Originally published on 8/19/2004 by O Estado de Sao Paulo
EDUARDO NUNOMURA
Special report from Port-au-Prince
Soccer used to be known as the sport with one ball and 22 men running after it. The Brazilian national team yesterday added a new meaning. It proved that events as simple as a game can do what almost no ruler has done for Haiti so far: it restored happiness to the Haitian people.
And it did so even before the game against the local team started. The friendly match was requested of the Brazilian team by President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva as part of the administration’s efforts to maintain peace in the region.
It was 12:00 hours when the plane carrying the Brazilians approached the runway at Toussaint Louverture Airport. From its windows, the players saw a big pocket of poverty and the soldiers on the runway. From the moment the Brazilians stepped off the airplane, excited chaos took hold of Port-au-Prince.
The country’s authorities, always formal, could not resist taking photographs of themselves with the players. Airport officials tried to touch forward Ronaldo’s bald spot. The Brazilian soldiers participating in the UN Stabilization Mission in Haiti (Minustah) did their best not to be overcome by the general excitement among the fans. After all, their job was to protect the guests. They succeeded.
From the arrival at the airport to the stadium – a trip taking an hour and 15 minutes – during which they passed through a crowd estimated at 150,000 delirious Haitians – there was not a single incident. Riding in seven Urutus – the armored vehicles that have been patrolling Port-au-Prince since June – the players waved, smiled, and were touched by the affection shown by their fans. They had not been expecting all that. An euphoric crowd followed the procession, and a long line of cars came behind that. The crowd, mad with excitement, was shouting all kinds of things: “Ronaldo,” “Roberto Carlos,” “Brazil,” “I want to eat,” and “jobs.” There were Haitians everywhere: balancing themselves on posts, electric poles, tractors, trees, roofs, and even billboards.
Impartial cheering – Port-au-Prince was prepared for the visit. When Brazil took military command of Minustah in June, the city was dirtier, with trash scattered along most of the streets. Brazilian flags were flown only when the Brazilian team was playing. But they were everywhere yesterday. The stadium had undergone an overhaul putting it in playing condition and including even synthetic turf, an unusual feature. About 11,000 Haitians paid 250 gourdes (a little over 20 reais or almost US$ 8) – the equivalent of seven days’ pay for the average worker – for tickets to the game. Another 2,000 tickets were distributed to guests, public school students, and associations.
Many people in Haiti live on less than $1 a day. Because of that, the majority, unable to get into the stadium, invaded the streets to watch the game on one of the 50 29-inch television sets set up in schools, day nurseries, and orphanages or the hundreds of other sets in bars and restaurants. In the stadium, the Haitians cheered for both sides. But they did not fail to shout “Haiti, Haiti” whenever their own team took the ball from the Brazilians. They complained about the official when a Haitian player fell in Brazilian territory, they were thrilled when Roger made his first goal and even more thrilled when Ronaldinho made his.
“Brazil is my life. You can’t imagine what it is like to see those men playing,” said Leslie Brezault, 62. There was no turning in of weapons in exchange for tickets, as the Brazilian military had recommended. If there had been, it might have been one of the quickest disarmament campaigns in the world.
