Durban farewell

With the clock ticking on my time in Durban, I began the process of saying painful and much-despised goodbyes. All day on Thursday and Friday I ventured around the city, visiting hangout spots and homes, saying farewell to the places and people that adopted me so warmly over this past month. After an exhausting day of adventure throughout the city, my farewell practice with the UKZN rugby club, and a night out with Lauren and friends, I received a golden ticket in true Willy Wonka fashion. My friend had invited me to watch Bafana Bafana (South Africa’s national soccer team) play a friendly against Zimbabwe on my last night in Durban.

Held at the Moses Madhiba stadium, Durban’s World Cup venue and one of the Cup’s primary architectural achievements, I walked from the beach to the nighttime game, crowds of people flooding the sidewalks, all drawn by a centripetal force towards the gigantic orb of a stadium. The energy was palpable, overwhelming: everyone had an instrument of some sort, a noisemaker, at the very least a flag or an article of national apparel. Entering the stadium, I was immediately lost in the excitement, drowned in the enthusiasm and high spiritedness. This was not only South Africa’s first real test on their home turf in the lead-up to the World Cup, it was also a rare meeting with South Africa’s dissimilar northern neighbor. Hundreds of thousands of Zimbabweans live and work in South Africa (often facing intense and sometimes violent xenophobia) and they too showed up in impressive numbers at the brimming venue.

When South Africa drew a penalty within striking distance around the 40-minute mark, Bafana cashed in on the opportunity, the perfectly placed ball sending the crowd into a roaring state of euphoria. When a well-conceived cross was deflected by a Bafana striker into the back of the Zim goal midway through the second half, the crowd again erupted with energy, shaking the foundation of the sturdy structure and leaving me again in awe of the power of football in this country.

With the World Cup fast approaching, I can’t help but regret the fact that I’ll most likely not be in South Africa during the contest. In light of the Togo incident at the Africa Cup of Nations, there has been increasing global concern, some of it justified, over the safety and security of teams and tourists coming to South Africa during the competition. Having stayed here for the past month, however, I think that security should not be a major issue during the event itself. As long as tourists are able to use common sense and adopt many of the same precautions that would be expected in other international cities, like New York, I think that all will go without a hitch. Considering the energy and positivity that I perceived at Moses Madhiba, and the intense national pride that the country has taken in the World Cup, I have no doubt that the competition will be truly spectacular.

Returning home that night – Bafana having won 3-0 – I took a deep breath and inhaled the city one last time. The buildings, the streets, the homes, the faces. I breathed in Durban’s signature hot, humid air, warm wind blowing against my cheeks through the car’s open window. Past Steve Biko campus of DUT, up towards Durban High School (DHS), past Jack Rabbits on my right and later Davenport Square to my left. Finally I climbed the steps to 286 Lena Ahrens. Home, sweet home.