up in the Orlando township of Soweto and knows the whole area very well.
Soweto is a syllabic abbreviation for SOuth WEstern TOwnships, a large collection of various townships southwest of Johannesburg. About 1.3 million people live in Soweto, and in places it stretches as far as the eye can see.
The Soweto townships first sprang up in the period after gold was discovered in Johannesburg in 1886. Very quickly, Johannesburg itself went from a small outpost to a bustling white metropolis, and the townships became the place where the black, Indian, and "coloured" mine workers were forced to live after being evicted by city and state authorities. Under apartheid (1948-1994), the ruling regime accelerated the development of the townships, including separating the various ethnic groups (Sotho, Xhosa, Zulu, etc.) into so-called "independent homelands." The government funded all of the housing, much of it uniformly crappy, with the telltale corrugated aluminum roofing found on crappy housing the world over. Here is an example...
One thing that strikes you about Soweto is the air. As is the case elsewhere in South Africa, including along the N3 south to Durban, there is burning grass alongside many roads, creating a distinctive hazy light against the otherwise bright, sunny winter sky. We asked Alan why they don't try to put them out, and he responded, "Nah, we just let them burn." Apparently, they are started intentionally to control the growth of the wild grasses. Lawnmower anyone? We still didn't get it.
Overall, Soweto is a fascinating place. Several Soweto-related entries to follow.

Lawn Bowling at the Wanderers Club

We stayed a night at the Protea Hotel Wanderers in Johannesburg. It is named for the nearby sports club, which includes a cricket ground across the street, a golf course, a nice restaurant/clubhouse where we ate after the USA-Slovenia game, and this lawn bowling pitch...
Lawn bowling, a.k.a. "old man's marbles," is a popular pastime in South Africa, where it was introduced by the British. These guys get together on Saturday morning, dressed to the nines in large white hats, v-neck sweaters, and white slacks.

USA-Slovenia: 2nd Half

At halftime, we vented in the concourse with other frustrated US fans. Everyone was fit to be tied. But, hark, what is this? Three minutes into the second half, Landon Donovan perfectly anticipated that the Slovenian defender would misplay a long ball, dribbled unimpeded along the baseline, and nailed a goal into the top of the net. He later said he was aiming directly for the keeper's head. Here it is from YouTube...

And just like that, everything changed. In sports, momentum can be a powerful thing. The Slovenians seemed unable to do anything right, and the USA felt the surge. The second half became a quest for the equalizer. The tension in the stadium was unbelievable as the whole crowd sensed a discernible shift.

It was a little tough for us to see the goal the Americans were attacking because we were close to the field on the 20 yard line on the other side. But it was clear as day from our angle when the ball bounced from Jozy Altidore's forehead into open space in the 18-yard box in the 82nd minute. And there was Michael Bradley to pounce on it. With an incredibly deft touch while sliding foot first, he sent the Jabulani over the keeper's shoulder and into the back of the net. This is the best video I could find, and it's from Univision in Spanish...

Bedlam. Just absolute bedlam. I've never witnessed or been part of a more ecstatic crowd than the Americans in Ellis Park that day. On the SuperSport replay the next morning, the South African television announcer nailed the game call (mostly British accent, think "stiff upper lip but still excited"): "There's a good ball!...Redemption!...For the United States of America!...The coach's son!...And he's being mobbed by his teammates!" Minimal and restrained, and highly effective. The fans in the stands were anything but minimal and restrained.

But still, we wanted more. "U-S-A!!! Yes we can!!! U-S-A!!! Yes we can!!!" We wanted, and felt like we needed, a win. England was still to play Algeria that evening, so we thought we couldn't afford to come away with a single point for a draw. And voila, a mere three minutes later, Maurice Edu knocked in Donovan's free kick, leading to even more intense bedlam in the stands. Only, some groans interrupted the party. Nobody in our section of the stadium could tell exactly what had happened, but the goal was being waved off. Rumor had it as offsides, or a foul, but nobody really knew. As it turns out, it was one of the most blatant officiating blunders of the entire tournament--a game winning goal disallowed! Boooooooooooo!

The game petered out a few minutes later. We, along with everyone else in the crowd, left with an ambivalent, dissatisfied feeling. First of all, as Americans, we are not used to sporting events ending in draws. The NFL has maybe one tie a year; college football has overtime now; baseball has extra innings; basketball has overtime; etc. Moreover, while the draw in the England match felt like a "win," this one kinda felt like a "loss." The emotional lows and highs and lows associated with USA-Slovenia were about all anyone can take in one soccer match. As the favorite over a small country, we really should have won. The first half was horrible. Then we showed such tremendous grit in the second half. Then the ref ripped away what was rightfully ours. How were we supposed to feel? Drained pretty much describes it.

Upon reflection, you realize that the stress is what makes this game great.

USA-Slovenia: 1st Half

Typical of a World Cup match, the walk down to Ellis Park was full of anticipation, with a lot of Americans and pro-American South Africans looking for a W. Here's the crowd in the ticket-checking line...
The high expectations for the Americans were justified. Yes, Slovenia led the group, but that was the result of a lone lucky goal against the lowly Algerians. Surely a small European country with fewer inhabitants than Miami-Dade county would be a relative cake-walk for the Americans. Here is video of some fired up USA fans in line for Budweiser before the game and anticipating a win...

Inside Ellis Park, there were a few scattered Slovenians. What do you yell at Slovenians? It was tough to come up with anything that stuck. Some insults went as follows: "You suck, Slovakia!" "Slovakia? No, we're from Slovenia!" "Yeah, whatever. Maybe we'll invade you next." I mean, it's kinda hard to dislike these nice people...
There were many more Stars-and-Stripes supporters. Indeed, residents of the United States bought more World Cup match tickets than those of any other country beside the hosts. USA players would later comment that it felt like their first home game. They are used to predominantly hostile Latino crowds in places like Houston and Los Angeles, which sell out large stadiums but root for the other side. Here's Bill and me with some compatriots...
Some absolute nuts just down and to the left in full Uncle Sam gear with enlarged portraits of Washington and Lincoln (neither of whom, I'm certain, ever played soccer)...
But hey, it's not everyday you have a chance to be on global television, so you have to do something pretty crazy. The fan-cam zoomed in on them pretty quickly (and, I learned later, they were featured on the telecast)...
And then the match started...
The festive mood popped in the 13th minute when the American defense decided to give Slovenian striker Valter Birsa ALL DAY LONG to virtually tee the ball up and knock a 25-yard shot past Tim Howard, who declined to move on the play. Was he visually blocked out, we wondered? Apparently not, according to television replays. Uh-oh. Once again we gave up an early goal and had to chase the game. (Such behavior would repeat itself against Ghana, ultimately leading to the USA's demise.) I hate when the other team scores first and scores early. It colors the whole rest of the game with desperation and dread.

For a little while, it looked like the plucky Americans would equalize as they pounding the ball back and forth across the Slovenian goal box. But the ball would not cross the line between the posts. In a classic counterattack, Slovenia broke out of their defensive end, leading to a pretty 42nd-minute Zlatan Ljubijankic finish and fury amongst the American faithful.

One Slovenian goal rendered us deflated. Two goals made us apoplectic. Debbie Downer herself couldn't have written a more depressing script. You mean we flew all this way for this? Gooch and Torres were terrible. Donovan and Dempsey were tentative. We'd had enough of the excuses from US Soccer; the United States should never suck this bad at anything! They had one half to earn back our respect. Definitely the emotional low point of our entire trip.

USA-Slovenia Pregame

After bidding Sinterklaas farewell and stopping for gas in Naboomspruit/Mookgophong, we headed down the N1 to Johannesburg. Even before accounting for the gas (expensive at 500+ rand to fill up), the drive cost us over 100 rand. Outside the big cities, South African highways have numerous toll stops, with prices ranging from 7.5 to 43 rand.

Bill's decision to ignore our directions and take the poorly signed M1 highway into town served us well, getting us to the hotel at noon, perhaps 20 minutes or more before we would have if we had followed the directions. Stupid Google Maps. Good thing we got to the Protea Hotel Wanderers when we did, because a "rock star" parking spot, early check-in, and a van about to head to Ellis Park were all available. We threw our bags in the room, making sure to grab our sunglasses, Stars-and-Stripes flags, camera, and a leftover six-pack of Castle Lager. It was a beautiful, bright, crisp day, perfect for a ball game--reminiscent of a college football Saturday back in the States.

The USA fans in the bus were nice enough to wait for us, so we thanked a few of them with Castle Lagers, a great way to make friends. Paul and Vic, a couple of guys traveling together from Cleveland and North Jersey, respectively, turned out to be kindred spirits. Vic had a friend with knowledge of a pre-game party at Joe's Bar, at the corner of Dawe and Bezuidenhout. Unfortunately, it is on the other side of Ellis Park from where the bus let us off, so we had a 20-minute hike. Here is a picture of the Ponte City Apartments, the tallest building in Johannesburg, and on the northern side of the Ellis Park neighborhood...
Almost immediately, we saw some Slovenia fans in full effect. Idrija is a small mining town in Slovenia..
Bill got interviewed on camera by Mexico's Telefutura along the way; apparently, there are enough USA fans back in Mexico to merit a news crew. No word on whether his Spanish-language interview ever aired. A bit later we found ourselves in a primarily Nigerian neighborhood with lots of body shops. Not the nicest section of town, but nobody gave us any trouble; to the contrary, the locals often gave us a smile, thumb-up, and an approving "Go, USA!" Nice to know not everybody in the world hates us.

Finally, and mercifully, we made it to Joe's. It was worth the hike. Inside, we found a large American contingent and a table of Slovenians. It wasn't quite the 150:1 United States to Slovenia population ratio, but it was close. Here's a popular Slovenian t-shirt--pretty unintimidating if you ask me. C'mon, man...it's a World Cup match, not a tourism commercial...
To tell what kind of place it is, here are the rules posted on the wall. Pretty funny...
Over more Castles and delicious pub grub (lamb stew), we learned Paul had attended every USA World Cup game since 2002. He says both his boss and his wife are very accommodating--his wife wanted to come but was back in Cleveland with a six-month-old! Furthermore, to every game, he had worn the same hideous-but-strangely-poignant, 9/11-themed "United We Stand" shirt that someone had given him in Korea after purchasing it in Times Square. Once the USA made it to the quarterfinals that year, it became his good luck charm. Here's Bill and his mustache with Paul and his shirt...
There was a local guy in the bar trying to make a few rand by selling worthless Zimbabwean dollars as a tourist novelty. Bill bought a 10-Billion dollar bill for 20 rand. Minutes later, Vic paid the same amount for a 50-Billion dollar bill. Inflation in Zimbabwe is bad, but a 400% increase in a matter of minutes is ridiculous.

Meanwhile, Serbia's remarkable upset of Germany played on the telly. Looking back, it's hard to believe Die Mannschaft couldn't even score on the otherwise lame Serbs.

An hour before the 4:00 game, it was time to buy my own personal vuvuzela to take into the stadium. Here are Bill and me (and our mustaches) with my new horn, inscribed with "2010 IS MY YEAR," which I found highly appropriate...

El Mundo 3, América del Sur 1

Back from the July 4 holiday weekend break without having posted in a few days. I still have more posts from the last few days in Johannesburg, but since the semi-finals start today, I want to make sure to get in my predictions before the games start.

I went 2-for-4 on my quarterfinal predictions. On Friday, Brasil completely lost its collective mind and a 1-nil lead over Nederland to lose a shocker; and Ghana snatched defeat from the jaws of victory with perhaps the single most excruciating World Cup exit ever, to Uruguay. (I hope Asamoah Gyan is able to recover...ouch!) Saturday's games went more or less as I predicted, though I don't think anyone expected Deutschland to put up a 4-nil rout on Argentina. Wow, Die Mannschaft looks dangerous! Our view of them in person turned out to be indicative of even bigger things to come.

Here are my semifinal picks:

• Nederland vs. Uruguay - These two countries have played four times ever, with Uruguay prevailing three of those times. I suspect, however, that many of those games were awhile ago and have very little predictive value. Uruguay will be without Luis Suárez--Robin to Diego Forlán's Batman--due to an automatic suspension related to his red card for the goal-line handball against Ghana. He really "took one for the team," and they wouldn't be here without that handball, but still, losing him hurts. Meanwhile, despite getting stomped on (and inducing a key red card) by Brasil, Nederland's Arjen Robben is back in fine form. Pick: the Oranje get the win with a clean sheet; Uruguay won't have enough firepower to produce a goal.
• España vs. Deutschland - This firecracker is a re-match of the 2008 European championship final, which España won 1-0 on a goal by acclaimed Liverpool striker Fernando Torres. Coming off knee surgery in April, Torres has looked horrible so far in this tournament, but the coach continues to play him. No matter: David Villa has picked up the slack with five goals, including one in each of the last four games. But one has to wonder whether La Roja's offense has looked anemic due to the wrong personnel or because it has faced such stout defenses as Portugal and Paraguay. España will need goals, because Die Mannschaft can score in bunches--just ask England and Argentina. Losing Wunderkind and second leading scorer Thomas Müller to a two-yellow-card suspension hurts them, but not enough. Pick: Deutschland 3-1, and Miroslav Klose ties Ronaldo's all-time scoring record.