A Very Gangster Christmas

              I knew coming to India I would be having a great many 'firsts' but there was no way I could have predicted the way my 2012 ended.  If you had asked me what I would be doing for Christmas break in India I would have guessed lounging at the pool getting a nice December tan - certainly not hanging out with a local Robin Hood Mafia leader at his mountain get away.  And yet that's how things turned out for me this year. 

               Through mere happenstance (and having a friend in Madurai whose working with the Dalit community in Tamil Nadu) I was invited to spend part of my Christmas vacation with a curious fellow called John Pandian.  For those of you who may not know him John Pandian is seen as (depending on who you ask) a local hero/Mafioso/all-around-badass.  I'm a bit rocky on his entire life history but it goes a little something like this:

               Growing up in Tirunelveli, he and his brother had a reputation of being "rowdies", and they were both part of the Dalit community.  In that area and many others in Southern Tamil Nadu there's great animosity between Dalit and the Thevars.   From what I understand, while both the Thevars and Dalits are lower-caste groups, the Thevars have often tried to keep local dominance and further subjugate Dalits.  Back when John Pandian was a young adult there was a nasty tradition where Dalit women who were about to get married had to first be taken to the Thevars and were made to sleep with a Thevar before she could sleep with her husband.  Undeniably a pretty shitty situation. 

               So John and his brother, being the wholesome rowdies that they were, made sure to put an end to that ridiculous tradition.  This of course brought them plenty of enemies.  In retaliation (I think) John Pandian's brother was murdered which then led to John Pandian and others committing revenge killings.  Soon afterwards JP was on the run from the police and spent three years hiding out in the Yelagiri Hills where he shared a bungalow with a monkey (which he later had to get rid of because according to John, he became 'too mischievous'). 

               Eventually the police caught up with him and he was sent to jail for close to 15 years.  But this, my friends, is not the end of the story.  Somehow in the time he was there John went from the bottom to practically running things while he was there.  He set up a communal garden for the inmates to maintain to supplement their daily meals, which weren't exactly what you would call nutritious.  

               But what truly makes this man a complete and total gangster is that out of jail he has the police guarding him.  Relations between the Dalits and the Thevars have by no means improved - if anything they are worse.  Just this past November there were at least two killings between the communities and needless to say there are many death threats made daily towards John Pandian from the Thevars.  Once out of jail, the police realized the only way to keep all hell from breaking loose was to keep John Pandian alive.

               Which is why he has his own personal 24-hour police entourage complete with personal bodyguard.  Upon arriving at his apartment in the early morning my friend and I noticed a patrol car parked outside his apartment with at least 4 cops milling around, mostly telling jokes and passing the time.  Now I had basically learned this man's life history in the short span of a few phone calls and an auto ride from my friend so after seeing this I was a bit intimidated.

               I mean what's the protocol for hanging out with a local gang leader?  Hell, I didn't even know what he looked like let alone how he would act!  All I knew was that he had invited us to see his mountain hideout (where he is now building another house for his family).  A part of the whirlwind package my friend bagged in order to interview this influential leader.    

               We go inside where he comes down from the second floor dressed in an old plaid lungi and t-shirt.  Not so scary.  Then in true Tamil fashion he invites us to have a massive breakfast with him, some coffee, and even lets us take a shower in his daughter's room while he had a "business" meeting.            

               Afterwards we were on our way towards the mountains, complete with police escort through Chennai, accompanied by not only a faithful driver but John Pandian's very own bodyguard.  It was perhaps the oddest car ride thanks to the fact I spent it in the backseat with the bodyguard and his not so subtle gun.  The other reason?  We were driving in a brand new Mercedes.  My butt had never seen such luxury.

               We made a pit stop in Vellore for lunch - the most harrowing lunch of my life.  I've never actually experienced over-eating to the point that I wanted to cry until that afternoon and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it.  Turned out that Mr. Pandian was a good friend of the owner so rather than seeing a menu the chef offered to bring out an assortment of food.  This turned out to be 4 different types of rice, at least 5 main dishes (one being an entire chicken), 3-4 appetizers, a bottle of pepsi, and two bottles of beer.  Generous helpings of everything was unavoidable and both my friend and I had to take a break during the meal.   I felt like the guy in Seven who died after overeating - I nearly considered forcing myself to throw-up it hurt so bad.  

               Before we could leave, the owner brought out a cake along with birthday decorations - turned out that it had been John Pandian's birthday over 2 months ago and because this guy missed it he felt he had to make it up to him.  Crazy right?   Cue onslaught of photos with everyone in attendance as well as obligatory cake-feeding.  Thank god I got away with only eating a slice. 

Notice the subtle guard standing off to the side of the birthday celebrations.  Also my subtle photo-taking skills......

               Then we were back on the road headed towards the mountain.  Once we made it we realized that his bungalow in the woods was not quite the 4 Seasons we expected after riding around in a Mercedes.  Seeing as how he was in the process of building his new house right next door (which will undoubtedly be a picture of perfection) it was obvious that this bungalow was meant for a bachelor's comfort.

               Our bed sheets were moldy, a thin layer of dust covered most of everything, and the bathroom was covered with what I hope was water.  But my friend and I had stayed in either worse or equally dismal situations so we just agreed to sleep on the top sheet and share a blanket.  The rest of our night with John Pandian wasn't as eventful - he's a busy man (all throughout our time with Mr. Pandian his phone probably rang about 200 times, anytime anyone has a problem be it with police, a land deal getting blocked, or annoying bureaucracy holding things up, John Pandian is the man they call.  He takes care of everything - and I'm assuming makes a rather large cut from these deals). 

               Besides, the novelty of carting two young 20-something year old American girls wore off for him and he seemed happier to just watch some T.V.  He sat in the living room with a ski mask that covered everything but his eyes and mouth (because it was a brisk 65 degrees outside) while his bodyguard and driver fumbled in the kitchen to make him tea.  Protecting a notorious mafia leader?  Peace of cake.  Heating up milk for afternoon tea?  An overwhelming task the size of Mt. Everest.  

               We left them to their devices and braved the cold mountains for more adventure.  Along the way we ran across adorable puppies, kids playing cricket, a beautiful temple at sunset, and partook in some green that my friend bought off a friendly auto driver in Chennai.  Our hope was to unwind and walk off the massive meal sitting heavy in our stomachs before dinner.  

 

               When we got back John was convinced it was dinner time despite the weak protests the two of us made.  He was also convinced that we wanted more drinks despite the fact that he doesn't drink himself.  While we were gone he asked a friend in the town to grab us some Bacardi, and not five minutes after we find his friend bundled up in a parka holding two bottles.  Obviously this was take two of epic meals and we were forced to devour half a bucket of fried chicken with intermittent sips of green apple Bacardi and Limca. 

               The rest of the night was uneventful as JP went to bed early (I mean at some point his system was going to need to take a siesta to digest the buffet we all had swirling around in our stomachs) and both the bodyguard and driver disappeared somewhere that wasn't in the house.  What did the two of us do then?  Why, watch Sex and the City 2 of course!  It seemed somehow appropriate that we do something that ridiculous to round out the day we had.

               The next day started off quick, we woke up to find the chef from the restaurant earlier was in the house with his kids and guess what - he brought breakfast!  Thankfully we escaped with eating two chapattis each before cramming back in the Mercedes.

John and I at the bungalow

Soon after coffee we were back on the road and because Mr. Pandian was always so thoughtful, he figured the best way to pass the time was to listen to some tunes.  What does this powerful man like to listen to during his free time? 

               "I'm A Barbie Girl."  Seriously.  Not just I'm A Barbie Girl but the entire Aqua collection.   I had no idea the group had any other songs let alone that someone actually bought the CD.  But there we were, three men in a car, one a grizzled leader of his community and the other holding a gun, listening to an Aqua CD on loop 4 times in a row.  It was something out of a Haruki Murakami novel only somehow slightly less believable. 

               Despite this we made it back to Chennai with our ears intact and perhaps slightly more bubbly than when we left.  Our time with JP was far from over, however.  Epic Meal #3 was next.  Mr. Pandian's personal secretary (yes he has one) had invited all of us plus a bunch of other people I didn't know to his house for a grand meal cooked by his wife.  Of course we had to go. 

               This meal was almost impossible and both my friend and I have donned it the meal of A Thousand Slaughtered Animals. We had a beautiful banana leaf stretched out in front of us yet we only saw the green for about one second before food was poured onto it.  First came rice, three different kind to be exact, and a long, brown dessert that resembled a  giant turd but tasted amazing.  Think Gulab Jamun.  

Then came the meat.  We had 5 different animals on the same banana leaf.  There was mutton biriyani, chicken gravy plus drumstick, a huge fish filet, shrimp, and brains.  Yes, brains.  I'm not sure which animal the brains came from but I figured at the end of the day it was probably best not to ask. 

               I was hesitant to eat them of course but not because of the ick factor.  You see I have a bad habit of reading books about new viruses/diseases, and well the one thing they all have in common is the advice that eating animal brains is a pretty terrible idea.  If you want to stay away from nasty hemorrhagic fevers or diseases that will bore holes into your brain then you should probably stay away from brains.  But what could I do?  I didn't want to diss this gangster or his friend's family.  So I made a nice brain/rice pate and shoveled it into my mouth.

               Turns out brains don't taste so bad.  Actually they look and have a similar texture to very fluffy  scrambled eggs.  In fact, with the spices, it tasted, dare I say it, great!  Unfortunately I got a bit overzealous and in an attempt to make my brain mound smaller, I grabbed a big chunk.  

This is where brains and eggs differ.   Eggs will crumble in your mouth right?  Well brains don't do that.  Nope. The more you chew, the more it turns into a thick paste that coats your entire mouth and makes it very hard to swallow.  I was  proud of my gag reflex and myself in that somehow I was able to force it down.  After that I decided that was enough brain for me. 

               I don't know how we got through that meal and at the time I thought my stomach might burst at the table.  I do know I refused a lot of second helpings and at one point kept both hands over the leaf to protect it from more biriyani.  Of course that didn't stop the after-meal desserts from being forced into our hands but at least we tried. 

               And do you want to know what was the most hilarious part of it?  After we had all eaten and the women were either making paan (betel leaf with fragrant things stuffed inside for digestion) or in the bedroom hanging out, the police came in.  The very police that were protecting John Pandian were invited up to the apartment to partake in this feast and let me tell you, I have never seen the police so punctual or excited about anything in India.  

               They dug into that food with huge smiles on their faces and cracked jokes with the women ladling out the food.  It hit me then that as far as police work goes in India, guarding John Pandian was probably the best job they had ever been assigned.  Their day usually entails hanging outside his apartment and drinking tumbler after tumbler of creamy coffee.  Picture that punctuated by the occasional feast and it nearly made me wish I could guard him too.  

               With an unholy mixture of seafood, chicken, and lamb rolling in our gut, my friend and I made our polite excuses and thanked our way to the exit.  It was pretty clear that John Pandian was through with us as he mostly was hanging out with his daughter and talking to much more important people and truthfully the two of us were looking forward to negotiating our own meal sizes. 

               However that was not the end of it.  A few days later (after exploring Chennai nightlife extensively, I highly recommend to anyone in South India to do the same) for Christmas we decided to drop by his house to give him a thank you gift.  Of course we couldn't simply drop the gift off and go about our business, we had to hang out and talk for a while.  This then turned into a whole host of people coming to his house and his daughter pulling out massive boxes filled with, drumroll, firecrackers. 

               Despite living in a tightly packed apartment complex, John and his family saw no reason why we shouldn't set a few off to celebrate Christmas.  And I'm not talking sparklers here, I mean the TNT kind.  The big ones that shoot up into the air and everyone tells you to light in an open field.

               This was when we realized John Pandian can do whatever the hell he pleases.  Despite having neighbors above his house and next to him, we all went about lighting the fireworks in the middle of the driveway of the complex.  The police hanging out with us, we all watched as the fireworks somehow shot above the many tangled electrical wires and exploded in the air only to have the sparks blown into the windows of the upstairs apartments.  What did the police do?  Absolutely nothing.  Did they say anything?  Nope.  In fact one of them gleefully ran over to light a massive rocket all with a child-like smile on his face.  Obviously being John Pandian's bodyguard truly is a dream job for some. 

Worst Decision Making Ever

               It was probably the poorest decision making I've seen in a long time but hey if the police didn't give a shit then obviously I was being too uptight.  So I celebrated my Christmas with fire hazards galore and magical fireworks bursting above our heads into the neighbor's open windows.  And afterwards the club of course because only a really cold beer can set you right after you narrowly avoid starting a fire.

               But there was my Christmas of 2012 - a most incredible, unbelievable, and surreal week that I'm almost sure won't ever be repeated.