Um, what happened to the last month of my life? Oh wait...World Cup happened. As anticipated, my life was taken over by World Cup and surprisingly, I loved every moment of it. The energy in the city from day one was incredible.

I had the fan fest around the corner from my office, the pleasure (and sometimes displeasure) of hearing the games streaming from the oversized screens, game day concerts (including a performance by R Kelly...this country is obsessed with him, huh?), humming of thousands of vuvuzelas and certifiably insane fans. Speaking of vuvus, I hope my hearing is not permanently damaged.

Every day was a celebration...imagine colourful painted faces (and bodies), waving flags from around the globe, impromptu dancing and singing, and some creative fans including the French who mounted their flags in French baguettes, Dutch dressed in traditional blue delft pottery costumes (but most in blinding bright orange), fans from Mexico adorning Sombreros, Brazilians in festive Carnival attire...the list could go on.

Mothers2Mothers did an incredible job catering to the World Cup experience and recognizing that it is a once in a lifetime experience for staff. They held a World Cup Opening Day Celebration where people were encouraged to dress in soccer attire supporting their favorite team or native country. They served cake in the shape of soccer balls and hosted a traditional soccer dance competition. They brought in a popcorn machine and foosball table for the entire month. Colleagues were also awarded a day off to view games of their choice. Grassroots Soccer, a local non-profit organization which uses soccer as a vehicle for educating youth about AIDS/HIV, donated over 500 tickets to our site coordinators and mentor mothers who could not afford to attend otherwise.

Despite concerns that it would be a failure, South Africa proved the world wrong by being very well organized!! Seriously not sure how they pulled it off. I remember a week before it started roads were being paved, structures being built, employees going on strike, homeless people on the street....and within days all of that was cleared up.

I attended four games including France vs. Uruguay, Netherlands vs. Cameroon, England vs. Algeria and a round of 16 game Spain vs. Portugal. Being in the stadium was so surreal. Magically, the people who hooked me up with tickets always had the best seats...either first or second section mid-field every time. Other than watching the game, I entertained myself by people watching and performing Shakira’s Waka Waka dance (if you don’t know, check it). PS, have you checked out the soccer players? They are some of the most attractive athletes in the world. Like I said, even if you don’t enjoy the sport there is fun for everyone!

Overall, it was an amazing experience and I really only have a few requests for next time. Dear FIFA, please serve something other than Budweiser...preferably, a full bar with a mixologist and since it will be in Brazil, fresh Caipirinhas would be nice; next, please try not to confiscate the cap to my beer...the cap is not dangerous, the beer is; last, if you need any assistance in the locker room, let me know!

Unfortunately the US didn’t make it past round of 16, however they played incredibly well against other international power players. The game where US scored a goal in overtime against Algeria to secure a position in round of 16, versus being eliminated, was one of the best moments! It seemed like the entire town was rooting for the US and at that moment you could hear screams everywhere. That night, streets were filled with US supporters, waving flags, singing Bon Jovi and Bruce Springsteen among other iconic American bands.

If I wasn’t attending a game, there was likely a braai (which is South African for barbeque) or some other party or event going on to celebrate. I know, I wasn’t a total lush this whole month. I still got my job done, actually doing three times as much work as agreed to in my objectives, and stayed active. Speaking of active, I have to tell you about these crazy hikes and dives I’ve been doing but will save that for later.

Overall, it was an amazing and surreal experience that I will never forget!!

For all photos, go to http://picasaweb.google.com/nicolenys/WorldCup#

Three years ago, while on a weekend excursion from an assignment in Johannesburg I missed the opportunity to visit Robben Island due to poor weather conditions, so given I am back and this time for six months, I wasn’t about to forfeit the opportunity again. Lillian, another Pfizer Global Health Fellow who is on assignment at the Center for Disease Control in Zambia, was in town and decided to accompany me on this historical journey.

After spending several hours with Lillian that weekend, I heard many interesting...actually scary stories about her experience in Zambia so far. Just to share a few: she works at a lab on the hospital premises and has seen several cases of people dropping deceased off on the sidewalk then walking or driving off (she suspects they are family members who cannot take care of funeral costs and don’t know what to do with them); she has seen people carrying unprotected blood samples in test tubes (which more than likely are infected with HIV/AIDS) in their pockets and purses while in transition between buildings; she’s observed washing of potentially contaminated equipment with undistilled water, when a filter can be purchased for less than $25. There is also a case of a broken water pipe, where they’ve been hauling buckets of water from another building for over a year...also a fix that costs less than $20. On another note, she also has a very peculiar boss. She is a female in her late forties who has been accompanied by several different boys in their early twenties to work events, presumably as her date. She’s also asked Lillian to take “sexy” photographs of her for her boyfriend(s), luckily with all of her clothes on...imagine if that happened in the states! Ok, enough of that but you get the point. After hearing her stories, I feel more than lucky to be here. However, it does paint a picture for how some of these institutions in rural areas and/or poor countries operate and how even the simplest of things we may take for granted (...a $25 filter) can be considered too expensive, compromising quality and sanitation.

Sorry to digress...back to Robben Island. For those of you living in a bubble, here’s a brief history lesson for you to set the scene. Robben Island, Dutch for Seal Island, is situated about five miles off the coast of Cape Town. Funny, I grew up in Seal Beach. Anyway...back to the lesson. It was home to one of the most infamous prisons, where Nelson Mandela along with many other political prisoners spent decades imprisoned during the apartheid era. The island was also a leper colony in the 1800’s, then used for training and defence in World War II. In 1961, a prison was established where political prisoners and criminals were sent until the prison was shut down in 1997. It’s now a memorial and World Heritage Site.

For years, Mandela was an anti-apartheid activist and leader of a militant wing of the African National Congress (ANC). Apartheid was a shocking system of racial segregation enforced by the government in South Africa between 1948 and 1994. The government classified its people into four racial groups: white, black, colored (mostly mixed race) and Indian. One of the strangest classifications were Asians, where the government classified descendents of Asian countries with poor government relations as colored (e.g. China) and those where the government had strong relations (e.g. Japan, Taiwan and Korea) as white. The government provided inferior services to colored and Indian people and even more inferior services to black people as compared with whites. Apartheid meant segregated education, medical care, public services, forced removal from designated residential areas, prohibited mixed marriages, passport ineligibility and other inequalities. This obviously sparked significant resistance over the next forty plus years and resulted in series of brutal uprisings and protests.

In 1961, Mandela became leader of the ANC’s militant wing which advocated radical Black Nationalist programs. He coordinated sabotage campaigns against government targets and raised funds for a possible guerrilla war. He planned to bomb government offices, however claimed that it would be done in a way that didn’t cause harm or death.

In 1962, he was arrested and convicted of sabotage and conspiracy to help other countries invade South Africa, and sentenced to life in prison. During his plea, he said “During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to the struggle of the African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die." While in prison, his reputation grew and he became widely known as the most significant black leader in South Africa.

There were years of violence and police brutalities. In the 80’s, foreign investors began to withdraw from South Africa and there was global resistence against apartheid. In 1990, Mandela was released from prison.

Apartheid came to an end in 1994 after a series of negotiations, many of which were initiated by Mandela. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1993 as a result of his work and was later elected as President in 1994, where he won international respect for his advocacy of reconciliation.

Unfortunately, Apartheid is nowhere close to being a distant memory. In fact, I hear racial references almost daily and read about articles about racial tension or violence on a surprisingly frequent basis. In fact, the murder of a very prominent white farmer occurred here just a couple months ago which most people believe was committed by members (or liaisons) of the ANC. And closer to home...last October, our finance group was split into two floors as a result of racial tension between black and colored South Africans. The other day, after the South African soccer team won their game against France, I asked my taxi driver who was born and raised here if he was excited...his angered response “no they are racist against us colored people, I wish they lost the game”...referring to the fact that they only recruit black south Africans. This week, I overheard a colleague of Xhosa descent verbally degrading a woman for taking time out of her day to say her prayers (she is South African, but of Indian descent and Muslim). I suppose that it takes a lot of education, a shift in culture/thinking and time for this to completely subside but it still surprises and saddens me to hear these comments.

Sorry to digress again, but hopefully that puts the significance of Robben Island into perspective.

Our journey began on aboard a boat, which departed the Cape Town waterfront and sped towards the island about thirty minutes away. From the dock, we boarded a bus headed towards the prison entrance. We passed a leper gravesite which was eerie to say the least. We also stopped at the limestone quarry where most prisoners worked several hours a day. Many prisoners lost their eye sight as they slaved daily for twenty years or more, hammering white limestone under the hot sun. We also saw the small cave they had used as a toilet, which also served as a secret meeting place where private discussions were held out of sight from wardens. We saw where prisoners used to bury things they made, collected or illegally smuggled, including paper torn from cement bags to record their stories and ideas. These scraps would later contribute to Mandela’s manuscript for the Long Walk to Freedom.

After a very short ride, we arrived at the prison gate and were greeted by our guide who was a former inmate. We walked under the stone archway, the same path the prisoners took back in the day. Inside the prison, we walked along the concrete floor passing prison cells no more than five square meters, rusted iron bars and walls with eroded paint. There was stillness in the air as people walked down the narrow corridor. Most of the cells were open and bare, except for pictures of its former inmates with dates of their sentencing and either a story of their experience or a direct quote. Some cells even contained inmate’s belongings, including shoes and a belt which was made by a prisoner over a period of fifteen years from smuggling fishing net he collected at the limestone quarry. The average time spent there was twenty-five years or more. They told stories of witnessing beatings, plans for escape, physical suffering, but mostly stories of hope for the future. We also saw where the prisoners showered and had their meals. The menus differentiated based on both the prisoners’ crime and race.

Our guide, and former inmate, told his stories with a sense of pride. He said that his time in prison was spent fighting for the rights of his people and that he felt he played a role in collectively making South Africa a better place to live today. He thanked us for coming and wished us a peaceful life.

For more pictures...visit: http://picasaweb.google.com/nicolenys/RobbenIsland