Day 5: Indian Quesadillas and Indian Kilts

Day 5 January 18 (Day 2 in India...I think?)


Either my body was telling me it’s time to get up we have a long day ahead of us or jet lag is setting in...I think it’s jet lag since I woke up at 3:15 after about 3 hours of sleep and couldn’t go back to sleep. After some reading and two trips up and down the Indian TV channels I played Scrabble on my computer and caught up on some podcasts and then got breakfast with Mark. Evidently he had been up for a while also. It’s now 4pm-ish here and I’m not really tired so we’ll se how things go tonight. After another breakfast involving some fry bread, tea, toast and other things we were picked up by Martin and headed over to the stadium, a whopping 30 second commute to the building across the street. We worked on the schedule for the week for beach and indoor clinics (Jan 20-Jan 24) and also for the coaches clinic (Jan 27-31) and the university physical directors conference (Feb 1-2). We also got USB wireless connectors for our computers so we can have email access.We also met for about 5-10 min with the Secretary for Volleyball in India. He’s basically India’s equivalent to Doug Beal with USA Volleyball. All of the offices are located in the stadium and it was a great honor to meet with him. After a few hours of work we went to a restaurant known for it’s biriyani, the rice and meat dish Mark and I had yesterday for lunch and is the oldest restaurant in Chennai at over 100 years old. We had some lamb biriyani, Chicken 65 (because it was first made in 1965), and what I called Indian Quesadillas which is flat bread filled with spiced ground lamb and grilled. I’m only on Day Two in India yet I think I could have biriyani every day and still not get tired of it.

Of the highlights of lunch, either watching Mark get the business of a hot chili or me asking what the dish was that was being served and replying “Oh, it’s like an Indian Quesadilla”, were up there but by far the best part was us foregoing the western practice of using silverware and diving in with our hands, Indian style. There is certainly an art to eating with your hand and here’s a nickels worth of free advice...if you eat with your hands in India, make sure it’s with your right hand. Let’s just say that traditionally, people use their left hands for some hygienic purposes if you don’t have toilet paper. In fact, it is also considered very rude to shake hands with the left hand as well. We had a great conversation with Martin at lunch on Indian culture. I still find it very hard to even come close to describing our trip with any sort of clarity. It’s hard to believe we’ve been here barely two full days as both Mark and I feel much more comfortable here...and we even have toilet paper! one question we had was on dress and attire. All the women wear Sari's, traditional Indian dress but some of the men wear jeans and others wear only what we could describe as Indian kilts. Martin told us that is a traditional Indian style as well since it cooler and more, "breathable." Well then, here's to Indian kilts and getting some air movement down there.
Oh yeah, to keep ourselves busy, Mark and I have started coming up with sports to compete in while we are here based on what we have seen and this is our list: Ping Pong (or as the Asians and Christopher Walken call it...Ping Pong), badminton, swimming, boxing, Brahma Bull riding/rodeo, a taxi race with each of us in a competing three wheel taxi, and while I’m sure we will find more, our last sport is a death match winner take all race on a motorcycle on the main road for 100 feet. You will get minus points for hitting pedestrians since they are all over the streets and the object is to simply make it safely since I am firmly convinced that if you crash or hit something you will die. Have I mentioned the drivers are crazy here? This might be a reason why cab drivers in the states do so well. Trust me, driving in New York is a leisurely stroll in the country compared to the streets in Chennai. Have I mentioned the drivers here are nuts ?

We’re about to head over to the stadium (this time we’re making the 200 yd trek by foot, not auto and braving the insanity that is known as the street in front of our hotel. Wish us luck. Wait, maybe this is a new event in our decathlon, the 50 foot sprint of death. Actually, it's like an intense game of Frogger. Just call me George Costanza.