Bear with me while I tell you a story about a taxi full of people crazy enough to drive from Khayelitsha to Soweto to watch a 1-1 derby draw. A man named Beaver and I, the journalist, took the Soccer Laduma Supporter's Club on the road.
We left the office at 6.30pm after a full day of work on Thursday, and walked from Green Point to the taxi rank in Cape Town's CBD. Beaver had just a Kaizer Chiefs backpack, and I had my laptop bag, a bag for clothes, a bag with a work camera in it (which I'm still not really sure how to use), a tripod and a massive banner – I did not carry them with much comfort.
We got to the taxi rank and marched past scores of people to the back of one line, which would take us to Site C, Khayelitsha. Our minibus to Soweto was supposed to leave from Khayelitsha at 7.00pm; at 8.30pm, we were still in the line at the taxi rank in town. Beaver turned to me, with a smile on his face (he's always smiling!), and said, "I'm starting to panic now."
We eventually caught our taxi and made it to Site C. It was completely dark, except for fires that were burning sporadically, as we navigated the alleys between the houses until we stepped into one. I had children pulling at my jeans and the only word I could make out was "mlungu".
Inside the house were six men, all sitting, in Kaizer Chiefs shirts. There were Amakhosi posters from years gone by scattered around the place, some of them from ancient Soccer Laduma magazines; this made me smile. Glamour Boys stickers could be found on every appliance and the kettle even had the club's colours.
The men sat and talked about Kaizer Chiefs matters for a long time in isiXhosa. I only understood the odd players' name. I eventually pointed to a poster on the wall of an old Chiefs team and said it was my favorite. They agreed, one of them exclaiming: "Yes! Zwane! Mbesuma! Nzama! Baloyi! Those were the days!"
Beaver said to me, in disgust, how that team was the greatest team in Africa that year, and yet they didn't win the league.
"And it was all Jabu Pule's fault! The guy went AWOL before the game against Free State Stars, we were supposed to win that one. Then we lost and lost the league," he lamented.
Someone came and took my bags and walked out the house to place them in our minivan. I followed suit about half an hour later, and at 9.30pm we were on the road. We drove to Stellenbosch, where we picked up three Orlando Pirates fans.
They hopped in and we immediately started chatting football. They spoke English where they could, but for the most part the point was too good and excited not to be said in isiXhosa.
We stopped at a couple of petrol stations along the way and each time we got back into the taxi, the bus would erupt in song. Songs about Chiefs, songs about Pirates, everyone sang all of them.
"Ndiyamthand'u Jessica – uJessica une skirt esimnyama, esimnyama 'esino Zip ecaleni."
"Is that about Jessica Motaung (Kaizer Chiefs' marketing manager)?" I asked Beaver.
"Yes, it's about a black skirt with a zip on the side," he replied.
"Is it an insult?"
"No, we are praising her, even the Pirates fans."
uWilliam, who was sitting next to me, leaned over and said, "You see, for 90 minutes, it's battle and glory, other than that we are friends."
Tomorrow find out what happens when a taxi full of Soweto Derby supporters drives through two roadblocks near Bloemfontein.
