Showing posts with label World Cup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World Cup. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Umupira/umupira: Soccer balls and T-shirts
In Kinyarwanda, umupira (oo-moo-peer-ah) means both t-shirt and football (the game and the actual ball). In honor of the World Cup, here are a few pictures of each.
Those who can’t afford soccer balls make them out of string, banana leaves, plastic bags, foil cracker wrappers, and other materials. They’re bound on the outside with yarn (left, diameter ~6”), banana leaves, or strips of fabric (both, right – diameter ~4”).
This kid at Day of the African Child had the biggest homemade soccer ball I’ve seen – it may even be regulation size.
Here are some action shots:
And here are some of the more random t-shirts I’ve been able to photograph. I assure you there are far more random ones that make their way here through the second-hand markets, but I can’t always get a picture.
Those who can’t afford soccer balls make them out of string, banana leaves, plastic bags, foil cracker wrappers, and other materials. They’re bound on the outside with yarn (left, diameter ~6”), banana leaves, or strips of fabric (both, right – diameter ~4”).
This kid at Day of the African Child had the biggest homemade soccer ball I’ve seen – it may even be regulation size.
Here are some action shots:
And here are some of the more random t-shirts I’ve been able to photograph. I assure you there are far more random ones that make their way here through the second-hand markets, but I can’t always get a picture.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Sounds of the World Cup
When I walk through Gisenyi on my way back from lunch or after work, during World Cup matches, the air is filled with the incessant buzz of the vuvuzela, familiar to anyone who has watched even a part of a game.
Here, the sound of the vuvuzela advertises the locations of hole-in-the-wall TV/movie viewing shops and homes with TVs, where it is the background to the Congolese channel that comes in clearer here than the Rwandan channel. The vuvuzela emanates from the ubiquitous radios tuned to Kinyarwanda and Swahili-language broadcasts. The vuvuzela sounds clearest from the bars, hotels and the occasional homes that have satellites, where depending on preference and reception it is accompanied by French announcers on the Cote d’Ivoirian channel, or African English on the Tanzanian broadcast, or British commentary on the pay satellite channel (in the nicer bars), or the channel from Mauritius where, commercials tell me, they have Pizza Hut and frozen “easy packs” of chicken and broadband USB cell modems.
But always, the buzz of the vuvuzela is everywhere.
Here, the sound of the vuvuzela advertises the locations of hole-in-the-wall TV/movie viewing shops and homes with TVs, where it is the background to the Congolese channel that comes in clearer here than the Rwandan channel. The vuvuzela emanates from the ubiquitous radios tuned to Kinyarwanda and Swahili-language broadcasts. The vuvuzela sounds clearest from the bars, hotels and the occasional homes that have satellites, where depending on preference and reception it is accompanied by French announcers on the Cote d’Ivoirian channel, or African English on the Tanzanian broadcast, or British commentary on the pay satellite channel (in the nicer bars), or the channel from Mauritius where, commercials tell me, they have Pizza Hut and frozen “easy packs” of chicken and broadband USB cell modems.
But always, the buzz of the vuvuzela is everywhere.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
The World Cup Begins!
World cup fever is alive and well in Rwanda. I watched the opening matches Friday at my coworker’s house – he has a satellite, which guarantees multiple channels of varying quality to choose from. Except when the power goes out, which of course happened during the first half of the USA-England match tonight. The score was 1-0 England. We quickly tuned to a radio broadcast and immediately heard the cry, “GOAAAAAL.” But it was in Swahili, and none of us spoke Swahili, so we couldn’t discern who had scored. (My coworkers were all cheering for England.) Finally we got ahold of someone by cell phone who told us that USA had tied the game!
For the second half, we moved to a bar with a generator. Around the 60th minute, when the US had a few good chances in a row, I got a little excited and the guy next to me started cheering, “Obama! Obama!” I asked him, in Kinyarwanda, if Obama was playing football.
It started to rain. In the 87th minute, as the rain grew heavier, the satellite feed went out. I had to call and text another volunteer to find out the final result.
It sounds pretty unreliable, but the fact that I can watch at both a bar with a generator and in a private home on a $550 satellite definitely makes me privileged in Rwanda. Many are stuck huddling around radios, perhaps struggling to understand Kiswahili. Many more don’t have any way to watch or listen to “Africa’s World Cup.”
For the second half, we moved to a bar with a generator. Around the 60th minute, when the US had a few good chances in a row, I got a little excited and the guy next to me started cheering, “Obama! Obama!” I asked him, in Kinyarwanda, if Obama was playing football.
It started to rain. In the 87th minute, as the rain grew heavier, the satellite feed went out. I had to call and text another volunteer to find out the final result.
It sounds pretty unreliable, but the fact that I can watch at both a bar with a generator and in a private home on a $550 satellite definitely makes me privileged in Rwanda. Many are stuck huddling around radios, perhaps struggling to understand Kiswahili. Many more don’t have any way to watch or listen to “Africa’s World Cup.”
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