The travel to Chennai, India was a long one. SF to Norito/Tokyo, and then to Singapore - 18 hours later. A stay overnight in Singapore and then off to Chennai - another four hours of flying.
Arriving to the Chennai airport - and especially after being in the Changi, Singapore airport, which itself is an architectural marvel, you are inclined to say "well, Toto, we ain't in Kansas no more."
Upon my arrival, the smell of Chennai immediately surrounds your senses. You're thrust into a caucophony of odors, and you question, because of disbelief, what on earth is that odor - that mothballs and bleach seem to try and mask, but you sense right away it is not roses and trees. The marble/granite walls and corners are stained a rusty, dirty color, and things just seem a little old. The power goes out on occassion and no one thinks anything of it. I'm greeted by armed guards their 9mm Glocks and 9mm Carbine A-1's. Standard issue. I'm to stand in front of a infared camera that detects whether or not I have a fever which would constitute the potential of an H1N1 virus. I fill out my customs papers amidst a crowded table of Indians - personal space doesn't exist here - there simply isn't enough of it!
I complete my papers and head to the baggage claim. I don't see any other white skinned fellas such as I am. After a bit of confusion, I head outside to hundreds of waiting Indians - peering to find my driver waiting for me. You don't, or can't rent a car in India - and for Westerners, this is quite probably a good thing. Instead, you rent a driver. In this case my hotel stay at the Residency provides a driver from and back to the airport.
The heat and humidity weren't exactly stifling - afterall, it's October which brings upon a cooler 32degree celcius weather pattern along with an occasional rain. But it's hot, and the air is already thick with pollution. So much for blue sky these next few days.
I get in our airconditioned Hindustan Ambassador the standard taxi of India and am told to keep the windows up - the driver simply notes "pollution". Hmm... He is very polite and treats me like royaly although his Indian dialect is difficult for me to understand. My co-worker, whom I spent 3 days with and is a third generation Chennai resident, explains later that there are some 50+ languages in India and many more "scripts" which I'm guessing is the way the languages are written.
Almost as soon as we get on the road, the traffic I was warned about is thoroughly evident, but I sit back and marvel at how everyone gives way to each other. Whether a bicycle, 200cc bike, car, Autorickshaw, or a bus load of 50 people, everyone gives way to each other. It's simply amazing to be a part of.
I am also quickly overwhelmed by the amount of trash all over the place, even before we leave the airport property. Everywhere. Heaps and mounds, dumpsters overflowing and citizens picking through the trash for something they can use, sell, recycle, eat? Dogs and cattle. No cats though.
Entering the hotel was a bit interesting. Wealth, Middle-class and poverty seem to intermingle physically very closely in this area of Chennai, although the different classes are clearly separated from each other and visitors seem to be sheltered from this - unless you are privileged to meander around the city with a local as I was. The smell even in this visually fine hotel was a bit much. Even after 3 days I never got used to it. I'm guessing the extreme heat, humidity, the constant need for airconditioning, and the lack of sound sewer systems, create a moldy, bleachy, mothball smell that when combined is a lot to get used to. I'm not sure being on the 18th floor put me higher than the pollution that seeped into my windows, along with the non-stop honking you hear from the streets and the evening Indian music you hear - which was pretty cool - in preparation for Diwali / Deepavali - the Celebration of Lights. In any event, even my room was a bit difficult to get comfortable in at night - only because of my spoiled, babied senses of the clean coastal California air I have been living in the past 27 years.
There is an unmistakable beauty in India. Mind you, I saw a very small portion of a very large country with amazing jungles, temples, and other sites that would take me a lifetime to experience. The colorful Sari's the women wear, contrast very starkly the earthen tones of the buildings and roads, and the greyish blue sky. The religion and the number of other visual aspects of this city. There is marvel and fascination with a city of 10 million people and a culture considered by the rest of the world to be "developing". 18% of the population is poor or "slum", which is 5% of the total poverty in all of India. 
I was moved by the poverty in so many places and by those who were old and had what appeared to be no place to go except to live on the mat they begged on all day. Children who - exactly as you see in Slumdog Millionaire - roam the streets in numbers, begging for 10 Rupees in exchange for a packet of Q-tips. Caucasions are seen as very wealthy and it became painfully obvious when after giving a 100 Rupee (about $2.00 USD) to a kid who came up to our car, three more came running and would not leave. Eventually two little girls not more than 7 or 9 clung to the side window, working us for the chance of another 100 Rupee for her. We gave her 20 Rupees and she would not leave; obstinant, knowing I was a rich American. Eventually I had to peel her tiny little fingers off the window so we could close it and continue down the road. She hid behind the car for another 15 minutes or so and waited for me to open the window again - to fix Jeevan's mirror. She was there again and at one point stood in front of the car banging on it. Her "trainer/Slumlord" trained her well. Sad, but true. Giving the 100 rupee was the mistake. It showed I didnt' know the value of the currency here and that these kids are - well, if you saw Slumdog millionaire - you'll know what I mean.
Lesson learned, and to think earlier I was going walk down the street and give away the remaining 1600 rupies to poor I found along the street just around the corner from my hotel. Jeevan indicated it was probably good I didn't. I might likely have been overwhelmed from many.
Instead, Jeevan said he would get the money to an orphanage where it would hopefully make its way to benefitting the children there.
In 3 days, I experienced things I would never imagined after my sheltered upbringing in Northeastern Ohio, and what I've experienced living in the Bay area of California. We are so very blessed by any possible comparison.
I'm looking forward to my returning. Malaysia was next, but that's another story.
