By Craig Timberg
Washington Post Foreign Service
Monday, July 3, 2006; E01
SOWETO, South Africa -- David Ndlovu, 33, is plenty excited about the World Cup. Watching Germany play Argentina in a quarterfinal last week in a dark, smoky tavern near his home, Ndlovu leapt to his feet in ecstasy at one point. Then a few minutes later, he folded his hands over his face in despair.
His mood swings were but a faint hint of the fervor Ndlovu and millions of other soccer fans expect when the 2010 World Cup comes to South Africa, bringing the eyes of the world -- and presumably a deep, rushing river of cash -- to a nation once known mostly for its odious racial policies.
South Africans, who hosted the 1995 Rugby World Cup and the 2003 Cricket World Cup, say they are eager to have soccer's World Cup to showcase their increasingly stable, prosperous country and Africa itself, which has not held a sporting event of such a massive scale.
Yet many, like Ndlovu, also are determined to cash in on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. South Africans are preparing to rent out their houses, peddle food from mobile kitchens, shuttle fans to games and sell Vuvuzelas, this nation's colorful, ear-splittingly loud, horn-like contribution to the world of stadium noisemakers.
Ndlovu, a corporate customer relations representative with a shaved head, broad shoulders and a mustache, has even bigger plans. "Everybody will be selling Vuvuzelas," he explained between sips of Heineken. "You must try to stand out."
His dream is to open a neighborhood bar, much like the one he was sitting in on this night. Dozens of soccer fans -- mostly young, mostly men -- gathered at a bar called "The Rock!" to drink $1.50 beers and imbibe the testosterone-heavy camaraderie generated by watching televised sports together. (Most, like Ndlovu, rooted for Argentina.)
Ndlovu figures the demand will be even greater in 2010. With tickets running beyond the means of average South Africans -- per capita income is $3,630 a year -- most will have to settle for watching the games on television. In Germany, some fans have watched in bars, while others have taken in the games at "Fan Fests," outdoor viewing areas with giant screens run by Cup organizers in host cities.
Ndlovu even expects some foreign tourists will be looking for places to watch games on the nights they don't have tickets. Soweto, though now a tranquil and mostly middle-class bedroom community, is one of South Africa's leading attractions because of its historic, leading role in the struggle against apartheid.
Since the end of apartheid in 1994, soccer and capitalism have arguably become the leading national pastimes. The semi-annual battles between Soweto's two professional teams, the Orlando Pirates and the Kaizer Chiefs, are raucous, passionate affairs, pitting neighborhood against neighborhood, fathers against sons and even husbands against their wives.
And the accumulation of wealth -- not to mention its display -- is equally close to the heart of South Africans. Even in poorer areas, it's common to strain incomes to the breaking point to buy the sleekest possible car and the flashiest possible clothes. Black leather jackets do more than ward off the cold of South Africa's winter; they are essential status symbols for the young, hip and well-employed. Many of the soccer fans gathered at The Rock! last Friday evening were wearing them.
Economists warn that the World Cup will not prove to be the financial boon that many South Africans imagine. Stadiums across the country must be prepared for competition. Transportation networks, sports facilities, power systems and airports are getting upgrades that, taken together, will cost billions of dollars. That's serious money for a country with overtaxed schools and medical systems, not to mention some of the world's highest rates of violent crime.
Any one of those problems might be alleviated with the money being set aside for hosting the World Cup, said Achille Mbembe, a professor at the University of Witwatersrand's Institute for Social & Economic Research in Johannesburg.
"I'm not sure it's money well spent," Mbembe said during an interview in Johannesburg.
In fact, Mbembe, originally from the African soccer powerhouse of Cameroon, said he would rather see serious money invested in making South Africa's struggling national team competitive. That would do more for African pride than even a successful hosting of the World Cup, Mbembe said.
Yet at The Rock!, the cost of the event was much less of a concern than the amount that might trickle down to Ndlovu and his fellow patrons.
Madoda Nkosi, 30, a plastics engineer, became so overwhelmed with talk of the money to be made that he began reciting, as if in a trance, the various currencies that soccer tourists would bring in their wallets: euros, dollars, pounds, yen. The list went on.
"My dreams," Nkosi said. "I'm definitely sure they will come true."
Nearby, Busi Mayisela, 26, said she intends to see every match she can along with her infant son, Tumelo. When he turns 5 in 2010, he'll be plenty mature to appreciate soccer matches, she said.
Tumelo will need to spend his time somewhere, because his mother intends to rent out their eight-room house to the highest bidder for the duration of the event.
"Everything will be happening here," Mayisela said. "We won't be glued to our TVs. We'll be having an opportunity to experience it."
After a few more Heinekens -- as well as some Hansas and Windhoeks, other beers popular in Soweto -- the soccer fans and would-be entrepreneurs at The Rock! could even imagine South Africa's team making a respectable run at the title four years from now. Maybe the quarterfinals? Maybe the semis? That would be a first for an African team, as well as an amazing leap forward for a team that did not qualify for the 32-team event in Germany this year.
Ndlovu's expectations were more realistic.
"Not to embarrass [us]? Yes," he said. "But to lift the trophy? No."
But across the room, Tshepo Mothibi, 29, a physician, was bursting with excitement as he contemplated 2010. "We're going to win the World Cup!"