The Friendly City...sans the Internet

PORT ELIZABETH--Having burned through most of my rand in Cape Town, I was hoping I could enjoy a day in Port Elizabeth on the cheap. But as one person told me on a bus ride Tuesday night: “You’re an American. The conversion rate makes you rich.”

In South Africa weather goes up the cape from west to east. Meaning, the rain and cold I enjoyed in Cape Town was also here in PE.

Our bus arrived a few moments before 7 a.m. With the rain exacerbating the chilly air, I was not in a mood to explore the city in search of breakfast before taking a taxi to my bed and breakfast. The first three times I called my accommodation to set up a taxi the phone rang for eternity.

After beginning to lose the veneer of patience and arriving within a dangerous proximity of showing how much of an American ass I can be when annoyed, I asked whether the bus company knew of a taxi service. In what can only be described as an angel looking out for me, a woman behind the Intercape counter told me she would catch a taxi for me that would take me to the Park Plaza Bed and Breakfast.

A conversation with the taxi driver allowed me to remember why I was in Port Elizabeth in the first place—to see a pair of world class soccer players in the World Cup.

Tuesday’s game between Cote d Ivoire and Portugal was the talk of the town. Featuring Didier Drogba and former World Player of the Year Cristiano Ronaldo, as well as other players who are known throughout the soccer world, the match was one of the most anticipated of the group stage.

I dropped off my big bag at the bed and breakfast and went to see the city and find food. The wind was whipping in off the Indian Ocean, making it paramount I figured out PE’s public transportation sooner (warmer) than later (chillier).

The Beachfront is a popular place with locals and tourists alike, so I spent a few hours there. I bought a brunch that was twice as much as I thought it would be because I didn’t speak clearly. So much for the South African perception that Americans enunciate more than they do; or the thought of me saving money during my day here.

I went to the hotel to take my first shower in two days. After reading my professor’s Facebook post about Cote d Ivoire this spring, I put on warm clothes and found as much orange and green as possible so I could show my support for the Elephants, even if my hands were in my pockets and my vuvuzela remained quiet.

(No one here asked me what FAMU meant, but it didn’t matter. I’m too proud a Ratter to travel internationally and not let people know who educated me.)

I met George, a Lisbon resident who lived for Jacksonville for three years, on a bus that took us to Nelson Mandela Bay Stadium. He showed me a couple pictures from the time he spent earlier in the week playing with a six month old tiger. We spoke about his team’s chances, Ronaldo’s penchant for unnecessary diving and how the U.S. surprised a lot of people with its draw against the Three Lions.

Our bus approached the beautiful stadium, which is no more than two kilometers from the bay, about an hour prior to kickoff.

George excitedly ran inside to see how his Portuguese side looked in training. Meanwhile, I meandered about taking it all in and snapping pictures of the stadium and the city in the background. I arrived at my seat—in the upper deck, but right at midfield—just in time to shoot pictures of both teams training.

Had I brought more clothes, I would have been more demonstrative about the contest. Nevertheless, I was very happy to be in a stadium with so many world class players. Fortunately, for me and the Elephants, Cote d Ivoire captain Didier Drogba recovered enough from an arm injury to take the field for the final 25 minutes of the match.

The game was a stalemate that ended scoreless. Neither team really tested the opposing goalkeepers as Ronaldo won Man of the Match almost solely on reputation alone.

It took a while, but I made it back to my bed and breakfast in time to catch the prime time contest between Brazil and North Korea. Knowing I had to give the bed and breakfast R625 for my room, I left at halftime in search of an Internet cafe or a wireless hotspot to make a seamless transfer.

But things were not as they seemed.

Port Elizabeth may have Internet connectivity, but it’s certainly not comparable to what is available in the United States. The more places I went, the more I became frustrated. Finally, after losing enough cool to chill the seaside city by myself, I stormed back to my hotel fuming at the prospect of the dearth of online options.

My girlfriend and I worked it all out. As I said my prayers Tuesday, I expressed thanks for the trials placed before me that day.

That adversity led to a conversation Wednesday morning that once again highlighted the differences between South Africa and America. This time it was South Africans who were wondering aloud why things were unintentionally complex.