India Online Journal, November 2001
Author: Jennifer Kumar
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I arrived in Chennai at 12:30 am. India always makes me emotional for reasons I can't explain. On my first trip in Dec. 1998, I was on route from Chennai to Bombay. Upon leaving my friend's house to the airport, I started crying so hard and I could not explain why. The only other time this happened to me was in a Catholic Church in 1997. So, I really don't know what happened to me, those times or even on this day. As I looked down out of the plane from the third seat from the window and saw the lights of Chennai, I almost cried, but I stopped looking. But, when I got off the plane and walked into 'familiar territory' I had a few tears. It is something about India.
Well, upon going through immigration, there was no problem, but in getting my luggage, one porter (I call Thambi in Tamil which means 'little brother' but only in second person- I won't call to his face.) got my bag and then asked for money. It is easy to get tricked cause these thambis are all the same. They think all foreigners are dumb and will give money, especially dollars. I just firmly said I have change and if you don't want it, too bad. So he started telling me about his wife and three kids. See, that is not my problem. I may sound rude but you have to be stern with them because if you take one dollar (about 47 rupees) they will ask for more and keep asking. And usually in India people only give 5 rupees at most, 2 is the norm. But they will surely think bad if you give less, cause we are foreigners, but not so if you don't give at all. I know it sounds weird, but it is true.
I was lucky they opened up a new foreign exchange outside the door so that thambi wouldn't see me exchange and come running for money (they do!). But this foreign exchange guy is another sad thambi. He noted that the exchange rate was 47.8, but the 'legal' rate at that moment it was 48.6, so I guess he kept the rest (Rs 250 or about US $5) as commission. Anyhow the total was RS 11,700. So, I started counting the money in front of him, only then he handed me RS 1000 leftover, or about US $20. That thambi would have ripped me off if I had not stood there and counted. Remember this tip anywhere you go.
So, my friend was waiting for me and we walked out to the rented taxi for the ride home. The thing is all taxis look alike, so you have to look for the license plate number.
We drove home at 1:30 am. It is something to enter India at the dead of night. It looks like a ghost town, somewhat like a dream, since daytime it is so lively.
Amma (friend's mother) (Amma is Mother in Tamil) was waiting up and served some Boost (hot chocolate milk) and we talked about one hour then all went to bed, except me, since I had jet lag.
Today I stayed inside resting and studying for my exams and rested from jet lag.
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