Chennai, On my Own

Vannakam!  That’s how you greet someone in Tamil, the language spoken in the state of Tamil Nadu in southern India.  The capital of Tamil Nadu is the city now called Chennai.  Until 1996, it was known as Madras.  With a population of 8.5 million people, Chennai is India’s fourth largest city. 

Culture shock is how I can best describe my initial reaction to Chennai when my flight landed at 3 a.m. on December 5.  I had been traveling for over 20 hours and I was hoping for a quiet transition into India.  No such luck.  The airport was mobbed and activity swirled all around me.  Dressed in my usual travel uniform of gray and black, I looked quite the outsider in the crowd of brilliant colors as I waited at the baggage carousel.  The women wore dazzling saris, bright colors amply accented with gold, and even the men were dressed in shirts of startling color. 

Through the fog of my exhaustion, I managed to change dollars to rupees and to work my way through the mob of people to the taxi stand.  Outside the terminal, the air was hot and muggy, the lights were glaring, and the noise of the traffic was deafening.  The roads around the airport were packed with pedestrians, taxis, auto-rickshaws, motor scooters, and stray dogs.  Doesn’t anyone sleep at night? I thought to myself as I settled in for the ride to the hotel. 

The Radisson Blu City Centre was my base for the next four days and nights.  Unlike the hotel where I’d stayed in Delhi many years ago, the Radisson was modern and featured air-conditioning throughout the building.  In fact, the rooms were freezing.  The thermostat in my room was set to 16 degrees Celsius, or about 61 degrees Fahrenheit.  “Americans like it cold,” is the explanation a member of the hotel staff offered.  After brushing my teeth with bottled water, I crawled into bed, pulled up the comforter, and slept until my alarm awakened me at 9 in the morning.

My strategy for dealing with jet lag is to ignore it and immediately start operating on local time.  Once I had fortified myself from the bountiful breakfast buffet, I set out to do some exploring of the city.  I had two days on my own in Chennai before my group tour began and I wanted to make good use of my time.  According to Google maps, the Government Museum, with its impressive collection of bronze statues, was only an 8-minute walk from the hotel.  That sounded like a good destination for a morning excursion.  “Yes, just turn right at the corner, walk a little ways and you’ll see the museum on the other side of the street,” the man at the front desk assured me. 

I set out confidently around noon, walking with care since sections of broken pavement forced me to step into the street at times.  It also seemed perfectly permissible for motor scooters to park on the sidewalk, forcing pedestrians into the roadway.  Whole families seemed to be perched on motor scooters, the women primly riding sideways in back of the male drivers. 

The midday traffic was ten times worse than the previous night.  The noise level was deafening.  There was a never-ending mass of vehicles on the road, and each and every one of them constantly honked its horn to signal its existence.  I glanced at shop windows, “pure veg” restaurants, and old men in dhotis squatting in whatever shade they could find.  Open-air stands selling sweets and snacks spilled onto the sidewalks.  After just a few minutes in the midday sun, I felt sweat running down my face.  Fortunately, I soon noticed the low red brick buildings of the museum compound.  Unfortunately, they were on the other side of the street, and there was not a traffic light or a crosswalk in sight. 

I reached a corner and waited for a break in the traffic so I could cross.  I waited, and waited, and waited.  Occasionally, someone would dash into the midst of the intersection, leading to swerving vehicles and even more honking of horns.  I would look on in horror, certain that I was about to witness a horrible accident.  Finally, after several minutes of waiting, I gave up and walked back to the hotel in defeat.  I imagined spending the next two days cooped up in the hotel. 

“I couldn’t cross the street!” I exclaimed the man at the front desk. He didn’t look at all perturbed.  “You go with a group of people and you’re safe,” he explained with a patient smile. 

I took a deep breath of air-conditioned hotel air before I stepped outside to try again.  This time I was determined.  Back at the corner, I watched as a group of potential street-crossers formed.  I gently angled my way into their midst.  When they moved, I moved with them.  There was an immediate bleating of horns, but a few seconds later, I found myself on the opposite side of the street, completely intact.

One of the buildings in the Government Museum complex 

For the next couple of hours, I strolled through the various buildings of the mostly un-air-conditioned Government Museum, looking at exhibits of bronzes, stone sculptures, and temple carvings.  I tried to recall the multiple representations of the different Hindu gods, and how to identify them based on their iconography, but I was soon overwhelmed.  However, I had no trouble recognizing Ganesha, with his elephant head.  The son of Shiva and Parvati, he is very commonly seen in southern India.  According to the exhibit, Ganesha is known for his ability to remove obstacles in everyday life. 

Ganesha 

Shiva is one of the major gods of the Hindu trinity and is the god most often worshipped in this part of India.  He is often represented in dancing form as Shiva Nataraja or Natesa. 

Shiva Natesa (11th century C.E.)

In the outdoor sculpture garden, Nandi, the sacred bull of Shiva, was resting in the shade.

Nandi (13th century C.E.)

In addition, I saw costumes, weapons, jewelry and coins from various historical periods.  Seeing Bronze Age artifacts from the Indus Valley brought back memories of my college archaeology class. 

Of course, after I finished up at the museum, I once again faced the challenge of crossing the street to get back to the hotel.  This time, I knew the routine.  I joined a small group and crossed with confidence.  Even the horns didn’t intimidate me now. 

At dinnertime, I crossed a different street to get a bite to eat at a vegetarian restaurant that clearly catered to locals.  There wasn’t a non-Indian in sight. The bill for a trio of tasty starters – bel puri, aloo tikka, and a samosa – came to about $3.  It was more than enough food.  

On my way to dinner - notice the Christmas store!

Afterwards, I wasn’t ready for the day to end, so I decided to walk a couple more blocks to check out “cotton alley.”  This long unpaved road is lined with open-air stalls selling fabric.  You can choose the fabric (cotton, silk, or cotton-silk blend) and have a tunic, pants, or dress made to order.  Confronted with so many choices, I found it impossible to make up my mind.  But as I was walking along, a ready-made dress displayed in one stall caught my attention.  It was a long, sleeveless sundress and the fabric was a black and white print that featured elephants.  Seeing my interest, the vendor immediately rushed up to me and quoted a price in rupees.  I remembered that I should bargain, however, as I tried half-heartedly to get my tired brain to do a rupees-to-dollars conversion.  In the end, I got the dress for 350 rupees.  When I got back to the hotel, I calculated that it had cost me about $6.

Aside from a slight feeling of guilt about bargaining down the price of the dress, I was feeling good.  I’d been in India less than 24 hours and I’d already started to feel comfortable in my new surroundings.  The feeling of sensory overload was fading as I became adjusted to the heat, the noise, the colors, tastes, and smells.  I went to bed eager to continue my explorations the following day.  

On my second morning in Chennai, I devoted a full hour to the breakfast buffet.  It was one of the most lavish breakfast buffets I’ve ever seen.  In addition to the usual “Western” breakfast choices, there was an Indian section and a Japanese section.  I could easily forgo the omelettes, cold cereal, pancakes and croissants when offered an array of more exotic items.  Masala dosa for breakfast?  Sure, why not!  Mango milkshake?  Yes, please.  I filled a plate with smoked salmon, papaya and pineapple, pongal and bonda (two Indian breakfast favorites). 

Masala dosa (rice flour crepe with spicy potato filling)

Bonda (one of the many fried items offered at breakfast) 

Then it was time to do some shopping.  A car from the hotel drove me through the city to several stores where I made a couple of small purchases.  We passed streets where every shop sold the same item, whether it was gold, or hardware, or silks, or electronics.  The sidewalks were filled with shoppers.  If it hadn’t been so hot out, I would have told the driver to drop me off and pick me up a couple of hours later so I could take my time walking around – but not in this heat.  I had to conserve my energy because the following morning, my OAT (Overseas Adventure Travel) tour would begin and I wanted to be ready.