WORLD CUP GAME DAY

Finally getting around to writing about our unanimously agreed upon favorite event of the trip (which means a lot since we are currently nearing our final day in Ushuaia, Argentina, our last stop). Friday, June 13, 2014 was a day we knew would be special from the moment we randomly decided to enter the lottery for World Cup tickets back on August 15, 2013. We chose Salvador after a few of us heard that it was a beautiful city, doing no research and even later finding out that it is the supposed murder capital of Brazil. The city turned out to be 100 times more intriguing and beautiful (and safe, thankfully) than we were expecting, and Dona Sorte smiled down upon us when we drew the Spain/Netherlands game (the last Cup´s final, which Spain won) as our sole match of the trip.
We woke up and scattered a bit, grabbing potable water at the hipermercado across the street and also continental breakfast at our hotel with disgustingly hiked rates. We then headed over to the nearest mall at 10am where we were told that the free FIFA shuttle to the stadium started at noon. No biggie. Asked for directions and walked twenty minutes to a bus stop that took us back to the place where we asked for directions to the bus stop. But luckily, the bus then continued on to Pelourinho - Salvador´s colonial district with old painted buildings, incredible street food, street capoeira fighters (I got coerced into tambourining with the accompanists), and the impressive Elevator Lacerda with straight cliff views to the port.

The city was abuzz, and the Spain red and yellow was out in force. But the Spanish population paled in comparison to the Dutch contingent. Rounding the corner northeast out of the Old City (after turning right too early and stumbling into an unmarked police blockade that we were scolded for crossing), we realized we were walking with the flow of more and more orange-clad Dutchies (their unofficial color) until we suddenly emerged into a sea of orange in a plaza, live Dutch music blaring from a huge stage, orange Dumb and Dumber suits, orange mermaids, orange stilt-walkers, the orange buses that drove/ferried from the Netherlands, orange orange orange orange. From that moment on, we were in it to win it with the Dutch... even if it meant telling the Spaniards that we decided to ultimately root against them. In Spanish.

Faces painted orange, orange jerseys purchased, orange beers in hand, we wandered to Fonte Nova Arena, Salvador´s new stadium completed last year for their two national teams. The scene was truly incredible. The Dutchies dominated the crowd but the Spaniards still pulled their weight, wearing horse suits, holding gigantic World Cup trophy replicas, matadoring, ole-ing, etc. Entering the stadium from the south goal side, our first vista of the field was breath-taking. It was real that we were finally THERE.

There were ten of us, and due to the lottery system the biggest group of us could only be four sitting together. The tickets of myself, James, Anna, and Austin were for the fifth row, the section just right of center (truly, truly real at this point getting to our seats) and those of Lauren, Jeff, Casey, and Evan were in row R two over from center on the other side, so sadly we had to split up. Chris and Mary, Austin´s coworker and friend, had upper deck seats but came with us to our seats before the game started and ended up sitting together in a miraculously empty front row seat. Truly, all views were great and our blood was rushing with the excitement of the spectacle and the buzz of the scenario, possible revenge for the Netherlands after their loss to Spain in 2010.
The first half was a nail-biter, with Spain getting an easy goal on an early free kick. Shortly before the end of the first half, though, Robin van Persie had the most amazing header I have ever seen, and one that he later claimed was his best goal ever. Electrifying. It made me want to truly follow soccer from this moment on. A later search on Google turned up the ESPN photo below, which we made it into! Also a picture from Anna´s disgustingly high-megapixel camera of the four on the other side dancing.

An onslaught of dexterous Netherlands goals followed in the second half, and the Dutchies ultimately left the game in a delirium, as did we. The woman in front of me texted her friends that she was partying with the Dutchies behind her and didn´t understand a word of what we were saying (clearly). Many of the Brazilians who attended the game asked to take photos with us too, thinking we were Dutch, which is how we got the picture below.

We then made our way back to Dutch Village West, where we got Salvador street food - acarajé, chicken skewers, these weird pillowy empanada things, and cheese fried in person over a little urn of embers - just as the heavens opened up and a tropical rain poured down upon the city. Wet but happy, we eventually made our way back to our hotel via van taxi, but not before witnessing a street mugging in person. This little kid ran down the street with an older Spanish man´s wallet or camera, the man screaming like all hell behind him. The kid was apprehended, surprisingly, and another item on our bucket list was checked off.
If you know the Fort Collins contingent of this group well enough, you will know that it´s not out of the question that even the best day of our lives could end with a lively round of the card game Mafia, which is exactly what we did until we were too tired to deny the accusations, faces painted, teeth red with wine (Evan), still slightly damp, and truly feeling on top of the world, to be with the world in this corner of the world at this specific time.
WORLD CUP BABY!!!