We Brake For Football

Life, in this part of the world, runs on very different rhythms than the West.

And football takes a very prominent place in the hearts of these people, as I learned last night.

Three nights ago, Algeria and Egypt tied in the final qualifying round for the 2010 World Cup. With all the media and tension surrounding the game (which most of you in the West probably didn't here about--but you can google it), watching the first game was intense enough.

But when they tied on Monday night and scheduled a rematch in Sudan for Wednesday evening, the Saharawi people (and millions in the Middle East) collectively held their breath.

Four members of our team were booked to leave early Wednesday morning to head back to the United States. However, upon their arrival to the airport, they were courteously informed that all Air Algerie flights had been re-directed to Khartoum, Sudan for the game. A commercial airline actually discarded their entire schedule in order to fly football fans to Sudan!

Truly, there are some parts of the world that you never begin to understand until you see it for yourself. :-P

So, they are still here, scrambling to reschedule flights and waiting for word on when the Algerian airline will resume normal services. Because here, the unspoken rule seems to be We Brake For Football.

The Algerian cell phone service sent out a mass text saying that they were giving free roaming minutes to all subscribers travelling to the Sudan. All day on Wednesday, people marched around chanting "1, 2, 3, viva Algerie!"

I had to excuse my class early because of the absolute uproar--they couldn't concentrate.

The entire Saharawi population was restless because it was an unusually cloudy day, and they were concerned that they wouldn't be able to gather enough solar energy to power the car batteries they use to run their televisions....But the sun broke in the afternoon, to the profound relief of every Smara resident.

We rounded up at the tent of our friend Talib at 6:30 to join about 15 family members and friends who crammed together, watching with baited breath--2 hours of yelling, cursing, and praying later, we watched the Algerian team triumph, 1-0, over the Egyptian team.

And the celebration began...

Zainabo, my 25 year old Saharawi friend grabbed my arm and dragged me into the street to join the cheering crowds. The voices of 40,000 refugees joined in a chorus of yelling, horn-honking, and banging on the metal water tanks that line the sandy streets--it was the most overwhelming noise I think I've ever heard! We passed boys dancing on top of cars as we shouted with joy and joined in the banging and singing.

After the initial uproar, Zainabo dragged me back down the street to her house, where we all piled into Talib's tiny red VW and joined the zig-zagging procession that sped up and down the main road. An unloaded semi-truck rumbled by, the back filled with dozens of exuberant Sahrawis--three of them jumping up and down on the roof of the cabin.

The impromptu parade splintered, some cars circling crazily in sandy field in front of the UN building, while others, my car included, zoomed straight through the security gates and into the open desert. The winding, unmarked and unlit road was alive with swerving headlights, many cars spontaneously careening off the road and into the vast, dark expanse of sand and rocks.

All this time, we were hanging halfway out of the windows, screaming, banging on the doors, waving Algerian flags or the ends of our muhlfas at everyone and no one in particular. The wind whipped sand into my mouth as we roared along, shouting the Algerian anthem and laughing at our own ridiculousness.

The cheering and horn-honking continued late into the night, and again, this morning, people have continued for several hours to fill the air with the sounds of cheers, banging, and horns. The celebration continues, with congratulatory texts lighting up everyones' mobiles and Algerian green being touted proudly in every way, shape, and form.

What a special night...what laughter and memories! But most of all, Janet's words stuck with me--words she uttered as my friends and I tumbled into the school to say congratulations after we returned from our joyride....

(Janet is the woman who first began working with the Saharawi in 1999 and has been the head of all that has grown out of it)

"This is all for a game--and it's not even their country. I can only imagine the celebration we will witness when it is finally time for them to go home..."