Day 13
We remembered passing some temple looking stuff on the way into town and decided to get up really early to get the sunrise.
The Hayward's 5000 has turned out to be a poor choice before bed. It makes you feel like you drank a 40 of Olde English. Since OE is one of my brands I work on for Miller, I'd know just how unpleasant that is. This was similar.
Getting up at 5am to drive a rickshaw out to remote India isn't a hangover cure, but it had to do.
We found an large archway leading to a temple city of Padarupalle, just off the highway. The archway was really ornate with golded statues on it. The best is that it was in a remote location with limited gawker potential.
Lights and cameras could draw a crowd on a mountain top. All you have to do is start to set up and people crawl out from under rocks, I swear. You start to feel like what it must be like to be a celebrity. We virtually are anywhere we go here. People crowd around and want to shake you hand and ask you questions. I feel like Brad Pitt. At least people aren't quoting clips from one of my movies to me.
We struggled to figure out just the right set up for the archway and ended up with a panaramic shot of the rickshaw and Michael under one side. The set up took too much time and the new morning golden orb came up and behind a smog bank before we could even get one shot off. Dang.
The clouds and sky were still nice so me managed to get something. Not as nice as the sunrise itself, but dawn nonetheless.
From Nellore we traveled north to Ongale. We have a good system down were we shoot in the morning or afternoon coupled with 3-4 hours of driving. At this clip we'll have loads of stuff photographed and still be making the 150km per day that each major city seems to be spaced apart.
We noticed on the map that there might be a lighthouse near the coast just off the highway. I a suitable looking dirt road we made a turn and headed towards the water. The "road" took us right through a small village and the looks we got were stunning. Stunned might be a better term.
After a kilometer of dirt road our way suddenly turned to asphalt. There was an abanodoned looking cemetary and some cows milling about. We eventually came upon an old Baptist Missionary outpost and then the road turned back to red dirt. The high desert dirt here looks like the prairie west of Austin, Texas.
Our dirt road took us over a canal and into another town. The folks here hadn't seen the likes of us in quite a while. They were stopping in their tracks to watch us past.
We made it to the light house only to discover the compound was locked a big sign said No Photos. We took the hint and back-tracked through the village.
Michael thought it might be nice to get a remote shot there so we stopped and set up shop in front of a makeshift restaurant. There was a thatched roofed porch with a pay phone nearby that looked good and also a hand illustrated sign in front of the restaurant. The text was in Telugu but the picture was of a man getting his leg chewed by a stray dog. We think it was to discourage the locals from throwing scraps to the mutts.
The whole town came out to see what was up. Well the men that is. And the 60 odd children. We ended up giving away some polaroids and making folks happy. It made the shoot really easy. The kids really got into it, hamming it up for the camera. Michael was a natural with getting them all to participate. In the end we made some good friends and I gave a ride to 20 or so of the local urchins hanging from my rickshaw.
The local big-whig tried to invite us to his home for some homemade whiskey. Fearing blindness or getting a case of the "jake-walk" blues (google it), we gracefully promised on our next time through town.
It made for a good afternoon.
From there we took to Ongale as fast as we could.
Ongale is a crowded city and we struggled as usual to find a place. We finally settled on a Hotel Mourya. I mean settled in all forms of the word. Hotel Mourya was the best of the worst. We'd stayed in dirtier.
We usually enter the room quickly size it up, all saying, "this is not so bad." After killing all the things that are moving in various corners, we clean up and get some dinner. Tonight was no exception.
Everyone was dead from the early morning shoot, so they crashed.
I went out for another late night walk as I like to do. I didn't bring my camera this time for some reason. I'm still regretting it.
The night time is the best time for walking around. There aren't many street lights to speak of and people can't really see you. No mobbing happens as a result. The streets are lit from the open store fronts and headlights from the thousands of vehicles swarming around. You can get right up and close to all the action, petting cows, dodging dogs and hopping over burning trash.
There is always 10 feet of dusting dirt, debry and sleeping animals between the asphalt of the road and the steps over the sewage into stores. Most roads are covered with people with carts selling stuff too. Bikes will be piled with bananas, mangoes, coconuts that they will be chopping the tops off with machetes so you can drink the milk. Guys with carts will have a little fire going on a metal plate and will be roasting corn cobs directly on the embers. This is corn and banana country. People will be crowded around carts cooking all sorts of interesting smelling stuff. Rotis, vadas, naans, chappatis all being made fresh. Nuts being roasted with spices and served hot in a newspaper cone. Men will be squating on the ground or sitting on make shift benches eating rice masala off banana leaves.
The little stores are 3-sided openings, all not much more then 8 feet wide with a small counter streetside. At night they roll down metal grates and over the front. There are little convenience like stores selling basics, matches, cigarettes and drinks. There are also every kind of store imaginable from pharmacies, tire repair shops, mechanics, butchers, cloth, plastic pails, rice or religious stores.
Every so often you come across a store that looks like it landed right there from a mall. Glass front, gleeming lights, wide front full of electronics. It's disconcerting to see these shops next to everything else. It especially weird to go into a clean, modern store having to step over rubble, burning trash and navigate sleeping bulls and chittering monkeys.
Showing posts with label nellore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nellore. Show all posts
Monday, January 8, 2007
Day 11-12: Chennai and All It's Glory
Day 11:
We set out early to walk around and scout out shooting something around town. Maybe something at the local music and dance school that on our map appeared to be nearby.
Our cabbie from the night before seemingly slept in his cab and was waiting for us. We told him that we were going to walk around and wouldn't be needing him. He looked liked we had slapped his grandmother.
We walked and walked and eventually got a cab to take us to the school. It was farther then we'd thought and we couldn't figure out which street was which since there are no signs anywhere.
The school indeed was there and was wrapping up a recital of traditional song and dance. They let us go inside and watch the end of the performance.
It was the traditional stuff you've seen on TV and would expect to see here. The musicians/singers were Ph.D's in traditional music so we got to see really the finest examples of the regions music.
We had a great idea to get some dance students on a stage showing Michael some moves, but with some asking around found out that it would be impossible.
After leaving, we caught a cab to go back to the hotel. The cabbie didn't speak English and was looking confused. Another cabbie pulled up and his eyes went wide when he saw us. He threw the passengers out of his cab, passing them off to the cabbie that didn't speak English. He wanted to be our cab driver and have the chance to take our Rupees.
The whole way back to the hotel he told us how he spoke good English (he didn't) and how after returning to our hotel, he'd wait for us, all night if need be, to take us to all the tourist places. He promised we'd go to the museums and even the beach.
We told him that we didn't want a cabbie and that we had our own rickshaws. This sounded like a bold-faced lie to him and he insisted he would be our cabbie as long as we were in town.
We firmly told him "no" an asked what it would cost to go to our hotel. He replied, "as you like" and said that after driving us around for 2 days we could decide what to pay him.
We again firmly said no, that we were going to get our cameras and rickshaws and wouldn't be needing a driver. We just wanted the price to our hotel.
Again he tried the, "as you like" trick and we told him to stop and threatened to leap from the moving vehicle.
Dejectedly he said 60 Rs. but insisted that he was a good driver and wanted to be our driver.
Luckily he let us out around the corner from our hotel and we avoided what would have certainly been an all-out cabbie fight to be our guy. People desperately want your money in this town.
We walked up to the hotel our cabbie friend walked over looking hurt that he'd waited all morning for us and we weren't taking his cab. We explained that we had our own rickshaws that he'd seen the night before and he suggested that we'd need a guide and he'd tag along for a couple of days. We again said no, we were fine without him.
We loaded our gear and got ready to head out to the local Snake Park to see what action was there. The area also had numerous other sites including the famous MGR movie studio where many of India's films are shot.
Our cabbie was there again suggesting that he could be our guide. I turned tables on him and told him that I had driven over a 1000 kilometers on my own. Was he suggestiong I wasn't a good driver? This left him speechless. The small twist in logic and his poor English left him unable to navigate a way out.
We were official through with him.
Getting to snake park was difficult. Chennai's roads are the worst anywhere. The traffic is unlike anything you can imagine. I don't care how bad the roads are that you've seen somewhere else - Chennai is worse. Times 2.
The Snake Park was sad. Like a north Florida snake sideshow on it's last leg. We nearly couldn't find anything to shoot.
It just so happens that the cobras are brought out into a small enclosure surrounded with seats protected by glass. A crowd was gathering and we quickly set up the gear. We wanted to get a shot of Michael on the opposite side, looking in at the snake handler.
The cobra came out and the crowd roared. The snake looked as bored as we felt and the show was over before we could get more then a couple shots off.
We didn't make it back to the hotel for hours as navigating the insanity on the roads was more then just a 3-man job. Maybe we should have hired our enthusiastic friend after all.
Regardless, shooting in the city proved to be so much more difficult then the country that we decided to write all of Chennai off. The only reason we stuck it out in this town any longer was because Michael forgot his sport coat in Pondicherry and they were trying to figure out how to get it to us. Eventually Michael had to hire a cab to drive it to Chennai. The cab driver had to find driving a filthy coat 160KM his strangest fare.
Day 12
This our second day in the ugliest city on the planet.
We left town in the afternoon and made it to Nellore as fast as possible. We were lucky enough to get a white taxi car driver who knew of the 3-Star hotel called Dr. Uttanash's 3-Star Hotel. It turned out to be a hotel and restuarant management school and testing ground. It became obvious that everyone was still learning there.
This was another one of those places where the lobby is nice, the rooms okay and the bathrooms gross.
Strangely every drawer in our rooms had moth balls rolling about in them. There was even an individual ball in the sink drain. We surmised it wasn't in fact to stop a moth problem but instead to hide the mildew smell. Hotels in India are moldy.
We chucked all our moth balls and kept our door open to air the room out. We sadly couldn't open our window so had to settle for the stinky hallway air as second best.
Having plenty of light left in the day, we decided to get some video footage of Michael driving the rickshaw up a small, busy, store front lined street. This part of Nellore was the old part of town and stuffed with tiny roads going in every direction. We circled and circled the neighborhood, finally settling on one street.
We set up without much gawking and got some really nice footage of Michael driving up the street. It took a few loops around the block and while Adam was filming I walked around.
There was a printers row nearby and there were amazing looking letterpress shops lining the street. It was so cool.
We were exhausted from the long drive and the afternoon of work, we settled into the hotel bar. It was empty and really, really dark. India likes dark bars and extremely bright restaurants. There were only a few men there as is typical here.
Feeling like the dark would buy us some cover Michael went to retrieve his gear and try and do a bar shot.
By the time we got everything set up the place had filled with businessmen. After a few polaroid test shots the head waiter came over and said that customers were complaining thinking we were taking photographs of them in a bar. Apparantly this is illicit activity for some of them.
We gave him a test polaroid were you can really only see Michael and his beer with the background all black. We told him to show it around and assure people that we were only shooting ourselves. It worked.
That night I went for a long walk and found a distant internet cafe. By the time they closed and I was headed back to the hotel, all the other shops were closed. I thought I knew the way back, but everything looked different all closed up and dark. We'd driven so many of the streets that day that the few things I recognized, I could be sure I didn't from driving, not because the hotel was nearby.
Hours of walking later, I was in an area that I didn't recognize in anyway. It was really, really late and my larger and larger walking circles had made me more lost then I'd ever been before.
I sat down on the steps of a building to savor the feeling of being in a completely foreign land, unable to speak the language with no sense of where I was. To top it off I didn't remember the name of the hotel. It was a strange feeling.
After walking some more, I found a kindly looking old man with speckles. I told him I was looking for my hotel. He asked if I needed a hotel and I said I had one, just didn't know where it was.
Suddenly I remembered it had 3-Stars in it's name and it rung a bell with him. He said it was down the stree and take the first right. Eventually I would find it.
I thanked him and set off.
Not 100 yards later and he pulled up on a motorcycle. He just shook his head, smiled and said to get on. I happily did and he took me the 20 blocks to the hotel and in the back way. I'd wandered completely the wrong direction from where I thought I was and was only getting farther and farther away.
I thanked him profusely and tried to offer him some money. He flatly refused and told me to be careful. I would from now on, I promised.
We set out early to walk around and scout out shooting something around town. Maybe something at the local music and dance school that on our map appeared to be nearby.
Our cabbie from the night before seemingly slept in his cab and was waiting for us. We told him that we were going to walk around and wouldn't be needing him. He looked liked we had slapped his grandmother.
We walked and walked and eventually got a cab to take us to the school. It was farther then we'd thought and we couldn't figure out which street was which since there are no signs anywhere.
The school indeed was there and was wrapping up a recital of traditional song and dance. They let us go inside and watch the end of the performance.
It was the traditional stuff you've seen on TV and would expect to see here. The musicians/singers were Ph.D's in traditional music so we got to see really the finest examples of the regions music.
We had a great idea to get some dance students on a stage showing Michael some moves, but with some asking around found out that it would be impossible.
After leaving, we caught a cab to go back to the hotel. The cabbie didn't speak English and was looking confused. Another cabbie pulled up and his eyes went wide when he saw us. He threw the passengers out of his cab, passing them off to the cabbie that didn't speak English. He wanted to be our cab driver and have the chance to take our Rupees.
The whole way back to the hotel he told us how he spoke good English (he didn't) and how after returning to our hotel, he'd wait for us, all night if need be, to take us to all the tourist places. He promised we'd go to the museums and even the beach.
We told him that we didn't want a cabbie and that we had our own rickshaws. This sounded like a bold-faced lie to him and he insisted he would be our cabbie as long as we were in town.
We firmly told him "no" an asked what it would cost to go to our hotel. He replied, "as you like" and said that after driving us around for 2 days we could decide what to pay him.
We again firmly said no, that we were going to get our cameras and rickshaws and wouldn't be needing a driver. We just wanted the price to our hotel.
Again he tried the, "as you like" trick and we told him to stop and threatened to leap from the moving vehicle.
Dejectedly he said 60 Rs. but insisted that he was a good driver and wanted to be our driver.
Luckily he let us out around the corner from our hotel and we avoided what would have certainly been an all-out cabbie fight to be our guy. People desperately want your money in this town.
We walked up to the hotel our cabbie friend walked over looking hurt that he'd waited all morning for us and we weren't taking his cab. We explained that we had our own rickshaws that he'd seen the night before and he suggested that we'd need a guide and he'd tag along for a couple of days. We again said no, we were fine without him.
We loaded our gear and got ready to head out to the local Snake Park to see what action was there. The area also had numerous other sites including the famous MGR movie studio where many of India's films are shot.
Our cabbie was there again suggesting that he could be our guide. I turned tables on him and told him that I had driven over a 1000 kilometers on my own. Was he suggestiong I wasn't a good driver? This left him speechless. The small twist in logic and his poor English left him unable to navigate a way out.
We were official through with him.
Getting to snake park was difficult. Chennai's roads are the worst anywhere. The traffic is unlike anything you can imagine. I don't care how bad the roads are that you've seen somewhere else - Chennai is worse. Times 2.
The Snake Park was sad. Like a north Florida snake sideshow on it's last leg. We nearly couldn't find anything to shoot.
It just so happens that the cobras are brought out into a small enclosure surrounded with seats protected by glass. A crowd was gathering and we quickly set up the gear. We wanted to get a shot of Michael on the opposite side, looking in at the snake handler.
The cobra came out and the crowd roared. The snake looked as bored as we felt and the show was over before we could get more then a couple shots off.
We didn't make it back to the hotel for hours as navigating the insanity on the roads was more then just a 3-man job. Maybe we should have hired our enthusiastic friend after all.
Regardless, shooting in the city proved to be so much more difficult then the country that we decided to write all of Chennai off. The only reason we stuck it out in this town any longer was because Michael forgot his sport coat in Pondicherry and they were trying to figure out how to get it to us. Eventually Michael had to hire a cab to drive it to Chennai. The cab driver had to find driving a filthy coat 160KM his strangest fare.
Day 12
This our second day in the ugliest city on the planet.
We left town in the afternoon and made it to Nellore as fast as possible. We were lucky enough to get a white taxi car driver who knew of the 3-Star hotel called Dr. Uttanash's 3-Star Hotel. It turned out to be a hotel and restuarant management school and testing ground. It became obvious that everyone was still learning there.
This was another one of those places where the lobby is nice, the rooms okay and the bathrooms gross.
Strangely every drawer in our rooms had moth balls rolling about in them. There was even an individual ball in the sink drain. We surmised it wasn't in fact to stop a moth problem but instead to hide the mildew smell. Hotels in India are moldy.
We chucked all our moth balls and kept our door open to air the room out. We sadly couldn't open our window so had to settle for the stinky hallway air as second best.
Having plenty of light left in the day, we decided to get some video footage of Michael driving the rickshaw up a small, busy, store front lined street. This part of Nellore was the old part of town and stuffed with tiny roads going in every direction. We circled and circled the neighborhood, finally settling on one street.
We set up without much gawking and got some really nice footage of Michael driving up the street. It took a few loops around the block and while Adam was filming I walked around.
There was a printers row nearby and there were amazing looking letterpress shops lining the street. It was so cool.
We were exhausted from the long drive and the afternoon of work, we settled into the hotel bar. It was empty and really, really dark. India likes dark bars and extremely bright restaurants. There were only a few men there as is typical here.
Feeling like the dark would buy us some cover Michael went to retrieve his gear and try and do a bar shot.
By the time we got everything set up the place had filled with businessmen. After a few polaroid test shots the head waiter came over and said that customers were complaining thinking we were taking photographs of them in a bar. Apparantly this is illicit activity for some of them.
We gave him a test polaroid were you can really only see Michael and his beer with the background all black. We told him to show it around and assure people that we were only shooting ourselves. It worked.
That night I went for a long walk and found a distant internet cafe. By the time they closed and I was headed back to the hotel, all the other shops were closed. I thought I knew the way back, but everything looked different all closed up and dark. We'd driven so many of the streets that day that the few things I recognized, I could be sure I didn't from driving, not because the hotel was nearby.
Hours of walking later, I was in an area that I didn't recognize in anyway. It was really, really late and my larger and larger walking circles had made me more lost then I'd ever been before.
I sat down on the steps of a building to savor the feeling of being in a completely foreign land, unable to speak the language with no sense of where I was. To top it off I didn't remember the name of the hotel. It was a strange feeling.
After walking some more, I found a kindly looking old man with speckles. I told him I was looking for my hotel. He asked if I needed a hotel and I said I had one, just didn't know where it was.
Suddenly I remembered it had 3-Stars in it's name and it rung a bell with him. He said it was down the stree and take the first right. Eventually I would find it.
I thanked him and set off.
Not 100 yards later and he pulled up on a motorcycle. He just shook his head, smiled and said to get on. I happily did and he took me the 20 blocks to the hotel and in the back way. I'd wandered completely the wrong direction from where I thought I was and was only getting farther and farther away.
I thanked him profusely and tried to offer him some money. He flatly refused and told me to be careful. I would from now on, I promised.
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