Indian Tonic – Fear

3am: walking out of the Chennai airport. I spot two soldiers with heavy weapons in hand chatting casually and I ask for directions: taxis are waiting outside of the airport. The air is hot and humid, filled with unfamiliar and unfriendly scents. Quick stop at an ATM machine to get some local currency: Card refused. Next ATM: same result. I already see myself taking a taxi without any means to pay for the ride. Third ATM: success!

With a hefty amount of rupees in my pocket I make my way towards the passenger pick-up area. A crowd of hundreds is gathered around the exit, many carrying signs. Sigh of relief as I spot “Mr. Brehaut”. Dozens of taxi drivers are hanging out, smoking unfiltered cigarettes and chatting as if it wasn’t 4am. Our car looks like a remake of inspector Columbo’s old Peugeot 304 and it’s surrounded on all sides. After some honking and arguing the path opens and we are on our way to the hotel – or so I hope.

The driver and I both speak English but this common language separates us. There are two Raintree hotels in Chennai and I silently pray that he is taking me to the right one. As we turn off the main road into some dark alleys and residential areas I start wondering if this guy is taking me to a quiet spot where his friends will rob me and leave me naked in the street. I weigh the options. 1: Politely ask if he is sure this is the right way. 2: Ask him to drop me off right here (and then what?). 3: Put on my 007 suit and jump out of the car. The Bene Gesserit litany* plays in my head:

Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

The Raintree Hotel appears like a shining beacon.

 

Cedric, 5/22/11
(Chennai trip in December 2010)
*: Frank Herbert [Dune]