Delhi, India (Part 1)
After a dramatic end to the 2023 programming season (Remember: I was stuck in a police station in Tunisia), it’s safe to say I was in need of a break. I returned back to the U.S. and took a short hiatus to collect my thoughts. I know myself pretty well by now though and as a result, this “break” was over just as fast as it had started. I immediately went back to the drawing board to plan out a busy, but exciting slate of programming for the new year.
First on the list was a country that had long-evaded me in my years of running Around the Worlds: India. I always found myself looking at it, planning it, and then backing out for fears of health, food poisoning, and just other logistical reasons. One time, I went as far to link up with some partners in the Mumbai area before ultimately pulling away. That was nearly three years ago. At the end of last year, I visited several countries that were near ground zero for the Israeli and Palestinian conflict. Then, I got stuck in a Tunisian jail. I figured there was never as good a time as now to visit India, so I booked a round trip ticket to Delhi.
Feeling excited and re-energized, I sent out a couple feeler emails to prospective contacts, including a couple different orphanages and other youth-based organizations in the local area. They responded fast and warmly, saying I only had to give them my dates and they’d take care of the rest. The first of such organizations was an ashalayam, an orphanage, going by the name Don Bosco, named after the worldwide faith-based organization. Believe it or not, I linked up with a Don Bosco affiliated orphanage way back in 2016, donating some precious soccer balls to a boys’ home in Jamaica.
I was excited to link up with them yet again, albeit in a different country. Based on my initial dialogue with Don Bosco Ashalayam’s director, Fr. Edward, I couldn’t wait to get started. With trips and programs booked out all the way until April, I was itching to get back to football, and I was stoked that we would be kicking 2024 off with a new country.
After a 20+ hour travel day, involving an eight hour overnight layover in Abu Dhabi, I finally arrived in the loud and hectic city of Delhi. I was greeted warmly by my Airbnb host, Sumeeta, who graciously allowed me to check in nearly five hours early to rest my head and recover from jetlag. She prepared a hearty breakfast full of bread and fruits and my head hit the pillow shortly after.
From there, I got to work. Yes, I had set up four programs with about 70 kids ahead of my arrival in India, but I had also brought nearly 100+ jerseys, footballs, and bags with me, meaning I had the resources to run at least one more session on the fly, if possible. I visited a school located just outside my flat, one I could hear playground chatter from every morning, and was turned away expeditiously by security. Choosing not to hang my head, I walked 30 minutes out to an orphanage for street boys known as Asha Grih, who quickly accepted the proposal for a free soccer class for their beneficiaries.
Coincidentally, they were affiliated with Don Bosco too! They all belonged to the same “family” of children’s homes. This was perfect because ahead of a busy weekend of four classes in two days, I would be able to get a program under my belt to get an idea of football culture in a new country, to see if language would be an issue, and more. This small class was held with about ten kids on a Thursday evening and we ended up kicking around for three hours until the sun went down. Each kid left with a drawstring bag, while some prizewinners received brand new Nike jerseys from Oakwood Soccer Club. Additionally, Asha Grih received a handful of soccer balls for the boys to use in their daily training.
With one India-based program already in my bag, I looked forward to Saturday’s sessions with Don Bosco. I wasn’t sleeping well and my body clock was still very much stuck on East Coast time, but I pushed forward. I had no other choice. The first of the two sessions was set up for 2 p.m. with Don Bosco’s “junior” team. I was given a list of their shirt sizes weeks before by Fr. Edward. I could only pray that the Hummel jerseys I packed courtesy of Vale Soccer Club would fit them properly. Oftentimes, beyond language itself, international sizing gets lost in translation too.
Ever-so afflicted by jetlag, I finished my clinic prep shortly after a 3 a.m. wake-up. I knew the chance of a pre-program nap was slim to none, so I laid in bed wide awake for a few hours before packing my bags up to head towards Don Bosco campus. Fr. Edward greeted me warmly, asking if the space was sufficient or if I wanted to walk the boys to a nearby park. Accompanying him was Fr. Akshay, who greeted me with the same enthusiasm and care, despite us not sharing any prior dialogue before Saturday.
“Wait! I want to play too!” he said, “Let me just change into my boots.”
“Take a jersey too, Father!” I yelled out, tossing a yellow Hummel jersey his way to complete the look.
In the same way as Fr Edward and Fr Akshay, the boys all introduced themselves with open arms and hearts, and I must say they were very helpful right from the jump. One boy offered to drag along one of my bags, while another grabbed a small side bench for us to place the bag on top of. From there, some of the older boys helped set up my first drill while the “juniors” prepared themselves in their best football attire. I introduced myself quickly, as I was waiting over a month’s time to run a session. Then, we jumped right into it.
First, our trademark listening drill. Then, relay races featuring a variety of dynamic variations. Lastly, an India-friendly version of “head it, catch it” with the day’s commands being sir or haath. Plenty of smiles and laughs later, I had them sit in front of me while I showed them how to do a neck stall, even challenging them to attempt a push up or two afterwards, if they could. As the first of two sessions wrapped up, I presented each prizewinner with a Better Everyday drawstring bag, before eventually lining all the boys up to give them each a new Hummel jersey. For the most part, they all fit, but in some cases the boys would need to grow into them. Still, though, they were all incredibly grateful and further, happy, to leave the session with a small remembrance they could wear well into the future on their team’s gamedays.
Right after, the juniors took to the wings as our senior players entered the fold. Unfortunately, with India having school from Monday to Saturday, our numbers were very incomplete on the day. I had planned for 40 participants and we hardly peaked at just over 20. If our junior session had been thin, the senior one was to be even more so. We had only eight boys present, all in their teenage years and above.
I didn’t sweat the numbers or lack thereof, since the intimate audience would allow for an easier delivery of lessons. We opened things up with our listening exercise yet again, and Fr. Akshay found himself smiling from ear to ear both as a participant and as a guest coach. Then, I designated a captain, a charismatic young man named Moyn to run an additional round or two. Careful not to recycle the same drills from earlier in the day, I introduced new dribbling exercises since I knew these boys would have a heightened understanding of the game.
Four boys were lined up behind a cone, across from them another four boys lined up single file as well. Halfway between them, one single cone. This exercise was not meant to be a race, rather, both lines would be working in tandem. Each player, equipped with a ball, would dribble towards the middle cone at the same pace as their partner across the grid. Then, once they reached the cone, they would perform a skill (a rollover, a stepover, or a turn) before either returning back to their line or dribbling straight through to the other.
This one proved to be quite easy, far more so than the one touch, two touch passing drill that followed. However, with plenty of patience and explanation, these older boys did eventually get the hang of it and our passing lines were soon operating like a well-oiled machine. As I broke off into two small grids to practice push-passes, volleys, and headers, I looked on with pride and glee at the boys donning their matching Hummel kits. They were rocking them, and I could only hope I looked half as good in mine as I watched from afar.
Nearing the latter half of the session, I ran a round of sir or haath while Captain Moyn took over for the second one. Finally, with two prizewinners on our list, we split into three even teams of 3 players, for a small-sided tournament. I promise though, the grid and the teams were the only thing “small” about this competition, as it was full of energy, tricks, goals, and tackles. With the program reaching its conclusion, I headed towards the front office to sort out some last minute things with Fr. Akshay.
I was leaving him with ten premier footballs for the teams to use, and obviously the kids had the jerseys they were already wearing during the sessions too.
“Is it okay if we can keep the rest of the jerseys? Only if you don’t need them…” Fr Akshay asked reservedly. He was hoping the kids might use them for their friendly matches against local competition.
“Sure thing!” I said, setting aside all of three jerseys to give out as gifts at my last programming day on Sunday with yet another different organization.
Equally as helpful as to when I had just arrived, the boys assisted me in packing up my bags, as Father insisted on walking me over to the Uber rickshaw I had called. Hesitant, perhaps rightly so, that I would be able to find my way through the bustle of Delhi, an older boy from the second session named Jetin insisted on coming with me in the rickshaw just to make sure I got to my home safely. I won’t lie, it’s a good thing he did as we did get lost like three or four times!
As we rode together in the back of the “auto”, he shared about his life plans, how he was studying economics and minoring in Hindi, but his real passion is videography, even producing his own music to run in the background of his videos – though he was currently very limited in his hardware, filming only on his phone and editing in free software like CapCut. His eyes lit up as he spoke about his dreams, and my ears were more than happy to listen.
As I pulled up to where I was staying in Sector 10 and paid off the rickshaw driver, I thanked Jetin for helping me arrive safely and for his assistance throughout the program. “Text me when you reach your home too,” I requested, as he walked towards the front gate with a smile and a wave.
If 2023 programs ended with a flurry of emotions and chaos, it was comforting to know that 2024 started off in a subdued manner. Playful kids, welcoming partners, faces full of joy, and homestays meant to feel just like that – home.