Seriously, Fuck Rustenburg

So, I've now been in the RSA for almost two weeks, and there's a couple more things I've learned. Well, at least one.

What we call traffic lights or stop lights or just plain old lights are not called traffic lights or stop lights or just plain old lights in the RSA: they're called robots. Why are they called robots? Who the fuck knows. But they are.

Anyway, you may remember from a week ago how I complained that Rustenburg was a disaster. Well, it still is. While we got out of the car park in under three metric hours this time, it still took me the entire length of half time to find a bathroom. Not just to go to the bathroom; no, of course the line was long for the toilet, but just to fucking find a fucking bathroom. I walked half way around the stadium, asked people, begged people, threatened to castrate people, and no one knew where one fucking bathroom was. Then I found a bathroom, (or was it THE bathroom), and it was impossible to get to because right next to it was THE food concession selling place, and the lines were so long and the area so cramped that you couldn't fanegle yourself through the area to actually get to the area where you could wait in an area to use the bathroom. I mean seriously, how good was the halucinogen that the FIFA executives must have been on when they decided, “Boy, Rustenburg really is the shit! Let's use that as one of the ten host sites for the world's third-largest international sporting event.”

But I digress.

Jo'Burg is not as bad as everyone says. Sure, much of the streets and buildings are run down, people are everywhere begging for money, armed security personnel walk the streets, but there are no 0-16 football teams here, so it's slightly more well off than Detroit. Most everyone is really friendly, the roads are much better paved than in Houston, and so long as you keep your wits about you and don't flaunt 100 rand bills (or 5 cent coins in Berea) down a back alley (or anywhere in Berea) at night (or any time of day in Berea) by yourself (or in any size group in Berea) you'll be fine (except in Berea).

In other news, I've been to three games in three days in three different stadia in two cities and two provinces. I saw Argentina sexually abuse the Korea Republic 4-1, I saw a Malian referee sexually abuse the United States in a 2-2 draw against Slovenia, and then I saw the logistical nightmare of Rustenburg sexually abuse 32,000 fans who went to watch Australia draw Ghana 1-1.

On the bright side, I will only head back to Rustenburg no more than one time during the World Cup and no more than zero times after the World Cup.

Fuck Rustenburg.

But I digress.

I really don't have much more to say. I just need to vent after two trips to a place no one in his or her right or left mind would ever consider making a voyage to. Rustenburg really is terrible. I mean seriously. It's horrible.

Today, I'm going to go watch Brazil and Cote d'Ivoire in Soccer City, but first I'm going on a tour of Soweto. Should be fun. If you haven't figured it out yet, you'll get pictures when you get pictures, which will probably be when I get back to the U.S. because I really don't care enough about you to give you the pictures you want.

Your's Truly,
The Ambassador