David Aaayega !

When my friend and colleague David Ayaga from South Sudan sent me a text message and said that he’s coming to Chennai. I was pleasantly surprised.

He had visited India at least 2 times before, but both those times, he had visited, Delhi, Jaipur and Agra and never travelled this side of the country. So when he said he’s coming ..I wanted to roll out the traditional welcome and showcase our Tamil and Southern region culture, sights and of course the food. 

On that wet November day in Chennai, I found David Ayaga casually attired in his trademark T shirt and shorts waiting for me in the lobby of the Hotel, I had reserved for him. He gave a broad grin that lit up the whole place and hugged me. I never thought I’d meet David in Chennai – far away from the rugged and war ravaged South Sudan. Yet there he was, taking in the city’s sights and sounds nonchalantly. 

Few minutes of chit-chat with him, I could see that he had made himself at home. He said he hailed a Boda -boda   (how the bike taxis in South Sudan are known) through an app and had did a quick tour of the bustling shops and eateries in the vicinity of the hotel. 

One of the first things he shared with me was, “I find many people like me - not like in Delhi”. He had observed that we people here down South have dark complexions compared to our Northern counterparts. He also remarked that in Delhi, he felt choked and had to take medicine to ease his breathing – in these few observations, David summed up a foreigner’s glimpse of India – based on just two cities and few hours after arrival. 

First item on my agenda was to treat him to our traditional South Indian food. We ordered south Indian meals with appalam and sweets. I took pride in explaining to him each item. He found the spread quite different from the roti and aloo parathas he had in Delhi. Of course, he could not relish the sambar or the kara-kuzhambu that was too spicy for him or for that matter also the paal payasam which was too sweet for him. But as a well-mannered guest he never criticised and ate plain rice , tasted some curd and took an occasional bite of the appalam. 

Lunch done, we proceeded to Santhome Basilica. On the way in the taxi, unlike my European friends, he was not too critical of the traffic, as he noted matter of factly that Nairobi and Kampala have similar or worse traffic. 

He pointed out to the number of trees on the road and commented, this city has many trees. I thanked the driver for driving through Guindy – Raj Bhavan, IIT campus ..and the road leading to the Santhome Church – is indeed covered with trees – hmm, something we never associate with Chennai – yet through an alien eye, Chennai shined with its green cover on that day.

David took many photographs in the Church compound and bowed piously and prayed in the chapel and read with interest the history of St. Thomas inscribed on the many tablets inset in the walls. The actual experience of viewing the tomb of St. Thomas was underwhelming, as there was some special mass that was going on and we could only get a glimpse through the glass set on the ground. 

Then we took a drive down the famous Marina beach went through the ‘loop road’ leading from the lighthouse. David was busy clicking photos of the many fish vendors doing brisk business right on the pavements. I showed him the many fishing boats and catamarans lined up on the beach. It was strange to see a modern multi-storied, fish market with newly painted walls and imposing gates and well lit stalls – almost empty, with the fish vendors preferring to sell their catch of the day right on the crowded pavements- with patrons spilling over the road leading to traffic congestions. 

Next stop – Besant Nagar beach or Bessie to our Chennai folks. On a Sunday evening Bessie was as busy as it could get. We strolled through the sands lined up with mouth watering sea food and fried goodies on either side of the road. Though it was tempting to tuck into a Vanjiram or Prawns fry, the thought of poor David’s tummy, kept me in check.  The whole place was throbbing with life with people from all walks enjoying the sea breeze and tasting and checking out the infinite variety of food on offer. And David quietly took in all the sights and sounds. 

We stopped by a corn vendor, who gleefully roasted the fresh corn on a fire and sprinkled it with just a small dash of salt and handed it over on a piece of paper.  We devoured the corn like greedy children. David was seen looking around for a waste bin to throw the husk of the corn. I took it from him hoping to dispose of it mindfully. All I could see around me was that the entire stretch of sand right from the vendor’s stall up to the sea, the place was littered with corn husks and assorted food and other wastes. I went up to the vendor and requested him to dispose the waste in a dust-bin.  He accepted the husks with a bewildered look and said he’ll dispose of it discreetly. I know, he would just chuck it away as soon as we turn our backs, but David will have his peace of mind. 

On our way back, David seemed fascinated by a bow-arrow shooting game stall. We approached the  stall and watched many enthusiastic people shoot the arrows randomly around the big target set few feet away. After some 6 or 7 rounds, the people happily got some small toys or trinkets as gift for their brave efforts. 

Seeing David’s enthusiasm, I decided to let him have a go. David was grinning ear to ear and posed for many photos even before he held the bow firmly in his hand. He was nodding at the instructions from the stall owner as he explained the points system and the prize for hitting the bulls eye. I could sense, David is not listening, but just rearing to shoot. 

Next few minutes, David enthralled the entire crowd with his amazing skill and accuracy. With every pull of the bow, the arrows hit the bulls eye like it was drawn to the target by a magnet. While the crowd was thrilled and cheered, the vendor was not impressed. He murmured something and tired to disqualify some of the hits, but the audience was completely with David and reluctantly he agreed to give David the jackpot prize. David received the large Teddy Bear stuffed toy and held it high above his head with both hands like a Boxing Champion.

Sensing my curiosity and the awe he inspired among the crowd, David casually explained that he used to hunt with bows and arrows back in his village in his teen years. No wonder that for a person who had the skill to strike a fast-moving target,  finding the mark on this stationery wooden target just a few yards away, must have been child’s play. But, the poor salesman would never have guessed David’s secret of unwavering accuracy. 

I asked him, if he is going to take the prized soft toy back home to his children, no he said firmly and held the toy tightly in his hands. He was looking around the beach and before I could realise what he’s doing, he had walked up to a poor woman sitting with her child on a blanket strewn with few coins and rupee notes. He bent down with the toy and handed it over to the girl who looked at him with wide eyes. She reached out and with fear mixed with excitement, grabbed the toy with both her hands. The wonder, the joy and gratitude that radiated around the mother and child at that moment made my eyes moist...

Next day dawned with us hitting the famous East Coast Road (ECR) on to Mahabalipuram or as the younger crowd used to say -Mahabs. The drive was indeed scenic and David took in the sights gleefully. He remarked that there are so many coconut trees and wondered why there’s no coconut trees back home in South Sudan. I made a mental note to find out the reason and quickly added that we could taste tender coconut water once we reach Mahabs. 

First stop was the imposing Seashore Temple. I explained to David that the Seashore Temple and all other monuments in Mahabalipuram are now a designated UNESCO World Heritage site. I further explained that it is a 7th Century temple and showed him the various intricate sculptures adoring the Temple. David was curious about the Bull carvings surrounding the temple – I explained that these bulls are Nandis that are like the gate-keepers or guardians of the deity inside the temple. 

After going around the temple and admiring the architecture, we moved on to the Pancha Rathas or the Five Chariots, though actually they are not chariots but, 5 different temples (perhaps resembling chariots in a row) carved out of the rocks. I explained to David the uniqueness of the sculptures – that they are monolithic or carved entirely out of single granite rocks. I also mentioned, granite is very tough to break. To carve such delicate expressions on this un-weildy rock is indeed a testimony to the craftsmanship of the Pallava artisans. 

While, David was soaking in the rich history and the craftsmanship, it was very distracting and annoying to see many youngsters clambering on to the monuments with scant respect for the tradition.  They were risking their lives and limbs and making a fool of themselves jumping from one rock to another while the primates scrambled for cover on the trees.  More annoying was the sight of security guards blowing hard on their whistles and trying to shoo these urchins away with sticks. An ungainly sight that spoilt the whole ambience. Though David never commented, his baffled look made me realise what must be going through his mind. I maintained a dignified silence. 

Amidst all the drama, David discovered that he had his own admirers. There were a group of saree clad middle aged women who wanted to take pictures with him. He gladly obliged, gleefully smiling all through the experience. They giggled uncontrollably, when they ventured and shook his out stretched hands.  

Moving on to the Butter Ball rock, David marvelled at the sight and wondered how it did not dislocate and roll down the hills all these years. He quickly scampered up over the rugged hill and in no time was posing for a photograph under the big boulder. He called me up and i politely declined saying i have done it several times before. Truth is, I’m not particularly athletic and I’m content to admire these nature’s wonders from a safe distance. 

Having taken in the historic significance of the ancient Pallava kingdom and it’s artistry, it’s time to turn to mundane tasks like lunch. When you are in East Coast Road, you are spoilt for choice.  Small eateries and restaurants dot the entire stretch, some offering freshly cooked sea-food. We stopped at one such popular restaurant. It had a quaint Tamil name, which literally translates into Fishing Hook. The name did hook me in and also the restaurant had rave reviews in Google and was recommended by our driver. So we went inside – it’s decor made of fishing nets dangling from the thatched roof and the side-walls creating the right fishing hamlet ambience. It was disappointing though, that despite the bright sunshine outside, the place was completely dark. We gingerly tip-toed over the steps and entered the main dining area our eyes still straining to adjust to the darkness.  

I decide to check the menu, when David wanted a cold beer. As, it was a typical hot and humid Chennai day, it seemed a sensible choice and I turned to the waiter to order two beers. We were taken aback when the waiter who in his Hindi accent said “alcohol prohibited” and gave us an admonishing look. Chennai is no Bangalore when it comes to availability of liquor, but still at least in these popular tourist spots, it’s something that you’d expect -especially with a foreign guest. 

David was confused why such a nice looking restaurant by the sea side, did not serve beer. I had to mumble some excuse and suggested we order fresh juice instead. The waiter shook his head and said, only Coke and Pepsi is available and fresh juice, he rolled his eyes and shook his head again.  We decided to stick to cold bottled water. We perused the menu and  ordered some seafood and rice.  I informed the waiter that the food should not be too spicy. By now I knew that David did not relish any spicy food. So I repeated the instructions again and made sure the waiter understood. He nodded and mumbled something in Hindi. 

The dishes arrived after a long wait in the sweltering heat. By now, thankfully, they decided to switch on the dim lights hanging from the roof and the pedestal fans in the corners. We could at least see the food that were served and could take a momentary break from wiping sweat streaming down our faces. 

I tried the fried fish first and found it too spicy to my liking and wondered how David would react. He took one bite and gulped down the water. I felt sorry for him. I called the waiter to find out why he had made the dishes spicy inspite of me telling them not to. The waiter who had took the order was not seen, some other young man came and looked quizzically at us. I realised I could not have any meaningful conversation with him with my limited Hindi knowledge. It’s strange that a place with such a delightful Tamil name did not have a single Tamil speaking staff. The young waiter just left the inflated bill on a tray without even waiting for us to finish the food and walked away.  

I looked around and saw by now, the place is full. Young couples cosying up in the dark corners, unmindful of the food or the surroundings. We walked out while i made a mental note, in future to avoid places hyped up on Google reviews. I should have taken him to the time tested Fisherman’s Cove -which i did consider, but wanted to check something new...big mistake. 

As we made our way back to the bustling city, I had some time to reflect on the days we spent together going around the city. 

David hails from one of the world’s poorest country. Still, it is surprising that he could find many “similarities” with us – who are ranked well above South Sudan on many of the poverty and human development indices. Indeed, it is strangely sad, but true that we do have many things in common. For instance, like our South Sudanese counter parts. we could not drink water from the taps, we have cattle roaming freely everywhere in the cities like in the villages in South Sudan. Very much like the battle ravaged roads over there, we had crater laden and puddle filled roads that would need a battle tank to negotiate.  All around us, pollution and garbage choke our life out, garbage carelessly strewn and overflowing on to the streets, sight of mother and children begging on the streets. These would have been familiar sights for David, but he would not have imagined he would encounter them in a ‘developed’ metropolitan city like Chennai. 

While David did enjoy my company, the rich heritage structures and the bustling city life, during the brief tour, I hope those beautiful memories leave a lasting impression on him, rather than the squalor and shabby service he had to invariably encounter.