Indian Odyssey: Charming Chettinad

 

 

Leaving the splendid Chola temples of Kumbakonam, we continued south through flat rural country. The November landscape was hot, dry, and dusty, yet abounding with farming activity and bustling towns.

We passed sugar cane, maize, sunflowers, tamarind trees, Australian eucalypts (grown for oils), and people baking and selling local cashews from roadside stalls. We stopped and grabbed a few bags to nibble during the journey.

 

Cashews for sale

 

The roads teemed with hundreds of Hindu pilgrims walking barefoot in bright robes to annual ceremonies at distant holy places in the south and west of the country.

Driving through golden afternoon light we finally arrived at our next destination, the remarkable village of Kanadukattan in the Chettinad region.

This area, 400km south of Chennai, consisting of 73 villages and two major towns,  is a fascinating and unique part of the Subcontinent.

 

 

It’s startling to note the hundreds of vast mansions, in both western and eastern period style, lining the streets. Some remain in fine condition, but many have become dilapidated, rundown and even abandoned.

Our first thought was, who on earth was responsible for such overt architectural magnificence? Turns out it was a band of very savvy local operators, shrewd wheeler-dealers who even put their ostentatious British overlords to shame.

 

 

The Chettinad locals descend from a class of ultra-wealthy Tamil merchants and traders, the Chettiars, who unashamedly splashed their fortunes around during their heyday.

Between 1850 and 1945, they were the India’s official money lenders,  at the zenith of their commercial power. They ventured out and made money all over Asia, then shipped it home, and built in grandiose, flamboyant style.

 

 

Many of the mansions and villas mirrored those of the wealthy and aristocratic in London, Paris, Rome, Berlin and New York and the very finest materials and fittings were shipped in from around the world to achieve equivalent sumptuousness. Top architects also travelled from these places to proffer their services.

 

 

The Chettiars conducted much of their business from bases in Burma, conveniently situated across the Bay of Bengal from their homeland, and for decades everything went swimmingly, their coffers bulging. The Chets were on a roll.

But then along came World War II and the Japanese onslaught. When the British were forced to flee Burma, so too did the Indian merchants who’d worked closely with them, leaving behind much of their wealth. They returned to their southern Indian homes; all they had left. The glory days were over.

 

The courtyard at Saratha Villa. Note the cage grate in the roof to stop pesky monkeys getting in.

We arrive at a stately house, Saratha Villa, with high walls in a quiet lane, our digs for several days. It was built in 1905 by a Chettiar merchant whose primary business was in Malacca.

He used Burmese teak, Japanese tiles, Italian marble, and Belgian crystal chandeliers. The result is an intriguing blend of traditional Hindu-Tamil and European architecture – and it works, austere but elegant.

 

 

This villa was bought by two French architects who first came to Chettinad 21 years ago. They set about doing up the property, using local craftsmen to return it to its former glory and transforming it into an eight-bedroom guest house.

 

 

They’ve also set out to document other palatial houses in the area, many of which are now gradually going to rack and ruin. They were shocked to discover thousands of Chettiar mansions spread over 1600 square km.

They have worked hard with Indian authorities to ensure the mansions gain international recognition and are pushing to get the area World Heritage classification.

 

 

Wandering local streets, we were gobsmacked to see umpteen, huge multi-coloured villas, many seemingly unoccupied, apart perhaps from a lone, aging descendant of the original owner, still dutifully holding the fort for posterity. Tamil Miss Havishams occasionally peered forlornly from dusty upper windows.

 

 

Monkeys swung from mango trees in deserted gardens or scrambled across the peeling, ornate facades. Oblivious villagers strolled past, going about their daily business, and numerous cows (sacred and otherwise) lingered in the alleys and lanes chewing the cud. Almost surreal, it was akin to drifting through a weird Dravidian Fritz Lang tableau.

One beautiful building that has been well preserved and enjoys regular use is Chettinad Palace, today chiefly used for film shoots and weddings.

 

 

We also visited a spectacular villa, open to the public, where we strolled through room after magnificent room of Euro-Tamil rococo opulence. Young Indians swanned about, giggling through its echoing halls, snapping selfies, and playing modern day rajas and ranis.

 

 

Surprisingly, we’d have been lucky to see five foreign faces during our entire Chettinad stay, another sign that this extraordinary Indian locale remains unknown, or forgotten, by much of the outer world.

 

 

Murugan, our trusty driver, was familiar with the town and took us to one of its quirkier temples. This was a gorgeous compound devoted to worshipping the horse and its divine associates.

If the Hindu locals have a special milestone in their lives, they donate a brightly painted terracotta horse at the temple, some even life size. Hence the grounds are crowded with these funky nags, a la the terracotta warriors at Xian.

 

 

The temple has been operating this way for hundreds of years and is also strewn with very old rows of horses,  slowly cracking and crumbling to clay dust.

The faithful also fashion small clay votive dolls of themselves, family, and friends for the temple, bringing good luck and favour from the gods. We saw hordes of these odd little effigies peering from recesses and niches in the grounds.

 

 

Chettinad is also renowned for its accomplished ceramic tile makers and bronze workers. Murugan took us to see a couple of the best-known artisans in the area (we suspect calling ahead to alert the proprietors of incoming customers and a cut of the action).

 

 

First, we visited a workshop of the tile makers, where we were shown the entire manufacturing process. For centuries Chettinad has been renowned for its colourful ceramic tiles which are shipped all over the world.

 

 

The tiles are expertly made by hand, making each unique, and it is a fascinating process from sloppy coloured muds to beautiful multi-patterned creations to decorate floors and walls.

Then it was off to the bronze makers.  Taken to another family home, we watched artisans expertly melting down scrap metal to create bronze figurines.

 

 

If you have ever wondered where India’s trillions of small souvenir metal Ganeshas and Vishnus come from (often sold as ancient artifacts, but made yesterday), then this is one such fount of creativity.

 

 

Following the forging and casting process demo, we were subtly coaxed into the sales section where the hard sell resulted in us walking out in possession of the obligatory Ganesha paper weight.

 

 

We also visited one of the more impressive temples in the area, but, for reasons unknown, Murugan abruptly got into a heated stoush with a delegation of holy men who had asked him to take a photo of them with Jacqui.

 

Barny across the water? Murugan takes on the holy men at the local temple

 

For some reason, this riled our driver, and he yelled at the holy men. The rowdy gaggle rushed him, yelling back, as we made a discreet retreat to a safe distance. Nothing was said about this astonishing incident once Murugan was back behind the wheel, but one got the distinct impression there might have been a contemptuous familiarity betwixt the temple keepers and our driver.

Back at the villa, time for another delicious meal, prepared as ever, in the traditional Chettiar style. The cuisine of Chettinad is perhaps the most renowned fare in the Tamil Nadu repertoire.

 

 

They use a variety of piquant and nuanced spices, and many dishes are made with fresh ground masalas. Food is predominantly vegetarian due to the Tamil Brahmin influence. But they also use a variety of sun-dried meats and salted vegetables, reflecting the dry environment of the region. Delicious fodder indeed!

Our all-too-short stay in Chettinad was a revelation of fascinating culture, customs, architecture, food, and warm friendly people.

 

 

We vowed to return to discover more of it one of these days, but now it was time to head for the Western Ghats high country, our excitement building at the prospect of seeing an Indian tiger in the wild.

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Indian Odyssey: Charming Chettinad

  1. A colourful country captured beautifully in pictures and words. Pete, you & Jac always enjoy such journeys and we are all so fortunate that you share them with us. Keep ’em coming and keep up the good work. Cheers, BC.

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