Impossible is nothing!

About two years ago, there was a lot of talk on radio stations about the construction of both stadia and roads throughout the country. As a Capetonian, I was obviously more interested in what would be happening in my city, Cape Town. I listened with great interest as engineers reassured us that there'd be "minimal" disruption to the normal traffic. The cynic in me said, Ja, right! Then, in the 18 months leading up to the 2010 Soccer World Cup, I drove through the roadworks on Hospital Bend twice a day, from Monday to Friday. Every step of the way, I was simply fascinated at how cleverly everything was being done, with practically no impact on the traffic flow. I followed the construction with great interest, often craning my neck as I drove through the busy roadway. On a daily basis, you could see more and more additions, as different sections were completed. I had no idea, at that time, how it would actually feel once the month of World Cup matches arrived.

In April last year, I went to the Visitors' Centre at the Green Point Stadium (later renamed Cape Town Stadium) and sat through a presentation by an engineer, who explained in great detail how the different stadia were built, focussing on the one outside Nelspruit, called the Mbombela Stadium. Its striking features are its seats which look like zebra stripes and its metal scaffold-like structures that stand out like giraffes all round the stadium. Before the presentation, we were allowed to stand outside and watch the construction process. Interesting, but still I had no idea how the actual World Cup would feel, for us as South Africans.

The countdown started at some ridiculously high number - maybe 364 days? - and even then it was hard to relate to the event. Even closer to the time, 100 days, 50 days, 20 days, I still felt uninvolved, and thought that I'd get through the month unaffected, aloof - after all, I'm not even a soccer fan.

And how wrong I was to be proved! I'm not exactly sure when I started to "feel it", but it started with people blowing vuvuzelas in the streets of Cape Town one day, and a huge procession of people down Long Street, all clad in soccer regalia. Yes, the sound of the vuvuzelas gave me a headache, because for days people just kept blowing them. And then it was the 11th of June, with the opening ceremony at Soccer City. Even though we were allowed to leave work early that day, I stayed a bit too late and was driving home at that time. I got home in time for the 4pm match, though, and watched it eagerly: South Africa versus Mexico, which ended in a draw, 1-1. And I was hooked.

I've been following the games ever since, becoming increasingly "into" soccer, and changing my allegiance as my teams were eliminated. I was convinced Brazil would be in the finals, but of course they lost to Holland in the quarter finals! And now we're down to two more matches, the runners-up on Saturday night and the finals on Sunday night. People are starting to talk about how sad they're already feeling that it's almost all over, and I know exactly what they mean!I feel it too!

This week, on the night of the last match in Cape Town, I did the Fan Walk with three colleagues, because I just had to experience it on a match day. That was Tuesday, the 6th of July, and the match was Holland versus Uruguay. Most of the people on the Fan Walk were wearing orange, in support of Holland. I was supporting Uruguay, but the closest I came to indicating that support was not wearing orange, and waving my Brazilian flag! The atmosphere was unbelievable, so many people all heading down one road in the direction of the stadium. This was a huge thing for me, because I generally don't like being in a crowd, feeling claustrophobic when I don't have lots of room around me. But I did it, I walked with my colleagues until the stadium, experiencing the performances along the route, the food and craft stalls, the wacky people doing silly things just because, and the overwhelming feeling of celebration, festivity, carnival!

I knew I had to do it in a way that made sense to me, and over the years I've learnt how to pace myself with large gatherings - I have to stick to a manageable length of time, and not try to be what I'm not - so I took my leave at the stadium and walked all the way back. The night air was becoming icy, so I walked briskly, and in the end I was glad I'd taken it at that pace, because I went back to where my car was parked and drove home, getting there just in time to watch the match in the warmth and comfort of my home.

And now, with just two matches left, we're all starting to feel sad at the imminent end of this glorious month of soccer, this unbelievable experience we've all had as a nation. In a way I can't quite explain, this was as profound as our first democratic elections in 1994. In a crazy way, it feels even more significant, because this time we're all united behind one flag, all feeling like we're proudly South African, more in touch with our similarities than our differences, striving to show the world how great OUR country is.

Yes, I can feel it. It IS here. Now how do we hang onto it? And in honest acceptance that the intensity will lessen and the magic will fade, I have to ask myself, how do we as a nation proceed, how do we now channel this oneness, so that we keep focussing on what IS possible?

I love the slogan used by the organisers of the World Cup: Impossible is nothing!