I can tell you that after the game I was entirely clear on the rules of cricket and how to watch and evaluate it. And I now know that it's a great game.
^ First thing that happened when we got to the Farrand's house was that a group of young Indian guys ran up asked if they could take their picture with me. You may remember this phenomenon from earlier blog posts. Well, I had the foresight to ask them to take a picture with my camera, as well. Above is the snap.
^ Then when we got to the cricket field, I noticed that an ice cream vendor had decided to use the Hindu myth of Kali beheading his father, or whatever that story is about. Interesting choice of motifs.
^ This is the walk up to the gate. Thankfully, not our gate. Look at the crowd that was assembled around getting through that two-person-at-a-time entrance. It gives you some sense of what standing in line is like in India.
^ Our compatriots. Good folks.
^ At the end of the match, the cheerleaders had a hard time getting off the field. Various people were throwing empty mango juice bottles at them. They hung around for a bit and then made it off the field. No alcohol at these events, so the enthusiasm for throwing bottles is not what you may think.
Most of these cheerleaders are Americans on loan from the NFL. They have names like Amber, Bambi and Ashley. They are way out of their element, and many people actually
resent them. Until the last few games, they were wearing skimpy outfits and had bare tummies, just like in the US. But there was such an outcry from this traditional nation that they now wear sweat suits or black tights.
Clash of cultures.
Great game. And, for the record, our boys lost. Kolkata won.
