welcome to chennai, may i have your watch?

the tour of india continued last weekend with a visit to the southeastern city of chennai. originally i was quite fascinated with the idea of chennai especially with its recent crackdown on husband and wife displays of public affection. the hotel we stayed at during lauren's work trip was a brilliantly sleek place called the park. we were greeted upon entry by towering bamboo columns set in broken safety glass, incense and perfume in the room, and a sparkling fitness center. all of these things i had yet to experience in india or any other part of my travels.

with lauren at work all day, i had the chance to watch a little playoff baseball. i was excited mostly because the broadcast showcased the bland and boring commentators i grew up with, rather than the colorful and excited transmissions of even the most insignificant cricket match. it is easy to love a game as slow as cricket when the passion of the game is palatable across a television set thanks to a couple of announcers. i still prefer to watch baseball muted with the radio broadcast on- the mariners play better that way, i'm convinced.

still, watching baseball on tv is no way to see the city. so i went for the tour de foot. after 18 minutes of humid hell, i made it to the beach and wandered down to the water to be swarmed by a baker's dozen of boys ages 6-12. they were quite interested in explaining to me about baby horseshoe crabs and how to catch them in the sand. as i squatted down to meet the ancient chelicerates, i became instantly aware of the bathing suit of choice for young fellas at the beaches of northern tamil nadu: a belt. or at least they called it a belt. what i found out later was this was some sort of religious thread worn all the time by these kids. (i'll have to dig up more information on this) normally this "swimwear" would be obvious anyway, but thanks to the reduced personal space i found myself sequestered in a circle of optionally clothed beachgoers. after a few uneasy minutes of culture shock, i thanked them for sharing their crabs with me and returned to the hotel.

my second run in chennai was intended to be a long effort. i had made plans to run along the water to the largest banyan tree in the world and return near the church where the remains of st. thomas (doubting thomas) are kept.

the parking lot at the beach was kept clear of cars by cricketers of all ages enjoying the weekend sun and as i passed through i was followed by a rickshaw driver named kumar, whom i met the day before on the beach. the second meeting of kumar was an extension of the previous afternoon during which he stalked me nearly the entire 5 kilometers back to the hotel telling me to "talk first, run later". i was humored at first, then furious when he tried to stop me for the third time on a street that required all my concentration as to avoid a surely fatal collision with a work cart driven by cattle. i wasn't all that excited to see him the second day. however, maybe i needed to take his taxi to boost my karma...

along the ocean, buildings could have been lined the street to welcome the sun. unfortunately the tsunami took care of that. destruction still littered the beach and the shacks people live in on the side of the street opposite the beach. the color of the people living here was still charming, as were most everyone in chennai. a woman in her 40's decked out in a sari, escorted me a few steps amongst boisterous laughter in the fish market, turning before the firework thrown at me exploded behind my feet.

i managed to get to the end of the market and decided i needed to get back to the hotel at some point. so i stopped to talk to an elderly gentleman who explained how the community lost 70 people in the tsunami ("70 people...finished" he said). i'm sure he and i could have talked for hourse, but it was only then did i meet inarguably the worst pickpockets in all of india.

a pack of boys, probably late teens, approached me allowing the older gentleman to quietly exit. they inquired as to where i was from and what i was doing in chennai. then one aggressive fellow named charles extended his hand to shake mine. i thought this was a hospitable gesture and returned the greeting only to have him continue to grasp my wrist with a silver band lauren had given me upon my arrival in hyderabad. i shook loose of the grip a number of times and really gave them the benefit of the doubt until one guy inquired as to if i would trade him my running singlet for his grubby polo shirt. citing an obvious size difference and that my shirt was a gift, i thought it might be time to leave. charles continued to shake my wrist and band, ignoring my hand. this didn't seem too odd because indian men hold hands and touch each other all the time and i feel this is an endearing gesture. however, as he pulled at the silver band, i yanked my hand away. charles, in an attempt to win my watch and band, offered to box me for the items. knowing full well that i didn't want to spend a night in the chennai prison for pounding (or getting pounded by) a 5 foot 2 inch, 97 pound teenager, i warmly declined and turned to go. charles (sensing this was his last chance) grabbed my arm again to say goodbye and gave one more firm tug on the silver band. i calmly weaseled my arm out of his grasp and thanked all the fellas for the cultural awareness program and continued my run back to the white gloved door man at the park hotel.

this shouldn't put a damper on chennai, however. the city was filled with wonderful people anxious to share their town with me. i truly enjoy the runs that take me through the streets where people live and children play. occassionally they let me swing the cricket bat a few times, for which i feel is by far a wonderful diplomatic tool.