Football Time

This week, I started training with the Christ School football (soccer) team. Working with the team had long been one of my plans, both because it will allow me to work with youth and to stay involved with the game, and now that school is back in session I’ll be down there 4 afternoons a week. While I don’t have an official title yet, it will be something like assistant coach or trainer, and I’ll be working with the head coach, a young Ugandan man named Alex, who is a lot of fun and is a wonderful player.

The guys on the team are mostly in their 3rd-6th year of secondary school, but some of them are about as old as me, since here in Bundibugyo people often don’t finish high school until 20 or 22. There’s a lot of football talent here, as guys grow up kicking a ball around from the time they’re very young (or a bundle of plastic bags bags, banana fibres, etc). And the level of toughness is incredible – a hard life makes for tough kids. However, I realize that a lot of the guys have never played a formal, 11 vs. 11 game of football, and I’m guessing that maybe that’s part of where I fit in, in helping them tactically as well as technically. Anyway, I’ve had a great time kicking a ball around with these guys this week, and I think it will be a really good way to get to know some of the students and interact with them in a more personal, meaningful way. Football is often called “the universal language,” since it is played all over the world and can be shared by people who share no language at all, and, as hokey as that sounds, I’m finding that there’s truth in it. When I’m playing football with someone, our shared ability and goal gives us an instant connection and understanding that can be hard to cultivate outside of the game. It's a way to interact that crosses cultures and language barriers remarkably well. This is not to say that it’s a sure-fire way to establish a good relationship, but it provides an instant connection that is quite significant, especially in a place like this, where I am so clearly “different” and so obviously an outsider, and where being those things is clearly considered a bad thing. I’ve also learned that I’m in absolutely miserable shape – Coach Russo would be terribly disappointed. I’ve been sucking wind out there, with the weakness of my lungs overcome only by my pride and my desire to play well. At least I know that my fitness will only get better as the season goes on.

So, now my afternoons are filled with two hours of football in the blazing sun and high humidity, with grass that is far too long, and with people whom I struggle to understand; but also with the game I love, a stunning view from the pitch of the snow-capped peaks of Mts. Emin and Gessi, camaraderie, crossing cultures, hard work, and a chance to share common ground with people with whom it might otherwise be hard to find.