My experience of white middle-class South Africans is that we tend to be very wary of others. Whether tucked away in gated communities, encapsulated in our cars, or running in the gym with headphones on, we like to keep at a distance from others. Even when in public, at the shops for example, we are there for specific reasons, and not for the sake of being surrounded by other people. As such, when in those spaces we prefer not to engage with, or be disturbed by others. We seldom greet fellow shoppers, or chat to anyone in the street. We are polite, but seldom engaging. We assume that anyone who approaches us is either going to mug us, want to sell us something, or probably ask for money. A good Samaritan is someone to be suspicious of, rather than grateful for.
Perhaps our reactions are due to crime, or horrible stories read in the media. Perhaps some flinch when approached because, as they say, they are “just so sick of being asked for money”. Maybe it’s because we don’t have anything in common. Perhaps these reactions are not peculiar to South Africa. Perhaps they are completely justified. But the bottom line is that while we may be a rainbow nation with many colours, creeds, and classes, we are also a rainbow nation of people that are afraid to mix.
It’s debatable whether our isolation is caused by our wariness, or if it is an effect thereof: are we wary of others because we lead such isolated lives, or are we isolated from others because we are wary of them? Whichever way around it is, the result tends to be that we stick within our boundaries.
Now obviously there are instances where my cynicism doesn’t hold. But those are the instances I love most: those occasions where two or more strangers do connect and share something on some human level. And the ability to create so many of these opportunities has been one of the most profound aspects of the World Cup. While the fan parks and stadiums provide two good examples, for me the most inspiring moments have taken place on the fan walks, and on those occasions where people have moved out into the streets to celebrate. It’s in those moments that each person changes from spectator to participant, someone who feeds into the overall energy of the event, rather than merely observing it. We become participants, and not just consumers. These are the moments where people have occupied public spaces precisely because they are public; where the most important thing is that they are in public and others are there to share in the experience with them. It’s a time where we actively and purposefully engage with people when ordinarily we would not have; a time where we are reminded of the humanity of others.
Then there have been those who have (re)discovered public transport. With no option but to leave the comfort and quiet of their cars, many have found — to their complete surprise — that trains and taxis aren’t what they’d expected them to be. While I’m not sure what exactly they were expecting, there have been numerous occasions where I’ve actually heard people ask if the trains “are always like this?”. The same can be said for those who ventured into Soweto for the first time, again completely surprised by what they found there. And I think the level of this surprise is indicative of just how isolated we are, so cut off from others that we assume their otherness is a function of their being fundamentally different, and not just a matter of our unfamiliarity (perhaps even prejudice).
However it is by far the miraculously loud and colourful vuvuzela which has been the most iconic expression of our re-engagement with the public space. Exemplifying our tendency towards isolation are those who would bemoan its resonating buzz. They are the ones who become annoyed by its noise, an invasion of their preciously crafted (and rather brittle) privacy. However on the flip side, and far outnumbering the former, are those who lift their vuvuzelas in response to another’s trumpeting as if to say “yes, yes I am here, and I feel your excitement too!” For this is the most endearing feature of the vuvuzela: its ability to blast through the walls we have erected; the very antithesis of the discreet manner in which we usually conduct ourselves in public.
The World Cup, then, has provided us with a space in which we can re-examine our wariness of others, confront the “otherness” that has come to surround them, and glimpse what a truly open society may look like. Long may it last.
Those moments of connection with another, unknown person stand out like shining lights. I remember being in the local supermarket during the opening game of the SWC just as Bafana Bafana scored their goal. The entire shop came to a standstill as people cheered and smiled and pumped fists in the air. We all shared a moment, and then went back to serious business of buying fruit and toilet cleaner.
Agree, the question is how long will it last? At least it will change and challenge certain perceptions held by people. It also think it is worth taking into consideration that there is a lot of “patriotism and rainbow nation rhetoric” going around which tend to obscure some of the very real challenges we still face.
But I think in general in any multi-cultural society you have these problems. It makes it all the more rewarding and valuable when you discover that people share values across cultural boundaries.
As an active co-ordinator of a sector of a community policing forum, I have a very bruised head! Sandton is one of the richest CPF areas and yet no-one participates from business so we struggle for funding. They all complain however and seldom acknowledge the work that Sandton SAPS do. Go figure
Every day I celebrate our differences by keeping to my own culture, class, and people (race group).
People want to meet and mingle with each other but are usually afraid to do so, some times that fear is justified. The state must provide opportunities for the purpose of these interactions to occur by ensuring safety and security at all times. People won’t hesitate to go out and meet. It’s just that the platform is not there. People want people and more people around them, that’s why we have people called recluses.
I love the camaraderie et al, but please, can you just acknowledge that some of us actively suffer from the vuvuzela? No problem when watching games on TV, but in the stadia – shew! When I once took my earplugs out, my ears literally hurt. It says nothing about my desire or not for privacy, my patriotism or anything else. I have come to the conclusion that some of us are noise-sensitive and others are not. I have always been – I am aware of sound that my husband doesn’t even notice, for eg.
Why is everything about this World Cup so binary? Either you adore everything about it, or you’re not a patriot. Well, I love the games and the excitement, but I have serious problems with FIFA. I love the fun people are having and their passion, but I simply can’t cope with the vuvuzela – does that mean I’m evil? Apparently!
Good piece Mike.
The euphoric feeling of togetherness and patriotic fervor helps make us feel conected. These feelings of connectedness seemingly generated by the soccer feast are really nothing new. We have experienced it with the two Rugby World Cup wins in 1995 and the more recent one in France, and less so with the 1996 Africa Cup of Nations and the Blue Bulls playing in Soweto.
The difference with this FIFA World Cup is that it is massive and multi-faceted, with many diverse nations from across the world, rich and poor equal on the pitch. This tournament is helping us see through our feeble excuses for difference, better-than, and separateness, and is helping us face the carefully constructed differences that serve only to build fake categories of why one seems different from the other on the outside.
If you take anything from this World Cup, it must be the demostration of the human spirit in poetic motion through impromptu interconnections among perceived so-called strangers… who are in fact members of the same human race, brought together by sport, just like its been done since the early days of the Olympiad and other traditional sport. No contrived differences, just human beings at play, connecting at that profound level of being human, not the silly differences of the colour of one’s skin or the texture of their hair.
We are human(e) first… and last. Thats the message from this World Cup.
The big question for me is? Are we South Africans first or are whatever colour first? There is a general mistrust and fear of one another. Most social ills that we have can be adressed by us, yet we mostly look to the State (Goverment). We love being controlled and we are always the first to find fault with our country even when being civil would have been better.
I hope that the chance meeting can change perceptions of one another.
@Panchetta – That sounds a bit like the dictionary definition of apartheid? You are missing out on a lot.
@LS – Precisely. My sentiments exactly. One must be either brave or stupid or both not to stay at home after repeated muggings or burglaries. If your person is safe you worry about whether your house is safe, which does not lead to enjoying yourself being away from home.
Mike Baillie – Please do not use the words “miraculous” and “loud” and “vuvuzelas” in one sentence like that, it makes my ears hurt.