Then I warned them that American exercises would be much harder than the meagerly sweaty British stuff" and demoed push-ups, jumping jacks, knee bends, squat-thrusts, toe-touchers and other football based calisthenics"
With even more jumping, spinning and hilarious impersonations, they shouted "American! American! American!"
**
Thanks to God, Krishna, or the Pope, we had a shaded work out area. But none of those powers had provided us workout equipment" Or had they?
Along with our calisthenics, I soon showed the boys how we could use each other's bodies to push and pull to build strength.
Then I took them to the immovable walls that encased them and showed them how we would lift, push, and move them to get stronger.
**
Each time I came the boys would call out, "Sir, sir" Come see how straight are my push-ups... Come see how I curl the wall... Feel how bigger my muscle are becoming."
Of course, there were other reasons they would "Sir, come see" me.
Like when Pope Paul VI visited and provided about 30% of the school with their first beds. Then it was "Sir, come see my bed."
"Sir, come see my foot locker," laden with their one change of clean clothes -- the shorts and shirts they wore to the Taj.
**
What do first beds, foot lockers, and pushing walls have to do with "Breaking bread?"
It wasn't long before I discovered that for breakfast the boys had half a banana a day along with some kind of porridge.
Once a month for dinner they were treated with a meat portion with their dahl like sauce on rice. No fat to muscle ratio worries with these once-a-month-meat eating smiling kids.
**
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