Goodby for now!

On this our last day in India, we are managing urbanity. We left the rural areas yesterday and took the almost 4 hour drive from Pondicherry to Chennai which is some 100+ km to the north. The city lies also along the Bay of Bengal but there ends the similarities between the two. Pondicherry is a small provincial city with a strong French history while Chennai, once known as Madras, is clearly reasonably large urban India – not on the scale of Delhi or Mumbai but still very urban none the less.




Here, the traffic has a more rule obeying element to it. There is some effort to stay within the lines and on your side of the road. Many of the motorcycle and scooter crowd actually wear helmets. Red lights are honoured. Crossing the road as a pedestrian, on the other hand, is a much more treacherous effort. The pedestrian, always the lowest caste of any moving object in Indian traffic, seems to have even less importance here.

There are malls here with young Indian women presenting with a real mix of trying to look western along with those who hold onto Indian dress and some floundering somewhere in between. Frankly, the boys have the most unflattering dress here but, thank God, they have not resorted to the levels of trying to determine the lowest possible point that a pair of pants can be held onto the body. The stores here reflect the mix with many flaunting western models.

The city has its share of mildly hidden poverty and pollution surrounded by major building projects and gleaming office towers. As you cross the river, the walls of the bridge are built up so that you cannot see the pollution or the make shift shanty town that exists on the river’s edges.

It is also much noisier here with more honking being the norm.

We have met what perhaps might be the most obnoxious auto rickshaw drivers who believe that saying no to them is only opening up a whole new set of negotiations. As you wander from the hotel they assault you immediately insisting that you need them urgently to take you even for a few blocks. If that is not accepted then they are sure that you have a program lined up for later or the next days that you must book them for at rates that are astronomical. We got into one to go 2 kilometers – he nattered at us the whole way that he would wait and bring us back and then he knew just the shop we needed (of course, he had no idea that we were looking for anything in particular, but that didn’t matter). I did see a rare sight within the ranks of these drivers though – a female. This is almost exclusively a male domain and in my 3 months here I have only seen two.

Upon arriving in Chennai and booking into our hotel, I had my first hot shower in 3 months. I gave my hair the best cleaning it has seen since leaving Calgary and scrubbed layers of Auroville dust off me that had begun to look like a second skin. It was magnificent. Even so, when I dried myself more dirt came off. Now, lest I be accused of trying to turn into some ancient hippie, I did bathe daily in Auroville but I guess there is only so much that can be accomplished with a bucket of hot water (or I am just not proficient at it). So the Auroville dirt is off me but the spirit of the place travels with me.

Here in Chennai there is a more conservative dress. I have only seen two men wearing shorts and they were clearly tourists fairly fresh into the country (as judged by their white skin). The men here wear long pants at least in public. I have only seen one woman in shorts and she was quite obviously from North America.

The heat here has become more intense. It is about 37+ here today. The sun is strong and even with 3 months of sun upon me I did manage a small sunburn on one arm. As I write this, the internet tells me that Calgary is about 40 degrees colder. The thought of it!

Leaving India is difficult. It is a magical country – not without its problems. There is real poverty here; child abuse in various forms is staggeringly high; the child death rate in parts of India is greater than most places in the world – and the list could go on. Yet, there is also things that make this country fascinating, progressive and incredibly interesting at every corner. I shall miss being here.

The transition home has begun as we spend this day or so in Chennai. We are at a hotel of somewhat luxury means – hot water; a swimming pool; restaurants – but it reminds me a lot of the first hospitals I worked in - polished granite floors and rooms that look like they were either wards or staffing residences. In the early hours we leave for the airport and begin the 21 hours of flying and 6 hours of airport time (Chennai and London) that will end up dumping us out in Calgary. Fortunately, we leave having consumed a magnificent Indian dinner – our last supper so to speak!