Global Cuisines: A Brief Examination of the Globalization of Gastronomy

             Why are Americans so quick to proclaim their country the best? It is all too frequent to hear Americans refer to their country as the “greatest in the world.” Xenophobic and racist connotations aside, that phrase, along with a whole host of others (“land of the free,” “the American dream,” “the land of opportunity”), are gross misstatements, whose utterance continues despite mass dissatisfaction with the status quo. The recent Occupy Movement has exposed the exclusivity of the American dream and the disheartening remoteness of sustainable economic opportunity for the majority of young Americans. Yet in one sense, America may still reign supreme.

              Homemade pizza-an ode to Naples

             America may no longer produce as many goods, possess the same caliber of public education, or command the same diplomatic respect as other superpowers, but the “great melting pot” (one hackneyed description whose accuracy is indisputable), does contain the greatest offering of ethnic cuisines in the world.  Chinatown, Little Tokyo, Little Armenia, Little Haiti, Koreatown, Little Italy, Filipinotown, Little Saigon, Mexican Town, Greektown, “Curry Hill,” Russian Hill, these are some of the neighborhoods that have historically provided the most piquant and exotic culinary delights in cities across the United States.  The dishes of once distant cultures, along with their diverse ingredients and tastes, now form a cornucopia of affordable and high-end offerings, given further visibility by the Internet and television. One need only consider the ubiquity of pizza (in all of its variations), lo mein, or tacos to demonstrate the globalization of cuisine. Moreover some of the most profitable fast-food chains (Taco Bell, Yoshinori, Panda Express) and pre-made food producers are based on American interpretations of “ethnic foods.”

           

             An oft-used proverb states that in order to tell where one is going, they must know where they came from. The globalization of cuisine over the past 150 years has undoubtedly expanded our taste buds and taught us much about disparate cultures, yet at what cost? The constant mixing, re-inventing, and mass reproducing of what were once local delicacies has no doubt produced fantastic results, but it has also obscured the specific history of certain cuisines. There is no denying the influence of haute cuisine and Italian cooking on Western Culture, but while most Americans could probably tell you that pizza came from Italy, could they also recognize its Neopolitan origins or appreciate its traditional ingredients?

            

            Culinary globalization has also had profoundly negative environmental consequences. Delicious curry, tantalizing mole sauce, and authentic gazpacho all require ingredients from different climates, whose plastic packaging and global transport pollute our ecosystems. Furthermore, demand for exotic foods has changed the complexion of countless ecosystems. In order to maximize profits, food growers are often forced to depend on monocultures, or else clear large parcels of land to rear livestock, both of which compromise local biodiversity and ultimately, the health of global ecosystems. Twentieth century capitalism’s never-ending addiction to the “logic” of supply and demand contains little space for environmental or cultural considerations, yet for all of its destructiveness, it is impossible to unilaterally condemn globalization. Instead, it exerts both positive and negative influences with varying consequences (creating and destroying jobs, damaging the environment, giving rise to new dishes and preparations, culinarily educating, refocusing on local provisions etc.). 

            

            The local food movement of the past decade, although not universally accessible, or even viable in colder, harsher climates is an important alternative to a dependence on unsustainable food production.  Local foods not only offer not a more healthful and environmentally sound alternative, but can also retain financial benefits within a smaller community, and thereby decrease dependence on imported, mass-produced foods. Yet local food production, like most cutting-edge trends, remains socially exclusive, and often more expensive than non-local food. Writing this from Los Angeles, California, a veritable Mecca of inexpensive ethnic food, I am truly grateful for the diversity that has resulted from large-scale immigration, itself a consequence of globalization. Having also worked at an organic permaculture-style farm in Kona, Hawaii for the past three months, I understand the importance of growing one’s own food and remain committed to supporting local agriculture. 

 Mason and I building a garden bed

             Something as simple as eating, then, is made infinitely more complex by the variety of options and consequences that arise from making gustatory decisions.  Unlike Michael Pollan, however, I will not advise you what to eat.  I can only relate my own experiences while working on a farm – growing and consuming food 200 feet from my bed, without pesticides, fungicides, or insecticides, was the best that I’ve physically felt and among the simplest, yet most delicious food that I’ve tasted. I also realize that growing one’s own food is not always possible, yet considering the myriad hazards posed by imported, unregulated, and genetically-modified foods it will become crucial that we at least understand how to do so while shifting our resources towards local food production.   

 Kale, lettuce, taro, and our nursery in the mandala garden of Ginger Hill Farm

The One-Club Man: An Endangered Species

 

The One Club Man: An Endangered Species

            Loyalty; succinctly defined it is a strong feeling of allegiance and support. Loyalty can take many forms and play multiple roles in our lives. Along with being an important component of any lasting relationship, loyalty was once an integral thread in the fibers of economic stability throughout much of the industrial and post-industrial western world. The stability of businesses, both large and small, was largely built on mutual loyalty, which, in its extreme manifestation came to be known as “cronyism” or “corruption. Yet in this previous era those who demonstrated their commitment to a business could expect more job security, social mobility, and a brighter future for their children. In recent times, however, loyalty has given way to a global obsession with efficiency, cost effectiveness, and profits at the expense of employee welfare and for lack of a better term “the common good.”

           

            In sport loyalty also manifests itself in a variety of ways: fan loyalty to a team, player loyalty to their coaches, teams, supporters, contracts, agents, and/or commercial sponsors, etc. Apropos of those seemingly ubiquitous commercial sponsors, it is likely that the boundless amount of capital and moneymaking potential in professional sport has rendered loyalty completely obsolete. But does athlete “loyalty” to a club or to its fans mean anything anymore? Is it natural that athletes and clubs simply need to look out for their own interests? In an age when the bottom line for teams is staying competitive (and profitable), in which professional football clubs sign children as young as five to outrageous professional-tract contracts, and millions of dollars are just as often thrown at budding, unproven teenagers, where exactly does a player’s loyalty to his club fit in? 

           

            Such are the questions facing new generations of professional footballers, many of whose role models lived in eras when players considered factors other than just money when deciding their futures. These very role models, some of whom dedicated their entire careers to a single club, and are now occasionally often referred to as “club legends” or “old school players,” have become an endangered species and perhaps even find themselves out of place in today’s neo liberal market economy. It is likely that we so fondly remember these “legends” because of their willingness to dedicate their careers to a cause larger than themselves-a team legacy, its identity, or out of respect for the club that showed faith in their talents. This then, is a salute to the one-club men of yesteryear.

           

            Many of the greatest footballers of the past two decades have pied their trades for several teams.  Maradona, Pele, Romario, Ronaldo, Zidane, Baggio, Schmeichel, Cruyff, and Platini all played for at least three professional clubs.  Even so, each of these legends will always carry a special place in their heart for one team. La Bombonera has long been Maradona’s second home, Pele made a name for himself, and even retired with Santos, Zidane’s greatest club achievements occurred with Real Madrid, where he now works and whose youth team his children play for. Cruyff settled in best with Barcelona where he excelled as both a player and coach. Whether pro footballers remain with one club their entire lives or play for several, most of them retain a fondness for one club over the others, a feeling that no amount of money can alter. This, ironically, is how many people feel about certain past romances.

           

            To stick with one club (and woman) through thick and thin, in spite of greener pastures, or larger pay package offerings is a sign of integrity and dedication.  One-club men are also rare in football due to the effects of promotion and relegation in most leagues, which causes the tendency for young players to be loaned out (for experience), for players to move clubs for financial reasons (if the club is relegated), and for older footballers to play at lower levels in order to elongate their careers. It is with this in mind that we should salute the handful of contemporary 30+ one-club men: Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes, Xavi Hernandez, Victor Valdes, Carles Puyol, Iker Casillas, Francesco Totti, Alessandro Del Piero, Jamie Carragher, Steven Gerrard, Ledley King, and John Terry, who remain amazingly vital to their respective teams.  Club supporters will forever remember these players as more than just world-class footballers, rather, they will look upon them as definers of their team’s identity and regard them as fellow fans.

 

The Dirtiest of Wars

I would love to believe in the stirring verse originally sung by Chilean group Quilapayun-"¡El pueblo unido, jamás será vencido!" (The people united, will never be defeated!).  This aphorism may eventually ring true because a united group of people are louder, more visible, and therefore powerful than a divided one, but it is the complicity of the general public during a struggle for power, rights, or equality that makes Quilapayun's phrase difficult for me to truly believe.

Recent history has demonstrated that it is during times of economic crisis that we must remain especially protective over our human rights and personal safety.  Keeping that in mind, it is now, more than ever, that we must remain vigilant, as the global recession gives cause to austerity measures, unemployment, inflation, mistrust, demagoguery, and fear.  Such "austerity" has been used as an excuse for recent funding cuts to health care, public education, infrastructure, and environmental protection, which not only serves to further the gap between the wealthiest and the rest, but will erode some of the very foundations of our societies.

Similarly, much of the rhetoric behind such atrocities as the Pinochet coup/ military government in Chile, and Argentina's "Dirty War" has been based on specious "economic" claims-i.e. socialist economic policies and social programs are ineffective, cause inflation, are not conducive to national industrial development or foreign trade, and/or are generally deleterious.  The people, as such military juntas of Chile and Argentina seemed to believe, would be better off under rigid discipline, privatized industry, and a "strong" (tyrannical) central leader (who were both covertly supported by the "democratic" United States government).

In the face of such claims, one must remember that global trade and the free market economy are inherently subject to fluctuations that can disproportionately affect certain regions of the world more than others based not only on domestic economic policies, but geography, national and international laws (like constitutions and international trade policies), diplomatic relations, amongst other factors.  The global economic downturn of the 1970's, coupled with the (sham of an) oil crisis compounded the ongoing governmental instabilities, massive inflation, financial uncertainty, and political fragmentation in Argentina and Chile.

Those of you uninterested in Latin American history must be wondering...'where is he going with this and why should I keep on reading?'  Besides attempting to draw certain comparisons between disparate historical epochs (South America in the 1970's and The US/Europe of the second decade of the 2000's), I want to discuss, in brief, an atrocity that very few of my friends know about-"La Guerra Sucia," or, "The Dirty War,"-its causes, its vestiges, and its involvement with "futbol."

Argentina has long been a place of political instability and social upheaval.  Beginning in the late nineteenth century waves of European and western Asian immigration brought a mixture of cultures and creeds to this new country south of the equator.   Migration and immigration from other South American countries and from Argentina's rural areas in the early twentieth century made the country's industrial urban centers like Buenos Aires, Rosario, Cordoba, Bahia Blanca, and La Plata swell.  By the early twentieth century Argentina was one of the world's foremost economic powers with the ninth largest economy by 1920.  However, the Depression of the 1930's brought an end to that and badly crippled an economy in advanced stages of industrial development.  With unemployment and inflation soaring, Argentina's government crumbled.  This period did witness the establishment of universal (male suffrage), but during the 16 years from 1930-1946 the country saw 8 different heads of state, including several military dictatorships. 

The Juan Peron governments of the late 1940s through mid 1950s, and then later in the early 1970s temporarily stabilized Argentina's volatile economy, while enacting numerous infrastructural improvements/modernizations (including railroad extensions, bridge and hospital constructions, the enlargement of the country's ports amongst others), pro-union labor reform, and the construction and updating of dozens of professional soccer stadiums.  The famous "Bombonera" stadium-home to the famed Boca Juniors Football Club, was funded by money from the Peron government.  The stadium improvement program was as much an infrastructural improvement campaign as it was apolitical move.  Always with an ear to the streets, Peron shrewdly recognized the power that soccer held over the masses and channeled much of his support from terraces and stands of the "estadios" around the country. 

Figurines of Juan Peron, "Evita," and Diego Maradona in La Boca neighborhood of Buenos Aires

Peron's government, however, a curious "third way," which existed somewhere in between capitalism and socialism, did not last.  The nationalizations and protectionist economic policies that defined much of his presidency isolated private investment and led to substantial debt.  Exports fell, and unemployment rose sharply from the mid 1950's onward.  Peron was also quite guilty of having illegally disposed of certain opposing forces.  During his first reign in power, he fired more than 1500 university professors who opposed him, including the famed writer Jorge Luis Borges.  Peron was deeply suspicious of both staunch conservatives and radical left wing factions.  Certain policies, such as his proposed legalization of abortion and prostitution, were too controversial for a mostly catholic country, while frequent clashes between the Socialist Party and Peronists became violent.  Peron was even excommunicated by Pope Pius XII in 1955. A Nationalist-Catholic coup deposed him that same year and he was exiled from the country for 18 years, during which the size of the economy doubled while inflation became a daily expectation for Argentinians.

By the time he returned from exile, Peron was in poor health, and by some accounts, even senile.  A series of debilitating heart attacks effectively ended his third term in 1974, the same year of his death, after which his third wife Isabel was put in charge of the republic until the dreaded military coup of 1976.

The events of 1976-1983 are probably the darkest in Argentine history.  General Jorge Videla head of the Argentine Armed Forces, and leader of a new military junta, easily deposed of the ineffectual Peron regime in a coup d'etat, privatized several state-owned companies, shut down the legislative branch while restricting freedom of the press, and initiated a campaign of state-sponsored terror via the euphemistically-coined "National Reorganization Process." 

Videla (on the left)

From 76' onward the government initiated the "Dirty War" against its own citizens whereby marxists, trade unionists, students, and any citizens with suspected left-leaning sentiments were kidnapped, sent to detention camps, tortured, murdered, or raped.  At any given moment people could be pulled over by the police and beaten senseless without explanation, have their homes looted by soldiers, be drugged and forced to undergo the "vuelos de la muerte" (death flights) where they were drugged, forced into helicopters or fixed-wing aircrafts, stripped naked, and pushed into the Rio de la Plata or Atlantic Ocean to drown.  Among the most heinous human rights violation carried out by the junta was the stealing and redistribution of "children of the disappeared," whereby infants or very young children of apprehended individuals were given to families who supported, or at least complied with the regime.  (For a masterpiece narration of this subject see the heart-wrenching film "La Historia Oficial"-The Official Story.)

Above: Propaganda from the Videla Government that reads "Argentinians: We are human rights"

Below: An Abduction in Buenos Aires

It is estimated that between 9,000-30,000 Argentinians were forcibly disappeared between 1976 and 1983 and that up to 500 children were stolen from their parents.  Though some Argentinians resisted, such as the "Madres de la Plaza de Mayo," who continue to gather in the Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires to demand knowledge of the whereabouts of their disappeared children,  (preceding this article is an iconic symbol of their organization-the white hood), the majority went about their daily lives.  How, one might ask, could the world stand by and allow this to happen after the atrocities of the Holocaust?  The answer, sadly, is a mixture of successful cover-ups, US-support for the anti-communist military junta (via Operation Condor), successful propaganda campaigns, and general international complicity or even coordination (in the case of Chile, Uruguay, and Bolivia).  

The "Gauchito"- official mascot of the 1978 World Cup

In the midst of the Dirty War Argentina hosted the 1978 FIFA World Cup under the watchful eyes of Videla and co..  The Montoneros, a Peronist and marxist guerilla group tried to disrupt the tournament by coordinating several bomb attacks, but were unsuccessful and swiftly crushed by the Junta.  Some of the teams that qualified, such as the Netherlands, initially considered not participating due to the Junta's rumored persecution of the people, but eventually relented.  In another controversy, FIFA allowed the Argentine National Team to play all of their matches at night, thereby giving them the advantage of knowing all previous match results.  

The Naval Academy Building in Buenos Aires

The Estadio Monumental, used for the World Cup, is located less than a mile from the infamous Naval Mechanics School in Nuñez, which was used as a concentration camp at the time, and has since been designated as a space for the "memory and promotion of the defense of human rights."  It is said that prisoners there could hear the roar of the crowd during matches.  An LA Times article discusses several disturbing details of the tournament...

"Surviving detainees have recalled Kafkaesque scenes of interrogators taking time out to root for the home team. Guards even encouraged shackled, hooded and half-conscious prisoners to join in the merry-making.  "We won! We won!" the lockup's notorious chief of intelligence, Jorge "El Tigre" (The Tiger) Acosta, shouted over and over, recalled Graciela Daleo, a survivor. "When he said, 'We won,' I was certain that we had lost," Daleo said in a seminal documentary film made here examining the "parallel history" of the 1978 championship. "And we did lose." (http://articles.latimes.com/2008/jun/28/world/fg-mundial28)

 

Star forward Mario Kempes and the "Albicelestes" might have won Argentina's first World Cup, but the real beneficiary was the Videla regime who were able to maintain power for another five years while deflecting growing international attention to their bloody methods.  In this way, some have compared the 1978 World Cup to Hitler's manipulation of the 1936 Berlin Olympics that covered up his persecution of the Jews, Communists, and Gypsies.   After the ill-fated Falkland' War and growing international concern with the Junta, democracy was restored in 1983, but the vestiges of the Dirty War persist to this day-with the occasional news coverage of genetic testing of a child of a disappeared, the sporadic trials and convictions of former military leaders, and the frequent gathering of the Madres de la Plaza.

In the end "el pueblo unido" were not necessarily defeated, but they were unable to effectively mobilize and topple the regime, which fell for other reasons- mounting debt, high inflation, and the diplomatic catastrophe caused by the Falklands War.  During the Junta, isolated and small-scale anti-government violence was carried out mostly by divided guerilla groups.  The brutal repression and state terror inspired such fear in the populace that the impetus and unity required for an effective resistance, whether violent or non-violent, was never fully present.  Further dividing the people was the fact that the government mostly targeted leftists who they considered to be an ideological "threat" to their stability.  The Videla government is often referred to as "la ultima dictadura"-the last dictatorship; let us hope that it remains thus. 

You might wonder why I care so much about this topic, or why I am so concerned with what happens in Argentina.  Though I am not Argentinian, I did live there, and will always feel connected to that country.  The experiences of the "ultima dictadura" and the Pinochet regime in Chile should serve as eternal reminders of the dangers posed by volatile economic conditions and the opportunistic ultra-right wing politics that emerge during such times of crisis and who purport to treat such maladies.  While I do not believe that Argentina, the US, or any European entity are in danger of being toppled by new repressive autocracies, I do feel that the all-too-popular austerity measures and tax-cuts that are causing the slow erosion of the foundations of such western democracies could potentially give way to new tyranny, especially in light of the ultra-nationalist/religious and reactionary factions waiting in the wings to manipulate discontent with current governments.

Mark Bittman: A King Among Men

Some of you may have noticed (or failed to notice) that this is my first entry in over a month.  I should inform you readers that this hiatus has been due largely to studying for a second attempt at the GRE (which I aced), graduate school planning, the emergence of a new collaborative writing project with my dad, and lastly, a general hesitance to continue this online journal in reaction to its low readership.  At times I feel reluctant to continue this blog because of its lack of ability to generate comments or any meaningful discussions.  I've resolved, however, to continue on, despite who reads my content, because in a way, my future depends on it.

This summer has truly flown by.  It is difficult to believe that August is almost upon us.  After going on an almost four-day bender in late June/early July, I have taken a temporary recess from my Wino Wednesdays segment and from all alcohol consumption.  I must say that I feel fresh right now.  Not drinking for the past month has cleared my mind and allowed me to more actively concentrate on the tasks at hand.  While I may temporarily desist from drinking, I will never, even in the case of limb removal, give up cooking.

Cooking, as I explained in a previous entry, is my art form; my channel of creativity.  I am often asked by fellow food enthusiasts who inspires me, or who I look up to most in the world of gastronomy.  Truly, a plethora of virtuoso chefs exist in every corner of the globe.  Some have experimented with new food preparation techniques such as the famed Ferran Adria, whose molecular gastronomy is changing the way that many chefs approach food preparation.  Others have become television personalities known more now for theatrics (Emeril Lagasse, Anthony Bourdain, Jamie Oliver, Giada de Laurentis to name a few) than for their abilities.  A recent trend has seen many chefs commit to environmental sustainability by restricting their menus to local and seasonal products.

As you could surmise from this entry' title, one of my greatest food inspirations is the humble food writer Mark Bittman, aka The Minimalist.  He may not have trained at a fancy culinary school, he may have appeared on more than a few television programs, but Mr. Bittman epitomizes the direct, intuitive, and often quirky approach to cooking that I so admire.  It may be, in fact, that Mr. Bittman's lack of formal training (and corresponding lack of pretension) is what so endears him to a wide audience.  He is the every man's food enthusiast, capable of both the intricate and the simple.  His recipes however, are for the most part refreshingly simple and (at least when I prepare them) always delicious.  From his former New York Times food segment The Minimalist, to his interactive once-a-week simple dish preparations, to his championing of local food and a plant-based diet, I find myself utterly enthralled by and nearly always in agreement with Mr. Bittman.

Perhaps due to the unrelenting heat of these Dog Days, two of my favorite recent Bittman contributions are "Recipes for 101 Simple Salads for the Season," in which he lists vegan, vegetarian, and non-vegetarian recipes for an entire summer's worth of delicious inventiveness, and The Minimalist: Fast Blueberry Jam, in which he prepares an incredibly simple blueberry jam containing only: blueberries, sugar, and cinnamon.

The following is my version of Mr. Bittman's watermelon, tomato, and basil salad (from the 101 Simple Salads list), to which I added sliced Prosciutto di Parma and fresh oregano.

The blueberry jam that I made with local farmer's market blueberries, was ready in under 20 minutes and is utterly tangy, sweet, and satisfying.  For those of you who enjoy preparing food, I highly recommend looking at these two links, which I have provided below...Happy summer to you all!

Recipes for 101 Simple Salads
Fast Blueberry Jam

World Cups: Events that Define

World Cups: Events that Define Life Phases

 

           The 2010 FIFA World Cup was among the least spectacular international football tournaments in recent history.  The cautionary approaches and uber-defensive strategies utilized by the majority of national teams, and the lack of individual flair resulted in a business-like competition without any well-played, end-to-end two-sided affairs.  Players and coaches blamed the unpredictable Adidas “Jabulani” ball for the ugliness, and with the exception of the semi-final between the Netherlands and Uruguay and the third place game between Uruguay and Germany, fans were made to settle for low-scoring, underwhelming matches.  From a neutral’s standpoint, it was an aesthetically disappointing World Cup that failed to live up to the typical pre-tournament hype.  Yet reflecting on both its intrinsic meaning exactly one year from its inception, I have come to the conclusion that such non-annual sporting events frequently define periods in our lives.

             

             I had the unique, and perhaps once in a lifetime pleasure of experiencing a World Cup in the victorious country.  While I was not supporting “La Roja,” I was unavoidably captivated by the spirit and revelry of my Spanish friends and the witnessing crowds in the famed southern Andalucian city of Granada. 

            Despite their label as perennial World Cup “choke artists,” Spaniards were brimming with confidence following their national team’s glorious 2008 European Cup victory.  Long had Spain been blessed with the world’s best footballers, but for some reason, they had never managed to win a World Cup.  This time, however, the typical Spanish cynicism was replaced by a new optimism.  Spaniards throughout Andalucia, Extremadura, Castilla, Galicia, La Rioja, Cantabria, Asturias, Navarra, Murcia, Aragon, and even parts of Catalunya and the Basque country displayed an infectious enthusiasm and support of their National Football Team, one of the few unifying entities in an otherwise culturally divided country. 

            On match days all around the city of Granada one could see red jerseys and painted faces, hear songs of support, and witness loud, thorough celebrations after each victory.  Having committed to soaking up the true World Cup spirit, I watched each Spain match in the “zona roja de Cruzcampo,” an enormous air-conditioned tent sponsored by the Andalucian beer giants Cruzcampo, which included several giant screens and at least four full bars.  Each successive match saw the several thousand onlookers became rowdier and more vocal as they nervously consumed sunflower seeds and “tinto de verano” (cheap red wine mixed with Fanta Soda).  As “La Furia Roja” surpassed each hurdle-Portugal in the first knockout stage, Paraguay in the quarterfinals, and then Germany in the semifinals, the celebrations across the city intensified with bacchanalian activity reaching its zenith after the final.  As the final whistle blew in Johannesburg, South Africa it felt like a collective weight had been lifted from the backs of all Spaniards.  Years of disappointment and cynicism were extinguished in a matter of seconds. 

            In the minutes and hours following the victory, I witnessed events that I never thought possible.  Firecrackers exploded in ornate lit fountains. Spaniards, both young and old, danced on car hoods chanting “yo soy Español, Español, Español!” or else “Campeones, Campeones, O Ey, E Ey, O Ey!” Amusingly, the police also took part in the celebrations, intervening only to prevent violence or substantial property damage.  I stood by utterly captivated, as Spain, a veritably football mad country, thoroughly celebrated their glorious victory.

             Because they occur every four years, World Cups are bound to coincide with periods of our lives, at least, for those of us who are football fans.  They can also symbolize trends and common strategies in the game itself.  The 10’ version, for example, exemplified the current excessively cautious  tendencies of coaches and professional teams.  One a more profound level, World Cups, not unlike  the Olympics, have the capacity to act as personal points of reference or indicators of certain stages in our lives. 

             The World Cup always causes me to reflect on my own life and activities. Last summer’s competition marked a particular era in my life that included: an “early 20’s-I can do anything optimism”, pride in my linguistic abilities, loneliness at spending most of that hot summer without any friends in the city, and disappointment with my unsettled peripatetic existence.  The 2006 World Cup coincided with my summer stay in San Francisco, a magical period of discovery, professional development, and self-satisfaction.  I was a confused and identity-less sophomore in high school during the 2002 World Cup, which forced me to wake up during indecent hours to view matches.  As an energetic 12 year old, I felt secure, oblivious, and unafraid of the future during France’s 1998 conquering.  The 1994 World Cup was held in the United States and was my first exposure to world football.  Roberto Baggio’s missed penalty during the final is forever burned into my mind, as is Romario’s hoisting of the golden trophy. 

            Perhaps four-year increments are logical life stage reference points, but as a football fan, I attach even greater significance to World Cups, and use them as objective demarcations of my own self-development.  But what I am pondering then, is whether I do this because I love the “world’s game?”-Or rather that I have subconsciously attached critical significance to these global events that they become life-defining moments.  I clearly remember, for instance, meeting up for lunch with my father and now stepmother, Leslie, at a Brueger’s Bagel shop in East Lansing Michigan in 1998, shortly after France’s final victory over Brazil.  The lunch was significant because Leslie was in Paris during the competition and described in detail the celebrations and raucous activities of the French people.  It may not have been a defining moment for her, but it was for me.  Never could I have imagined the feeling of massive and unifying collective joy as the “Rainbow Nation” experience in 1998.  What struck me most in light of Leslie’s experience was that such joy moved beyond the secular, ethnic, and age divisions that continue to plague French society.   

            It cannot be that I am the only human alive who believes that World Cups are definitive moments of existence, or that a sporting event can hold such significance.  Discuss the World Cup final with any Spaniard, Frenchman, Italian, German, Argentine, or Brazilian with even a fleeting interest in the sport, and they will most likely be able to recall exactly where they were, and what they were doing at the time of their nation’s World Cup victories.  As a fan, I am not an outlier when it comes to attaching emotional significance to the World Cup, but as a Finnish-American I am.  With Finland never qualifying, and the US never having reached the quarterfinals, I am always left with a surrogate country to support.  It is probable then, that for those of us whose nations are not likely to win, World Cups hold additional [non-sporting] meaning.

           

            The pain of being a fan is two-fold-the feeling of despair, disappointment, or else sadness when one’s team loses, and the helplessness with which we watch, or what I would call the "third-party enigma."  Though we may cheer on our squads-the players, the captains, and their managers, it is impossible that any individual fan can remotely affect the outcome of a competition.  Yes being a fan means supporting one’s team, but it also means having the unreasonable belief that collective support can, in fact, will a team to victory.  Try convincing the thousands of Uruguayans in Montevideo’s Plaza Independencia cheering on their beloved Celestes against Ghana in last year’s quarterfinals, when a last minute penalty stacked all of the odds in Ghana’s favor, that their collective support and prayers had no effect in willing Uruguay to the semi-finals.  This belief in collective spiritual power borders on religiosity, but the very essence of being a fan is a belief that one’s team will be victorious.  If nothing else, being a supporter of a team is an identity, often as meaningful and fervent as a religion or nationality.  Indeed, international competitions frequently elicit fervent nationalist tendencies, almost to the point where rivalry matches become surrogate wars.  Football fandom and appreciation for the beauty of the game, however, can supersede nationality.  I may never be Cameroonian, but who is to say, for example, that I cannot support the Cameroonian National Football team? Or that my brother cannot support France?  Collective identity via fandom then, is a principal feature of the World Cup’s life-defining qualities.  

            The moments and external events that define our lives are incredibly diverse.  Weddings, deaths, births, graduations, job promotions, wars, financial collapses, etc can both be extremely personal and shared experiences.  It may be rare to share such moments with another person, but is even rarer to share them with three billion people.  Unfathomable though it may seem, more than three billion people watched last year’s tournament; on their home television sets, on pirated computer channels, in pubs, in town squares, or in royal palaces.  Despite where they watched matches, the fact that nearly half of our planet engaged in a collective simultaneous activity is astounding and completely unprecedented.  Maybe we should take solace from the fact that something as simple as a game involving 22 men chasing a ball on a pitch can distract us from the atrocities and struggles of daily life.  Football will not resolve wars, feed the starving masses, find cures for diseases, or else solve our problems.  World Cups, however, are unifying, epic events that contain rich collective memory and identity potential. 

I almost forgot...World Cup Official Anthems are always entertaining...Here's 2010's "Waka Waka" by Colombian singer Shakira.  Enjoy!