My Trip To South Africa

It's now been two weeks since I've returned from my trip to South Africa. Maybe it's because I'm not a die hard soccer fan, but the images that dominate my memory of my trip are not the stunning views of the pitch from inside Soccer Stadium in Johannesburg, but rather the views of the crumbling slums out the window of my rental car as we road-tripped to Durban. Somehow the quiet of the wilderness region in Kwazulu-Natal region I visited is louder in my imagination than the collective thunder of the vuvuzelas.

The feeling that lingers is not so much the feeling of cheerfulness one is suppose to feel when traveling a distant land, but rather a feeling of uneasiness stemming from being a visitor in a country of have-nots as a carefree, vacationing American. The ugly feeling of privilege and status afforded by getting lucky in the lottery of birthplace (well in my case I was actually born in Tehran but lucked-out with determined to-come to-America parents, but you understand what I mean). A disquieting knowledge that only now, because of the World Cup, is the collective attention of the world being directed at South Africa. After all, ever since the end of apartheid in 1994, South Africa remains a large-scale social experiment. One that has shown some early signs of success, to be sure, but one whose outcome is still uncertain. In my mind, Nelson Mandela, the lead designer of this experiment if you will, should be given all credit for this historic moment. I would have never eaten Bunny Chow after a long night out in Durban (the curry-inspired South African fast food) if he had not miraculously chosen peaceful reconciliation with the Afrikaners over violent and justified payback for decades of ruthless oppression and human degradation under apartheid. The world would not have experienced World Cup 2010 in South Africa if it were not for the acts of immeasurable courage, love and humanity of Nelson Mandela. For those of us who traveled to South Africa to watch the World Cup, the least we can do is tell people back home about what we saw -- the pretty and the ugly. Here's my go at it.

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