A few months after Sarah was born, I resolved to get out of the house and back on the tennis court once a week. It was quite an experience picking up my racquet after not playing regularly for 15 years.
Here’s how you know you’re taking tennis lessons in INDIA:
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- You pay $12 for an hour of private lessons and your instructor’s name is Vimal.
- He answers his cell phone multiple times in the course of your hour lesson.
- There are a few landscaping workers who hide between the palm trees and the tennis court to shirk their duties and/or watch you return to your former tennis glory.
- The feedback you get after each shot is, “More fronter, madam”, “No hitting up, madam”, “Closing, madam”, “No squeezing, madam”, “Not hitting very good today, madam.” He is also sure to notify me every time a ball doesn’t make it over the net. “No.”
- The tennis balls are occasionally covered with soot because the court is built on top of the generator for the whole housing community.
- You get distracted by flocks of butterflies hovering around the court drawn to the beautiful flowers.
- Every single person who walks by stares. (“Look at the tall white lady trying to play tennis!”) The lesson is watched by every driver (car, autorickshaw, motorcycle) parked nearby.
1 comment:
this was hilarious. i had to laugh quietly because my roommate is sleeping in the room next door. oh man...so funny. the best was Vimal's emphatic "no"
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