A review by cfc
The Soccer War by Ryszard Kapuściński
4.0
Kapuscinski went to war zones and countries consumed by coups and plots. This volume is a collection of his recollections of what it was like to be there. The brushes with death while traveling through check-points in Nigeria, Congo, and near the border between Honduras and El Salvador (the Soccer War) describe the ridiculous risks that war zone reporters often take, in countrysides where young soldiers either don't give a shit if you have papers, suspect you as colonialists just because you're white, or simply need to be bribed.
Kapuscinski was a great storyteller. He even made the suffocating boredom of waiting in moldy tropical hotels entertaining. Although usually the story is much more -- like the time he and another reporter were trapped in a cell room next to a remote Congolese airport. (Sprung only by convincing a UN blue hat to tell his commander when he arrived at home base).
He's the rare type of shoe-leather reporter who isn't just itching for adventure, but knows how to wangle his way in for interviews with coup-plotters and dictators. Luckily for us, he decided to write books like this when he returned to Warsaw and his editors didn't know what to do with him (until the next foreign crisis) except point to a rickety desk in the corner, where he banged out some of his memories.
Kapuscinski was a great storyteller. He even made the suffocating boredom of waiting in moldy tropical hotels entertaining. Although usually the story is much more -- like the time he and another reporter were trapped in a cell room next to a remote Congolese airport. (Sprung only by convincing a UN blue hat to tell his commander when he arrived at home base).
He's the rare type of shoe-leather reporter who isn't just itching for adventure, but knows how to wangle his way in for interviews with coup-plotters and dictators. Luckily for us, he decided to write books like this when he returned to Warsaw and his editors didn't know what to do with him (until the next foreign crisis) except point to a rickety desk in the corner, where he banged out some of his memories.