French Quiche Meets Indian Massala

On Monday we got a car and driver and rode two hours through the beautiful countryside south of Mamallapuram to Pondicherry (aka Puducherry, nicknamed Pondy.) The French ruled the region for 300 years, but it became part of India over 50 years ago. The layout of the town (including a giant park called Government Place) and much of the architecture are French influenced and many street names are in French.







But the overall feel is predominantly Indian. We drove along the waterfront, stopping for a closer look at the dramatic Gandhi Memorial, before having a French-influenced lunch of quiche, tomato salad with olive oil, and fresh shrimp cocktail in a rooftop restaurant called Le Rendezvous.

The area is home to two famous ashrams, the Sri Aurobindo Ashram downtown (http://www.sriaurobindosociety.org.in/index.htm,) and its offshoot, Auroville (http://www.auroville.org,) a few kilometers north of town. The first was founded by one of India's most renowned freedom fighters and spiritualists, Sri Aurobindo.


Born in 1872, he was one of the leaders of the early movement for the freedom of India from British rule. After a period in prison for sedition, he settled in Pondicherry where the British had no political influence. He subsequently turned to the development and practice of a new spiritual path he called integral yoga.

A woman who was born in 1878 in Paris to Turkish and Egyptian parents founded Auroville. Known as The Mother, she was a devotee and collaborator of Sri Aurobindo’s to whom he entrusted his work when he retired into seclusion in 1926.


In the mid 1960s she started Auroville, a place "where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities." Inaugurated in 1968, Auroville continues to develop and currently has approximately 1,700 members from over 40 countries. The plethora of westerners plying the chaotic bicycle-choked town streets on motorbikes is one of the dominant characteristics of Pondicherry.


At Auroville, after we viewed a 5-minute video we received free tickets to make the one-kilometer walk to the Matrimandir, a large round gold structure where followers meditate. (If we would have requested tickets two days in advance we could have entered the building, but alas we had not.)

We returned to Mammalapuram to spend the night. The next day we went by car to Chenai, and then continued on to Bangalore by train. Even though it was 11:00 at night when we arrived, there was still a lot of traffic. The intersection near the Spar was grid locked and completely chaotic because the traffic signal was not working. “Aren’t there any cops,” I asked the driver naively. “No, Madam,” he responded. “There are no police. It is nighttime.”

Traveling Back in Time

Early last Saturday morning we hopped the Lalbagh Express train at Bangalore City Junction and headed east to Chenai (formerly called Madras.) We had spent a couple of weeks there eight years ago when John was working in Cisco’s Chenai office. This time our destination was Mamallapuram (Mahabalipuram,) a fishing village 60 kilometers to the south.

The car and driver we had arranged to pick us up at the railroad station in Chenai were nowhere to be found when we arrived. We carefully navigated through the folks eating and sleeping on the station’s floor then waited impatiently in the tropical noonday sun. Eventually we made contact and piled into the barely air conned old Ambassador for the ride to Mamallapuram.


Besides the sea, most visitors come to visit the stone carvings created when the region was the capital of the Pallava kings of Kanchipuram. That would make them about 1,400 years old. Because of the influx of international tourists, many of them backpackers, there is one street dedicated to Kashmiri shops, cobblers, western-style restaurants, and tailors creating western garments from sari silks.




We explored the town and rested, but decided to leave the major sight seeing until the next day. We had been unimpressed with the hotel (Sterling Mahabalipuram) that had been touted as a beach resort. The beach was a long way off and the pool we had been promised did exist but had no water in it. At over $100 a night it didn’t seem like much of a bargain. It got worse, however, when we tried the shower and no water came out. We begged them for a bucket of water so we could at least sluice water over us Balinese-style and they weren’t able to comply.




The next day we rolled our bag down the street to a $40 a night hotel, the Mamalla Heritage (http://www.hotelmamallaheritage.com/index.html.) For that price we got a better room, a nice breakfast, a swimming pool filled with clean water, and an accommodating staff. Now we were ready to explore the archaeological sites:
Arjuna's Penance - a giant bas-relief filled with detailed carvings, including a family of elephants and monkeys. (Our guide told us it was the second biggest after Angkor Wat in Cambodia, but that is unsubstantiated.)

An old lighthouse providing views across to the sea.

The most fun attraction, Krishna's Butterball, a giant natural rock perched precariously. On hot afternoons, the kids pour water on the hillside and slide down.

Separate from the rest of the remains and arguably the most dramatic is the Shore Temple, carved from a single piece of stone. Rocks which had been piled around to protect it from a cyclone in the seventies probably kept it from being damaged by the December, 2004, tsunami which affected the entire coastal region.

That night we discovered a fantastic restaurant where we had the regional specialty, tiger prawns. The Moonrakers prepares them with a rich, cooked down for hours mélange of tomatoes, garlic and onions.

Another favorite place in Mamallapuram is a shoe shop owned by Mr. Kumar, a third generation cobbler. I had two lovely pairs of sandals made to order (he drew around both of my feet and archived them in his order book) for under $10. (Professional Cobblers Shoe Shop near Sea Shore Restaurant.)

The next day we continued down the coast to Pondicherry, the subject of the next blog.

Two Visits: A Modern Wellness Center and an Antiquated Post Office

I stood outside of a spanking new medical clinic just a few blocks from our residence hotel and took a photo of the modern exterior. Suddenly, one of the Manipal Cure and Care Center’s marketing executives was at my side inviting me to take a tour of the 3-month-old facility. From the modern reception desk to the pediatric clinic, the place is glistening, modern, and high tech. All of the doctors and technicians are attractive, smiling, and friendly.


And the prices are shockingly inexpensive considering what we are used to in the U.S. The Mother’s Day special, available throughout the month of May, offered 13 tests, including a mammogram, Pap smear, ultrasound, and EKG for $25 US (normal price: $112 US.) Although many other services are available, the center is clearly geared for India’s medical tourism. The facility has strong departments for patients seeking cosmetic surgery, dentistry, and eye care.



A web site I found on medical tourism describes it as a worldwide, multibillion-dollar industry. An intriguing possibility comes from South Africa, specializing in medical safaris. Patients visit the country for a safari, with a stopover for plastic surgery, a nose job and a chance to see lions and elephants.



From the same site: “India is considered the leading country promoting medical tourism-and now it is moving into a new area of ‘medical outsourcing,’ where subcontractors provide services to the overburdened medical care systems in western countries." http://www.indiamedicaltourism.net/medical_tourism_india_medical_tourism/index.html


"Government and private sector studies in India estimate that medical tourism could bring between $1 billion and $2 billion US into the country by 2012. The reports estimate that medical tourism to India is growing by 30 per cent a year. Western patients usually get a package deal that includes flights, transfers, hotels, treatment and often a post-operative vacation.”


A visit to an Indian post office showed the opposite side of the coin. Indian postage stamps still do not have sticky backs so customers have to wipe messy glue from little pots on the back of the stamps with dead ball point pens. There is always a queue and only one or two people doing any work. A supervisor consistently sits a distance from the counter, surveying the entire operation but not lifting a finger to help.


I needed to send some books to the United States and, to her credit, the one person who was actually doing something helped me redo the package so it could be sent book rate. String was needed to make the change. She told me I could get some in the back room, dark and cavernous, with two bored looking postal employees who seemed shocked at my entering their inner sanctum. One of them pointed to a couple of pieces of used string sitting on a counter and my mission was accomplished. Though not easy, I had successfully survived a visit to an Indian post office. The experience was not much different from my first encounter, 22 years ago.

Mango Madness and Other Tasty Treats

Nearly 70% of the mangoes produced in the world come from India, the world's largest producer of that juicy fruit. By some accounts, India has about 1500 varieties of mangos, including 1000 commercial ones. The names that surface most frequently are Langada, Neelam, Chausa, Rajapuri, Bainganpally, Daseri, Mallika, Ritual, Langra, Kesar, Bangarapalli and Lalbaug. But the legendary one seems to be the Alphonso, described in poetic terms by one writer as: “the tubby golden ones (which) arrive in late May.” I am lucky to be in India at this time of year, so I can slurp the nectar of this succulent fruit, the best I have tasted anywhere.


Vegetables are excellent here as well, with a wide variety and an abundant supply. While not as beautiful as they are in other parts of the world, such as Italy, the taste of everything I have eaten has been terrific. I can barely carry home my purchases from a trip to the local market.


It ‘s filled with several types of gourds (bitter, ridge gourd and just plan gourd) cucumbers and pumpkin. Root vegetables include beets, turnips, and carrots. Green peas, green beans, long beans, Brussels sprouts, sweet corn, cabbage, mushrooms, and cauliflower (India is one of the world’s biggest producers) make for a colorful array.


Flavor is enhanced in many Indian recipes with ginger, onions, garlic, shallots, tomatoes, and several types of green and red chilies. The potato is found in many popular dishes as are eggplant (called brinjal) and okra (called lady’s fingers.) Indian cooks use greens that look limp and unrecognizable to us for taste as well as nutrition.


For those on Western salaries, the prices are incredibly reasonable. I am sure it is difficult for many Indians to buy enough rice, lentils and veggies (mainstays of the Indian vegetarian diet) to feed families on what they earn with the current inflation rate of approximately 7%.


But 10 rupees (25 cents) for a kilo of bright red, tree ripened, locally-grown tomatoes is a dream come true for a Slow Food advocate like me. Here are some more images from a recent trip to my local street market.