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Large Medium SmallWatching Germany thrash Argentina in the Johannesburg Newtown Fan Park was not all that different from watching Germany thrash my beloved England in Paddy O'Sheas in Sanlitun, Beijing, one week earlier. The Germans were totally in control in Cape Town and in Johannesburg a sprinkling of remnant fans were dancing and singing as they had in Paddy's a week earlier.
Arriving to the South African winter is quite a shock coming from the heat wave in China. After dropping my bags I had 24 hours before my flight out and I wanted to make the best of my one-day in Joburg. I started, as all tourists should not, by going downtown. Straight into the heart of one of the world's most violent cities. The streets were buzzing with salesmen and shoppers and on every corner there were small groups of men that I imagined were about to pull a gun on me. Wandering the streets was a very different experience. South Africans are friendly and generous people. They stopped me in the street to ask where I was from and wish me fun for the day ahead. It's hard to feel threatened when everyone around you is so warmhearted.
I arrived fifteen minutes before the first game at the Newtown Fan Park downtown and felt disappointed at the turn out. As the game started the numbers quickly swelled to about 1,000 and as the sun went down over the city behind the park, so the atmosphere started to warm. At halftime music blared across the square and Africans, as Africans do, started to dance. The party continued through to the end of the game as Germany netted another three goals.
The fan park was fun but it did not give me the sensation I had imagined while watching at home in Beijing. I wanted to feel the African vibe and there was only one place I could think to go – Soweto. I asked around for the best place to watch the football and was guided to Panyaza, a courtyard based hangout. Security guards gave me a thorough search at the door after which I asked to meet the manager. Dumisani, a young and energetic man, welcomed me and set about giving me a tour of the premises'.
Once again the warmth of the people overwhelmed, as they took my hand and shook it in complex movements as I passed. In the corner was a group of white South Africans, very drunk and dancing. I spoke to Natasha, a photocopy machine saleswoman from the northern suburbs of Johannesburg
As the match started, the music faded and the revelers sat to watch. Every shot on goal was celebrated with spontaneous dancing and the blowing of the ever-present vuvuzelas. At half time the place erupted much as it had in the fan park downtown but this time with ten times the energy. I left with my ears still ringing and my uncoordinated body prone to sudden outbursts of swinging to the music that I could not get out of my head. It had been a day to remember.Vidoe and text: D J Clark
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