India – Chennai, Hyderabad and Kolkata

Braving the heat while traveling through the center of India.

Back in India! Now after my initial report on India last February, I know many of you came away with the opinion that I disliked it in some way. Many asked why on earth I was going back. Though my comments were not uniformly positive, I didn’t mean to suggest that India was a dud. Far from it – much as the slogan says, it is truly incredible, with indelible sights and a rich culture.

But I think I also conveyed my surprise and yes, disappointment, about certain aspects of India. I had a perhaps slightly different vision of what India would be like, and what my reaction to it would be. We’ve all heard the stories of the smells, the heat, the people. I thought I’d revel in that chaos, see emerging cities in their purest state and find some resonance in the experience. As with many things in India, it’s not that simple.

India turned out to be something very different than the postcard version, and I was excited to be able to interact with it again, to try and better understand it. On the plus side are its cuisines, the resiliency and sacrifice of its people and the constant energy that literally throbs in the streets. But returning to India also helped me identify those things that I found most trying, the ones that are most “foreign” to my experience and interests. Namely, the slavish adherence to its dense and bewildering bureaucracy, the unceasing cacophony of sound that assaults you at every moment, the dense crush and tactility of people in public spaces, and sadly, the filth.

Still, it remains a significant place in the world, one that merits interaction and better understanding, and I will cherish many of my experiences there. Admittedly, I planned this return trip as a five-star hotel experience, and was decidedly not on the budget trail. Given the weather, you’ll understand why.

I should also mention that the photographs in this part of the trip were rather disappointing. My first trip to India included many archaeological sites and world heritage sites, so pictures were easy to come by. Sadly, bureaucracy, and avowed fear of terrorism, are such that picture taking is often prohibited — of buildings, inside buildings, inside churches, outside churches, of bridges. It’s an annoying, persistent issue – one with little public guidance and almost no recourse, and one that I vociferously, though futilely, railed against on many occasions.

My initial return was to Chennai, which is a rather tidy place. The city is industrious and energetic, as well as incredibly hot and humid. And I found the English to be better as well, though spoken at an explosive, unrelenting speed that possibly reflects the Tamil spoken there.

It has a series of colonial buildings, including some striking churches, though many sites are under renovation, blocked by aluminum siding, or not allowed to be photographed because they are “heritage buildings”. And much like other places in India, many are simply crumbling from decay, poor maintenance and shoddy reconstruction. But it is a striking place, with a long, sandy beach and a great spirit.

Luckily, some business colleagues are also in Chennai, so I was able to experience aspects of the city and its people that I have not elsewhere. I had three “big boy” dinners in the city, indulging in high-end restaurants that reminded me of being in Chicago. I also got a chance to discuss Indian culture, cuisine and cricket! (and yes, I think I have finally understood the basics of cricket, its strategy and scoring — well, at least the Twenty20 version).

Now, given my extensive travel, I admittedly have a pretty healthy confidence in my ability to deal with whatever happens. I also feel I’ve seen most scams, unexpected expenses, etc. Well, Chennai walloped me in one significant way. There is a state tax on hotels that is 12.5%. No problem, I mean, taxes in the States are pretty high as well. But the Chennai tax is different — it applies to the rack rate! Not only that, but it applies to the room you occupy — meaning that if you get an upgrade, as I did, then u pay the tax on the upgraded room. Thankfully, the hotel was undergoing renovations, so no suites were available. As it is, taxes were over $40/nt – and this when I was on a special cash and points rate of only $45/nt!

Hyderabad was next – it is a glorious city filled with contradictions. The old city reflects the Moghul history, making it feel much like a gigantic Arab bazaar. The new city is a series of IT towers, serving as the India headquarters for Microsoft and Google, and many others.

It’s most recognizable structure is the Charminar, the four-minareted building in the middle of the old city. It is steps from the city’s largest mosque and in the middle of a raucous traffic circle.

Nearby is also the home of the Nizams that ruled this area for centuries, the Chowmahallah Palace. It is not an overly grand or ostentatious area, but is a tranquil, welcome respite from the chaos of the city. Its main building, where the nizams were crowned, is spectacular.

The Hyderabadi dynasty had significant Persian and Central Asian roots, and you can see that at the site of their royal tombs. There are several buildings here, all with stunning domes and arcades. In past times, they would have been covered in colored tiles. It reminded me very much of similar buildings I had the chance to see in Uzbekistan a while back.

Then it was on to Kolkata. This city packs a punch. Long considered the cultural capital of India, and the British Raj’s political capital til the early 20th century, Kolkata is a fascinating place. Even more than Mumbai, it feels like a city that is lived in its streets. Everything is on display – sleeping, eating, bathing.

Now I know I complained about the heat in Chennai and the heat in Hyderabad. Both were distinctly uncomfortable. But Kolkata was a whole other kind of hot. 100 degree-temps, dense, almost tactile humidity resulted in a heat index reading of 157 degrees! (65.4 Celsius for the rest of you). I was leaving the hotel a bit before noon and I mentioned to the front desk manager that I was going to the museum — she looked at me skeptically and said, “in the midday heat?” I should have listened to her. It was like Houston in July, only warmer, wetter and with a bewildering cacophony of smells. The next day, it “cooled” to 156 – LOL.

To escape the worst of the heat on Day 2, I snuck into St. John’s. As I was leaving, I struck up a conversation with a man who turned out to be the organist there. So in the midday heat, he turned on the fan and played the organ for me. I was alone in this impressive church, listening to heavenly music. It reminded me that I haven’t heard classical music played live for many months — it is definitely time for me to make my way to Europe for an extra dose!

I mentioned several months ago that Mumbai was also very intense. And admittedly, I saw Mumbai in what they consider winter, so maybe some of its energy was dampened. But I still think Kolkata is the wildest city I’ve ever experienced. I didn’t know where to look, from human rickshaws to bustling markets to numerous monuments to a broad river.

And you can only imagine what this was like. This is the butchering area in the New Market. With the light, the crumbling columns and the slatted windows, it felt like going back in time and seeing (and smelling) a 19th century operation.

Kolkata’s crowning colonial glory is the Victoria Memorial. Had the capital been moved just a few years before, this building may well have been put in Delhi instead. It anchors the maidan and is made of the marble similar to that used for the Taj Mahal. Unfortunately, no pictures inside, so the exterior will have to do.

My departure was funny mainly because it reaffirmed how crazy hot it was in Kolkata. I assume we’ve all seen some white clouds of condensation when on an airplane that has the a/c on in a very hot and humid and environment. The chilled area cools and creates small spirals of clouds as it exits the vents. I’ve even seen it emit torrents of spray, but until Kolkata, I’d never been in a “white out” inside a plane. I felt as if we were doing a fire safety drill. That’s the row in front of me, with the window shades open.