Every time I think I know the process at the FRO, they change the rules.
I arrive at 2pm as instructed last time, only to be told TODAY it opens at 3pm. Pointing to the new "Open at 2pm" sign is a futile exercise, so I sit near the registration desk for the clerk to arrive from lunch. Once he does, his desk is literally flanked with people, and I'm pushed around as passports from all nationalities are shoved into his face.
The scene is unfolding with such intensity and raw emotion that it oddly brings to mind scenes of the Americans pulling out of 'Nam and the Vietnamese trying to be pulled into American choppers. I laugh at myself at my ridiculously melodramatic mental parallels, but I've learned that amusing yourself is the only way to survive the FRO (a former roommate recommends just going drunk).
FOUR hours later with the sun starting to set, I'm still waiting to be called into the room next door. As I complain to the clerk, he cooly replies, "This is India."
There's nothing to say in response.
It's not all bad though; I have a good book and meet interesting people -- the German girl who's randomly spent time in Little Rock, Arkansas; students from Kenya and Vietnam coming here to study; and a young American with a strong southern drawl, here teaching Indians at call centers to speak with American accents. His wife just delivered at an amazingly nice maternity hospital in Delhi, which I recently visited to learn more about the spectrum of maternal health in India.
While it's fascinating to learn about people's backgrounds and what they're doing here, we're all getting antsy and frustrated and bored. I sit and wait and wait some more, contemplating the fine line between acceptance and complacency. It's a delicate balance that I find myself constantly navigating and re-calibrating in India. When do you just take a deep breath and let things go, and when do you speak out and insist things are done differently?
My thoughts are cut short, for I am finally called. After more formalities, my waiting is finally rewarded. I breathe a sigh of relief -- my three-month visa extension and residential process is now officially over!
My co-workers think I should start a consultancy advising others on the visa process. I think I may have a new career! (just kidding, LifeSpring ;)
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