Journey to India

When I realized I was going to Mumbai, India with Vision Sports to do basketball camps and clinics in two weeks, a flood of questions, to-do lists, and excitement, among other feelings, came rushing to the forefront of my thoughts. The first one was “Do Indians even play basketball?” My lack of knowledge about a culture and a people who live halfway around the world was overshadowed by the passion that instantly burned inside of me to teach the young Indian players and their coaches about the game of basketball and the life lessons I have learned from the game and my own personal relationship with Christ.

Vision Sports is an organization based in Spartanburg, S.C., that uses sports as a tool to break down barriers and cross divisions to establish goodwill both in the U.S. and around the world to see cultures, social groups, and even countries grow closer through the medium of sports. I first learned of this organization about four years ago when I was the head coach at Palm Beach Atlantic University, an NCAA Division II school located in West Palm Beach, Florida. My office phone rang, and Scott Duke, the Director of Vision Sports, was on the other line telling me that he got my name from a mutual acquaintance and wanted to me to go on an overseas coaching tour with his wife Wendy. Consistent with his persuasive personality, I found myself signed up for a trip to Myanmar with a group of females who were going to train the men’s and women’s national basketball teams. The trip ended up being an outstanding experience and I knew that another trip would be in my future.

Fast forward to May 2015. I had received an invitation to Vision Sports' Annual Fundraising Dinner, so I drove down to Spartanburg, S.C. and was able to reconnect with some of the people from the Myanmar trip. We had a great time reminiscing about the people there, the interesting food and the cultural differences we experienced. Mid-conversation, I asked about any upcoming trips they had. "India in two weeks. And we need one more person—a female basketball coach." I do not believe in coincidences, but instead in divine appointments. It was at that moment I realized I would forgo any further plans to spend my vacation week anywhere else but in Mumbai with a group of six other people who shared my same passion for sports, people and our faith.

Our group of seasoned overseas travelers included Scott Duke, the founder of Vision Sports; Heather Morrow, Scott’s sister-in-law and assistant director of Vision Sports; Tab Vasilas, a former Clemson women’s basketball sharp-shooter and current director of a youth home in South Carolina; Dr. Gabe O’Sullivan, an avid sports lover and chiropractor in South Carolina; Bobby Behan, a member of the Air National Guard serving in our U.S Air Force, and Kellie Shilling, a former track and field star and current massage therapist. With all of us having been on a Vision Sports tour in the past, we knew to come with high expectations of what the trip would entail because of the way we had seen lives transformed through sports on past trips. We just knew that it was going to be great! We were going over to partner with a group started by Bowling Green alum Vinod Muthukumar and co-founder Mohan Sundaram called "Elevate India Sports," which is an organization designed to give the Indian youth an opportunity to develop their basketball skills, as well as a platform to perform.

With less than two weeks to prepare for the trip, I had hardly processed the fact that I would be flying halfway around the world on a flight that lasted 15 hours. I can do a LOT of things in 15 hours, but being a coach, that never confines me to one space for that long (although, recruiting days in a gym in July are a close second). When I boarded my flight, I tried not to think about it. Instead, in typical extroverted fashion, I instantly decided to befriend the Indian family with a precious 2-year-old daughter next to me as soon as I sat down so I would have someone to talk to! 15 hours without talking to anyone but flight attendants seemed brutally hard!

When we did finally arrive, it was 9 p.m. Mumbai time, which meant that with the nine and a half hour time difference, my family and friends back home were probably just heading out to lunch. To say that it was exceptionally hot there even at that late hour was an understatement. Even though we had seen the setting sun a few hours ago from the air, the temperature was still about 100 degrees outside. Sweating while trying to maneuver our luggage around, we were met by two drivers who did not speak English very well, so we entrusted ourselves and our belongings to their care and set out for the hotel.

Traffic is NO joke! Driving on the opposite side of the road adds a completely new perspective. However, what added an entirely new dimension to the traffic insanity were the horns blaring every second, drivers of bajaj (three wheel taxi often called an auto rickshaw) weaving in and out of traffic with seemingly no respect to road signs or laws, and people dodging moving cars as if it were a game of chicken and they actually stood a chance to win. In trying not to get carsick, I would close my eyes as we made wide turns that appeared as if we would simultaneously get side-swiped, run over a pedestrian, and find ourselves in a head-on collision. The traffic flow and driving conditions made New York city drivers look like saints.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the town on our way to the hotel, we were able to briefly observe a broad spectrum view of the demographic representation, which was later confirmed as we drove between the court locations. It was as if National Geographic pictures had come to life. Young girls holding hungry babies were begging in the streets, men with sun beaten skin and riddled with age lines sat asking for food, others found solace lying on the street sidewalks. Women sat at busy intersections as their children rolled around playing on the sidewalks. Grown men took bucket baths on the side of the street. During the day, cover from the sun and heat often came from trees or traffic barriers, sometimes makeshift tents. It was clear that Mumbai has an oversaturated population of people. It was almost as if the streets were bursting at the seams trying to corral the people traffic.

After my first experience of driving in India, I was very happy to arrive at our hotel in one piece and not terribly car sick. The exterior did not quite match that of our American hotels, but the interior was very nice for Indian standards. Although it did not have central air, which meant the heat from the outside easily found its way into the hallways, the air conditioning and fans in my room were more welcomed than ever before in my life. The hotel was attached to a banquet hall, so the music played well into the early hours of the morning and you could feel the bass through the mattresses making it seem like you had an additional heartbeat. The streets outside were noisy with people walking, peddlers peddling their goods, and horns blaring. However, for us, this was home for the week, and I was grateful for a place to lay my head after the long days of pouring out all of the basketball knowledge we could in each coaching session.

We had an amazing week of basketball and fellowship. We held camps and coaching clinics around the city of Mumbai (usually 3-4 per day) to help expose the young children to new ways of training for basketball, as well as create opportunities for them to improve their fundamentals. The amazing thing was that most of the courts were outside, which is something you hardly find in any of the organized camps we host in the United States. One outdoor court was located on the Arabian Sea in Priyadarshini Park where we trained a young group of kids who had signed up to be coached by the “Visiting Foreign Coaches from the USA.” Walking onto the courts greeted by Indian children was an amazing experience. Regardless of the heat (which on most days was about 108 degrees with the heat index) or how tired they were, they were always excited to see us. Waves, smiles, and what we endearingly called the “head bobble" greeted us daily! (We learned from the children that when they moved their heads rapidly from side to side, it usually meant that they “didn’t know something,” “did not understand something,” or were merely trying to process the information you were telling them.) It was one of my favorite things to watch. Imagine a group of them “head bobbling” when you are talking to them, absorbing every word you said like it was the best news ever. What gripped me every time though were their eyes. So big. So clear. So attentive. So eager. So beautiful. So trusting. And their smiles! So incredible! They are a truly beautiful people. Pictures (mostly selfies, which confirms how global social media really is) did not do them justice.

We spent a great deal of time trying to break the game down to teach them the “basics.” For example, to teach them how to have the proper shooting form, the very first day, we tried to teach them the B.E.E.F technique (Balance, Eyes, Elbow, Follow-through). This did not necessarily translate very well because, as a major part of Hinduism, most of the people do not eat beef. When we were explaining this concept, the heads started bobbling, so we knew something was not right. Scott came over in between sessions and mentioned that we may need to use a different analogy to help them better understand our lesson. What a comical faux pas for us. Later in the week when we witnessed cows walking down the streets of Mumbai, we realized why this was something that they had a hard time understanding and became more concerted in our efforts to make sure our lessons translated better than that.

What also did not translate well were the food choices on the menus at the Indian restaurants. I am a visual person, so when it comes to ordering food, I always appreciate having pictures on the menu so I can have an idea of what I am about to eat. Since there were no pictures to assist my food selection at our first Indian dining experience without our English-speaking host Vinod, I asked the waiter to pick a traditional Indian dish for my meal, which resulted in a very interesting option: Masala Mutton Curry (a spicy curried chicken in a green paste). When presented, the dish looked like baby food (peas to be exact). I can only imagine that my face turned the color of the dish. In not trying to offend the cook or the servers, I had to be strong at that moment in my resolution to be “Indian” for the week and I bravely tried it. The rest of the week, I was sure to ask Vinod what I should order, and he was always careful to consider the well-being of our American taste buds.

Experiencing Indian culture in the variety of ways we did was amazing, but the best experiences were the ones spending time with the children and coaches. Amidst the pouring out of basketball knowledge to teach them how to do defensive slides, using ball screens, talking on defense and boxing out, it was neat to see how unity was created right away with the connections we were able to establish. Regardless of whether we were high-fiving them for a great pass, blowing the whistle to adjust their defensive placement, or sending them to the end of the court to do push-ups after a missed lay-up, they really brought all that they had, stayed engaged and energetically encouraged each other. You could tell they were all-in to being a part of something greater than themselves. When teams typically "break huddle,” they give a count and say some meaningful word. On their own, the children decided to say “Team.” Every time they shouted it, they shouted it loudly—their voices full of pride in the unity that overtook the group.

I would not trade the pre- and post-basketball session group-talks we had with the young children for anything. Our conversations were filled with relating, expressing, laughing, emoting, teaching and understanding. They were full of questions, learning about each other, and having a good time. Walls were deconstructed, barriers came down, and there was freedom of engagement which resulted in a pure and mutual respect. The connections we made will certainly last a lifetime.

When it was time to say goodbye to the children, my heart was heavy because I had to leave but it was so full of joy for being able to spend that amazing week with them. I wanted to bring them back home with me, but I knew that the reason I was there was to leave a piece of who I am there with them—aside from basketball and life knowledge, I was able to leave them with the love and compassion God gave me to show them throughout the entire trip.

To look back now after we arrived safely back in the U.S. is incredibly humbling. Thoughts and memories swirl with how welcoming the Indians were, how wonderful it was to work with young children who asked you to stay forever, and how grateful the coaches were to have gained new knowledge about basketball, training and sports performance. The relationships that were formed throughout the week were nothing short of incredible. This trip was both heart- and life-changing, and the people of India now, and will forever, hold a special place in my heart.