Well. I’ve had enough of that! So, I sit here pondering, once again, how exactly I am going to document more about my experience in Mumbai, what I’ve learned, what I struggle with and what I find hope in…and I remember – I forgot to tell you about the CRICKET game I went to a few months ago!
I totally meant to write a post about that. Please allow me to digress from a more “serious” blog entry and join in reading about my most recent Indian sporting event extravaganza!
I really love cricket. I may have mentioned that before. Initially, I rejected every opportunity to learn more about the sport because it was simply too confusing for me to watch through the lens of a long-time baseball fan. Take those baseball-colored classes off, Jamie! I did – and I was amazed at how FUN and captivating cricket actually is. Bravo sixteenth century England, bravo.
To learn more about my new fave game: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cricket
Back in May, my friends Yuming, Narola, Leah and I found ourselves in the possession of four Mumbai Indians v. Deccan Chargers cricket tickets. Our excitement for this pending adventure first manifested itself in the purchase of black market Mumbai Indians t-shirts. Very high quality. So much so that they actually dyed our skin blue. Hot.
Clad in our bright blue XXL t-shirts, the four of us met at the Wankhede Stadium in the Churchgate area of town. I was READY to document this momentous occasion. Jersey – check. Positive attitude – check. Fun friends – check. Camera – check.
Wait. Camera UNCHECK. No sooner do we get to the gate of the stadium and begin our procession through the four security checkpoints that my roommate Leah, after having her purse searched, is notified that she is not allowed to bring in her camera.
Say what? But…this is a sporting event. What the heck? So – side bar…I tend to become overwhelmed with a disgusting level of western entitlement when I am posed with even the slightest amount of restriction. Immediately, I jump all over this poor security guard and start giving him the third degree.
Why? Why can’t we bring in our cameras? Can we take the batteries out? No? Why not? If there are no batteries in the camera then it’s not a camera anymore. Can I take my cell phone in? Yes? But, my cell phone has a camera in it. It’s not the same? Are you sure? I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. What are we supposed to do with our cameras? We drove an hour to get here. You want us to leave our cameras at the shoddy shop across the street? Are you insane? Do you actually think we’ll get our cameras back? Let me talk to your supervisor. Are you calling him? I think you’re lying. Give me the phone.
I can get pretty nasty. It’s something I’m working on.
After a stupid argument with a man who was simply trying to do his job, Leah and I succumbed to the RIDCULOUS rule banning cameras from the stadium. (Seriously? I’m getting re-pissed just writing this!) Reluctantly, we made our way across the street and walked into the shop that was “holding” cameras for cricket fans who had failed to read the rules and regulations of being a sports fan on the back of their tickets (which, by the way – stated that carrying a purse was also not allowed but NO ONE seemed to have a problem with that. Lame). We said a prayer, handed our cameras over to the shop keepers and watched them place our beloved electronic devices in sealed plastic bags. They kept one numbered token in the bag with the cameras, and gave us another, giving us a ray of hope that we might actually get our cameras back at the end of the game.
After making a snide glance at the genuinely nice security guard I had developed a momentary hatred for, we made the long trek from the first gate through the array of security checks into the stadium.
I cannot tell you how good it felt to be in a stadium. There is just something inherently American to me about sporting events. Even though I was one of maybe four blue eyed people in the vicinity – I felt at home.
Wanting to capture the fullest Indian cricket game experience possible, I took a leap of faith and ordered a traditional Indian street food / sport fare delicacy – a FRANKIE. Awesome. I compare it to having a Kosher hotdog at a baseball game. You’ve just gotta get a Frankie. With my chicken curry roti wrap in hand, my friends and I made our way to our seats.
So – cricket games are INSANE. I liken them to a rave. Bolly-techno music blaaaring. Crowds cheering. Flags waving. It was a dream. Minus the meanies behind us who kept “kindly requesting that we sit down” I had a great time. We had awesome seats – I was within shouting distance of my favorite player, Lasith Malinga. OH, and my friends and I got on TV! HOLLA! I’m fa-fa-fa-famous!
We had a feeling being foreigners that we would get on the big screen! Too bad they decided to shoot us when our team was losing and we all had sad faces! Oh well. Even though they showed us on the “jumbo-tron” at least once during the game, we didn’t know we had been syndicated until we started getting text messages from friends who were watching the game at home!
All in all – the game was fabulous. I hope I can go to at least one more game next year. If you ever get the chance to go to a sporting event abroad, I highly recommend it. I loved watching the people of India become unified, start the wave, and cheer relentlessly for their team (even though we lost).
There is something innately human about cheering for a team; for the good guys; for GOODNESS. When I constantly wrestle with seeing the forgotten, watching the hustle and bustle of a megacity gloss over those in need, and witness blatant disregard for women, children and the poor it’s hard to pin goodness along with being human (and I’m not just talking about India…)
But, if people can rally together around a team playing a game…surely we can rally together to cheer on those fighting for goodness in the real world. If young children playing cricket in the streets can aspire to becoming sports heroes, surely we can do something to encourage and inspire them to become real heroes to those in need of rescue. And if Leah and I can leave our cameras with perfect strangers for hours, and actually get them back at the end of the night – then surely we should all have a little more faith in humanity.
Oh that’s right…we DID get our cameras back! We had our doubts, especially when upon exiting the stadium we saw that the shop holding our cameras was closed up for the night. Rage was beginning to boil up inside of us as we walked closer to the gate of the shopping area. Behind the wrought iron bars, a man caught our attention and he nodded his head in the direction of the gate – inviting us back there. Normally, we don’t follow strange men into dark alleyways next to shoddy shops, but there was something about his confidence that we’d actually follow him that made us do just that. Sure enough, crouched down in front of a few cardboard boxes in the shadows of the night, were the shop keepers, passing out plastic bags containing cameras to those with matching tokens. They kept their word and we got our cameras, not to mention an awesome picture of our “camera drug deal”. Amen!
Oh, and PS: How did we get pictures of the game without our cameras. Cell phones baby!
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