Team Spirit--Saturday, May 20

We briefly planned out our itinerary and activities to do with the MKs next week and had an amazing lunch of rice, beans, and some really good chipoti that Jessica made. (I was able to get a recipe for chipoti which I am stoked about, but I haven't gotten a chance to make it yet).

We were planning to have a cultural experience by going to a pub to watch the anticipated Manchester United vs. Chelsea football (soccer) game. We wanted to appear as if we were long-time fans so we went to the market where John got a Man U jersey to get some more. The market itself was quite an experience and I felt very timid with the whole bartering system. John has it pretty well under control and helped us amateurs not to get cheated. To get there, we piled 13 guys (the ten of us, John Rinehimer, and our friends James and Edmund) into one car: John's Land Cruiser (I remember thinking it was uncomfortable for seven people!).

Of the ten of us, eight bought jerseys, and I was the only one to buy a Chelsea Jersey. The name on the back was "Drogba" who I was told is the lead scorer on their team. I put the jersey on and heard chuckles from men in the market who would call out to me "hey, Drogba," "how many goals will you score," and "I support you." They would tap me on the shoulder to tell me how bad Chelsea was going to get beat and the general consesus seemed to be the final would be 4-0 Man U. I learned through that to trash talk with them in a friendly manner. I don't know it ever really set in how incredibly important football is in the rest of the world (here it takes the place of all the hype of the sports we watch and the entertainment of movies) I also don't think it ever set in how incredibly social this culture is. In the US, we all have our own little worlds with our ipods, our cell phones and our cars; here, interaction is life. There is no one that you don't have anything to say to, because everyone has a part of each other's lives.

It was a gruelling game: both teams were very strong and each remained scoreless through the entire game and even through an additional 15 minutes of overtime. Finally, about half of the way through the second overtime, Chelsea (my team), Drogba (my jersey's namesake), scored the first and only goal of the game. Man U made valiant efforts to retaliate, but nothing went through. Enduring the taunts from my friends and from strangers in the market, and after standing up to those taunts, I had developed a pride for the team and even became a fan. When that shot went in, me and the four Ugandan men (including Edmund in the picture at right) who were also Chelsea fans--the only others--jumped up and all hugged each other. It was kind of strange, but also really exciting at the same time.