Free ticket and front row seats...

After a successful, fun filled evening at the Fan Park Friday night the girls and I decided to venture back into Durban Saturday for the USA v. England game. Our local paper said the game was supposed to start
at 6:30pm, but upon arrival to Durban we realized it wasn’t until 8:30. The girls and I spent the next two hours talking, dancing and playing cards with fans from all over the world. Playful banter about whose team was better was shared as we taught our new friends how to play all the old American (college) classics; up the river down the river, pyramid and kings.

Our eye-catching RED WHITE AND BLUE outfits attracted quite a crowd, both USA fans and casual spectators most looking to take a picture with us. I’ll have to admit, my very blue frilly tutu really
sealed the deal on patriotism. (Although they don’t celebrate 4th of July here it is one of my favorite holidays back home and I think the skirt will play a large role in my outfit!)



Two of the individuals we met Friday night at the fan park joined us Saturday -Jose a Venezuelan and Hindu who both go to Colombia University. It felt so refreshing to talk with them about New York
City and my life pre Africa in the Bronx. The two told us their extensive travel plans throughout South
Africa – catching various games. They mentioned that they had a spare ticket to Sunday’s game: Germany v. Australia which they offered to me at no charge.

I felt guilty as a volunteer accepting a ticket to a World Cup game, something my patients and students could never afford. After a bit of internal deliberation I graciously accepted knowing that not only would I kick myself later for not going, but I would have a line of others waiting to do so as well.

Walking through security into the stadium was exhilarating to say the least. Everywhere I looked fans were sporting their countries colors, but as I looked closer I realized a large majority were also bearing South African attire – beaded SA flags, or Bafana Bafana face paint. I again was so proud of the way this country has come together for the good of all. Before 11 June I had reservations about the success and safety of everything World Cup related, but after last weekend I couldn’t be more impressed with South Africa for pulling off such an immense undertaking, and doing it really really well..

Jubilation is one of the only words I can think of to describe the game start to finish, and even that doesn’t do it justice. Our seats (and I shouldn’t complain because they were free) were quite high up in the stadium. Before the game started I dragged the boys down to the first level to try and get a better picture of the stadium. I ended up talking with a member of security. One thing led to another and I found myself effortlessly walking through security into the section closest to the field. For part of the game we sat about 10 rows back and as if that wasn’t good enough I tried for a bit closer.

Now, I’m not always a con artist, but exciting times call for exciting measures….I saw an empty front row seat and happened to sit down; telling myself, of course that should the occupant decide to come to the game I would move. They never came, I never moved.






The ambiance that surrounded me quickly gave way to elation, eyes filled with tears of pride and goose bumps on and off through the entire game. Again, I felt so proud to call South Africa my home and so fortunate to be blessed with such a special opportunity.

Viva Vuvuzela

It seems like just yesterday the girls and I were scouring our closets looking for anything and everything yellow and green to wear to our respective worksites in celebration of the 100 Days until the FIFA World Cup kick off. And that ladies and gentlemen was 2 March 2010…exactly 105 days ago.

100 days ago. Even typing the sentence it sounds unreal. It has taken my boss Pat visiting from America and leading a full weekend retreat and then reflecting for the last two weeks to fully recognize that the mid way point in my year has come and gone with the month of June piggybacking closely behind it.

100 days later Enter World Cup Season

South Africa has been transformed. We have been drowning in a sea of flags rivalled by the deafening sound of the beloved vuvuzela for the last few weeks, but both Thursday and Friday of last week were unlike anything I have ever witnessed.

Thursday the girls and I joined Andrew and Gordon at a Johnny Clegg concert (At Gateway Mall- the largest mall in the Southern Hemisphere). Johnny Clegg is a SOuth African legend, not only for his invigorating music but for the way in which he inspired change just by being. Dubbed the “White Zulu”, he took strides in breaking the barrier between blacks and whites even before it was kosher to do so.

The concert opened with a singer from the band Tree63 who ended his performance by signing the three most perfect songs in a row:
-Three Little Birds (don’t worry about a thing cause every little things gunna be all right) By Bob Marley
- Wave Your Flag – the World Cup theme song
-Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika – The South African National Anthem

As I looked around I saw white and blacks together, standing side by side. Swaying their arms back and forth holding South African flags and then signing in unison the national anthem, in Zulu. Sharing together their pride, celebrating together their country. The experience was so powerful and of course I teared up.

After the concert the five of us went out for a Drink in Durban and the mood was just as vibrant. Everyone was excited and jerseys were in abundance. Conversations between cultures flew freely as everyone wanted to know who you were, where you were from and how long you were staying. I spoke with one girl from Germany in the bathroom. She complimented my shirt as I did hers- a long white sweater. I told her I had been looking for a sweater that was white and longer to no avail. At the end of the night she found me, sweater in hand and said “in the spirit of the world uniting, it’s yours”, handed me the sweater and walked out of the bar. The first of many outstanding acts of kindness I was blessed to receive this weekend.

Thursday melted into Friday. THE FRIDAY. June 11th, Kick off day typical life in South Africa has come to a standstill and instead a new vibe has been adopted. Every car has at least one South African flag flying from the window. Most cars actually have an additional South African flag or one representing another country on the other side. All cars have slip covers on their side mirrors with South African flags on them. As Sinead and I drove home from work we had the pleasure of watching a small boy try to stand in the back of a moving truck blowing a vuvuzela while waving a SA flag, not at all safe, but endearing at the same time.

The background melody of my life has transformed from the lulling of voices and cars to the not so lulling chorus of voluble Vuvuzelas (a plastic horn which when blown makes a loud monotone borderline deafening noise) rising from the valley. And somehow everyone’s closet including my own is only producing a wardrobe that consists only of the colors yellow and green.

The atmosphere of Friday evening in Durban for the opening South Africa Bafana Bafana game was unlike anything I have ever witnessed. Driving into Durban every person in every car had a Bafana Bafana jersey on. Walking down the boardwalk toward the fan park among the fans from various Countries was so exciting! The singing the dancing and the flags were everywhere and the whole experience was was so moving. Trees were being wrapped in South African flag colors and the sand was being built into the Moses Mahbida Stadium.





Again as I looked around there were both white and black, old and young donning the Bafana Bafana Jersey, vuvuzelas in hand, celebrating together.

Describing the vibe inside the fan park is so difficult as it in all of its glory was such an indescribable experience. The fragrance of excitement and pride was universal. It reminded me of the Bronx the day after Obama was elected; smiles plastered to the faces of all, everyone excited, everyone talking with each other, a real sense of unity and pride.


As I stood alongside thousands of other fans, feet in the sand; Indian Ocean to my left; Durban city to my right; World Cup Stadium behind me witnessing the dawn of a new chapter in the history of South Africa I realized the significance of that moment. For me an awestruck fan it was an exciting moment and I was proud to be a “resident” of South Africa for the year, but for long time residents it was an opportunity to unite, to see their country start to be healed and their dreams start to actualize.

I’m sure the fans will go home with a vuvuzela or two tucked in their luggage and a little ringing in their ears ...but for me the noise will not just be memories of another good game, but rather of barriers being broken, cultures merging, wake up vuvuzela calls from Embo at 5:30am – which carry on to vuvuzelas being blown on my way to work by fellow drivers or by patients at work – and St. Theresas boys teaching me how to purse my lips to make the right sound –and finally vuvuzelas will always remind me of the transcendence of love and pride.

Comrades Marathon

One of the most moving things about living at 8 Warwickshire Crescent is the location. On one side of our house we have the breath taking views of Embo and the other we have Old Main Road, home to the Comrades Ultra Marathon route.

Now, for those of you who are not in the running world is the world’s biggest ultra marathon. Ultra being the operative word. It is a grand total of 89kms which is 56 miles. I’m not sure what exactly it is that drives someone to run a regular marathon, but that alone is an impressive act and then to run distances beyond that is beyond words.

2010 Comrades details:
Date: Sunday, 29 May 2011
Start: 05h30 in Durban
Finish: 17h30 in Pietermaritzburg
Distance: 89km – 56 miles



A bit of background info on Commrades…this was the 85th year. It started as a group of runner friends daring each other to run between the cities Pietermaritzberg and Durban. The race, which was named for the acts of friendship and camaraderie found among the competitors eventually evolved to include local runners and eventually was opened up to the rest of the running world…typically there are around 14,000 runners.

The direction of the race alternates each year between the two cities Durban and Pietermaritzburg. As the World Cup 2010 “Feel it, it is here” adverts say, it is a special year for South Africa not only for the World Cup, but it was also Comrades 85th year so they extended the entries to 20,000 runners. This year also marked the first time that the run was held going from PMB to Durbs in two consecutive years, 2009 and 2010. They did this so it could end near the new Moses Mabhida Stadium.

Comrades runs through the valley of 1000 Hills, literally hill after hill after hill after hill which makes the run that much more daunting and impressive. Around the half way point on Old Main Road there is a wall of Honor commemorating the runners (I get to drive by it every time I go to 1000 Hills Community Center which is also located along the marathon route.



Watching Comrades was an event in itself. Although the race runs right by our house we decided to watch it from a neighboring town, Kloof alongside friends and family of our friend Richard who ran the race. In order to drive to Kloof, which is maybe 5 minutes away we had to wake up at 5am and be off of our road by 5:30; judging by the blockades that I sweet talked a policeman into moving, 5:30 was a time we narrowly made.

Unfortunately a few days prior my roommate Mary-Kate had her appendix out. She caught it early, the hospital is private and very nice (not some dirt hole in the ground like I’m sure you are thinking), she is doing very very well, but on Comrades morning she wasn’t feeling up to leaving the house so I went with our friends Adam and Andrew. Richards sister Claire did an outstanding job organizing our friends, food and festivities in honor of Rich!

As we settled in along side the 27k to go sign I couldn’t help but be overcome by emotions. The day in itself can be summed up in one world moving. I have never been so moved by witnessing a sporting event before. The amount of runners alone was a sight to behold and the atmosphere was one of complete support, proving the name Comrades to be a kind reality.



The winner won with a time of 5 hours 29 minutes.

I saw runners of all kinds; young and old, some fit and healthy others a bit over weight, some outfitted in barely there running apparel, others wearing outrageous costumes (two in Rhinoceros costumes, Superman and Batman, a man in a full three piece suite) twins, siblings, husband and wife and then Richard.

I started tearing up when I saw Rich. I was so impressed. As I mentioned before I have never been so moved by physical activity before. I was and still am so proud of him.

Comrades is an experience that I will never forget. Is is something that is so South Africa specific that running will be so closely linked with South Africa and my time here.

Rich’s finishing time was 9 hours 30mins and 26 seconds