Sunday, February 25, 2001

If you have ever wondered what it feels like to be a breadcrumb in an ant’s nest just take a walk through one of the bustling streets in downtown Mumbai. Captain Steve Waugh, a God in this part of the world, John Buchanan and myself, were invited to visit one of the communities in the red light district of Mumbai and talk to the street children. What a humbling experience! Once again, these kids with no material possesions but the dirty and torn shirts on their backs or ankle length dresses, couldn’t get close enough to see and touch forigners like ourselves. For a half an hour we took questions from a translator, while standing on a step of one of these squalid but infamous brothel rooms.

Within five minutes of arriving at our destination, the word had obviously got out that ‘Tugga’ was in the area. Like bees to the proverbial honey pot, we were surrounded by hundreds of inquisitive faces searching for a glimpse of Steve Waugh and members of the Australian cricket team. The very fact Steve Waugh was walking through the streets was enough to have these Indian cricket fanatics shaking with excitement and disbelief. It was like a chapter in the Bible, with followers of Jesus doing anythng to get close to the miracle worker.

This was the real India for me. On the streets there were animals roaming, people sleeping and washing and rice boiling. The smells, the sights, the noises, are so different to home that I walked with my eyes opened like a child seeing his first circus. It was fascinating, sad, enchanting, profoundly, confronting, complex and yet so simple. The way of life seems so simple, and yet in this squalor, the questions of why, seem to me so complex. But then, when there are so many people in such a relatively small area the answers become so obvious.

One thing that I noticed was the reaction of the women as we walked through the streets. Without fail every woman we saw turned their face from us and hid behind a scarf. When I enquired about this, I was told the reason for their reaction was that they wouldn’t want to bring disgrace to their families by being photographed by one of the many photgraphers following our every move. Because we were in the poorest of areas, a red light district, these women are considered by Indian society to be at the lowest echelon of the community. Hence the embarrasment of their predicament.

Equally as noticeable was the incredible knowledge in the game of cricket that even these people possessed. All of the children expressed that their greatest hero in this life is Sachin, and they knew everything about each member of the Australian team. There is no way any of these adults and children alike would own their own television set, or even radio, so how they acquire such a wisdom for the game is totally beyong comprehension.

Then again, I guess it is not that unbelievable when you consider the way these kids continue to smile and play, even though their living conditions are as unfortunate and dire as one could ever imagine. This tour is turning into more than just a cricket tour for yours truly. It is becoming more of an eye-opener into how lucky the majority of us really are.

In two days time Australia and India start a Test series and a battle that everyone is looking forward to. With every passing day I have to think that the battle of two cricket nations is minor compared to the battle that goes on every day for some people to survive on the streets of India.

From Mumbai

JL

You can also read:

Friday February 23, 2001: It is not as glamorous as it looks!
Thursday February 22, 2001: A day of casualties
Wednesday February 21, 2001: Slats turns 31!
Tuesday February 20, 2001: A sad reality check
Monday February 19, 2001: Invaluable exposure
Sunday February 18, 2001: A tough day in the field - Day 2 Vs India A
Saturday February 17, 2001: Kaspa or Kimbo?
Tuesday February 13, 2001: Pre-tour preparations
Sunday February 14, 2001: Getting the run-down
Tuesday February 11, 2001: Leaving Home