Soccer Games in 3rd World Countries

The road was covered with big potholes full of muddy water that our chappa splashed and crashed through, as we took back roads to avoid the foot-traffic that dominated the roads to the soccer game. As we zigzagged our way through the villages, I finally saw the lightless light towers of the stadium (When they filmed the movie Ali at the stadium the production studio told the government that they needed to put in stadium lighting. The government installed the light towers, but pocketed the rest of the money and never installed the lights). The actual stadium is very old and sets out in the middle of a large field of tall grass, red sandy dirt, and piles of trash that would impress any garbage man in the United States.

The chappa driver pulled up and let us out as close as he could get which was a few blocks away from the entrance gate. As we climbed out, energy and excitement were in the air. I walked ahead and tried to take in the sight of people coming from all directions on foot as far as my eyes could see. People of all ages with Mozambique flags draped over their shoulders, blowing horn-like noisemakers, and some with their faces had been painted. We all climbed and weaved through the weeds and piles of trash to the entrance gates.

As we got closer to the entrance, the energy in the air grew more intense. Guards and police with machine guns stopped us, as they checked bags and tried to stop people from bringing in boxed wine and weapons. It was obvious that many were paying the guards, so that they could bring in cases of boxed wine. We continued through the actual entrance, it was then that I noticed the razor edged barbwire on the top of the stadium accompanied by armed soldiers posted all along the upper walls. Other men were also standing atop the wall, shouting at people below in attempts to purchase the boxes of wine (pictures a small cardboard milk carton, the type that was sold at lunch in grade school, but a little bit bigger and full of cheap wine. This potent beverage priced at just 25 cents a box). The armed guards with their vicious attack dogs would catch someone trying to make a transaction up over the wall, the dog would bark ferociously and the guard would come over stop the sale. More boxes of wine were being passed over the wall, than were being stopped. I already was sensing that this was going to be a chaotic experience, but also was definitely up for the adventure.

Over two hours early, our group of 17 people filed in through the gate, and was greeted by the sight of easily 40,000 Africans attempting to find seats. In attempts to help the reader better understand what this chaos looked like, imagine a stadium that only seats 30,000 with 40,000 fans present, no assigned seats causing everyone to push and shove for a place to sit, and everyone is staring at you because you are the only group of white people in the entire stadium.

We were quickly pushed in to a stairway that leads down towards the field. No more than five minutes had passed when I heard Ashley, just ahead of me; shout that someone had taken her phone and wallet from her pocket. I felt a man grab for my camera in my pocket, but quickly grab his hand and stopped him as I tried to push my way up through the crowd to get to Ashley to help her. By the time I was able to reach her, the pickpocket was long gone. I rounded up the 11 friends from Oklahoma and got them to a safe spot out of the way while Ashley tried to spot the man who had taken her things. We were unable to spot him, and the police were no help.

After trying to come up with plan of what to do about Ashley’s missing things, and what to do about seats, we finally decided to walk around to the far side of the stadium where it appeared that there might be open seats. As we snaked our way through the mob of people it was obvious that most of the crowd had partaken in a few too many boxes of this cheap wine. There were shouts of joy as people realized that we were at the game to cheer for their Mozambican soccer club. Everyone wanted high-fives from the Americans, and game score predictions, it was quite overwhelming and was obvious that many of the girls in our group already didn’t feel comfortable with our situation.

As we neared the other side of the stadium we decided that we needed to work our way down into the stands and find seats. All of the sections of the stadium looked full, but we needed to get into the stands or we weren’t going to be able to see any of the game. As we started walking into the stairway, people started cramming in behind us and pushing. There were no seats available anywhere, and the locals sitting around us told everyone to just sit on the steps where we were standing. This may sound like a wonderful idea when written down on paper, but when the people in front of me sat down, everyone behind me started to push forward, trying to get down into the stands for a place to sit. A couple of guys from the Oklahoma team and I stood there trying to hold back hundreds of crazy drunk African soccer fans. If we lost our footing all of the girls from our group, and the other fans sitting on the steps in front of us were going to be trampled and smashed. I remember thinking, “I have heard of people dying in this manner at sporting events and concerts.”

We finally got to sit down, after I hit a gigantic African man in the stomach, who had stood on my flip-flop covered foot, while trying to push me down the steps. When I hit him, he was so drunk that he just laughed at me. We were sitting on top of each other, and the whole situation continued to escalate around us. Fights continued to break out around us over boxes of alcohol and places to sit. One of the girls from Oklahoma, was just picked up and passed above the crowd against her will, while Ashley yelled at other men who couldn’t keep their hands off the girls that came with us to the game. It was possibly the most unorganized chaotic situation I have ever witnessed, and the soccer game hadn’t even started yet.

After the game started, the commotion settled down a bit. We sat squished together with a few of us sitting on the laps of others, and enjoyed the first half of the soccer game. Mozambique seemed to be on the attack for the majority of the half, but never seemed to have much of a strategy of how they were going to score. Senegal’s goalkeeper seemed to be much more talented and had many great saves and stops on the ball. The teams retired for the half, with the score tied at zero.

As soon as the game clock stopped for the half, people were up and trying to climb over the people around them in leaps and bounds to get to the top of the stands. No matter where you are from, if you get a foot in the face, stepped on by someone else, or a box of wine spilt on you, it is going to make you quite upset. This happened to many of the people sitting around us, and it quickly turned into a riot-like atmosphere. I could do nothing but laugh at the situation, and yell to Ashley, “T.I.A.” (This is Africa)! She just laughed at me and repeated, “T.I.A., Justin!”

As the pushing and shoving continued, I suddenly had a sleeping baby in my arms, that a mother handed to me in efforts to try and protect her child. I took the baby and rocked it as mass chaos ensued all around me. It was quickly evident that all of the girls from Oklahoma were ready to leave the game as many of them were crying. I sat there with a baby in my hands, not exactly sure where the mother had been pushed. After the crowd created a path for people to exit to the top of the stadium where many were purchasing more boxed wine, the mother luckily returned for her baby. I quickly exited with my group of friends and attempted to protect and shield the girls from men’s hand who were trying to grab the girls as we passed. As they cried and we pushed through the crowd, we finally found an exit gate. The second half hadn’t even started, but we had seen enough action for the day and decided to head back to the baby house.

After we left, I heard that the police and military closed all the gates and searched all the fans as the exited the stadium. Three officers were beaten up and their machineguns stolen. The guards were attempting to find the missing weapons. The crowd was the largest that national team had ever seen at it’s games. Mozambique and Senegal ended the game in a tie. It was a cultural experience, which I am glad to have had now that we are all home safe. We returned home safe, with only a few bruises, one missing shoe, and a little bit of innocence lost.