Less than fifteen years after the first democratic elections, the initial optimism seems to have left South Africa already. Commentators argue that the inclusive multiculturalism of the Rainbow Nation has made place for a more exclusive African identity. While Nelson Mandela reached his hand towards the former white oppressor, the new president, Thabo Mbeki, is focusing more on the Africanity of the nation. Alarmed by bad news about housing delivery, HIV Aids, press freedom and crime, it must be difficult to think about nation building though. Together with the sun, it seems, the rainbow has disappeared, and only dark clouds are left.
Last Saturday, however, all South Africans forgot about the problems facing their new country. Young and old, rich and poor, black and white, everbody supported the national rugby team in the World Cup in France. In an utterly boring final, the springboks/die bokke/Amabokoboko beat England 15-6. We watched the game in a local kebab outlet priding itself on its Mediterranean Cuisine. Even the security guys from the local shopping centre joined us. After all there was nobody on the street, not even criminals!
After the final whistle of the referee, a giant party started in Cape Town. To our surprise, the people flocking to Long Street represented the colours of the Rainbow Nation much better than the rugby team itself, which was mainly white. After all the segregation we had seen in Cape Town, it was refreshing to observe Whites, Coloureds and Blacks dancing and hugging and kissing each other, all being proudly South African and even more proudly drunk. As I had won the kitty of 300 Rand in the pub where we watched the game, it was not so difficult to join the party animals in their intoxication. When three beautiful Xhosa girls told me at least I looked like a South African, it really felt like a permit to sing Shosholoza and join the rest of the celebrations. Until the reality of another morning hit me, I was lucky enough to be part of the rainbow.
Last Saturday, however, all South Africans forgot about the problems facing their new country. Young and old, rich and poor, black and white, everbody supported the national rugby team in the World Cup in France. In an utterly boring final, the springboks/die bokke/Amabokoboko beat England 15-6. We watched the game in a local kebab outlet priding itself on its Mediterranean Cuisine. Even the security guys from the local shopping centre joined us. After all there was nobody on the street, not even criminals! 
After the final whistle of the referee, a giant party started in Cape Town. To our surprise, the people flocking to Long Street represented the colours of the Rainbow Nation much better than the rugby team itself, which was mainly white. After all the segregation we had seen in Cape Town, it was refreshing to observe Whites, Coloureds and Blacks dancing and hugging and kissing each other, all being proudly South African and even more proudly drunk. As I had won the kitty of 300 Rand in the pub where we watched the game, it was not so difficult to join the party animals in their intoxication. When three beautiful Xhosa girls told me at least I looked like a South African, it really felt like a permit to sing Shosholoza and join the rest of the celebrations. Until the reality of another morning hit me, I was lucky enough to be part of the rainbow.
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