Amit Sinha's Travelog

One of the many cliches, oft repeated to the point of annoyance, is “absence makes a heart grow fonder”. Now that I am back, after a six month separation, while unfortunately there’s no heart waiting for me to grow fonder of, I have realized that New York is a city I love, and its attraction has only grown as I traversed the globe.

I’ve had no trouble re-adjusting to life in the big city. In fact, I think I would be in trouble if I were to live anywhere else. I would probably shoot myself in a fit of depression if I had returned from this long break to suburbia (no offense to any of my readers who hail from this construct of the modern urban planner).

There really is something about New York. I got in early morning on Monday, and feeling a little low, I decided to head out for a run. As I jogged outside, amidst the old buildings, basking in the mid-morning sun, watching people walking about, eating at cafes. seeing the various eclectic stores that would survive only in a city like New York, my spirits started rising. Its really one of those few places where you can see people, shops, and restaurants from across the world in the course of a 3 mile run.
Sorority sisters from connecticut and their ohmigods and totallys
yelled over fancy pink cellphones with flashing lights, tall burly
jamaicans and their dreadlocks, an old asian couple walking slowly hand-in-hand right past a muslim man with his traditional skullcap speaking arabic on his cell phone right beside a couple of eastern european movers having an argument over something. Gay couples walking comfortably, with neither them nor the rest of the pedestrians feeling that anything’s different. A sign for an upcoming “dog gym” that caters especially to “smaller breeds” jostles for attention with one announcing the latest Will Farrell offering. Both are pasted on the temporary wall of some shop undergoing renovation. And of course, I’ll have to admit, being summer, the sight of lovely women running and walking in the latest fashions will uplift the spirits of even the most depressed

Last month, around the time of the terror alert in Heathrow, when terrorism showed its head again, putting the world in a fit of paranoia laced with fear, I was in Chennai, India. My mother, sitting next to me and watching the story unravel in the media frenzy that followed the events, asked me, after one particularly zealous reporter tried to paint a picture of impending doom for anyone remotely associated with New York or the United States of America, why through all this travel I hadn’t found an alternate job in London, or Australia or even better, Mumbai or Chennai. Her fear was understandable, as was that of most of the world, whose source of information are ratings-hungry television channels. While one reason why I didn’t find anything was that I hadn’t really looked (my resume has not been updated since 2003), the second, and more important reason was that I hadn’t yet found a reason to leave New York. I am sure I could enjoy a life just as much in London, or Melbourne or Mumbai, and at the very least get something larger than the shoebox I call my apartment, as well as probably find something with a better quality of life, it would not be the same as New York.

I like New York because it has, in one small island, all the things that I look for when I travel around the world. I was heading to work the other morning, on the Number 4 train, and I realized what it was about the city that appealed to me. In that one subway car, there were a couple of monkeys in suits (including me), a girl in gothic chic, a couple of school children in uniform, a man with crooked teeth and torn clothes, a lady choosing to read out loud passages from the bible, amongst an assortment of people from various walks of life, and various races. The difference though, was that no one gave the other person a second glance- there was no feeling of being scrutinized because of what you wear, or where you come from or how you look- you can be anybody you want to be. Your personal life, in this city of 8 million people, is only yours. I am yet to see that anywhere else in the world.

For the past week or so, I’ve been in Chennai, the city where I grew up. It=
s been a mix of spending time with family and friends, relaxing, as well as=
exploring. For the first time in six years I’m actually living life in Che=
nnai, instead of making a hurried visit to the city.

Chennai, like almost anything in India is full of contrasts, and just one d=
ay here brings that out. Chennai traffic is a mess, with roads woefully ina=
dequate for the hundreds of new Hondas, Toyotas and Chevys that hit the cit=
y streets, fueled by the IT boom. The municpial corporation, never one for =
ingenuity and efficiency, a center of either lethargy or incompetance, cann=
ot be relied on to provide proper street lighting, clean roads, and other b=
asic amenities that would be expected in one of the fastest growing cities =
in the world, where residential real estate costs between $100-$200 a sq. f=
t. The traffic police continue to be incompetent as well as corrupt. The mu=
ch awaited Mass Transit System is about twenty years behind schedule. As a =
result of all these macro issues, and the fact that I don’t have an Indian =
Drivers license, and my mother doesn’t have a driver, drove me into borrowi=
ng our watchman’s (Security Guard for the American readers) bicyle to make =
my way around the city.

This afternoon, I headed out on to the roads on a bicyle whose brakes have =
a mind of their own, which most of the time resides in a different world, a=
nd refuses to cooperate, despite all my advances. This is especially discon=
certing when you have a bus rushing past you on the right, a mass of people=
at the bus stop rushing towards the bus from the left, and two motorbikes =
behind you that have a deathwish. Spending even a few minutes on the street=
s in India will provide you with an answer to why Hindus have many gods. Wi=
th so much chaos on the roads, you need several gods working full time to e=
nsure a safe journey. Anyway, thanks to the multiple prayers to multiple go=
ds that my mother performs each morning and evening, I made my way safely t=
hrough the chaotic main roads of Adyar and towards Taramani, which is the n=
ew town built in the past two years on what was essentially barren land. As=
soon as you cross a recently constructed bridge, its as if you have moved =
to a different country. Gone are the crowds, the dirt, the drime, the chaos=
.. Instead, if you make your way past the security guard, you are in a compl=
ex that could be anywhere in the world. The Ascendas IT Park is a glass and=
concrete structure that houses centers for several of Indian Infotech comp=
anies. When you walk through a lobby that’s more spacious and modern than m=
ost buildings in New York, you see a high-tech card access system standing =
between you and an elevator bank that would take you to offshoring offices =
where someone is writing bank software for Citibank, or someone is taking f=
lak from a lady in Ohio who found an error in her Amex card. In the lobby, =
you have a wonderful food court, and a gym whose membership is costing me m=
ore than my New York Health and Racquet Club fees! The shops in the complex=
cater completely to yuppiedom, with two coffee shops, a computer store, a =
“Dollar Store”, fancy gift store, and a couple of mobile phone shops.=20

Some people point to places like this and talk about the phenomenal change =
engulfing India and taking it into the ranks of the developed world. Sure, =
places like this are extremely comfortable, and feel very western, and have=
not only provided employment to hundreds, but also provided them with an o=
utlet to spend their money and enjoy life as well. And for a yuppieish pers=
on like me, having a western-style gym, and a starbucks-type coffee shop, p=
rovide me with some of my creature comforts in a place I would least expect=
to fnd them. Yet, it take me less than two minutes on my watchman’s ricket=
y bicycle without brakes, to go from this Disneyland into a muddy ditch tha=
t the corporation decided to leave unattended on a busy road, letting it fi=
ll up with rainwater. Another three minutes on the same cycle, after gettin=
g my face colored black by a polluting government bus, and nearly getting r=
un over by another, I find myself in front of a brand new residential apart=
ment building, with high walls, landscaped gardens, the works, which has, j=
ust outside it, a stinking garbage can that’s empty, but there’s garbage ly=
ing all around it. Yes, India is making its way to being developed, but eve=
n in its most tony regions, the basic tenets of development, namely cleanli=
ness and respect, seem like goals that are just not on the agenda. A comple=
x that provides everything within its compound, protecting itself from the =
world through high walls is easy, but providing those same standards outsid=
e those four walls is what’s required.

I have a few minutes to kill at the Madurai airport, and looking
around me, its like a mini replica of San Jose Airport, as it seems
that this place caters only to the NRI community, with the occasional
business traveler. It does make sense, as with the excellent bus
connections, I find it hard to see why someone would take the flight
to Madurai.

I look around me and there are little brats running around with thick
american accents, followed by parents in jeans and salwars and bad
american accents… This could be San jose International Airport,
minus the Spanish!

Transport has been a fascinating experience in the past few weeks
that I have been here in Madurai. Buses are by far the most popular
forms of public transport, available in all shapes, sizes and forms.
From the old rickety ones that serve the suburban and city regions,
to the short-haul buses to places like nearby Karaikudi which have
TVs and show Tamil movie DVDs, with English subtitles!!! The long-
haul buses though, are by far the most interesting. They are full
sleepers, i.e., they have no seats, and instead have comfortable
sleeping berths, lower and upper, much like a train. While the single
ones are comfortable, the doubles can be a little intimidating, as a
single traveler, as you will be spending the night in the same bed
with a stranger! But such issues do not seem to affect the average
traveler, who is most accommodating of the situation.

A note on the airport before I sign off though- It serves only about
eight to ten flights a day, but is extremely clean and neat, with
professional staff and facilities, and what’s more, free Wi-fi, which
scores mega points in my book!

More about my experiences in Madurai when I return to Chennai and get
some time to have my virtual life catch up with reality.

As most of you know, I am in Madurai in South India, looking into some microfinance activities. When I go into the villages to meet with the local women and interview them, I am normally accompanied by one of the English-speaking managers. Despite having grown up in Tamil Nadu, my Tamil is embarrasingly mediocre, and I need to rersort to having someone translate the more complex questions for me.

However this morning, I was out on my own, along with one of the local project officers, who spoke mainly Tamil and a smattering of English. However, as it turned out, English was not required, because what was needed was someone who could understand what I was trying to say, and then put it across in the right words… it worked like a charm, and I think I got more out of the day than most other days. It just goes to show that langugae barrier is really not a barrier, if the person is smart enough to understand and interpret.

A dingy, non-air-conditioned cubbyhole in the small South Indian town of Madurai may notbe the first place that comes to mind for cheap broadband, but at Rs. 20/hr, or less than fifty cents an hour, you can sit on an old computer and access the net at blazing fast speeds.

I was walking around trying to find a place to eat and happened to see the faded sign announcing fast internet, and decided to check it out.

I’m trying not to be attached to the internet, but its hard with it being everywhere- you just can’t escape it.