Liverpool is and has always been a working class city, a port city. Liverpudlians are also known as ‘scousers’, and are said to have the strongest accents in all of England- which proved correct when I went to a hilarious comedy show on my second night and understood only about 50% of what was going on. The city’s legacy includes being the port registry for the Titanic as well as the second-most bombed city during World War II.
In recent years, a new light has begun shining on the city. After being dubbed a European Capital of Culture in 2008, investment has poured in. Many areas of the city have been revamped or restored while Liverpool One, the largest open-air shopping mall in the UK, has been built. That’s not even to mention how excellent its football clubs have been doing…
The first thing I did when I arrived to the city was sign up for the New Liverpool Free Walking Tours. These free-of-charge tours are done in exchange for tips, and are a great way to save money in many destinations around the world. As we traveled around the city by foot, I planned the rest of my three days which included many destinations I likely would not have known about on my own.
As mentioned above, Liverpool was the second-most bombed city in WWII with the second-most causalities, behind only London. Following is a statue commemorating the Liverpool Blitz.
Below is a Banksy work entitled Love Plane.Liverpool historically is the undisputed number one worldwide when it comes to the music scene. Artists from Liverpool have produced far more number one records than that of any other city, the most famous being The Beatles. It was a must to visit Matthew Street, the Cavern Club, and touch the Eleanor Rigby statue (supposedly good luck). Next time I definitely have to do the full Beatles experience.
I was fortunate enough to make it to Goodison Park in time for Everton’s last home match of the city, against Manchester City. It was fantastic to see so many blues in person after watching the matches on TV for so many years.
Tim Howard made some ridiculous saves despite the eventual loss; watching him play made me even more excited for this summer’s World Cup. The last place I went in Liverpool was their Chinatown, in honor of my upcoming summer in China. I’m not going to lie – it was rather disappointing. But really, who goes to England to visit Chinatown?! Despite having the oldest Chinese population in Europe, the street itself was only about a block long. I walked for about five minutes before abruptly realizing it was finished.
Nonetheless, I have to say that the gate itself was pretty amazing. The gate is the second largest in the world, behind only Washington D.C., and features over 200 hand carved dragons – 12 of which, for good luck, are pregnant.
Hearts of Oak and Asante Kotoko are two top-seeded soccer teams and bitter rivals in the Ghana Premiere League. Last Saturday, we decided to go to Accra Sports Stadium to watch them play.
Easier said than done. Since our group was composed of five AFS students and two Ghanaians, we had to take two taxis to the stadium. We thought we'd be able to easily spot each other once we arrived, but Accra Sports Stadium was a madhouse. As Seth (a Ghanaian) looked for the others, Drew (an American) and I started waiting on the very long ticket line.
By the time Seth returned, the line had moved up about 50 feet. The other Americans tried to join the line, only to be yelled at and ultimately not allowed in the line. They decided to each give their 5 cedis ($3) for tickets, and sat down elsewhere to relax.
At this point, I feel it important to mention that this was no ordinary line. We were constantly being pushed and nudged forwards, and became lodged into the people in front of us. There was absolutely no room to move, and if you stepped out of the line for a second to catch your breath, you would have to fight your way back in.
It was uncomfortable from the get-go, but things quickly went from bad to worse. As we neared the front of the line, it turned into an almost standstill as we approached metal barricades put in-place to prevent the box office from being stampeded. Pressure from hundreds of people leaning forwards, forced us to stand at a 60 degree angle with our feet under the barricade to stay upright. Drew and I planted our feet, braced ourselves, and prepared for war.
Luckily an army officer noticed the barricade tipping before disaster ensued. He remedied the situation by hitting people behind us with a leather belt to make them stop leaning on me. Several times the belt cracked less than 6 inches from my head. People nearby responded by trying to scurry backwards, but because those behind wouldn't move, they ended up in a strange, backbend position.
People attempted sneaking through the barricades left and right, but the army men caught most of them. Each person cutting the line or sneaking through the barricade was beaten repeatedly until they exited the line. One guy was even clipped by the belt buckle in his left eye, which he clutched as he ran away in agony.
When the officer eventually let us through the barricades, I breathed a massive sigh of relief. We were part of the select few, and the army was nearby to protect us.
My view of the officers as 'saviors' quickly changed, as people started flooding the barricades. The officers took their guns, held them sideways like battering rams, and charged at the lines of cutters. Not only did they kick them at full-force in the knees, but they also pistol-whipped them and even pointed their guns to make people back away.
At this point, the match began. For an unknown reason (probably so they could watch the game), the army officers left their posts, and all the box offices except for one closed . With nobody to guard them, the fiery gates of Hell burst open as the 'moderately organized' line quickly dissolved into a mob of hundreds of impatient soccer fans wanting tickets immediately.
Seth quickly sprinted nearby to protect us. People mobbed us from every direction – yelling, screaming, and chanting "PUSH!" We were only 5 feet from the box office, but moving was not an option. Men yelled at me, saying I should lodge myself into a nearby corner to secure my position near the front of the line. I tried my hardest to follow this advice, but couldn't even move the 12 inches required to do so.
As everyone pushed towards the box office, I was being crushed. Oxygen was quickly escaping my lungs; I was gasping for survival. At one point my feet weren't even touching the ground. Despite Seth's arm wrapped around our shoulders to make sure we would be okay, I was petrified of being pushed to the ground and being trampled.
Drew spent 15 minutes in the lead without getting us any closer to the box office. In fact, one guy picked him up and placed him several feet further away. I pushed in front of Drew to try leading for myself. In a last-ditch effort, I metaphorically screamed, "THIS IS SPARTA"and pushed forwards with all my might. This was to no avail – somehow I ended up even further away from the box office. Emotionally let-down , I tiredly said to Drew, "I miss Ticketmaster!"
After 40 minutes of being inside the mob, I realized there was no chance of us ever getting tickets. Drew and I gradually pushed our way out of line – exhausted and smelling like someone else's body odor. We were drenched with sweat, and barely had enough energy to walk.
After we made it back to the AFS office, we turned on the television to watch the game. We could clearly see hundreds of empty, unsold seats in the background – despite the fact that there was an angry mob just outside the stadium waiting to buy tickets.
All in all… my day was perfect. Call me crazy, but it was a true Ghanaian learning experience – something that couldn't be learned at school or bought from a market. I've read about similar events every so oftenin the news, but actually being inside of a soccer-crazed mob is a whole different story.
Note: As I reread this post, I can't help but feel that this type of experience is impossible to accurately communicate. It's the kind of thing where you have to 'be there for yourself' in order to understand fully. I did my best, but nothing can compare to being there in person.
Despite this being a valuable life experience, being inside of a mob is something I feel should be done only 'once in a lifetime.'