Meaning to Life

Healthy modern Japanese error atonement

With the South African 2010 FIFA World Cup in its final stages I have found another surprising smiling winner. I had already awarded the Danish footballer Simon Poulsen a personal award for his Buddha Smile but now I have discovered another. Japanese referee Yuichi Nishimura gets my runners up medal although if points were also awarded for breaking with tradition he would perhaps get the first prize.

Nishimura San was the referee appointed for the Brazil versus Netherlands quarter-final match and in spite of his cultural background: usually requiring that all official matters be taken extremely seriously and should errors be made, well… the ultimate atonement, of course, is seppuku (hara-kiri), he completely dispensed with aeons of tradition by chuckling in front of the world when he made his mistake.

Andre Ooijer (wearing the unlucky 13 shirt) had committed a relatively minor infringement by kicking the ball away contrary to the spirit of the game and Nishimura San came running over initially brandishing a red card. He soon realised the error and the funny side by chuckling as he proudly thrust the correct yellow card up in the air in front of the extremely relieved Andre Ooijer.

It has to be said that Nishimura was credited with an excellent refereeing performance at this and other games and Andre Ooijer also played his part in a positive result for the Netherlands which eventually took them through to the final.

So well done Nishimura San, de heer Ooijer, Simon Poulsen and last but not least South Africa.

 

 

Simon Says, “Smile; the Buddha would”

I have already chosen my own world cup winner. He is Simon Poulsen of the Danish team and I award him a winner’s medal for the nicest smile ever for scoring a goal and the opportunity to see his beatific smile unimpeded by his fellow players jumping all over him in congratulations. The simple reason is that he scored his goal and not Denmark’s goal (that is presumably why they are referred to as own goals) not necessarily at the right end, or perhaps at the right end but not in the right 45 minute period. Whichever way you look at it he didn’t get something quite right but the Buddha smile most certainly he did.

Simon says "smile" - the winningest smile in football

For a little extra World Cup entertainment I have focussed more on the football fans as my contribution to the South African World Cup fun with these videos:

For the full range of videos: Meaning To Life video archive

Kurdistan to hold 2012 World Cup (a bit unofficial)

Perhaps we should just get one little thing straight first off. The second “F” in FIFA stands for football so perhaps it would be reasonable for the “whole” world to call this sport football although one inventive (or condescending – still not quite sure which) American friend of mine came up with the notion that it could be called kickball although I didn’t hear him suggest the Americans could by way of two-sided compromise offer to change their sport’s name, for example, to bruteball.

I had heard that Cost Ricans were mad about football although a swift periscope-like peek around the world right now and it does beg the question as to where people are not mad about football. I tried scouring the planet -not with a periscope I might add, that would have taken me a very long time indeed- and came up with a short list. Not only are they not mad about it in these countries they did not even bother to enter or turn up for the pre-qualifying events in spite of being members of FIFA. Bhutan, Central African Republic, Eritrea, Guam, São Tomé and Príncipe, Brunei, Philippines and Papua New Guinea are the culprits.

As is usual there are those that spurn their opportunities in life and there are those that hanker after that which those that spurn have. By easy reference I refer to my Kurdistani hairdresser. Yes, mad about football and he is convinced that Kurdistan will be competing in the next World Cup. He said that Iraq will have to give back the Kurdish members of its team. At that point in the conversation my mind had too many things to consider politico-logistically but I did investigate later and discovered there is a very vibrant non-FIFA World Cup which Kurdistan hopes to host in 2012 and a whole stream of regional associations, unrecognised states, autonomous regions and minorities that would love, just like Kurdistan, to be participating in the official World Cup. Shame on you Bhutan, Central African Republic, Eritrea, Guam, São Tomé and Príncipe, Brunei, Philippines and Papua New Guinea.

The photograph below was outside a very ordinary store at about 9 am in a San Jose shopping street where I was surprised to find that the Ticos (male Costa Ricans) were not watching anything remotely live but a rehash of an important World Cup qualifying match that had taken place the day before. In fact, in the 94th minute (usually of a 90 minute contest don’t forget) of their all-important encounter that unforgettable night before with the USA they conceded a goal which prevented what had been looking like their direct entry to the South African world party. They had one more chance, in fact two more chances, through two very lively and hard fought games with Uruguay. In spite of the millions of Ticos and Ticas glued this time to live television sets urging their team on, the presumed at least equal urging going on in Uruguay held sway and Uruguay by the margin of another slender goal went through to South Africa.

Ticos are football mad. Photographic evidence suggests Ticas less so!

A quick look at the calibre and ranking of the two teams who barred their way indicates that Costa Rica are absolutely no push overs. Uruguay have actually won the World Cup in the past, though it be quite a distant past, and are currently ranked 16 in the world, the USA are ranked number 14 and both have started this year’s tournament very solidly and that my friends is precisely how Costa Rica have so narrowly failed to win the World Cup on this occasion.

 

 

Wherever the Spirit Takes Me!

Where I am has been quite fully explained but how and why rather less so. This could be considered relevant especially as I gave most friends and acquaintances the distinct impression that I was headed for Managua in Nicaragua.  I too had the distinct impression I was headed for Managua in Nicaragua. In fact my travel plans had hardly been less firm in that I even had an air ticket that clearly stated Managua in Nicaragua.

The crux of the matter was an admittedly tight 45 minute turn around to make the connecting flight in Fort Lauderdale after leaving Santo Domingo. It was so tight that the check-in assistant in Santo Domingo suggested I might like to take my roll-on case on to the flight with me – for some reason unknown to me she wouldn’t let me check the case all the way through to Managua. I hesitated on that point because I had to unfortunately throw out anything resembling a container with liquid in it including items I had recently replaced after having had to throw them out on leaving Lima airport a few weeks before.

Immediately I boarded the aircraft the flight attendant announced that all the rear overhead luggage spaces were full and invited any more passengers sitting to the rear to bring their baggage to the front for storage. “And where would you be travelling to, sir,” she chirpily asked as I handed her my case. “Managua,” I replied of course thinking that everybody knew that already. “Don’t worry then sir we will see that your case is checked right through to Managua for you,” she reassured me.  “Great, wonderful, perfect, that is what I wanted originally,” I more than chirpily extolled. Super spiritual omen I thought for this new journey of mine as I settled into my Spirit Airlines seat. About 10 minutes after take-off the same attendant had kindly remembered me and kindly came to inform me of a change. My case was now stored in the hold, would not be going through to Managua and I would have to pick it up in the regular way and pass through security. My chirpiness dissipated and I forgot the spiritual association for quite a while.

At Fort Lauderdale I ran everywhere it was possible to run between points and breathlessly asked the attendant at check in if I still had time for the Managua flight. “Not a lot,” she said but valiantly offered to give it a go. Unfortunately the next piece of “Spiritually” misplaced information added significantly to the unfortunate delay. The telephone assistant that I called in Florida prior to booking had informed me that a one-way ticket to Managua was fine; no onward travel documentary proof would be needed. Unfortunately the check-in assistant had doubts about this, went to check with her boss and then insisted I had to buy a return ticket. I thought that was the end of that; where the heck would I be able to buy such a ticket at this stage and in time? “Right here,” my new found angel said as my sinking spirits rose again. She also offered that I could purchase a fully refundable ticket just in case I wanted to change my plans afterwards (what a novel way to get around the bureaucratic nonsense of satisfying immigration requirements I thought, although I didn’t give it a lot of thought because I had this image in my head of a plane, my plane already taxiing down the runway).

With all the necessary tickets in one hand but also still the infernal case in the other because there was no way the case was going to make the flight unless it was with me, my new-found guiding angel had insisted. At this point I thought it was a done deal. I thought that once you were checked in they didn’t actually go without you barring extreme delay so I stopped sprinting while maintaining a rapid walking pace. I passed very swiftly through the remaining security checks to arrive at gate H6 and just couldn’t understand why the door was shut and not even lots of people milling about at the entrance like usual (I quickly adjusted to that in full recognition that nearly everybody, okay everybody, was already on board. The gate was shut stupid, because the plane was indeed about to taxi down that runway!) The sole remaining member of the ground staff calmly pointed out that once the connecting canopy was rolled back then that was it. “But there is my plane, all they have to do is open the door and I could jump the distance,” I pathetically whined. “Sorry, canopy back no can do!” she repeated.  Spirits had naturally spiraled in the downward direction but there was still some life in the optimistic standpoint. I was watching the plane and it did not move, not one inch. “What,” I offered, “if there is a delay for some reason then surely you could let me on, and you wouldn’t have to move anything if I jumped? “ “No sir, you don’t seem to understand, the canopy is BACK!” she re-repeated. Rather a nice personal case in point of actually NOT WANTING to understand, don’t you think?

I sauntered, perhaps it would be fairer to say more between a trudge and a saunter, back to the lady who had handled me at the check in. “Oh, but sir, you can get on the next flight,” she enthusiastically offered. I had to applaud her optimism but for the first time I was more informed than her, regarding flights at least. Spiritual flights to Managua were just a weekly event! “What else have you got then to offer, leaving Fort Lauderdale tomorrow in the Central or South America direction,” I asked. Now this was going to be stretching the limits of that geography for dummies course because we had no map just a list of names and doesn’t San Juan sound like San José to you? It was all in all quite chaotic because my dear angel kept interspersing with places on today’s list so from time to time she threw in Managua again and even Santo Domingo where she had forgotten I had just emerged from – I guessed that was just to keep the game of raising and lowering spirits going. She would mention a place and sometimes I would have to ask her or anybody around which country that might be in? Colombia came up a few times and I don’t like to admit that I was swayed by all the bad press that the country gets regarding its drug related problems –shame on me for toeing the mass media line on this occasion.

In the far from comprehensive list you will now know that I chose San José carefully separating it and myself from the capital of that American dependency not many miles from the Dominican Republic where I had just come from called Puerto Rico. As this was quite a spiritual journey then I guess those Colombian drug barons must have got wind of my decision. In the same way I had seen the plane taxiing down the runway I now saw them crying volubly into their beer lamenting the extraordinary spending wealth I would not be taking to Columbia, not to mention poor old Nicaragua. Somewhere out there I suppose I owe Columbia something and probably Nicaragua too!

Footnote: That’s the Spirit!

In full recognition of my value to their future and in response to my explanation that their misinformation had caused me to miss the flight by the skin of my teeth Spirit Airlines have quite honorably and fairly credited me with the US$110 that they charged for needing to rearrange my flight to you know where. I am now very much looking forward to knowing where the Spirit will take me next.