On Togo, Angola and Soccer on the Continent of Africa, Pt. 1
I wanted to avoid the topic, honestly, but if I’m to dedicate myself to blogging about the World Cup, I suppose I can’t avoid discussing the recent developments at the Africa Cup of Nations.  If you haven’t heard: Africa is a fucked up place.  

There was an attack on the Togo team bus in Angola where the tournament is being hosted.  You can read up on it here, or operate on this very unofficial summary: the Togo team caravan were laid siege to by Angolan rebels in Cabina, a northern province bordering the DR Congo.  The machine-gun attack, perpetrated by separatist group FLEC, lasted up to 15 minutes.  Fortunately gunmen concentrated most of the fire on the lead bus, which mostly carried miscellaneous equipment.  There have been three deaths reported (a driver, a member of the technical staff and an assistant coach).  There have been reports that three players were also struck (though that number has changed a couple of times), with goalkeeper Kodjovi Obilale in critical condition.   

My hesitation probably stems from not wanting actualize some deep-seated fears about Africa.  I had been doing a pretty decent job of allaying my reservations up until now.  When it became apparent that I was going to the World Cup and that said World Cup would in fact be held in South Africa, I started sweeping fears under the rug of beautiful Table Mountain and soccer (sweet, all redeeming soccer).  These being fears of an Africa full of venereal diseases, thieves, occasional leopard attacks, and most of all, the capricious occurrence of human violence—fears likely perpetuated by years of western media, as news from Africa only seems to come in three categories: 1) Rebel faction commits an act of arbitrary violence 2) Corrupt government leader overthrown 3) Genocide in progress. 

With the prospect of the World Cup looming, I’ve convinced myself that somewhere beyond the reaches of the news cameras, there is a safe Africa, a place where children aren’t familiar with firearms and Asian tourists can safely take way too many pictures of absolutely nothing.  But now that such news has permeated the bounds of the soccer world, my sensitive constitution has been aroused.  And I wonder if this mythical safe Africa exists.  And if it does, does it reach past the enclaves of rich whites?  I’m spending, what is for me at least, a small fortune to get out there and I’m quitting my job to do so.  Even I can’t say that it’s all for the soccer.  Given the magnitude of the sacrifices being made, I will want to explore.  But is cultural immersion possible in a place whose culture is in so many ways defined by the devaluation of humanity (slavery, apartheid, war)?  And I guess this is, in essence, what my most rational fear should be.  Not that I actually be involved in a terrorist incident at the World Cup, but rather: will my travel experience be dictated by what I want to see or what I am able to see from behind the walls of my resort, safely guarded from my own fears?[1]

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[1] Another reason I was hesitant to ruminate on the Togo incident: I feel like an asshole for talking about the impact of the deaths of three innocent people on my World Cup travel experience.