The sporting tournament was an all-day event and at times felt like an outdoor carnival. A DJ/announcer set up his table and speakers facing the soccer field, and Namibian music, mostly rap and kwaito (township rap/reggae), played constantly. Kids from the school sold cool drinks, fruit, and potato chips, and an enterprising woman barbecued up some tasty pieces of goat and beef. There were also a variety of cuca shops nearby, and I suspect that many of the kids wandered away from the sports field when it wasn’t their turn to play, buying things and occasionally trying to sneak a beer.
Probably the best part of the whole day was seeing my principal, Mr. Kalipi, arrive at the tournament sporting a professional sports jersey. Take a careful look, and those of you from my home town may be in for a surprise.
In all, my school fielded three different teams: boys’ soccer, girls’ netball, and boys’ volleyball. Being an amateur volleyball player, I spent most of my time watching the volleyball team. Our team was excellent, despite being the shortest in the tournament. The reason that we are so short is that our school is private, and kids who fail a grade are kicked out. As a result, our grade eleven and grade twelve students are about 17 or 18 years old. At other schools, there are several students in their early 20s. Even though they were the shortest team in the tournament, they were by far the best organized. They almost always had three hits on the ball, and were very good at setting up smashes, even though some of the players could not even clear the net. The volleyball team won three matches the first day, and then the next day they came back and qualified for the final, which will be the weekend of the April 15.
The boys playing soccer also won their game the first day, although they did not score the winning goal. Their opponents, under only moderate pressure, tried to kick the ball to their own goalie. The ball bounced over the goalie’s head, right into the net for a score. The next day, when they came back to play the second round game, their opponents were not so helpful, and they lost a tie-breaker shootout 3-4.
The one game that I couldn’t get into was netball, a variant of basketball played by teams of six girls each. The girls aren’t allowed to run or dribble the ball, so the key to winning the game is excellent passing. As each girl caught the ball, she would whirl around, taking her one allowed step in a way that allowed her to survey the entire court to find an open teammate. Once a team managed to get the ball under the hoop, there was little competition. The girls are not allowed to jump to block shots, so it was pretty much guaranteed that, if they could get the ball downcourt, they would score. Unfortunately our girls lost by a score of 11-9.
At the end of 12 hours in the sun I was drained and exhausted, but the kids were exhilarated because both of the boys’ teams had advanced to the second round. As our overloaded bakkie came into the school gates, the players started a victory chant. It sounded like a traditional call and response song, adapted for sports use:
Leader: Aasamane!
Group: Ugh, ugh!
Leader: Aasamane!
Group: Ooh, ooh!
Leader: Canisia!
Group: Ugh, ugh!
Leader: Aasamane!
Group: Ooh, ooh!
When we debarked from the pickup, I asked one of the kids what they had been singing. “I don’t know what it means,” he answered. “It’s a song from South Africa…I think it’s in Zulu. We just heard it on TV” Once again, modern technology bumped its head into traditional culture and created something brand new.
2 comments:
What a great shot of the principal in a Cubs jersey. Does he know that they play baseball and not soccer? Keep on blogging.
XOXO
Are Cubbie blue, and white, the school colors?
When I think of a Cubs cap, it occurs to me that the "C" could stand for "CANISIANUM" too!
Post a Comment