Based on all of the experiences I have had living in Chennai, I’m making the conclusion that my own understanding of the city looks like one straight line, endlessly expanding in two ways, and I am stuck in the middle looking in both directions, but seeing nothing.
Our hotel is situated on a literal line, along a street called East Coast Road, which makes this feeling even more visceral. On this stretch of asphalt you can find many amenities in the various grocery stores and pharmacies, but don’t be surprised if they don’t have Pepto Bismol.
This seems like a pretty bleak impression, so I’m going to explain:
The line metaphor comes from a lack of context. Throughout the entire trip, we were guided around temples, art museums, villages, and many more places, but weren’t given adequate information to make sense of the sites. Unlike Delhi, where each and every place we visited on a class field trip became an in depth image of history and culture, I felt that many of the places in Chennai were left to their own flat, subjective existence. There is endless information to be had, but it wasn’t tangible, and left me feeling like I was gazing into an abyss where the entire context was there, but I didn’t have the guidance to acquire it. During our lectures, our speakers offered insight into their fields of work and study, but we listened to them in a brightly lit dining room for often two and half to three hours at a time. Their words were often lost in my restless mind.
However, aside from the academic part of the city, which is where a lot of my linear discontentment lies, Chennai is full of beautiful art, something I feel we did not get to experience fully in Delhi. Throughout our stay, we have been to a carnatic music concert, where one of our own guest lecturers graced us with a hypnotic voice backed by the droning sounds of two tanpuras, hollow percussions, and the melting auditory beauty of a violin. We were able to experience the bodily spirituality and story telling of Bharatanatyam dance through the eagerness and patience of a wonderful couple. One of our assignments was to see a Tamil film and be introduced to the huge cinematic influence on the city. I visited Cholamandal, one of the most renowned artists’ villages in perhaps the entire world. When we managed to escape the sometimes-claustrophobic atmosphere of the hotel that made us all feel a little stuck, we could convene at a juice stand next door and slurp down delicious butterfruit (the Indian avocado) and custard apple smoothies (there were many more options, but that was my ab
solute favorite). Tiny craft bazaars and shrines were nestled among neighborhood streets, filling the air with sound and color. And above all there was the ocean, whose haunting beauty and power always aided in giving peace of mind.
Through I may not have understood Chennai in an academic context, I found that I learned best through experiencing the city first-hand. The Southern coastal city certainly had a lot to give; it w
as just a matter of taking the time to find the intricacies.
