Walking Around Triplicane - Everyday Chennai

When you read about Chennai, you'd be more than interested to make a visit. It seems to have a multi-hypenated veneer: it's the capital of the state of Tamil Nadu; it sits on the Coromandel Coast off Bay of Bengal; it's an agglomeration of close to 9 million people;  the Cultural Capital of South India; and hailed as the country's most livable city. Among its industry is Information Technology, and it has  a sizable population of Catholics. Pitch this to me and I am there.

Unfortunately, all these "feathers in the cap" don't translate to much for a tourist. The sites in the city seemed limited and navigating around with transportation other than your feet is complex. Tuktuk drivers charge 250 to 300 rupees for a point-to-point travel within the city center (where locals are charged a fraction), and if I were to move from one site to the next, this accumulates to a hefty sum. It was one of the most frustrating places for me. In short, while people were more relaxed, the system was not too tourist-friendly. Unfortunately, when you're traveling the south, you're most likely to spend a few transits in Chennai, a new name for what was once called Madras. Frankly, I'd rather stay in less popular Trichy

What fascinates me more than its unsophisticated tourist system is its people. On cursory observation, Tamil people have characteristic features: dark skinned, plump to heavy, and the men wear skirts, like Myanmar's longyis or the Malay's sarongs. Unlike the aforementioned, these masculine drapes are shorter, above-the-knee types, mostly white or off-white (a good number are multi-colored). Their anatomical features are more punctuated in Tamil movies which are becoming more popular these days. In these flicks, their most popular stars aren't half-Caucasians (like many Bollywood actors, right Ms. Katrina Kaif?), nor do they have Greek physiques and gym-buff bods; aquiline noses and parlor-coiffed tresses. Their actors are dark-skinned and heavy framed. Now that's what diversity is all about. Yet when these Tamil actors shake their booty, they can still dance up a storm. How fun.

In 1639, the British built Fort Saint George. The activity around this development eventually created a bustle where a community grew.This new town was called Chennapattanam, and shortened to Chennai. Where did they get that term? This was allegedly culled from a Telugu ruler named Damarla Chennappa Nayakudu who was owner of the lands. The British came to buy it, thus the homage. Originally named Madras, this was later changed to Chennai to rid the city of its colonial past. I kinda like Madras.  

So one morning, I decided not to punish myself with autorickshaw rides. I decided to just walk around Triplicane and Egmore. I checked my mail at an internet shop (25 rupees/hour), then went to a post office, hoping I could buy a Chennai postcard which is not available anywhere nearby. It turns out, a Chennai postcard is almost non-existent which underlines the state of tourism here. Instead, what the Post Office had were blank note pads which, in lieu of a picture postcard, might as well be the replacement. What's more surprising was the unbelievably inexpensive postal rates: 0.50 rupees for a postcard stamp sent anywhere in the world - and 15 rupees for a snail mail letter. Which part of the world can you find such bottom-scraping postage fees?

I checked out some shirts from Komala Xclusif and got one at 175 rupees. I saw Paradise Guesthouse and Broadlands Lodge, both popular with backpackers. Passed by All-Saints' Catholic Church, a middle school, a Boys Hostel, and the Masjide Hafiz Ahmed Khan. I bought a fruit juice at 17 rupees and contemplated on getting a haircut - they only charge 35 rupees for a barber's.

Later that morning, I went to Hotel Sealord Restaurant where I ventured on a tandoori chicken, a popular chicken dish in India, Bangladesh and Pakistan where roasted chicken is prepared with yogurt and a coterie of spices. I wanted to checkout a tandoor, the cylindrical clay oven where this dish is cooked, but the kitchen looked busy. It would have been the perfect place to see authentic tandoori preparation. Cheap at 85 rupees, coupled with mushroom fried rice at 50 rupees, it was the first time I enjoyed a tandoori. Most times, whenever I see one elsewhere (tandoori chicken is quite popular even in Manila), I pass it up because I don't like the orangey colored food. But this wasn't bad at all. For a day predicated on poor first impressions, this was turning out pleasant.

This is the Eye in the Sky!

Men wearing skirts. They are, I think, officially called dhoti, aka pancha. It is considered formal wear too. But these dhotis are particularly short, above-the-knee garments in Chennai.

Gentleman wears a dhoti.

No post cards, but notes at 15 rupees sent to any international address.

Of you just need stamps for a postcard, this will cost you 0.50 rupees. Imagine that. 

At 35 rupee per haircut, Chennai has one of the world's cheapest.

All Saints Church

Masjide Hafiz Ahmed Khan (above and below)

Broadlands Lodging House is popular with the backpack crowd. Paradise Guesthouse (below) is nearby.

A fruit shake or a juice? Yummy at a measly 15 rupees.

Tandoori Chicken

Mushroom Fried Rice at 65 rupees, but where's the mushroom?

Chennai's Marina Beach - World's Second Longest Natural Beach

Marina Beach carries a record of sorts. This Madrasi stretch is a daunting, albeit inviting 13 kilometers making it India’s longest natural urban beach. It faces the Bay of Bengal and drains further into the immense Indian Ocean. But I didn't know all these before I went there. The beach is the single most important itinerary for tourists in this area. Who doesn't like the wind against his face? Or the seductive dipping of your feet on a cascading ripple of water on powdery sand? This natural beauty is stuff that inspires poetry. And the wind that blows continuously on the coast dissipate all your cares in the world.

From my hotel (Anitha Towers), I leisurely walked several blocks before finally reaching the beach. The roads were punctuated by uneven ground, and 50 meters before the promenade, I saw a machine siphoning sewage by the roadside, the hose was spewing grimed excreta all over the road. I froze when I saw the brownish puddle occupying a good part of the road.

What is with Chennai (Madras) and her utter disregard to keeping feces contained in places where people couldn't see, touch or smell them? I am just baffled. I was barely two hours in the city and I've already encountered fecal displacement in a very public manner. First, at the rail tracks then here.

BETTER SCENE

I proceeded to walk, trying hard to ignore the unhygienic and gut-churning display. The beach will be a better scene, I was sure. The sand at the Marina was fine, unlike Mumbai’s rocky formations. Its beige color would glisten like gold in the bright sun, but for now, it was just a wind-swept seaside locality with few people. It had been drizzling all day. Had it been sunny, this place would have been filled with daytime revelers. This after all is India’s most crowded, with throngs reaching 50,000 during summer weekends.

Marina, it turns out, has always been popular. In fact, a picture (shown in this page) taken in long forgotten 1913 showed a musical parade trooping the ground. The waves here are supposedly cantankerous so swimming was discouraged, but what I witnessed wasn't so. Water was shallow and there were boats parked from a distance. 

A band parades at the Marina Beach in 1913. This photo only courtesy of wikipedia from the negatives of Messr. Nicolas and company.

A guy on a motorbike bumps against a CNG.

Later that day, I visited a restaurant for a bit of a snack. I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I needed to check-out the local gastronomic fare; nothing fancy. Just the usual everyday stuff that people order. I got Oman Uthappam (35 rupees), chicken omelet (45 rupees), and a pot of coffee (25 rupees). I liked the Uthappam (spelled differently in various places: uttapam, ooththappam, etc.) This dish isn't crisp nor crepe-like, but thick like a pancake, with toppings cooked right into the batter.

The chicken omelet was like any omelet with strips of chicken on it (which I ordered just in case the uttapam didn't agree with my gastronomical requirement). The smell of coffee was heady. Just when I thought I’d have a single cup, I was served a whole pot! But what caught my eyes were the little platters filled with different condiments (if you call them that). There’s jam, butter, dhal, etc. Beautifully arranged, like culinary toys. I couldn't take my eyes off them. There were 4 pieces of toast. I took note of the other items on the menu: idly, vada, pongal, sada dosai, etc. Each one sounded as exotic to my ears. Meanwhile I had a whole plate of uttapam to consume.

This is the Eye in the Sky!

Utthappam (left), toast, chicken omelet and a pot of delicious coffee.

Uthappam

Chicken omelet

Like culinary toys

Stormed and Drenched in Chennai/Madras

I don't exactly remember if I encountered rain in India during this whole journey. Not even a drizzle, I don't think so. But as my night train slides oh-so-leisurely into Chennai, the terrain has abruptly changed into water-logged plateaus, marshes and lakes of greeneries. In fact, the surrounding areas around Ennore Station were completely submerged underwater.

Cyclone Nisha had been bearing down on Chennai for the last 3 days or so. My bunkmate tapped my knees and said, "See the rain waters?" I nodded and glanced at the flooded lakes of vegetables.

So - storm was abrewing in South India as the rest of the country is reeling from the series of bombings in Mumbai, particularly in the Colaba area where I stayed just a few days ago. Terror,as it turns out, never sleeps, and I cringe at the kind of conscience that these idiotic, pea-brai
ned, soul-less gargoyles have.

I just stayed in my swanky hotel (Hotel Anitha Towers at the Triplicane area) the whole morning through, sleeping through lunch. By 2PM, I was refreshed and ready to go. The heavy rains have stopped.

The streets of Chennai (Madras) are dirty and unkempt. As I walked towards the Marina Beach,supposedly the world's 2nd longest beach (after Bangladesh's Cox's Bazaar), there was stink of human excreta filtering through the air. Sewage had been sucked out and all these drained openly into the streets.

I cringed!

In a matter of minutes, the view of Marina Beach welcomed me. There was a wide expanse of beige sands and interrupted dry islands that stretch lazily into the harsh waves. After all, there was still a cyclone. I loved the steady blow of fresh air against my hair. In 30 minutes, the drizzling turned into a downpour. I rushed towards the watershed along with the rest of the locals. I was drenched all over, as the draught spared no one, not even us who were under the shelter.

It must have been an hour before I finally decided to leave and get absolutely wet! Men draped in short "tapis" carried useless umbrellas. A motorcycle got hit by a delivery truck - then the latter hurriedly left while people gathered around to help the hurt driver. Meanwhile, the man in front of me was already throwing up. What the heck! That was my signal to go!

I love the rains, though it hinders mobility. The waters calm me. I am all drenched down to my shoes, but I feel rejuvenated. I hope Nisha behaves tomorrow. I need to go!

P.S.

Just for clarification, travelling to India (and Malaysia and Bangladesh) isn't exactly a pauper's budget; not when you consider 6 plane rides, countless train journeys which are mostly A/C rides with meals (not 3rd class), and very comfortable A/C hotels. After more than a dozen cities, any birdbrain could calculate that this whole undertaking involves a sizable fortune, at least for the daily wage earners. And this I am writing not to brag but to rightfully inform the uninformed! Meanwhile, I'm off to the beach - now that sun shines - finally! - over Chennai!

Lifestyle of the Rich, Famous and Dead in the Deccan Plateau of India

Chowmahalla Palace. This photo only courtesy of rahul kumar.

Golconda Fort

Nizam's throne at the nizam museum - photo courtesy of flickr's krithika

Now something has to be said about the drivers - autorickshaw, taxis, tuktuk drivers of india. They are the bane of a tourist's life. They come to the world with dollars and moolah instilled in their minute cerebral cortex. In the spirit of my insightful musings, i would like to dedicate this post to them:

MAY EVERYONE OF YOU DECIMATE, DISINTEGRATE INTO SUBMOLECULAR PARTICLES WITH NO CHANCE OF REGENERATION! FURTHERMORE, MAY YOU ALL ROT IN HELL AND BE FED WITH THE CHILLIEST INDIAN DISHES THAT WILL BURN YOUR IDIOTIC GREED TO ETERNITY! Having said that, may every greedy Indian driver turn into amoeba where, at least they will be excreted to where they rightfully belong - the sewers!

Hmmm. That felt better! LOL

It was interesting how these ancient lives of rich men, mughals, kings, emperors mirror the affluence of the past as it also puts a distinct comparative demeanor to how 1.2 billion Indians live nowadays. 90% wallow in abject poverty, and when your stomach is churning and doing cartwheels, all matters of decency jump off the window.

NIZAM

The Nizam's Museum was particularly interesting to me. Accoutrements made of gold and silver, ivories and marbles - everything would equal the grandeur of the royal jewels of the British Monarchy.

Golconda Fort was a 20 minute ride from the city. It sits atop a hill - and the whole fortress is an inspired amalgam of towers and temples. From the top, you can see the awesome view of Hyderabad.

CHOWMAHALLA PALACE

Chowmahall Palace was also picture perfect. Divided into 4 towers, all the old riches of the ancient owners are in full view; some available for public photography; some not! And of course, there's an extra fee if you take your still camera or video cam with you. Everything in India has a price - for foreigners! And why not? Beauty has a price.

I just felt lazy today so I opted not to check out the museum and just took a walk around the lanes and the nearby market. Gosh! I consumed 3 different kinds of ice creams, which are said to be famous in Hyderabad - as well as the Karachi breads.

Another One

I will be on another overnight train journey going further south tonight. Am starting to feel the tedium of these train journeys, although I know I shouldn't complain. But it does take some physicality - and require stamina.

Chennai, here I come!

This is the Eye in the Sky!