Posterous theme by Cory Watilo
Matthew Creber

Portraits of a City #2: Football 'n that

On arrival in Nablus, one of the first things you notice is the proliferation of Palestinian Flags. Since this flag, and even using even this combination of colours was outlawed until 1994, it's not surprising that the Palestinians use it to assert their national identity at every opportunity.

What is more surprising, however, is the frequency with which you encounter the colours of Barcelona, or Real Madrid. Usually being worn proudly by group of young boys, I am curious to know what came first, the shirts or the fandom; call me a cynic, but I suspect some savvy spanish marketers may have been promoting their clubs abroad through philanthropic gestures (ie. giving away shirts... this could well be something to do with Bacelona's agreement with UNICEF). Or perhaps this is simply a product of the fact that only the finest of European football is screened on Arabic TV.

 

Either way, football is a big deal here, as it is around the world, with one major exception (nb. for any Americans reading, "football" is a game where we kick the ball with our foot). I frequenly do battle with it, as it diverts the attention the boys I am attempting to teach at 7am on a Sunday morning. Strangely enough, they'd all rather be in the playground. 

People with even the most cursory knowledge of my interests will know that I am not an avid follower of the beautiful game. I regard it more as mildly attractive game - a game that might catch your eye in the street, but which I couldn't bear to look at for too long. So my interest extends more or less to watching England games during the world cup; holding a sort of totemistic love for Norwich (when they are doing well, which I gather they sort of are at the moment); and making clumsy attempts to sound like I know what I'm talking about in the pub on a Sunday afternoon.

So you may be susprised that I have attended not one but two international games since I have been in Nablus! Granted, one featured South Africa fielding their "developmental" team (1-1), and one featured the Palestinian Women's team facing their Japanese Counterparts - which many readers may not consider true "international" football (0-4)... but nevertheless, it gratifying to see Palestine in a (literal) arena where they are free to Participate at an international level.

In fact, my willingness to attend was perhaps assisted by the fact that the stadium is a mere 10 minute walk from my house - down the "stairs of death" as we affectionately know the steep route down the hill; and also by the fact that entry is free. Inside the stadium, the crowd are segrated into men and women (one member of the women's team was playing in a hijab) - a social rule that the Palestinians seemed happy for us to flout. Around us circulated children selling sunflower seeds, men with giant pots of tea and coffee, and a hundred swirling flags.

Even to my untrained eyes, the football was far from spectacular. But it was determined, and the spirit of the crowd was admirable, as they shouted and encouraged their teams. For the South Africa game, there were next to no women in the crowd, but for the women's teams, there was a huge turnout of both sexes. 

It is clear, from even the briefest of conversations, that the loyalty of most football-loving Palestinians lies with the mighty Spanish teams whose shirts they proudly wear. One man I spoke to questioned the wisdom of supporting a team from Catalonia, which has been historically non-muslim - but he admitted he was not much of a football fan. But there is something about the democracy of football, the freedom and universality of it, that makes it an incredible force for optimism within the occupied West Bank. And maybe, if countries around the world can accept Palestine on the pitch, perhaps they can also accept them at the beaurocratic tables of statehood.