dark clouds swept over us on our hotel rooftop. the rain comes in 10-minute spurts. this is the finale of tamil nadu's monsoon.
after we were holding our hard-earned train tickets to chennai, we learned of a full force cyclone heading for the city the day we were leaving for it. this is all we learned and that the city was already half-flooded with 75,000 people evacuated.
with this on our minds, we took a deep breath and boarded our night train. in the morning, it looked like we were sailing through expansive lakes of flooded rice paddies. against the dark green could be seen rainbow clusters of plastic-bag and poncho-clad farmers planting the new muddy fields.
when we arrived the air was heavy and sticky; it turned our rupee-notes limp like soft fabric. life seemed to go on as usual here despite streets that became small lakes and outlying settlements with black water up to their foundations.
last night we walked three miles to don pepe's texmex restaurant. we were well rewarded for our endeavors: imported cans of pickled jalapeno peppers, sweet fresh salsa, and homemade indian-style sour cream.
we can no longer use our hindi or catch bits of what people are saying about us, and english doesn't go as far here. we don't even know 'hello' in tamil.
HIJRAS: not men, nor women. they seem to be most encountered in and around trains, at least in our experience. when you hear the demanding clapping coming down the aisle of your compartment, you better get ready. we have been told that they extort more money than any beggar and will happily make a scene if you do not comply. we offered one a banana. she gave it back.