A month before the World Cup, Africa and African footballing culture—at least, as dictated by FIFA—has taken over a little area of Southeast Asia in the FIFA Official Store. Not in Geneva, not in Johannesburg, but in Singapore.
To remind us that the World Cup is A Big Deal, in January of 2008 FIFA opened its first Official Store in the new terminal of Singapore international airport, where in 2009, there were 27 million passengers that came and went. That’s means foot traffic from anywhere of 200 cities in 60 countries. That’s a lot of mobile football fans.
As an indonesian and a student who has spent most of her life doing development work with urban and rural underprivileged and in emergency relief in several countries, it is disgusting to see the Slumdog Millionare Hollywood trend being manifested into an appalling, undignified, profit-making experience by your company by your marketing of tours in the slum areas of Jakarta.
If what you intend to do is show rich and poor Jakartans as the same as rich and poor of other cities, there are better ways to do this.
I walked home after midnight from all the way down town and it took me about 45 minutes but it was a beautiful night and a much needed walk. But I realised something. I can never call it home. I’m constantly saying goodbye to the city. Every walk I take, every time I wait for 20 minutes for the TTC, every dinner on the patio of my oldest, first restaurant here, with a glass of wine, every trip to the BMO down the waterfront, I’m always saying goodbye.
There is an avenue on which the flat in Cascais is where I invited myself to stay, one sunny but still chilly June a few years ago, is. Straight ahead, the Praia dos Pescadores, the fishermen’s beach and then the crystal blue of the Oceano Atlântico, but don’t forget a stop by the fish market a few metres closer to us, and wonderful views throughout and many places to satisfy the appetite.