A Boy’s Life at Shunem

One thing about Shunem boys is that they all seem to turn out to be pretty solid athletes. I suppose that comes from playing with boys older than you from the time that you are very young. A few of the boys here consistently win the different sports competitions in school. The sports are not what you would expect, though. They compete in things like Kho Kho, Kabbadi, and running. Kho Kho is a sort of complicated tag with two teams, and Kabbadi is a bit like British bulldog with an Indian twist. Even though they are avid football (soccer) players, they don’t play at school.

Football is what we play most around here. The boys play whenever they get the chance, even if it is early in the morning or the sun has gone down. The other day there was a holiday so the kids got to sleep in until 6:30. (hooray!) The boys, however, got up early (5:00) to have a nice match before the morning’s activities started. I try to play whenever I can, but I was pretty busy during that particular game. It’s pretty funny being back in the schoolyard game scene. Captains clasp wrists to pick teams, most rules go out the window, and lots of hopping the wall when no one is looking to retrieve lost balls. The best player is Shiva, and he is best by a long shot. Playing on his team is lots of fun, but it rarely happens. Neither of us is ever a captain, and we are always first and second picked for the teams. Even though he is only 15 he still outplays me more often than I would like. The best part about him is that he is such a good sport. We always high-five each other after the other one scores, and although he isn’t afraid to announce a wide margin he never really cares about the score.

Sunday is usually cricket day at Shunem, because the kids have the most free time on Sundays. Cricket is usually lots of fun, but is less fun for the younger boys than football. In football they can try to contribute and it isn’t a huge deal if they screw up, but in cricket they can’t catch the hard rubber ball and are pretty easy to bowl out. Mostly they just act as filler, but they are entertained enough just being part of the game. The best part of cricket is batting, of course, because you are hitting a rubber ball as hard as you can with a flat wooden bat. If the bowler isn’t good enough to make you work to hit it, you can hit it incredibly far so long as you don’t hit any trees.

When there are no bats or balls to be found, the boys have a long list of confusing games that are mostly just fun to try and figure out. Here is an average conversation while I watch a game I haven’t seen before:
“So what game is this?”
“Kurbukopi, Anna”
“How do you play?”
“Just watch, you’ll figure it out”
“I’ve been watching for half an hour, still no idea.”
“Well, one boy should run from this square and tag another boy. Then both boys should try to run back to the square while all the other boys beat them.”
“Beat them with what?”
“Hands, Anna.”
“What’s the objective?”
“To tag the boy and then beat the boys, Anna, beat them before they get back into the square.”
“How do you win?”
“Win, Anna?”
“Never mind, I got it.” (Nope, I don’t.)

Though the boys are very unhelpful when it comes to teaching me new games, they are always very helpful at other times. They’ll do just about anything for you at the drop of a hat. If they see you carrying anything, or doing much of anything, they will try to take over. It is usually nice, but a bit frustrating if I’m trying to do something with my computer or something else I’d prefer to do alone. If you are holding something they will always ask “I will catch, Anna?” Hold, carry, grab, and pick up are all replaced in the Indian dictionary by “catch.”

I’m always impressed by the boys’ resourcefulness. One day while Ashok was home sick we couldn’t find the kites. “We will build, Anna.” Not really wanting to spend my time building a kite that wouldn’t fly, and knowing we didn’t have any string, I gave a nondescript shrug. At that Ashok (11 or so years old) was off collecting supplies. He came back with two sticks, some plaster (tape), and some old newspaper. Good luck. A few minutes later he had his kite built, but still no string. Then he was off again. A minute or so later he came back with several long pieces of something stringy, but I couldn’t figure out what it came from. We tied the pieces together, and had about 20 feet ready to go. It wasn’t enough. “Come, Anna.” Figuring it was time to learn I got off my comfy bench and followed him to a corner of the grounds. There we came to a rice bag that was unraveling in its old age. Pulling several more pieces off he went back to the kite. Another few minutes and it was up in the air. These boys are something else.