Puducherry (Tamil name), also known as Pondicherry (English name), also known as Pondichéry (French name) is a small town 160km south of Chennai. During the period of colonisation (1693-1954), it has been held by the Dutch, the French, the British, the French, the British, the French, the British, and the French.
We had the most wonderful tour guide, Bishwajit Banik, known as Bishwa, who explained the back-and-forwards of the various colonial masters, and how the French eventually ended up with uncontested rule. (The Brits second guessed the French and moved their troops to Pondicherry, leaving the major port of Chennai (Madras) unprotected. The French managed to seize the citadel in Chennai, which was a bit embarrassing for the Brits. They agreed to a swap, and the French were finally able to walk into Pondicherry with no bloodshed.) He explained how, after Independence, while India desperately wanted the remaining colonial enclaves of Pondicherry and Goa returned to Indian rule, they feared the fallout if those colonial masters screwed things up as monumentally as the British did when they left. Therefore the French and Portuguese departures took longer, and the ties are still very strong in both areas. Not only is there a substantial French Consulate here, there are strong educational links with France.
The boundaries of the walled town are clearly evident from any map of the city. It is neatly divided into two sections - the third nearest the coast is the predominantly French area, and the balance predominantly Indian. The two sections are neatly divided by a canal running the full width of the city.
The French influence is clearly visible throughout the whole city, with street names showing a strong French influence (we are staying in Maison Perumal, in Rue Perumal, just off Rue de la Cathedrale). The Aurobindo ashram is located in the French quarter, and is the drawcard for many tourists, and others. For example, Bishwa's father, originally from Calcutta (up north) sold his many successful businesses and migrated to Pondicherry so that his children could attend the Aurobindo school. Bishwa's academic language is therefore French, but he also speaks fluent English, enjoyed conversing with Dad in Bengali, as well as speaking Tamil, the local language.
If we'd been here a week ago, we would have seen a beautiful city, the streets lined with many old trees. In the wake of Cyclone Thane (thah-nay), many of the trees have been brought down. If we'd got here a day earlier, many of the major thoroughfares would have been impassable due to fallen trees, and they'd be on day 3 of no power. There are still no cell phone towers operating. The winds hit late at night on the 29th, and had blown through by late morning the next day. The rain didn't come until the following night, when it absolutely pelted down. Bishwa lives in an third-storey apartment overlooking the ocean, so his windows were blown out on the first night, and the rain swept through on the second.
After the French quarter and the beach (once a beautiful sandy beach, some development down the coast prevented the sand from replenishing it, and it has now been shored by with ugly black chunks of stone), Bishwa took us to a temple to Ganesh.
The French colonial masters were unimpressed with the temple, as they saw it as competition for converting the townsfolk to catholicism. They picked up the statue of Ganesh and threw it into the sea. The next morning, it was back in the temple, wet but in place. Again, and again, the French threw the statue into the sea. Again and again, it was restored by morning. Very soon after the Governor got very ill. His Hindu advisor suggested that perhaps he had managed the unthinkable and had actually pissed off the exceptionally genial Ganesh. The advisor suggested the Governor should go pray to Ganesh. Desperately ill and terrified, he did, and recovered very soon after. In gratitude, the Governor significantly upgraded the temple. To this day is sometimes known as Vellakkaran (white man) Pillai (Ganesha).
Outside the temple stands Lakshmi, the elephant. Each morning she comes to the temple, goes in to pray, and then comes outside to bestow blessings (brush her trunk on your head) for those who place a coin in her trunk. Too big to sleep at Ganesh's temple, she instead stays at Shiva's temple (Shiva is the father of Ganesh, so she is welcome there) each afternoon siesta and each night.
In the last few years before the French formally left Pondicherry, they offered French citizenship to those of the city who wanted it. Thirty thousand took up this opportunity, necessarily giving up their Indian citizenship, almost all of whom were from the Untouchables caste. Many converted to catholicism at the same time. They saw this as an chance for a new life, with opportunities open to them that were not available in India, including education for their children. Outcasts in France as much as they were in India, many ended up as cannon fodder or in very low level bureaucratic jobs. Pondy has one of the very few RSLs outside of France.
Finally, Bishwa took us to Sacred Heart Church. A great many of the emigrants returned to Pondicherry on retirement, bringing with them a French pension (a substantial income in India). Feeling most comfortable in their old neighbourhoods, they resettled in the Untouchables zone but gentrified it. From being one of the filthiest areas, it is now the cleanest. The houses, although small, and immaculately maintained. They also support the cathedral built for them (initially built so they wouldn't try to attend to catholic churches in the fancier parts of town). It holds at least two masses a day, with CCTV screens showing the priest to those throughout the church, and on huge projection screens to those standing under the vast shaded areas outside, used for overflow capacity. Like the Vatican, the church also has its own 24 hr television channel. Gaudily painted inside and out, it is a riot of colour. (When the first stained glass windows were sent out from France, the manufacturers were told in no uncertain terms that the colours were too muted - they needed to be much bolder.)
We returned to our hotel for lunch (I had a lovely fish curry, with hoppers) and a nap. We are still struggling with the heat, humidity and the jetlag. We'd hoped to go out and explore the shopping strip and Grand Bazaar, but ended up sleeping through K&G's attempt to wake us.
We had the most wonderful tour guide, Bishwajit Banik, known as Bishwa, who explained the back-and-forwards of the various colonial masters, and how the French eventually ended up with uncontested rule. (The Brits second guessed the French and moved their troops to Pondicherry, leaving the major port of Chennai (Madras) unprotected. The French managed to seize the citadel in Chennai, which was a bit embarrassing for the Brits. They agreed to a swap, and the French were finally able to walk into Pondicherry with no bloodshed.) He explained how, after Independence, while India desperately wanted the remaining colonial enclaves of Pondicherry and Goa returned to Indian rule, they feared the fallout if those colonial masters screwed things up as monumentally as the British did when they left. Therefore the French and Portuguese departures took longer, and the ties are still very strong in both areas. Not only is there a substantial French Consulate here, there are strong educational links with France.
The boundaries of the walled town are clearly evident from any map of the city. It is neatly divided into two sections - the third nearest the coast is the predominantly French area, and the balance predominantly Indian. The two sections are neatly divided by a canal running the full width of the city.
The French influence is clearly visible throughout the whole city, with street names showing a strong French influence (we are staying in Maison Perumal, in Rue Perumal, just off Rue de la Cathedrale). The Aurobindo ashram is located in the French quarter, and is the drawcard for many tourists, and others. For example, Bishwa's father, originally from Calcutta (up north) sold his many successful businesses and migrated to Pondicherry so that his children could attend the Aurobindo school. Bishwa's academic language is therefore French, but he also speaks fluent English, enjoyed conversing with Dad in Bengali, as well as speaking Tamil, the local language.
If we'd been here a week ago, we would have seen a beautiful city, the streets lined with many old trees. In the wake of Cyclone Thane (thah-nay), many of the trees have been brought down. If we'd got here a day earlier, many of the major thoroughfares would have been impassable due to fallen trees, and they'd be on day 3 of no power. There are still no cell phone towers operating. The winds hit late at night on the 29th, and had blown through by late morning the next day. The rain didn't come until the following night, when it absolutely pelted down. Bishwa lives in an third-storey apartment overlooking the ocean, so his windows were blown out on the first night, and the rain swept through on the second.
After the French quarter and the beach (once a beautiful sandy beach, some development down the coast prevented the sand from replenishing it, and it has now been shored by with ugly black chunks of stone), Bishwa took us to a temple to Ganesh.
The French colonial masters were unimpressed with the temple, as they saw it as competition for converting the townsfolk to catholicism. They picked up the statue of Ganesh and threw it into the sea. The next morning, it was back in the temple, wet but in place. Again, and again, the French threw the statue into the sea. Again and again, it was restored by morning. Very soon after the Governor got very ill. His Hindu advisor suggested that perhaps he had managed the unthinkable and had actually pissed off the exceptionally genial Ganesh. The advisor suggested the Governor should go pray to Ganesh. Desperately ill and terrified, he did, and recovered very soon after. In gratitude, the Governor significantly upgraded the temple. To this day is sometimes known as Vellakkaran (white man) Pillai (Ganesha).
Outside the temple stands Lakshmi, the elephant. Each morning she comes to the temple, goes in to pray, and then comes outside to bestow blessings (brush her trunk on your head) for those who place a coin in her trunk. Too big to sleep at Ganesh's temple, she instead stays at Shiva's temple (Shiva is the father of Ganesh, so she is welcome there) each afternoon siesta and each night.
In the last few years before the French formally left Pondicherry, they offered French citizenship to those of the city who wanted it. Thirty thousand took up this opportunity, necessarily giving up their Indian citizenship, almost all of whom were from the Untouchables caste. Many converted to catholicism at the same time. They saw this as an chance for a new life, with opportunities open to them that were not available in India, including education for their children. Outcasts in France as much as they were in India, many ended up as cannon fodder or in very low level bureaucratic jobs. Pondy has one of the very few RSLs outside of France.
Finally, Bishwa took us to Sacred Heart Church. A great many of the emigrants returned to Pondicherry on retirement, bringing with them a French pension (a substantial income in India). Feeling most comfortable in their old neighbourhoods, they resettled in the Untouchables zone but gentrified it. From being one of the filthiest areas, it is now the cleanest. The houses, although small, and immaculately maintained. They also support the cathedral built for them (initially built so they wouldn't try to attend to catholic churches in the fancier parts of town). It holds at least two masses a day, with CCTV screens showing the priest to those throughout the church, and on huge projection screens to those standing under the vast shaded areas outside, used for overflow capacity. Like the Vatican, the church also has its own 24 hr television channel. Gaudily painted inside and out, it is a riot of colour. (When the first stained glass windows were sent out from France, the manufacturers were told in no uncertain terms that the colours were too muted - they needed to be much bolder.)
We returned to our hotel for lunch (I had a lovely fish curry, with hoppers) and a nap. We are still struggling with the heat, humidity and the jetlag. We'd hoped to go out and explore the shopping strip and Grand Bazaar, but ended up sleeping through K&G's attempt to wake us.
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