By Bharath Balasubramanian
Date: Wednesday, the 30th of March.
Place: Lyantonde town, 170 km southwest of Kampala, a local restaurant.
Time: 3:15 pm local.
Background: If you follow cricket, you will get it. If you are Indian, you will get it. If you are Pakistani, you will get it. Even if you don’t have an iota of knowledge about the game but you do have an idea about the relationship between the two countries, you will still get it. Anyway, today is the day two cricketing giants are playing each other for a place in the final: a World Cup Cricket semifinal match (or game if you are from west of the Atlantic) between India and Pakistan. To restate the cliché for the umpteenth time, it doesn’t get any bigger than this!
Scene: After visiting a couple of SEED project entrepreneurs and a customer in the morning of our second day in Lyantonde, we decide to stop for lunch at the usual restaurant/hotel that had sports car and English Premier League team names instead of room numbers. I am imagining a conversation if we had stayed there: “Dan, I am in Manchester United. Where are you? Ferrari? Let’s meet outside Reem’s room, Chelsea, in 15 minutes to make dinner plans.”
By now, our client has already laid out the plan for the rest of the day. No, I will not be able to watch a single ball bowled during the
game. I have been calling my dad in India every once in a while to ask him for the score. As if this isn’t enough, the restaurant is out of power. So, even though Uganda does have the game on cable, my hopes of watching a part of the game while having lunch have gone down the drain as well.
After ordering the usual vegetarian Matoke with beans and a chapathi, I reach for my phone to make another call to my dad to find out how many runs India has made when a gentleman walks inside the restaurant. I give him that “hey-you-are-Indian-so-am-I” look, the typical expression of excitement that you have when you see someone of your own kind in a place where there aren’t too many of you. Impulsively, without even thinking twice, I ask him if he knows the game score. When I can’t hear his response, I get up from my seat to walk up to him, asking him for the score.
Easily enough, he tells me the score and a brief recap of the game thus far. Then it occurs to me that we need to introduce ourselves, explain where we are from, etc. To my surprise, he is from Pakistan!! Yes, from Pakistan; a pharmacist from Pakistan who has been living in Mbarara, a neighboring village, for the last three years. This is when the concept of odds and probability seems too absurd and inane to me to believe. After exchanging the story-of-my-life-in-30-seconds (or the sports fan’s version of the Career Management Center’s 30 second commercial), we share a great conversation about the game, the tournament, and how the other teams have played.
It is time for our next meeting with one of the entrepreneurs and I must take leave. We say the usual “nice meeting you” and part ways. We wish each other good luck in the game (read “you guys are gonna go down and get beat today!!”).
Moral(s) of the story: Indians and Pakistanis do look alike; they used to be the same country after all.
You don’t need technology or cell phones to follow international games. Just look around and you can get updates from the most unexpected sources.