Random Thoughts from Bill's perspective

Greetings from a guest contributor …… (That's me, Bill !)

Reading Clarissa's blog causes me to reflect …… What is it about India that has me so intrigued?

Certainly, it is not the "major sites". They are frequently underwhelming and/or repetitive.

The temples are crazy neon smorgasbord of Indian gods, including the elephant – headed Ganesh…. but they tend to be remarkably similar after a while.

As an Anglophile, I adore the British Raj railway stations and government buildings… but, again, they are few and repetitive.

There is no Statute of Liberty, no Bourbon Street, no Chinatown, no Disneyland, no Grand boat rides, no Times Square or Piccadilly Circus, Louvre or Met Museums …… few “must– see” sights.

So what is it? It is the random, daily details that make the experience so compelling.

The appeal is the "small" sights.... the small, bare-bones, metal, kiddie carousel in the middle of the beach… that is powered by a hand crank…… and the proprietor waving you over for a ride.

The sport/thrill/aggravation of negotiating for an auto rickshaw ride … then sitting back during the scenic ride and realizing you've been arguing over ten cents!! And then the driver short - changing you at the end of the ride!!

Two proper traffic lanes filled five “lanes” of horn-honking car, motorcycle, moped, and auto – rickshaw traffic, moving at different speeds but somehow managing to flow smoothly.

Walking Bose Street in Chennai, navigating through old ladies selling garlands of flowers, honking motorcycles, the occasional cow, bizarre groupings of shops (car steering wheels, anybody?), occasional beggar, and more… an assault on all the senses of hearing, smell, and sight. Exhilarating!

Several times a day someone comes up to you and asks you, ”What is your country?”, followed sometimes by “What is your good name?” (the literal meaning of ”surname”!).  Always followed by, “what do you think of India?”. Then they walk away. Unlike Egypt, they are not trying to sell you anything.

It is the incredible variety of faces ….. easily 1/3 of the faces you see on the street  (any street, any time!) are etched with character worthy of a major photo on your wall.

Standing with my backpack on the platform in Delhi’s main railway station (previous trip), being bumped from behind, turning around, … it is a cow wandering on the platform. 

The doors in almost all railway cars are left wide open during the ride …  which makes sense, because they frequently don’t fully stop at the various stations. You sometimes need a running start to jump on board.  Hanging out the door with the wind in your face watching life go by is one of the highlights.

A place so intense that either you love it, you hate it, or have a love/hate relationship.  There is no ”It’s okay” middle ground.  Much like New York City… which explains why we live here !!

Random Post 2

By the time we were set to leave India, I had had enough of it.  Not that there was any one thing that weighed on my psyche, but the noise, dust, crowds, and the ever present tang of urine was beginning to take its toll on me.  I was happy to be at the airport and glad to get on our flight to the UK.  

As we spent time telling Anna and Andy about our trip, and filling in Lyn and Alan as well, I began to feel a bit nostalgic for the street scenes.  I commented to Anna, that when I next washed my hair, I'd be getting rid of the last of India.  That saddened me.

Bill has always said that as one takes a plane away from India, you start conversations with your seat mate and discuss how you were glad to see the end of your Indian experience.  As the plane nears its destination, however, you are starting to think about your next trip to the sub continent.  

It took more than a plane ride, but as I am writing this now, I am wistful about my time in Tamil Nadu.  In its totality, the trip was eye opening, breath taking, (both literal and figuratively) as well as a journey into a cuisine that I had familiarity but only with the North Indian foods.  My taste buds still long for Idli, Sambar, Dosa, and Dal Makhani.  I can keep these close to my heart by preparing them often, but my versions will not come with the noise, dust, crowds, tang, and cows that wander the streets in Tamil Nadu.

Perhaps I am ready to venture into northern India.  Only time will tell.  The calmness of the south was very soothing as were the gentle ways of the people that live there.  The chatter of car horns and motorbike horns were never in anger, but were notification that someone else was near by.  

I also miss the call to prayer that echoed 5 times a day in most of the towns and cities that we visited.  It served, for me, as a reminder that I should take out time to be thankful for the opportunities that I am lucky enough to have and take advantage of.  My life would not be this way but for Bill.  While it is not pray time, I want to thank him for his never ending generosity, kindness, and thoughtfulness.  I don't know where I would be without his mellowing influence. 

Saturday, Feb 10 and Sunday Feb 11

As our time in India is coming to a close, we are scrambling to get all of the "sights/sites" in before we leave on Feb. 11.

Today, we opted to go to Saint Thomas Cathedral which is the one on the eastern coast, as opposed to the one on the Mount.  

We wanted to take a suburban train again.   We trek to Egmont Station, buy our tickets and head over to platform 10.  To get to where we want to go, we need to take the train north 2 stops to change to the appropriate south bound train.  All goes well.  I'm in the ladies only car, and Bill is hanging out the door again.  

We spoke to the train station master before getting on the north bound train, and he said to cross over to the farthest platform to get the south bound train.  Which is exactly what we do.

After about 5 minutes, an announcement comes on that the south bound trains are being canceled until 4 pm.  Perfect.  We now need a plan B.  We exit the station and find a tuk tuk to take us to the Cathedral.

We are a bit confused because by now, we understand Chennai geography, and we seem to be heading in the wrong direction.  Perfect.  But, it does turn out that using maps.me we can see what the driver is doing and relax into the ride.  We go through neighborhoods that we have never been in or driven through.  I am enthralled by the street life.  

We get to the Cathedral.  It was founded by the Portuguese when they ruled south asia.  There is a large girl's school trip there at that moment.  We troop into the sanctuary after them.

This is the first time either Bill or I have seen a fully clothed Jesus on the cross.

A couple of young men took our photos in the choir chairs.  These were the MOST uncomfortable chairs I have ever sat on.  The arm rest, which our photographer insisted we put our arms on, were so high it was obviously not meant as an arm rest!  In India, you need to take off your footwear when entering holy places.  That's why we are without shoes or socks for that matter.

After visiting the sanctuary, and headed into the gift shop, because, what do kitsch hunters do?  Nada, there were no glow in the dark Jesus' or other such items.  Bill is regretting not buying the glow in the dark Mother Theresa at the other St. Thomas on the Mount.

We were told that there are only 3 churches on the spots where an apostle died, St. Peters at the Vatican, Campostelo in Spain, and this one.  There was a crypt/chapel across from the rear of the church that was more of a meditative place.  It was a long narrow space with pews on each side and a central aisle to the altar.  It was cool and quiet.  Much needed at this point in the day.

After we left the church, I was getting hangry, so what else is new???  Bill spied this Kati roll place.  In we went.  The rolls were quite tasty.  A kind of Indian burrito of sorts.  Stuffed with the veggie item of your choice.  I think it was opened recently and catered mostly to school kids and young people looking for a quick bite.  He offered us some homemade ice cream, it was paan flavored!  A strange taste sensation.  Sweet, savory, fennely/anise-y, and creamy.  

We wandered around a little bit longer and took a tuk tuk back to the Pandian Hotel.  We retired into the bar and had a couple of Kingfishers and, I believe, went up to bed as we had to catch a 7 am flight to London the next morning.  

In other posts I referred to the light switches in Indian hotel rooms.  Here is a picture of one.  Now, imagine another 3 or 4 of these multi-panels and you can see our problems.  No idea which switch turns on which light in the room.  The one you rock may not turn on any light in your room.

This panel was next to Bill's side of the bed.  The rheostat knobs controlled the speed of the two ceiling fans 

This panel was near the door to the room.  These rockers may turn on the bathroom, over bed lights, over head lights, lights over the mirror in the bathroom, etc.  No idea!

Another interesting quirk of Indian hotels was the toilet rolls.  They were miniscule.  Good for one go maybe 2.  

We didn't quite get it when we checked into hotels that the bellhop would ask how long we were staying, then return with 2, 3, or 4 rolls depending on the length of your stay.  Invariably, this would be insufficient and we would need to get more at some point.  Even rolls sold in stores were on the tiny side.  Must be an Indian thing.

We awoke at 3 am in order to be ready to get our 4:30am cab to the airport.  Cab ride was uneventful and we arrived at the airport just as the sun was starting to make its appearance.  At that hour, the airport was surprisingly busy.  I guess there were lots of international flights going out.

We checked in, found the gate, boarded, and landed at Heathrow around 2 pm GMT.  What a shock in terms of the weather:  rainy, cold, chilling.  No longer 80 F sunny and humid.  Could already feel my shoulders starting to lock up!  

We holed up at a Costa coffee in the airport drinking coffee trying to figure out how to get cash and which tube line/s we would take to get to Greenwich where our niece lived.

We arrived at Anna and Andy's beautiful apartment around 5:30 pm.  Let we go in reverse here.  We exited the tube station at North Greenwich and because we didn't have wifi, we needed a cab.  We find the black cab queue and got into the first one.  We take off, and are cruising around for what seemed to be too long a time.  The cabbie turns down Bannister (?) street and is driving back and forth looking for the address.  We finally ask him if he wouldn't mind calling Anna or Andy to find out where we should get out.  Back and forth we go again, and finally Bill says, we'll just get out and figure it out on foot.  We knew we were close.  We find the building, the entrance is off the street and just steps from the Thames Walk.  We ring the flat.....ring, ring, buzz, in we go into the lobby.  We walk over to the elevator lobby which is divided from the entrance by a door that needs to be buzzed in or you use a key fob.  Elevator door entrance locked.  Back to entrance buzzer, buzz, buzz, buzz, no response.  Another couple exits the building, and we dash into the lobby again.  Eventually, there is another couple going to the elevator.  We follow like sneak thieves.  We let them go up, and then realize that we need the key fob to use the elevator.  We didn't even know what floor their flat was on!

Bill exits and heads to the nearest pub to try to call Anna again.  He returns, no better luck.  So we head to that pub, the Pelton Arms, and sit down for a glass of wine and beer.  For us, it is about midnight and we still have these gigantic packs on our backs...  Andy arrives and is quite sheepish, as he said he never heard the door bell and had been waiting at home for our arrival.  We are so grateful, he came to the pub to rescue us!

Andy had thoughtfully prepared a beef stew for dinner and all was right with the world by the time Anna arrived home.

And thus ends our Indian adventures.

I was truly sorry to see it end.