On the way back to Brazil

I couldn't really think of a more ideal way to spend my six-hour layover on the way to Brazil. I spent the first two hours watching the World Cup quarterfinal between Brazil and Colombia, while dedicating the remaining hours to plowing through my stash of produce and blogging about the experience of watching the game at an airport food court.

When I got to the food court near my gate, it was full of people wearing yellow jerseys. Because Brazil and Colombia both have yellow jerseys and fans from each country yell "vamos" to cheer their team, the only way to tell which team someone was rooting for was to pay attention to when they were yelling (I guess you could also look at the name of the country on the jersey, but I was too busy paying attention to the game to notice). I settled into a corner next to the airport piano player and next to some Venezuelans.

When I sat down to watch the game, I wasn't sure who I wanted to win. After a quick reflection, I realized that I should probably want Brazil to win this game. The last time Brazil hosted the World Cup, 1950, it lost to Uruguay in the finals. The game is remembered by people in Brazil as one of the country's greatest tragedies. If Brazil were to have lost to Colombia, I would hate to arrive in Rio the morning after?

Why was I feeling so indifferent about this game? As much as I love soccer and the World Cup, I'm a bigger fan of responsible governance (Where do they sell responsible governance apparel? I need to get some of that). I don't think that spending $6 billion on a soccer tournament in a country with such inequality in terms of health and education is the best use of resources. 

I can still have these reservations while not wanting the country to go into a state of depression that could last for the entirety of my trip. In conclusion, vamos Brasil! (at least for this game)

I still like Colombia's coach and the fact that I might have seen him at Mount Sinai.

The ebbs and flows of the game were great. One bunch of yellow-clad fans would scream. Then the others would. Because it was a back and forth game with plenty to complain about (especially if you though Brazil should have been called for some yellow cards before their 40th foul), it was a very vocal group. The Venezuelans and I just watched, as did the piano player, who was able to simultaneously play and watch the game. She was, however, unable to match her song selection to the emotions of the game. If she were able to do that on the fly, she probably wouldn't be at Hartsfield Airport.

Things got a bit more exciting the second half when Colombia nearly tied the game up minutes before Brazil extended its margin to two goals. Then Colombia cut it to a one-goal game in the waning minutes, alowing the frantic atmosphere on the field in Fortaleza to be reflected in everyone in the airport. Everyone except ther Auburn Univresity football fan standing behind me who seemed a little lost (and out of place).

If this experience foreshadows anything, the rest of my six-week trip to Brazil this summer should be exciting and include plenty of fruit, new friends, and somewhat-talented piano players. I look forward to keeping the blog going to share my adventures with friends back home (and around the world).