This World Cup has got me bursting out of my skin with EXTRA SA-positivity

I’ve always been an “SA-positive” South African. Especially since 1994 and that small matter of us becoming a democracy. But this most stunningly beautiful of all World Cups has the bell at the top of my Positiv-o-meter clanging like Oprah Winfrey running wild and loose in the Durban Philharmonic Orchestra’s brass section.

I want to have a word in the shell-like (ear) of the editor of London’s Daily Star, a rag for which South Africa as host country of the world’s premier football competition was total anathema. A gutter-press tabloid which trotted out every potential disaster it could think of as reason why a World Cup in our chaotic, useless cadaver of a country at the southern tip of parlous Africa would fail.

Then I would take him into a padded cell, truss him up in some seriously heavy-duty rope, hold a blowtorch close to his left big toe and firmly tweak his lying nose every time he blinked. No, I’m not all that happy with him.

Um. Where was I? Oh, yes. I was at the Fifa Fan Fest on Durban’s beachfront for Brazil vs Portugal last Friday afternoon. I want to run you through that a bit, if I may.

First, the huge area cordoned off for fans to watch the match on a ginormous screen happened to be almost entirely comprised of warm, golden sand. Beach bliss. The weather, as is typical of Durban in mid-winter, was warm, even sultry. Everything was fantastically well organised and I didn’t have to wait long to get my hands on a boerie roll (boerewors roll, a kind of hotdog but only way better).

Most people wore shorts with their vuvuzelas and were impeccably behaved despite many drinking vast quantities of beer. It was a blast and only Brazil v Portugal, neither having to try too hard to qualify for the final round, let the side down.

Oh, I’ve got a couple of pics to portray the general vibe of the elated throng enjoying the beach party while watching a bit of World Cup football. Here we go…

Thousands had a jol (party) as the match played out on the giant screen. Nice.

And nobody enjoyed it more than The Popsicle, who made sure she had the best view of all the action

It's not all bad watching World Cup football on warm sand just a handful of metres from the Indian Ocean

I made a new friend in Luyanda (2) who was dead cool in his outsized spectacles. All pix: Marcelle Delew-Kappen

All in all, not an entirely shabby afternoon/evening. I thought I coped quite well with it. No problems, a beautiful vibe. South African ubuntu (togetherness) at its very best. Well done to Durban’s Fan Fest. Wait. I’ll go further than that. Well done, South Africa. And I mean all of you. All of you “SA-positive” people who have embraced this World Cup and offered the traditional warm hand of friendship to our foreign guests.

You are all beautiful. So wonderful that I’m going to give you the rest of the week off work. Just tell your boss that I said so. Just do it. He’ll understand. You deserve it.

The World Cup’s a-comin and Cape Town’s in motion, oh yeah!

My hands are up. I confess. I’ve had more than a few unkind words to say about Cape Town on this blog.

But that was then. When I was living 40 metres from the golden sands of Umdloti Beach north of Durban and was transfixed by the stunningness of the majestic arch over Moses Mabhida Stadium.

And this is now. I still prefer Durban’s World Cup stadium to Cape Town’s but, given that I have moved Hatman Mansions to a glorious village just two hours out of Cape Town and am trying to make new friends there, it’s time I sucked up to Cape Town a bit. Bloggers are allowed to change their minds, aren’t they? What’s that? Oh.

Moving swiftly on, and in the true South African spirit of ubuntu (togetherness), I have had a strict word with myself and am now happy to endorse Cape Town as a World Cup destination of no little charm.

And the ensuing video suggests that I might not be wrong. For those Korea Dictatorial Republic fans who haven’t ever visited the Mother City, you may now drop your jaws at this…

Not altogether shabby, is it? No. Better than what you’ve got at home, perhaps? Ignore that. Unfair question. So have yourselves a ball in Cape Town, my foreign friends, and thank Peter Greenwall for sending me his cinematic take on what goes on under and around Table Mountain.

And – I’ve got to slip this in – if the stratospheric levels of hedonism get too much for you, hire a car and drive for a couple of hours up the R43 past Hermanus to my home village of Stanford. Here you’ll find a ridiculously friendly welcome at the third best-preserved Victorian village in the Western Cape. And the first best-rehabilitative oasis on the entire planet! I know. I live here and I’m super-chilled. So chilled that I’ve even begun to like Capetonians!

I’m sure all of this has got you gagging to get on that plane out of Pyongyang, hey?

Are you South African enough to pass Mark Berger’s “SA-positive” test?

I am fed up to the back teeth with the “SA-negatives”, both South African and foreign, who seem to be willing our soon-to-be-phenomenal World Cup – and our beloved nation – to fail.

Did they even bother to witness the scenes of beautiful “ubuntu” which played out between the predominantly white Bulls and Stormers supporters and the almost entirely black locals of Soweto when the two South African rugby franchises contested the Super 14 final at the Orlando Stadium in the famous township on Saturday?

The genius who first suggested that the Bulls’ Super 14 semi-final and then the final of the southern hemisphere’s rugby tournament be played in the heart of overwhelmingly soccer-mad Soweto should be awarded the Order of the Totally Like Solid Gold Makarapa by President Jacob Zuma. And two VIP tickets so he can wear it to the World Cup final. His was the biggest chuffing brainwave since Einstein invented that E equals whatever formula thing it was that the old mad-haired fogey came up with.

The rugby-in-Soweto bright spark’s suggestion led to, on the eve of the most human-spirited World Cup this planet will ever witness, the most beautiful nation-building exercise our beloved country has seen since Madiba wore Francois Pienaar’s jersey and lifted the rugby World Cup trophy at Ellis Park 15 years ago.

In celebration of these momentous events, Mark Berger, who goes around showing people how to shift from convincing themselves the world will end tomorrow to believing they too can make it a far better place in which to live, has sent me a very soul-stirring and heartwarming article… which follows this introduction.

Read… and be inspired. If you’re not inspired, then bugger off to Perth (if you’re not already there and boring everybody to death with your tales of doom)… I’ve personally had quite enough of you lot. Bloody agents!

Ah, that feels better. On with the show…

All pictures courtesy of Sport24.co.za

The Story of the Pessimist, the Optimist and the Realist.

Howzit

Did you hear the one about the optimist who accidentally fell from the roof of a 100-storey building? Someone down on the 50th floor saw him falling past an open window saying: “So Far So Good!”

On Saturday I witnessed an historic event – two South African rugby teams playing in a Super 14 final at the Orlando Stadium in Soweto. It was amazing to see the stadium full of cheering rugby fans, the cacophony of droning vuvuzelas, the colourful makarapas and President Zuma pitching up to greet the players before kick-off. For an optimist like me, this was a significant event, one which brought back powerful emotional memories of Rugby World Cup 1995. (Although back then my team won the game…)

A Bulls rugby fan attempts an opskop during a township gumboot dancing competition with a traditional dancer outside Orlando Stadium on Saturday. Mooi, man! Pic: Lefty Shivambu / Gallo Images

Of course the pessimists will say it was a non-event, a sham, nothing more than a shortlived publicity stunt for political gain. The realists will say it was only a rugby game; South Africa has much more pressing (and depressing) issues to overcome.

Henry Ford once said: “Whether you think you can or you think you can’t – you are right.” I think the same applies to belief in the future success of our country – if you think we can or you think we can’t – you are right! It depends upon whether you are a pessimist, optimist or realist.

Right now, the pessimists are having a field day regarding South Africa. Like Karoo sheep they will bleat about Crime, Corruption, Malema, Zuma, The Erosion of Land Rights, Senseless Farm Murders, the Crumbling Justice System, Poor Service Delivery, Nationalisation of Mines, Unemployment and Cadre Deployment et al.

And they are absolutely RIGHT! Every one of these issues is evidence of their being right. We face massive challenges, challenges which the pessimists believe we as a nation will not be able to overcome. They insist that our country, like the optimist who fell off the building, is falling rapidly towards a major disaster. In their opinion it’s only a matter of time before the mango really hits the fan. They repeatedly tell the optimists to get out of denial and start facing the grim reality of what, in their opinion, is the inevitable decline of another African economy. Just look at the evidence from up north they say, from Mad Bob to Gaddafi and in between, to see where we are going to end up.

SARU president Oregan Hoskins sings the national anthem stukkend while President zuma looks on the verge of a good blub over the nationbuilding significance of what's going down in Soweto on Saturday Pic: Duif du Toit / Gallo Images

The optimists, on the other hand, have to range far and wide (just like Karoo sheep) to find meagre pickings of hope. After some reflection they might mention our Rapidly Improving Infrastructure, Major Intersections Being Rebuilt, Awesome New Airports, The Gautrain, Bus Rapid Transit System, Tax Collection Efficiency, Our Stable Currency, Declining Inflation, Solid Banking System and Our Free Press. Not to mention that we are about to host the biggest sporting event in the world right now. They will ask if you have noticed the side mirror socks and SA flags on so many cars, showing a growing groundswell of support for Bafana Bafana to play their hearts out and make ALL OF US proud.

The optimists may also remind you to take a good look at the overall state of our economy today, compared to 1994, as evidence of how far we have come as a nation.

And THEY too, are absolutely RIGHT. Every one of these points is a real reason to believe, a reason to feel positive that we as a nation can survive, thrive and succeed. Each one of these are real achievements, concrete evidence that we can get things done and make significant progress, despite our many challenges.

And what of the realists? They will most likely take another perspective, a look at the bigger picture and ask three vital questions:

  1. How is South Africa REALLY doing?
  2. How is the REST OF THE WORLD doing in comparison?
  3. What sort of shape is our whole PLANET in right now?

Some answers they may give us would be:

  1. How are we really doing? Realistically, we are doing OK, with lots to be proud of and lots to be concerned about, in equal measure. It really comes down to a question of what you choose to focus on. More importantly, it comes down to what each of us is actually doing to make things better. Worrying achieves nothing; it simply creates stress, fear and negativity. Waiting for a political solution is a waste of valuable time. Taking action to make a difference breeds real change, positivity and optimism.
  2. How is the rest of the world doing? Thailand just had 88 deaths due to political infighting in Bangkok. Europe is facing a major Euro currency crisis. Greece and Spain (and probably more to come) are in deep financial trouble. So deep that France is threatening to pull out of the Eurozone. Britain has lost faith in their politicians. Every sixth child in Germany is on welfare. Volcanic ash is causing regular mayhem over parts of Europe. A friend recently returned from a two-week driving holiday in Italy. He tells me that they have numerous, massive potholes which make ours seem tiny by comparison. The USA is facing its biggest oil spill disaster ever. They also found a large, (malfunctioning) car bomb in Times Square on May 1. And they still owe around US $400 trillion to somebody – the world’s largest budget deficit. Australia faces issues like refugee boats, teen pregnancy and major drug abuse among their youth. A recent survey found that the Aussie population feels that their government is interfering way too much in all aspects of their lives. Sounds familiar?
  3. What about our planet? Right now, she is struggling with a net population growth of some 200 000 new humans per day – that’s an extra one million every five days. We are literally swarming like ants and the impact is showing. So we are seeing global warming, earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes and other planetary disruptions. Some even say that the melting ice caps could affect the delicate weight balance and cause our earth to shift on her axis – then we will see some major SHI(F)T happen – in our lifetime!


And as I write all of this, I can hear the pessimists bleating again: SO WHAT Mark, two wrongs don’t make a right, get with the programme, who cares about the rest of the world when our country is going to the dogs?

Rugby fans, who usually just sing "Ole, Ole" like they're at a bullfight or something give the old vuvuzelas, the noise-making instrument of choice for black soccer fans, a good paaaarp at the Super 14 final Pic: Lee Warren / Gallo Images

Listen ouens, I am only going to say this only once: The world is your oyster and you can choose to go and live anywhere you like. The choices are vast. The truth is that WHEREVER YOU GO, YOU TAKE YOURSELF WITH YOU!  You will still wake up every day and have to look in the mirror at your optimistic, pessimistic or realistic face. And if you have reason to complain about SA, you will most likely find as many reasons to complain about your new country, your neighbours, politicians, the weather, rising prices, bureaucracy, traffic, systems, language and food. Granted you will probably feel safer and more secure regarding violent crime, but will you feel HAPPY? Happiness comes from within and everywhere you go you will still face challenges. Different challenges maybe, but no less difficult to overcome.


And what of feeling secure? Helen Keller said: “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”

I am somewhat concerned about the future of our planet. I do not always feel 100% safe in my country right now. But I am 100% happy and confident it will improve. My life has always been a daring adventure. And, most importantly, I am doing something positive to make a difference instead of sitting around waiting for the world to change. Every month, I work with hundreds of my countrymen to improve their attitudes, productivity, optimism, efficiency, profitability, motivation and team work. At the workplace, I see people of all colours, religions and creeds, male and female, old and young, integrating and working together to make things better. I see the shift happening amongst leaders, staff and their customers. On Saturday, in Soweto, I saw that shift begin to happen socially, outside the workplace, in the townships, which is where the real work still needs to be done. I saw the birth of hope.

On selected weekends, I assist groups of brave individuals to take a profound journey deep inside and discover what distorted beliefs are running their lives. I witness “strangers” sharing their true feelings with other “strangers” and thereby becoming friends. I see people dropping their masks and prejudices, being completely authentic with others and thereby undergoing profound transformation, like caterpillars becoming butterflies. I see hope being restored and deep human bonds being formed, regardless of race or age or religious belief. I see the light begin to shine from within, as we strip away the darkness of depression, fear, self loathing and negative conditioning. I see extreme pessimists make a complete pendulum swing through realism to optimism. It is the most rewarding work I have ever done in my life.

Some oke gives us horns to show that, in fact, Bulls fans have been wearing an Afrikaner variation of the makarapa for some time now Pic: Duif du Toit / Gallo Images

All of the above gives me joy and makes my life meaningful. It gives me reason to believe, because I SEE IT HAPPEN. I do not read the newspapers, because they mostly tell me what is going wrong. I remain focused on what is REALLY GOING ON, and find that there is much to be optimistic about. I realise that it is up to each individual to first change themselves and then help others do the same, if we are to have a safer, kinder, more conscious and compassionate world.

Woodrow Wilson said: “You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand.”

Our own Johnny Clegg sang: “It’s a CRUEL, CRAZY, BEAUTIFUL world.”

I believe the world appears to be Cruel to the Pessimists, Crazy to the Realists and Beautiful to the Optimists.

Which one are you?

* Mark Berger is the CEO of Mark Berger Training, a Cape Town based organisation specialising in Unlocking Human Potential. He has been a professional speaker since 1996 and is currently president of the Cape Town Chapter of the Professional Speakers Association of SA. He has become well known for his uniquely pro-South African newsletters and a blog which mysteriously manages to travel electronically all over the known world. To read some examples of these newsletters visit his website.

Heart & Sole Tour – Day 22: Beautiful ubuntu for lunch… before we grind to a horrible halt

Three gee. 3G. My newly fave number and letter. The re-entry of 3G internet connectivity into my life means that I can (possibly) avoid blogging suicide after days in the Vodacom Desert and get a post out to my Heartpeople. I’m sorry.

And this is a post of two halves. Yes, the joy and the sorrow. From high to low. Just like the story of The Heart and Sole Tour. Rollercoasterness, babies! With your permission, I’ll give you the bad news first. Yes? OK. Good.

Here’s the thing. The unavoidable, somewhat inevitable, awful, chuffing nightmarish thing. After three weeks of toiling up mountains in absurd heat, rain, majestic electrical thunderstorms and a spot of hail, The Heart & Sole Tour has come to a grinding halt. Why? No money. Geen geld. Asinamali.

A humungous thank you to all of you who have contributed dosh to us but we simply do not have enough to continue. Apart from our “Spirit of Ubuntu” lunch (which I will shortly pictorialise for you) we had a bad day on Monday. Searing heat, virtually no hard shoulder on which to cocoon ourselves from flying trucks, crazymaking and potentially dangerous potholes and very, very, very tired bodies and minds.

The Heartman still managed to push himself 32km or so away from Engcobo towards Queenstown. But, because of the heat from hell, we only really rolled off after 5pm and, eventually, at after eight, we gave up and drove to Queenstown to rest minds and bodies. In fact, when we found a place to sleep, I didn’t so much find the bed as the bed found me. We came together as one. No shower. No brushing of teeth. El Collapso.

The next day was our birthday. Yes. Ours. Both born on January 19. Similar characters. With differences. I woke up The Heartman to give him a present. I had thought of getting him a pair of grey socks from Pep Stores, I told him, but I had something better. “Whashat?” he gurgled from his nightly slightly parallel universe. “Look. We’re not going to get much further. We’re knackered. We need a break. We need more funds. It’s your birthday. Spend as much of it as you can with your woman and your dogs at home.” His eyes opened. Wide. “Go. Get a flight from East London. Rest. Raise money. See you on Sunday.” He grinned and said something about Hatman not being so bad after all. He went. He’s recovering. And approaching some corporates about giving us the support we need to finish what we started and achieve our objective of raising awareness of the madness that are the millions of landmines still blowing off the limbs of people all over the world.

We are excruciatingly aware of the near-apocalyptic horror that is post-quake Haiti. It is only right that the compassionate eye of the world should be trained in that direction. But we are not asking for much. Just enough to cover fuel, food and airtime coasts to cover the rest of the Heart & Sole Tour from near Queenstown to Cape Town. We are closing in on the 600km mark, which means that old Heartie and I are a third of the way into this beautiful adventure.

The Heartman has used his rent money. I have exhausted my savings. It has been a giant leap of faith. But, even as we hang suspended somewhere along the arc of that leap, we still believe. I have always seen the two of us rolling into Cape Town and that vision is as clear and golden as the day this crazy wonderful idea was born. Please continue to help us achieve that.

OK. I promised you some snaps depicting what I am calling the “Spirit of Ubuntu” lunch. Quick preamble. We ride out of Engcobo on Monday. Blisteringly hot. We find a couple of trees offering shade. There are a few colourful rondavel huts nearby. The children come. Then the adults. The questions about the bicycle that has lost a wheel. The smiles. The shaking of heads. Our new friends sit around us and talk animatedly about the mad mlungus (white people). Heartie naps. I talk with the small crowd we have collected. They are hungry. Yes, we have some food (stored for camping) in the truck. Ah, I will cook it for lunch says Mama Cordelia, clearly the Big Mama of the community.

I bring out Imana beef mince, rice, a couple of onions, tinned tomatoes and some Aromat spices. Mama C sends oldest daughter Nosipho on a long walk to the spaza shop to get paraffin for the stove she has conjured up from a nearby hut. Pots and spoons magically appear. Mama Cordelia cooks lunch for us, her two daughters and assorted new arrivals, numbering about eight. It is beautiful. We sit on the grass under the trees next to the road to Queenstown eating Mama C’s impromptu lunch. Deliciousness. It tasted something like this…

Our Heartie is chuffed to have lunch served up for him by the redoubtable and indefatigable Mama Cordelia

This shy and delightful child rocks up for lunch. Nobody knows where her mother is. It doesn't matter. She is part of a bigger family. The community. She is duly fed...

Yes. I thought you might want to have another look at this adorable little girl. So I took this. Are you glad I did?

Mama Cordelia, unnamed sweetheart, Mamasolo, me and Nosipho devour the "Spirit of Ubuntu" lunch. Yes, those are (yugh) "Crocs" on my feet. Heartman gave them to me. Because I left my Havaianas in Umdloti. There. That's my story. And, yes, I'm sticking to it! Pic: Heartman

Ndiyabulela (thank-you in Xhosa), Mama Cordelia. And to your lovely daughters. And we’re sorry that we couldn’t accept your offer for us to marry them, even if they do cook as beautifully as you do!

Right. Back on the road…

Heartie gives a thumbs-up to the sign registering 117km to Queenstown. But the heat and dreadful road surface took its toll... Pix: Hatman

And I was going to give you a small closing ceremony provided by Mother Nature as we drove towards Queenstown but the internet connection has slowed down in solidarity with the Heart & Sole Tour. I’ll try again later. In the meantime, if you are able to help in any way – no matter how small – to fund our ride, here are the bank details…

G. M. Brink, Standard Bank, Musgrave Rd, Durban. Acc. 056706804 / Branch Code 042626.

Thank you!

* And, should you want to read Shaun Trennery’s interview with Geoff “Heartman” Brink on the excellent izimvo.com website, please go right on over to here.