Desde Santurce a Johannesburg…
Three weeks here and I feel that my skin is getting darker. The weather is cold but the sun shines as if we were in Madrid… I am living a lot of different experiences in my second land, South Africa.
As the days pass, I feel more involved in the project that this country has for his future. The racial problem has successfully been reduced even though there are still some details that could and should be improved. We could compare this issue to the Basque social problem.
I would like to share with the readers the experience lived by my family and friends during the World cup final.
While I was at the stadium watching the historic victory of “la roja” (please anyone who can change these nickname, just do it!) my family and friends were watching the same match at their homes in Bilbao.
In Joburg you could see a black man with no idea of our language or history supporting Spain and in Bilbao you could find a Spanish citizen wearing the Orange t-shirt. So, who lives in an undeveloped world?
In a country where the vast majority of people might did not reach high school, they know that if their country wins (or even the neighbors countries like Ghana) they win. Very simple and logical, but a big part of the undeveloped people from the Basque Country and Cataluña continue looking for a future where you will need a passport to travel from Bilbao or Barcelona to Madrid.
When Spain won the World cup, half of the population of Bilbao run to the streets with the Spanish flags that they had kept with dust at the end of their wardrobes. I would have loved to be able to live that moment and discover the feeling of carrying a Spanish flag in Algorta or in the Mayor Street at Las Arenas. This experience was only for some privileged people that were able to shout “¡¡Viva España!!” in front of some short mind aizkolaris´ face. Of course authentic Spanish supporters must bear and listen to all type of threatens against their lifes and their families, but I well know that it is worthy.
¡Viva España y la madre de Iker Casillas!
By Guillermo Eguidazu