MEXICO WAS UP AGAINST SOUTH KOREA, and Triana, captain of the Mexico Women’s Kabaddi Team, was preparing to launch into the opposing side. She nodded at her teammates, took a deep breath, and darted across the court. “Playing Korea was really fun,” Triana later recalled. “It was so fun, I started laughing in the middle of the game!” As she crossed into the South Korean team’s side, she sensed in her opponents’ confused expressions that something was wrong. In a few seconds, a Korean player, trying to contain her own laughter, leaned forward and whispered, “Kabaddi, kabaddi, kabaddi,” kindly reminding Triana to do the same. Triana took the hint—she had forgotten one of the fundamental rules of the game—but started giggling, and soon she and the entire South Korean team were in a fit of laughter in the middle of the match. Despite the roaring crowd, the incident set a cheerful tone for the rest of the game. Mexico lost to South Korea in a landslide: 14:72.
For the Mexican team, the first Women’s Kabaddi World Cup was not just about competition: the team had travelled across half the world to Patna of all places to play a sport that doesn’t exist in Mexico. “We’re pretty conscious that we’re new,” said Aranzazu, a Mexican player.
The road to Patna began years ago, when most of the Mexican team, then children living in Mexico, were sent off by their parents to the Miri Piri Academy (MPA), a boarding school in Amritsar for Sikhs of foreign origin. The school was started by the late Harbhajan Singh aka Yogi Bhajan, the spiritual leader of an American offshoot of Sikhism. Study, prayer and Kundalini Yoga were central to their education at the MPA, but a handful of students also fell in love with kabaddi. “I think it’s the most fun sport I’ve ever played,” said Alejandra. When they returned to Mexico, they took with them a commitment not only to the lifestyle of Yogi Bhajan’s Sikhism, but also to the sport. But with kabaddi virtually unknown in Mexico, the women had little chance to practice.
Last December, Triana, by then back in Mexico, heard from a friend from America who had also gone to the MPA. A group of MPA alumnae, the friend told her, had got word about the first-ever women’s kabaddi championship, and were forming a US women’s team. Driven by the idea of returning to India to play kabaddi, Triana reached out to her former classmates from Mexico who “knew how to play kabaddi and loved the game”.
The response was encouraging. Within weeks, the newly-formed team had found a coach, and began practicing four times a week. Triana even recruited a couple of her more athletic friends who had never played the sport before. Ana, who only started playing kabaddi a few months ago, quickly threw her heart into it. “In kabaddi, we are the ball. If you are in the corner and you know that they are going to hit you, you have to have passion,” she said. “I have passion.”
Unlike most of her teammates, Ana came to India for the first time—and what shocked her most was the traffic. Driving in Mexico City was crazy, she said, but nothing compared to Patna, where their bus driver got into three accidents in as many days. Still, she liked India: “People are so welcoming. It’s like in Mexico—women just want to give you more and more food.” Her teammates, who had spent their school years in Amritsar, were happy to be back in India. “I feel calm in the middle of chaos,” said Alex.
Twelve teams arrived in Patna from all over the world. After their loss to South Korea, Mexico went on to play India. They lost again, 23:49. “They knew they were going to win,” said one Mexican player, “so they went easy on us, so we could just have fun.” Regardless of the Indian team’s strategy against Mexico, Triana didn’t feel defeated. “It was an honour playing with them,” she said.