The World Cup

When reading books or watching TV, I often find myself transported to another world, another idea, another reality. Watching the finals of the Womens World Cup today, I forgot for a little while, that I was in Vanuatu. But then I’d look out the concrete door frame and see my family’s bush kitchen, the extra tin propped up against the side to keep out the wind; see the chickens pecking away, unfettered, in the grass; hear the laughter and conversations of the women by the fire. And back to the TV, back to my nostalgia of a game not played in far too long. But then I’d listen to the announcers on TV, commenting on the game in French, and after a disorienting moment, I’d be thinking in French. Thinking of my classes at Carleton; thinking of watching Tim Rake act out a scene for us; thinking of our 8^th grade trip to France, and my host family there. And back to the TV, back to the newfound sense of patriotism I feel now that I live so far away. But then Tony would say “Be Japan bae i win! US emi no tuf. Japan emi nambawan.” And my head would spin for a second, attempting to reorient myself to Bislama, before uttering some underwhelming retort. The constant spinning, jarring, reorientation to my surroundings. The forgetting, the remembering, the thoughts of home, the thoughts of friends and places I wouldn’t see for so long, and the reminders of the place that is my home for this time…for me, the World Cup today was more than just a soccer game. It really was a world-wide experience.