Since Robby and I had previously started to entertain the tour group with murder mysteries and riddles by the campfire when we stayed at the jungle resort, the tradition continued on the train. Kate, the Canadian, downloaded a riddles app to her iPad and for two hours we guessed the most random stuff out of the most ambiguous clues. Apparently, six of us combined make a smart group because never once did we have to ask for the answer. Occasionally we needed to get clues, but we eventually solved all the riddles. Good bonding time during a long ride.
We arrived I'm Chennai, India's fourth largest city, at 9:30pm. Sanjay gave us the simple instruction of "follow me, don't get separated," before stepping off the train and into madness. I've been to a fair amount of train stations throughout the world, but the Chrnnai train station seemed to have no order to it. Not even organized chaos, just pure craziness. Our train car was at the end of a very long tunnel. We exited and headed towards center mass of the station. A quarter mile later, after passing the scary looking second class train that could double as a horror film set, and while trying to hold our breaths because the tracks were a "free" toilet, we pushed, clawed, maneuvered through hordes of other weary travelers, groups of sleeping people, and pandemonium. Even though half the signs were in English, if I was on my own trying to find a train to take, I'd probably miss it due to running in circles trying to figure out where the right track and train were locationed while trying to avoid groups of Indians that push and pull. Sanjay's warning was a good one and a little hard to follow for the older people in our group. Twice I thought we lost two stragglers, but i'd look back and see Wolf, a tall German, and know he was the path beacon for the slow people.
Since 7.5 hours was not enough time to be sitting on our butts, we hopped in our semi-cramped bus to drive two more hours to the ocean town of Mamallapuram. While driving through Chennai, seeing lights, festivals, and the world's longest beach, Robby and I really didn't want to go to some sleepy little town where Sanjay says most of the people swim or relax. We wanted excitement and sites to visit, not pools. How quickly our minds changed the next morning when we went on a petal biking tour of the local monuments. We started early because even though it's winter, it was 28 degrees celsius with 50% humidity. Makes me wonder how hot summer is and glad I decided to come to India in the winter. The bikes were pieces of crap, "it's made in India," the shop owner told Robby. "I would have never guessed," Robby responded. My third bike was the winner. Even though my knees were in my chest and I had no brakes, my arms reached the handle bars and the chain was on the gears. It was a little like Golddielocks when picking out a bike, "nope, too big. Nope, too small. Ok, semi alright."
We got a small taste of biking through traffic- weaving between morons crossing the street, cows meandering, dogs trailing us, and buses barreling past. Thank god we were in a small town and not a crowded city or we might have been pancakes. There were two occasions that most of us had to stop because challenging a SUV or a dump truck is not smart. Better to wait for it to pass.
In the center of town there's a park that houses four separate archeological sites. There's a giant egg shaped rock that sits precariously at the edge of a rock plateu and can not be moved. In the 6th century, the King tried to move it with the help of seven elephants and it didn't budge. To this day it just chills where it sits. There were a couple temples dedicated to the three main Hindu Gods and their wives. All lavishly carved, telling the stories of their adventures and lives. There is a tall tale in North India about five brothers that all accomplished great feats and are important figures. South India heard about the brothers and although the tales reflect only North India, South India wanted to honor the five brothers, so they built them a bunch of temples.
One of the structures in the park was a five roomed temple with elaborate carvings on the outside, but blankness on the inside. The five rooms represent the brother's bedrooms and there were suppose to be carvings on the inside, but war broke out and nothing was finished. This war, which we had to ask Sanjay when it was and how long it lasted, was the main cause as to why so many of temples in the area have no reliefs inside. The war apparently was lots of little wars that basically lasted until the British came and took over India. Just a mere 1300 years or so.
By far, the best relief that we saw was the world's biggest solid carving and it's from the 6th century. The second is in Ankor Wat. This relief depicts the Destroyer, Shiva, as one of his incarnations (he's been nine different animals and people on Earth and supposedly his 10th incarnation will be his last and is prophethized to be a farmer that will help stop the end of the world) meditating and starving so that he can find enlightenment. For some reason there is a fat cat that is imitating the reincarnation by pretending to meditate because he was starving and saw that people gave offerings to the meditating man and therefore if he "meditates" he'll get offerings. There are a bunch of mice surrounding the cat, so it is assumed that the cat ate the mice, didn't starve, and was a bad Buddhist. Very odd, but awesome story that is etched in stone forever. I wonder what the moral is?
More of the relief tells of the demo-Gods and other Gods coming to the aid of the humans during a war. The sun and the moon Gods stare at each other from opposite sides of the relief; it's divided into two sides - the Earth and Heaven, and each side loosely resembles the side profiles of giant elephants facing each other with all the carvings inside their body's. It's pretty expansive and detailed. It's called, "The Descent of the Gangees". The relief is about 27 meters tall and maybe 50 meters long, but the stone it is carved into stretches from the end of the last carved elephant to another relief over a football field away with two temples occupying the middle area.
Leaving behind the temples, we biked to a 6th century light house and then to see the Five Brothers Rithas - Five individual temples all carved out of one solid rock and designed in five different styles - Chinese, Buddhist, Hindi, Egyptian, and something else. To me, three of them looked the same, but it was impresssive how the architects chiseled away at what must of been a massive rock to make the temples. A small country ride alongside some pastures, with a warm breeze blowing through our hair and only motorbikes to compete with, we ended up at the Seashore Temple. This temple used to be a part of seven temples, but over the years, the ocean reclaimed them. Most of the town's inhabitants didn't even know there were more temples until the 2004 tsunami pulled the water back three miles, revealing the lost art pieces before rushing inwards to kill 10,000 people. Beauty and secrets come with a price.
This remaining temple was also the only place in all of India, that I've seen so far, to be completely devoid of trash. For India, trying to be an up and coming modern day society, no one here has truly figured out the garage system. Litter is everywhere. Children play in it, cows eat it, dogs sleep on it, and humans pee on it. It's gross and dirty and just everywhere. It took a second for my brain to comprehend why the Seashore Temple was different...the grass was green and neatly mowed, a nice rock path lead to the ruin, and the place emanated peace; being perched on an ocean cliff and devoid of all gross trash. A perfect spot for a picnic and maybe a little meditation.
After our temple bike adventure, Sanjay released us into the wild...well to our own recognitance. I was starving and opted to branch out from the group in search of something yummy and non-Indian. There is only so much India food I can eat before my stomach has a hole burned through it from the spices or my taste buds stop deciphering the various favors and everything just mushes into "substance". I saw a sign that said "pizza" and I was sold. While sitting on an adorable second floor porch balcony, I enjoyed "pizza" (Naan with cheese and vegetables), a fresh Greek salad (did I mention veggies?!), and a yummy nutella crepe (dosa with nutella and fruit). It was peaceful, relaxing, breezy, and just nice to sit and know you don't have to rush anywhere.
The part of Mamallapuram that we stayed in made it seem like we were in a sleepy little town next to the beach. Small shops with vibrant dresses, intricate stone carvings, and bejeweled handbags enticed us on our way to sit and admire the India Ocean. Ute and Olivia were already sunbathing when we found them laid out next to the five star hotel staircase. The water was clear, the beach had a mix of cows, trinket sellers, and weird gawkers, but for the most part, it was empty enough to find a bit of serenity. Unfortunately the heat chased Robby and I into some shops for shade and present shopping. The afternoon quickly passed and night arrived with a fancy, 5-star hotel dinner to celebrate Wolf's birthday and to enjoy fresh, local seafood. The perfect ending to a lovely day.
We woke early to drive to the new society of Auroville, near Pondicherry. Auroville is for everyone. There is no religion or deities or thoughts. Auroville welcomes all and teaches its people to find consciousness and apparently the attainable disillusionment of "perfection". Auroville was founded in 1967 by The Mother. She wanted a mini utopia where everyone could live happily with one another without religion or race or sex getting in the way. It took about 45 years to complete her vision of a giant gold ball with a completely white inside showcasing a light that represents the inner bulb of a lotus flower. The outside of the golden ball, which represents the sun, is suppose to be surrounded by 12 gardens that all stand for ideas like patientce, wealth, harmony, etc. The gardens are still being built and need more money from all the private donors to be complete. There was an overview map of the town with the golden globe, Matrimandir (Shire of Mother?) in the center with the gardens and houses spining off from the globe. The globe is slightly off center as the true center is an old Banyan tree - sacred to India. The map looks like a futuristic circuit board sprialing into the shape of the Gold Mean. It's a little weird.
So far 2200 people from tons of different countries currently live in Auroville. It is a place of meditation and serenity. The grounds span 3700 acres and the main portions are closed off to the causual visitor. For a place that accepts everyone and claims to be "free from religion", there certainily are a lot of rules one must follow to belong: no talking in the gardens, you may only enter the golden dome with permission (from whom, I'm not sure as everyone is "equal") and only of you are serious about finding your consciousness, you have to give up all your processions, you need to seriously like meditating, and you are suppose to follow the words of The Mother. I think I smell a cult, but one I want to send my dad to; It's pretty, people get along, you meditate, eat off the land, and live in India.
Escaping "A Wrinkle In Time", we made our way to Pondicherry - the old French city in India that is still home to French ex-pats, French Indians, and South Indians alike. There is a "white" city and a "black" city to this day. Can anyone guess who lives where? We stayed in "black" city and wandered very New Orleans-ish looking streets. There were chai sellers on every street corner, a fruit and flower market crammed into an alcove, motorbikes lining the curbs, and a horde of pedestrians, but there was a distinctly French vibe to the place. We even stopped for lunch in a French cafe and besides there being crossaints (more yummy bread and carbs for me to chow down on), there was blessaded real, true, black coffee.
As Robby puts it, "how can a country that grows and sells coffee make such bad coffee?" How indeed and why must I suffer? If we only came to Pondicherry for that one coffee break I would have been happy, but instead we got to stay and I got to bliss out on strong, dark, black espress for a day and a half. The typical South Indian coffee is flavored water with 3/4ths cup of milk and a pound of sugar mixed into a Dixie cup. North Indian coffee is weak Nescafé.
Sanjay took us on a tour of "white" town and the difference is astounding. Barely any trash, lots of white people (if you see any people at all), clean shops, French decorum, and a kind of emptiness that some might call peace, but I felt it was missing the hussle and bussle of true India. It could have been a cute, small town anywhere. A lot of the buildings were dilapidated and derelict, making me wish I had some models because if anything, "white" town is the coolest place to take artsy photographs.
White town parallels the Beach (because the French decided they wanted the prettier views and had the power to take the land they desired), which we walked along. More hassling trinket sellers and food rickshaws lined the rocky shore, but Indians and French people alike, were out enjoying the soothing sounds of the waves and the fresh ocean air. After a brief tour of the area, Sanjay released us to wander on our own. We all ended up at happy hour. What better way to spend a warm evening then to drink a cold jalapeño whiskey soda and enjoy the loveliness of the water and the quietness of no honking horns?
The peace lasted until dinner. Since we were in French town, we all assumed the French food would be great. I think it might have been, but the service we received at this beautiful garden restaurant ruined the experience. We were all captivated by the star lanterns hanging from the trees and promises of fresh fish. Instead, the food was adequate, but the service was atrocious and made it so the whole meal was ruined. We were ignored for a good 30 minutes upon sitting and then Ute just ordered ice cream and lemon pie. After the six of us had received and mostly demolished our meals, Ute still hadn't received her food. Everyone asked at least five different waiters to bring Ute her food. We watched as they gave us the India head shake which can mean, "yes, coming right up," or "sure, I'll shake my head because it looks like I'm agreeing but I really don't know what you're saying." Apparently the head shakes were the latter.
1.5 hours after sitting down, Ute was hungry, tired, and a little pissed off. She basically told them she just wanted the bill, no food anymore, and was ready to leave. This was interpreted as, "I'll go grab your dessert". The pie arrived with the wrong type of ice cream and the waiter explaining that it would have come earlier, but they accidentally gave her order to someone else. Interesting. Ute said the pie wasn't too bad, but could have been defrosted longer - straight from the freezer (maybe that's why it took so long to arrive), but she couldn't really enjoy it since she was so angry. The best part was when they brought the bill, they charged Ute for the more expensive lemon pancake and added a scoop of ice cream. So in total, she waited 1.5 hours for crappy, half-frozen lemon pie with the wrong flavor ice cream and was double charged. Everyone decided to pay food our bills and dine and ditch on Ute's food. She had said she didn't want it and they brought it instead. Then she only ate two bites and was pissed. So, French places in India are Indian slow with French rudeness - at least that's my impression.
On that note, I'll end this very long rant so you all can have a breather.
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