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The muscles in their feet may be programmed to think at bullet-speed and scoot as fast as they can in a 100 m dash. But, something more banal has got them standing in front of a rack in a super-store. For this pair of South African sprinterstheir nation's speed guns at the Commonwealth Games Village in Delhithe agenda for the evening after all the hi-tech weight-pumping in the gym and the workouts at the training tracks, is to step out into the International Zone or the I-Zone and find themselves a toothpaste tube. It takes much mulling and then some vocal bickering for a few seconds to choose between the two brands stacked in the store. Finally, a shared enthusiasm for colour-and-shine prevails, as the athletes choose a sparkling gel toothpaste over a basic white one.
The two could have the world and its precious endorsement dollars at their feet and are seen by the larger audience only when sprinting or preparing for that split-second run. But the Games Village has turned athletic superstars into ordinary mortals, confronted with the same choices of retail market.
Between the glamour and adulation or intense failure of the sporting-stage shared with thousands, lies the Games Village, a short passageway where athletes seek normalcy, mingle without grudges with fellow sportspersons, and, well, stand and dwell on mundane matters like choosing toothpaste.
The three-sided rectangular pathways of the International Zone of the Delhi Games Village are both the literal and figurative strolls in the park, before the obsessive job of competing takes over in the coming fortnight.
Lined with souvenir shops and ice cream parlours, beauty salons and a golf simulator, the I-Zone is where the visiting athletes have been spending their evenings, even as the superstorewith its mounting shelves of authentic Worcester Sauce and sun dried tomato chipsmakes them feel at home. Thankfully, the athletes, even the English who crave for their Herefordshire crisp munchies, are loading up only on the beverages and sports drinks, and giving the carbs a rest. Ostensibly. Many calorie counts have gone for a toss in the face of the seducing Dining Hall of the village.
"The Dining Hall, with its large spread of African, Asian, Indian and Continental cuisine, is like nothing I've seen before," says Scotsman James Liang, who has packed his meals schedule to include everything that can be served on the platter that comes out of the giant kitchen. "Though it's tough to not return to this African buffalo delicacy every day," he says, guiltily admitting to his indulgence.
The Indian hosts know they have their visitors at the first whiff of butter-chicken even as piles of naan disappear. The great Indian trickused by all, from homey Indian moms to Mother India in its entirety at the Games hereof overwhelming guests with the most sumptuous spread and leaving no stomach or mind to growl with complaints, is out in the open.
The exotica is drilled in further as Canadian weightlifter Marilou Dozois Prevost takes less than two seconds to decide to step into the salon and try out half-a-dozen herbal treatments before she was ready to join her team for dinner. "The place pampers you completely, and it's good to know that after the day's hard work, there's an evening of simple pleasures," says the 22-year-old.
It's a self-sufficient villageeven has fooz-ball, air hockey, pool-table and board-gamesand though Shera would like it very much if athletes bought the memorabilia with his image imprinted for finding him cute and adorable, a group of shooters from Gibraltar simply enter a souvenir shop to pick huge mugs for their evening downing of beer. Cheers to Shera.
For a group of Barbadians, though, the hunky and dory are still an evening away as they sit at bank counters and fill out annoying slips and approach the card-swallowing ATM machine with some trepidation. The sense of being in a foreign country suddenly kicks in when they stick their tongues out in fear in that wee second before the cash and the ejected card reappear. "Once that's settled, the Village and the International Zone look brighter," says Roger Kian, a teenaged wrestler.
While the swimming pool and the dining hall as also the massive gym are places where athletes like to unwind, the I-Zone, with its disco and bar, is where they let their hair down.
It is also where a rank unknown sprinter from little-known Angula can flex some of his bravado and declare that he is the chosen man the mighty Jamaican runners ought to watch out for. Standing in a mobile phone gallery, his declaration gets a group of Aussies and Malaysians to break out into spontaneous cheers for the bragging bloke and insta-friendships are struck.
While the Scots go looking around for plain white scarves to twirl in their traditional fashion of cheering on a sports field, you know that save for a hardcore sports-related souvenir shop, the I-Zone has got it right on most counts. You don't expect Delhi to go wrong at something that mirrors the ground floor of an expensive mall. "One stroll around and you figure that Indians have spent a lot of money on this," says Indian-origin Kenyan squash player Hartaj Singh Bains. "The swimming pool's a luxury, and you wonder what the fuss was all about once you've sorted out the living quarters," he says.
The ceremonial welcomes at the Plaza for every nationwhere Indians have turned on the culture taps full-blast with dance, song and silk finery of stoles for every athleterun through the day. In the evenings, the finest acoustics set the tone and the amphitheatre with its curving egg-shell semi-roof comes alive with colourful lights.
The Welsh, a huge contingent, turned out one evening in full numbers, some young gymnasts having shopped for Himachali caps and joining in the revelry, learning a few folk dance steps after their official welcome. Fountains lining the alleys and plenty of concrete benches to simply lounge means athletes are found cycling around the Village and then sprawled on the aisles with their laptops. The internet centre is always full with Facebook status messages to update.
"What's unique are the dance shows early evening. And the music," gushes South African boxer Lebogang Kilane. Contrary to the thumbs-down given to A R Rahman's CWG special song in India, many foreign athletes seem to sway to the slow strains of Oh Yaaro, Yeh India which plays on a loop in the open-air amphitheatre.
"I'll associate my time in the village with this music, always. It has a very international feeleven some African riffsand grows on you slowly," says Bikile, another South African athlete. "It's soothing but groovy at the same time," says an English squash player, who prefers to sit and listen to the music all evening.
No such time to pause and reflect for some of India's star-athletes, though. Like Vijender Singh, who, even if not mobbed because volunteers are bombarded with propriety lessons, do get stared and swooned at, with even the men gaping in wonder at a star of their own.
As the floodlights come on at the neighbouring training ground, a few pugilists choose to shadow-box outdoor on the tracks. Inside the I-Zone, pranks are out in full flow as a Singaporean brings a bald team-mate to the salon for a free hair-cut.
An English couple taking a stroll hand-in-hand suddenly pause, as the boy hollers about what the golf simulator is wickedly called by the rest of the men in the contingent. She's been keen to try out the 3-D screen onto which to hit the simulated drive, but the girl rolls her eyes when told it's referred to as the Games Village's G-spot. Turning crimson red and squarely on her heels, she walks off in a mock huff. No matter. There's always the ice-cream parlour next door, and the chocolate cookie fudge flavour, over which to make up.
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