Bend it Like Beckham

¡¡¡Gol!!!


Last night the Motagua Eagles took on the L.A. Galaxy in Tegucigalpa and I was sitting about four rows back. Now, Hondurans love their soccer (or football as it is called here) and most of the world loves David Beckham so the ambiance was pretty crazy.


However, traveling to the heart of Tegucigalpa, one of the world's most dangerous cities, with five gringas is no easy task. Luckily, us ladies had Manu to help us stay un-mugged. Here are some safety tips just in case you ever find yourself going to a football game in Tegus:


- Do not dress up. Wear a t-shirt and jeans.
- No sandals
- Bring nothing with you except your license (police randomly ask for these things) and just enough cash. No phone, no purse, no chapstick, no credit card, and no camera. We had a camera only because one of my roommates, Sarah, had a broken one that she was willing to part with. Before we left the game, she hid the memory card.
- Either bring a couple small bills to give out to football groupies who ask for money or play dumb American when someone talks to you.
- Park close to the arena and in a well-lit spot
- Watch yourself when you are just outside the arena. That's where it's most dangerous because people know you brought money to buy tickets.
- Buy tickets on the street if possible so that you don't have to wait outside.
- Wait to take pictures until there are more people present inside the arena because you and your flashy camera will not be as conspicuous.


Fortunately, once we entered the arena and sat down we were pretty safe to enjoy the game. As I said, we sat about four rows back and by an aisle. This means that every few seconds a walking vendor passed by in front of us with either frescos (refreshments), cerveza (beer), or Chiclets.  Most of these vendors were adults, some were kids, and some were adults with their kids. One situation was really distressing. A little boy came by leading his blind, eyeless father. He came uncomfortably close to us, reaching at our pockets with his hands and constantly mumbling. It was a bit before we gave him any lempiras (Honduran money). I said to his son, "No tenemos dinero" (we don't have any money) but the boy just pointed to his eyes.


Other than that sad fact, the game was fast-paced and exciting. During breaks we all danced to the Spanish version of "Mambo #5" and the Motagua fight song. We were interviewed for a television program that I hope no one watches. The reporter asked four of us the question, "If you could take David Beckham out, where would you go?" But when the reporter reached me he only asked, "Do you want to take David Beckham out?" I thought he meant in a negative way, like "Should Motagua beat the snot out of the LA Galaxy?" Of  course, I said yes but was surprised when the reporter asked me, "Where would you take him?" In the heat of the moment, I replied, "To the beach. For a long walk." This is how I represent the U.S. in Honduras. Not only that, throughout the game I kept yelling ¡Quizás! (Perhaps!) instead of ¡Casi! (Almost!) whenever a near miss happened. Oh no, guys! "Perhaps!" So "perhaps!" Manu finally corrected me.


The main event, of course, was Mr. David Beckham. Trailing him in popularity was Landon Donovan, the stud. Everyone was trying to get a first glimpse of Beckham before he came out onto the field for the first time. Once he did, there was great applause and girly screaming every time he took control of the ball, came close to controlling the ball, or simply faced in a certain direction. I heard a grown woman scream, "I love you, Dah-veed Beck-hahm!" I heard a teenage girl just scream. And scream. And scream again if at any point David Beckham crossed into our side of the field.


In general, he seemed cool enough. He played the entire game, which is surprising considering this game was obligatory and didn't count for anything. He acknowledged the crowd with a humble wave and always helped his players up from the ground. At one point, one of the Honduran players knocked David Beckham to the ground. He lay there even as the play continued, belly down and hands on his chin until the play was stopped and a foul called. Even after that he refused to get up but, in a display of sheer cheekiness, made strong motions with his hands, demanding that the Honduran offender help him up. The Hondurans did not appreciate this act of diplomacy.


After the game, we walked as fast as we could from the stadium to our car. Heads down, hands in pockets. A random dude directed us as we pulled out of our parking spot and then wanted cash from us. We refused, seeing as we already paid someone to help us park and to watch our car while we were in there. Unfortunately, I am told that around the time we reached our car David Beckham took off his jersey and threw it into the crowd right where we were sitting. Alas, I need a new soccer jersey.


Hopefully, Sarah's camera functioned and I will be able to post pictures later tonight. Take care!