Weekend Adventures

It was in a word, most excellent.

Our second and last weekend in Chennai came on Friday night and we embraced it with vigor. Friday night, Ted and I got our '80s on at the Leather Bar at the Park Hotel when we saw one of the founding members of Duran Duran.

Those of you who know who Andy Wickett, raise your hands. Now go to confession because you're an awful liar. Andy was the first lead singer and wrote their hit Girls on Film. He was kicked out of the band.

Dammit, I was famous once!

Gee I wonder why? Maybe because he looks like the love child of Keith Richards and Eddie Izzard. Yup. That's probably it.

Anyway, he was fantastic. He was Hugh Grant in Music and Lyrics, but with a snarl instead of a whimper. Why was he in Chennai? A stop on a triumphant world tour perhaps? Not quite. He's a computer animation expert and is teaching a class at a local university. Gigging about is how he gets his kicks on the weekend.

How did we get our kicks on Saturday?

Shopping. Well, shopping and two quick cultural expeditions to San Thome (the burial place of St. Thomas...Doubting Thomas in the Bible) and the Bay of Bengal.

Interesting Fact #1: San Thome is one of three in the world built on the burial ground of a saint. The other two are St. Peter's Basilica in Rome and Saint James the Great at Santiago, Spain.

The Basilica at San Thome

A painting of Thomas inspecting Jesus' side

Relics containing bone fragments of St. Thomas

Interesting Fact #2: The beach at Chennai is the second longest in the world (Miami Beach is the longest) and the longest in Asia.

Family day at Marina Beach

A beautiful day (Photo by Ted)

A moment right out of National Geographic

But really, we shopped. We shopped for saris. We shopped for wooden goods. We shopped for jewelery. We shopped for...well, you name it and we shopped for it. You people are voracious. We spent about five hours filling orders for all things Indian. Dealing with vendors and haggling was a new experience for me. I'm not good at it. Thank God for Anil. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it so I got the best deal possible.

Basically, everything is negotiable. Everything. Also, there was a "White Guy Comin'" tax of about 20-50%. We are strangers in a strange land and everyone knows it. Sharks smelling blood have nothing on some of the vendors we encountered. Used car salesmen could take a master class.

People would follow us for several feet after we passed them and beg that we enter their shop. "Very good price, very good," was a refrain we heard a lot. And if we did go into a shop, it was hard to get out in many cases without buying something. Several times I expected a shop owner to pull out pictures of his starving children. Children who were starving because people like me wouldn't buy large wooden elephonts that had other wooden elephonts carved inside them.

It was complete and utter culture shock, once again. And, here's the kicker, we were in a mall. A mall. A mall with fancy elevators and escalators. And hordes, freakin' hordes of people. Macy's on the Saturday before Christmas had nothing on the Spencer Plaza on a lazy Saturday in June.

Look at all the people (Photo by Ted)

A rabbit warren of shopping adventures (Photo by Ted)

During our eight hour excursion, we shopped for about five hours. When we got home, I went to the gym. I couldn't run on the treadmill because my feet hurt so badly. But that's not the point. The point is we shopped so much because stuff is dirt cheap here. You should come on vacation. India is indescribably beautiful and a hell of a deal. Saris for six bucks. Cell phones for $50. An entire meal for all of us...with fried ice cream for dessert (who knew, right?) for less than a ten spot.

Visit. Seriously. It's amazing here.

So that was Saturday.

Sunday, Ted and Anil chilled out in Chennai (Ted did a little more shopping and hit the gym twice - I'm impressed with both his stamina and his dedication. Anil went to a baby shower for Rajashwari). I hopped in the car with our faithful driver and went down to see the temples at Mahabalipuram. Words don't describe these ancient relics carved right into the Earth. Seriously, I don't have the words, so here's a link.

And here are some pictures.

Welcome to Mahabalipuram

This guy rocks!






Welcome to Shore Temple

Ok, ok, so I have a few words. It was a very interesting day. And I'll leave out the whole thing about almost dying four times on the drive down as I don't want to upset the relatives. Indian drivers are, well, fearless.

Anyway, Ted and Anil had visited Mahabalipuram the year before and had given me some good advice. First, they said that the vendors and guides would be relentless. Second, they said it would be like nothing I had ever seen. They were right on both counts.

People approached me from the moment I left the car. Because it is the low season in India there were few tourists wandering the ruins. I was an easy target. The only way I can compare the vendors from Saturday and the vendors from Sunday is to draw an analogy from professional sports. The guys on Saturday were the rookies. On Sunday I met the all stars. Every vendor had the best quality geegaw or tour for the best price. Every argument I made, they had a counter argument. Every time I said no, they lowered their prices. After about five minutes I had my fill. After an hour I was starting to get annoyed. Saying no repeatedly was more tiring than the 110 degree temperature. It really was.

So that's when I almost caused an international incident.

At the Shore Temple, a vendor approached me with stone carvings of a single god in multiple poses. The carvings were attractively packaged in a long, narrow cardboard carrying case (imagine something you would use to store 12 dominoes horizontally), and each carving was sealed in plastic.

He approached. I said no.

He placed the first cardboard sleeve in the hand I was using to gesture "go away." Like a dummy, I held on instead of letting it drop to the ground. He pointed out the name of each pose. "Interesting, but no thanks," I said.

In response, he placed a second sleeve on top of the first and repeated his routine. When I tried to hand them back, he acted blind. Like if I kept holding them I would fall in love and purchase them.

What happened next? You guessed it, a third sleeve.

My driver watched all this with the patience of someone who had seen it all before.

"Here is Ganesh as a warrior," the vendor said, pointing at the first small carving.

"Here is Ganesh as a prince," he said, pointing at the second.

Here is. Here is. Here is. Point. Point. Point.

I grew weary around "here is" number four. Around "here is" number eight, I devised my counter argument. I smiled, waiting for him to finish his litany of the many poses of Ganesh.

He did, finally.

So, taking a play from his playbook. I pointed at the first carving and said "Ganesh?"

Yes, he nodded excitedly. The fat American tourist looks interested, I may eat tonight after all. Praise be Ganesh!

Not so fast, guy. Not so fast. I pointed again to the first carving. Looked him dead in the eye and said "NO!"

I pointed to the second small carving. NO!

NO! NO! NO! Point. Point. Point.

The vendor's face, once beaming at the thought of a sale, fell. His eyes grew hard and cold. If his hands weren't full of carvings he probably would have taken a swing at me. My driver, on the other hand, was shaking as he tried to hold his laughter.

As I walked away I could hear him yell. I think I learned how to curse in Hindi. I really do.

On the way home, Chandrasankar and I laughed about the incident. Not exactly the perfect end to a wonderful day, but it made for a great story, and in the end, isn't that what life is all about?