Yes that's me trying out a makarapa. Lord have mercy but World Cup fever is completely infectious. The t-shirt with the big old Africa on it is available at Markham's. Yes. The men's store. As most decent merch has been sold out (I am inwardly crying for a long sleeve Spain tee that I saw at Edgars) we're left with slim pickins. My own fault really, as I did not think I would be this struck by the fevah. I keep complaining how it really is a big rip-off and a money-making scheme and we, Joe and Jane Q Public, wont get much out of the whole deal...yada yada blue blada blada but here I am as excited as anybody else and blogging like my little old ticker depended on it. Indeed I need to go walking or jogging just to make sure ye olde hearte can handle all the excitement. It's really the boyf's fault as he's been excited since he attended the last WC in his homeland. He's gone vuvuzela mad and it's so funny and appallingly cute to see how much rhythm a mzungu can pick up on that thing. I for one cannot sound out a single note, scratch or honk. It's pathetic, and humbling. It shows how much enthusiasm is contained in just one donkey bray. He's been trying to explain the technique but I am musically disinclined. Or just not as African as he is sometimes. Go figure. Viva Afrika Borwa, viva.
Oh one more thing. The last time I noted as a fashion pitfall any combination of the impossible shade of yellow and green that most Bafana merch comes in was when I was about sixteen. Our librarian, poor lovely Mrs H (ag shame) had a vuvuzela-shaped skirt that was constructed in large vertical panels consecutively studied in green then yellow, yellow then green. I called it Monster from the Bog, after a movie of the same title we'd unearthed at someone's house. The song lyrics have long gone, but the image of that poor woman, doing her bit for South African team spirit and nation building, years before she thought we would need it, is a lesson in trend forecasting that is unsurpassed.
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