It’s our last week cheering for the Delhi Daredevils! I can’t believe how fast this job has gone. It’s been one of the standout experiences of my life for good reasons and bad. If you’ve been to India before I’m sure you’ll understand that the last 6 weeks have been full of dizzying highs and devastating lows. I didn’t think I could pack so much adventure, laughs, travels, performances, drama, tears and mosquito bites into just 7 weeks.

So we wanted to see a little bit more of Delhi then just our house, the airport and our local bar and we took a day to hit up some of our nearby temples. One of the most famous in Delhi is the Baha’í House of Worship aka The Lotus Temple, named for its incredible architecture. It literally just looks like a giant white lotus flower and apparently it’s actually the most visited building in the world. The Bahá’í Faith teaches that a Bahá’í House of Worship should be a space for people of all religions to gather, reflect, and worship. Anyone  can enter the Lotus Temple regardless  of religious background, sex, or other distinctions, which is the same with all Bahá’í Houses of Worship. Knowing this in advance we expected to have a lovely peaceful time there. But what we didn’t know, was exactly how popular a place it actually is. All we wanted was a group photo of us in front of this stunning building but it seemed 7 white girls lined up in front of if was an invitation for the rest of the crowds to whip out their phones and act like red carpet paparazzi. Most of the time we are happy to take photos of people if they ask nicely but this felt intrusive and rude. Parents were shoving their kids towards us to get them in a shot with us and shouting at us to look towards them… they didn’t even know we were IPL cheerleaders. Why would you want a pic of a bunch of girls you don’t know? It got pretty overwhelming and we had to be rude back to people just to get away and get on with our day. It’s such a shame because the temple was so lovely but we just wanted to leave soon after we got there.

Fortunately there was another less famous temple within walking distance so we cut through a park, stopped for an ice cream and a game of cards and made our way to the Hare Krishna Isckon Temple. And we had such a better time there! We met this lovely, friendly Hare Krishna man, from New Jersey of all places, just inside the entrance and he was curious about where we were all from etc and said he was staying at the temple and travelling India for a couple of months. We went our separate ways and wandered around the inside of the temple which was much more elaborate and decorative then the Lotus temple which is very simple. It was full of statues and paintings and shrines to the gods, people lying on the floor to pray and constant music and chanting of Hare Krishna. All the devotees who live there have their heads shaved and wear yellow or orange robes. And in this place, nobody cared that we were there. Nobody was gawking at us or making us feel like we didn’t belong. Then something awesome happened. We bumped into our New Jersey friend and he invited us to have dinner with him and the other devotees in the basement of the temple! Of course we said yes (besides I was starving as always). Hare Krishnas generally eat strictly vegetarian and without any onion or garlic as they believe it interferes with the mind and meditation. So we sat cross-legged on mats on the floor, men on one side and women (the few that were there) on the other. We had steel plates and the devotees who served us came along with enormous pots on wheels and spooned out delicious home made curry, naan and rice and we ate with our hands. It was one of the highlights of this trip I think. No photos, no rudeness or disrespect, just people eating together without any frills. It was one of the few times I haven’t felt like a peacock on show. Also the food was so fresh and clean and home made, not like a lot of the stuff we eat here.

And of course we couldn’t come all the way to India without seeing it’s biggest icon. The Taj Mahal is in Agra which is about a 4 hour drive away from Delhi so we booked a driver and a tour guide and set off at 6.30 in the morning. And man was it worth it. I was really on the fence about going, with all the travelling and the thought that if the Lotus temple was bad, the Taj would be like a riot. But our tour guide was really great and kept us moving the entire time. And the first glimpse of that massive, marble masterpiece really did take my breath away. It’s like a mirage or like it’s superimposed. You’ve seen so many photos of it that in real life it still doesn’t look real, it’s too perfect. So naturally we all had a full blown photo shoot with our guide knowing all the best angles and spots and basically being our creative director. And we learned all about this history of the Taj and how everything about it is perfectly symmetrical, to the point where there are two identical mosques built either side of it. And only one of them is used because the other doesn’t face Mecca! It’s made completely from white Indian marble and inlaid with semi precious stones like torqoise and onyx which makes the color change in certain light. Inside its very simple and small and all that’s in are the tombs of the queen it was built for, Mumtaz Mahal and the king who built it.

After we had photographed it (and ourselves) from every possible angle we got back in the car and our guide took us to a couple of incredible workshops. The first was a marble shop where the descendents of the Taj craftsmen still make insane art from marble and gems. They showed us exactly how they do it and how intricate and complicated it is to inlay stones into marble. As much as I wanted to take home a massive light up dining table, I settled for a little elephant pendant inlaid with mother of pearl. We also went to Aladdins actual cave, a shop where they handwove the most ridiculous carpets I’ve ever seen in gold dipped wire and thread. They also had so much stunning gemstone jewellery that I was actually happy my wallet had been robbed on day one. And that’s not all, they took us into a back room packed with traditional musical instruments and 3 men on a sitar, drums and something that looked like a piano/accordian mash up. Basically we had a good old fashioned trad session, Indian style! They performed traditional and Bollywood songs for us and they insisted we got up to dance since our guide had given them a tip off. I could have emptied my bank account in that place. Which in hindsight is why we were brought there. Our guide gets commission from what his guests buy. Then we flopped back into the car and slept all the way to Delhi.

Unfortunately our Daredevils have been hanging out at the bottom of the leader board for the past few games but I still love performing for the Delhi fans at the matches and cheering for our lads. We actually got the opportunity to talk to BBC India about our experience working for the IPL. We rocked up to a very different stadium compared to what it looks like on match days, with all the players training and practicing on the field and the stands being hosed down. We met the reporter and camera man and they took some shots of us dancing and faffing around on the field. We got individually interviewed as well which I am dreading watching back because I’m sure I said something super shady like “We’re athletes just as much as the players and people need to know we’re not just there to shake pom poms and smile…”. Which is true in fairness so what the hell. If it comes out well it might go to BBC Worldwide, God help us all. It’ll be a miracle if the Indian population can understand my turf munching accent.

Besides that we also got to hang out at the number 1 golf course in India on official Daredevils business. The team owners organized this big swanky celebrity golf tournament last week to sweet talk some sponsors into coughing up more dough for next season. We’re talking India”s 1% here. They were supposed to go out and hit a few rounds of golf with our players and we had to hang around at the holes giving out spot prizes in uniform and also perform at the opening. Nothing difficult but it didn’t sound like it was gonna be too exciting. I reckon mother nature agreed because she decided to throw the mightiest thunder storm I’ve ever seen at us. I thought a tornado would appear and sweep us off to Oz. But before it got too crazy the event organizer insisted on driving us around the whole course in a golf cart even while it looked like the sky was about the cave in. It was a shame for them as the course was really feckin gorgeous with waterfalls, quaries, rivers and a thousand peacocks casually strutting around. Rich people eh?! So we were deposited back at the clubhouse, posed for a million photographs, then rescued and brought up to the vip area where all the players, sponsors, management and owners of Delhi Daredevils were knocking back drinks like it was their day off, which technically it should have been. So even though we were working, when the CEO of the franchise hands you a G&T, you bloody drink it! Which led to us chatting to all the sponsors and players and finally getting to know them a little, which was actually cool. We’re kept completely separate from each other to the point where we can’t leave our dressing rooms or get in our buses at the same time for fear of what men and women will do if they interact! In fairness it makes sense because they don’t want the press to get a hold of anything that can be turned into gossip or slander against the team but it’s frustrating to be treated like a child when most of the lads are married.

We got to change out of our uniforms and go to this insanely fancy after party too which was so much fun but there is definitely such thing as too many free drinks. I was supposed to be on a flight to Kolkata at 5.45 the next morning which was definitely not high on my priority list as I was necking the chardonnay. But I did manage to get myself home and to the airport in relatively good time albeit drunk as a sailor. It all went tits up when I actually got to Departures though. In India, you can’t even enter the airport without showing your booking confirmation and my phone had died in the taxi. I tried to flirt my way in but the army officer was having none of my drunk bullshit so I had to go to the ticket desk outside the terminal and have it printed out. Unfortunately for me and a lot of other people, 3 flights with my airline had been cancelled (but not mine) so there were crowds of people going crazy trying to get refunds and new bookings… it was an absolute nightmare. I stayed there for an hour, shouting at people who kept trying to skip the queue and elbowing rude people out of my way. Not like me at all but I was drunk, alone in an Indian airport. It was dog eat dog. When I finally got my stupid ticket and made it inside, the line to check in damn luggage was also ridiculously long. I was panicking and twitching and muttering constantly as I watched the time to my flight departure melt away and when I finally made it to the desk, your man had the balls to tell me my flight had departed. I said “Sorry sir, it’s 5.30 and the flights at 5.45. Let me through, I still have time.” He point blank refused, no matter what I said to him and I had half a Boeing 747 breathing down my neck behind me so I grabbed my passport off him and stormed away. This is the first time I’ve ever missed a flight and I was SO upset. I just wanted to go straight back to my gaff and sleep but after refusing to let me enter the god damn airport, now security weren’t letting me leave. “Contact airline staff ma’am. Try the next gate ma’am.” I was like lads I’ve missed me flight just let me out! But nobody would listen to me so I just sat down in the middle of the airport and with great dignity, proceeded to drunk cry my eyes out. There’s a time and a place for drunk crying and this was it. Eventually some cop came over to me and asked if I was OK. I should have given an Oscar for the drama with which I answered him. I looked up akt him, sobbing theatrically and said, “I missed my flight. I just wanna leave this airport so I can go HOME and nobody will help me.” He was obviously like wtf get this hysterical white bitch out of my place of work and let me leave. But not before I called my long suffering sister in NYC while she was working and slurred down the phone at her in a blind panic. Shouts out Aoif for somehow always being there even when she’s 10 hours behind me. Anyway I made it home and definitely surprised my roommate Shantie when I fell in the door at 7 am. It’s a hilarious story now but God missing a flight really makes you feel like shit, especially when you’re a walking wine bag.

Which brings me to Kolkata. As I said before, I’m covering for a girl on the Rajasthan Royals team who were playing against Kolkata Knight Riders, which meant I could see my friends Dorothy and Amit again. I actually stayed with them for 3 nights and it was so nice to relax and breathe air that isn’t choked in Delhi pollution. Honestly Kolkata is such a nicer city. I met their two adorable kids and two adorable dogs, did some shopping in the markets and even subbed a class at their studio with about 30 seconds notice. Cheers for that one Amit! And of course I worked at the extra match which was weird. Didn’t feel right cheering for another team and I had absolutely zero interest in who won so it was quite boring for me. Fun to dance and do some different choreo of course but I was so not bothered about following the game when normally I’m glued to it.

So I’m now in the airport waiting for my flight back to Delhi so I can dance at our SECOND LAST match tomorrow night. I can’t  believe the end is nigh. I’m going to miss cheering and watching the games SO much. The atmosphere of being in a stadium filled with sixty thousands screaming supporters is very special. But of course with all work abroad, you can’t have an amazing experience without a bitch of a drama bomb being thrown in the mix. I’m reluctant to share negative details here because nobody wants to read it mostly, not even me. Let’s just say we were under a ridiculous amount of stress for a few days with regards to our boss and I have to wonder will I ever get a contract where things run smoothly and it doesn’t push me to the edge of my tolerance and make me want to quit some days? Only time will tell!

As for what’s next, I’m off to an ashram for a 3 day yoga retreat the day after the last match and I can’t wait to have the space and time to breath, meditate, stretch and switch off from the madness of Delhi. I’m not done with India yet but your gal has been working hard and I’m sure three days break will do me the world of good and restore my energy and positivity. Talk to you when I find my inner peace and have my chakras if not life choices in alignment.

Namaste!