Meanwhile, in another galaxy far, far away

Only in Senekal and Swellendam could Sundays be sleepier than in Hamilton, New Zealand.

That changed yesterday, when a self-described "ad-hoc" Zimbabwean group, and the Soweto Gospel Choir, issued wake-up calls that would have been heard all the way from the city centre to the faraway paddocks of this dairy-farming community.

The beautiful noise boomed two hours before South Africa and Zimbabwe played their World Cup match a kilometre away at Seddon Park. First the Zimbabweans delivered a tuneful tremble of voices and drums. Then the choir let loose a righteous, raucous riff.

The locals looked on with eyes wide and locked on the stage. White folk took it all in with polite incredulity and the occasional twitch. Maori folk could not have stood still if they tried, not that they tried.

The music rolled across time zones and cultural divides and racial differences and made everyone present what they are before and after everything else: people.

Among them was Koki Mugabe, a medical scientist who has lived in New Zealand for eight years.

Was he, umm ...?

"Related to the president? No," Mugabe said. But he was Zimbabwean: "The only South African I know is my wife."

She was not around but their teenaged children, Thabo, in a Zimbabwe cap and a South African shirt, and Mpho, wearing a Springbok top, were.

Nearby, Colin Scheepers looked ready for the cricket in his sunhat and South African shirt. He lives in Cape Town and was in New Zealand to visit his daughter, a teacher in Tauranga, about 100km to the west of Hamilton.

"She still loves supporting South Africa," Scheepers said. "but the little one, my grandchild, talks like a New Zealander."

When the show ended the throng began making their way towards the cricket ground. Presently, the dying duck squawk of a lone vuvuzela disturbed the restored peace.

It was replaced by the soulful strains of a pukaea , a Maori war trumpet, played by a tattooed, grass-skirted warrior standing tall on the boundary just before the teams took to the field.

Then the crack of willow on leather, and the applause it earned, took over the soundscape. All around, Hamilton listened intently.

* Instead of another rant about the State of the Nation fallout, we thought we'd publish this little off-the-cuff piece by our cricket correspondent, Telford Vice, because sometimes it's OK to imagine oneself in a faraway place where people are just people.