Incredible India

I'm in India, had I mentioned that? I've been here for a little more than two weeks now. Being in the far North, it feels more like India Light, I'll get to that a bit later.

When I finally decided to quit and go traveling, the two places that I was most excited to visit were China and India. Both countries are so large, so populated, so geographically diverse, so dynamic, so different, that I knew that whatever time I spent traveling, it would be mere glimpses, the slightest of introductions. China did not disappoint, and I have high hopes for India as well.

When I applied for my India visa last summer, I had the option of a one, two and ten year visa. Ten years didn't make sense (my passport will have long expired by then) and two years just felt too long. I wanted to put a time constraint on myself lest I get seduced into traveling for too long. Every couple of weeks I meet someone on a megatrip; two years out of three, five months while planning for five years, etc. There's something that feels wrong about being 'away' for so long. I love what I've been doing the past year, but it's not a normal life. So last August, I decided that one year was more than enough time, and it would force me to come home at a somewhat certain date. A month ago, I realized in horror that August is not that far off and I need to get my ass to India. I had planned on going back into Cambodia, but India was calling and time's a ticking.

After a night in the KL airport, I arrived in Kolkatta, home to over 15 million people and an airport suitable for a large town. They have two passport gates for all flights, fortunately, we were the only plane otherwise it would have been a quite the wait.

After scrupulously checking my passport and visa for five minutes, I was granted entry by a man with an impressive mustaches. Perhaps he got this all important position because of his manly upper lip. I quickly learned that Bengali men exude masculinity, which is apparent from their hairiness and ample mid-sections. Both features would put the SE Asians that I've been around the past five months to shame. If only they were constantly dancing in the street like in the movies, that would truly be incredible.

Battles in Bureaucracy

I knew that India is home to paper pushing and some serious bureaucracy. It took me about five minutes of being in the country to see this firsthand.

There's a fixed priced taxi from the airport into the City. For some reason this is located just five feet from a security gate and for arrival passengers only. After talking to the cabbies outside, I wanted to go back to the taxi agency and ask a quick question. But getting back into the airport was apparently not allowed. As I atempted to enter, the security guard asked to see my ticket. When I told him that I just arrived in Kolkatta and that I wanted to talk to the taxi stand, he looked very confused. I persisted. Finally he resolved that if he checked my boarding pass, no one could complain that he was delinquint in his search. Once past him I still had to navigate my way through three bored, mustachioed guards carrying flint stock riffles, past a two foot high fence and another five feet to the stand. As I approached the guards stood at attention looking to block my way. I pointed towards the taxi stand, slowed my roll and walked right past them. My time in SE taught me to ignore authority whom are typically incapable based on the twin traits of laziness and ineptitude. No harm on this occasion, as the guards twirled their mustache and watched me closely.

Since I'll be here for a couple of months, I wanted to get a sim card right away. I've done this in most of countries I've visited and usually the process takes a total of five minutes at a cost of a couple dollars. Ah technology. In India it's just not that simple. I had been forewarned and showed up with the required documents; copies of passport and visa, several passport photos, bill verifying current residence, signed recommendation from a respected member of the community indicating I am a good person, first locks of my hair, and my original birth certificate. After two plus hours we were just at the point when I would hand the gentlemen three dollars and I would again be connected to the 21st century. Just as I was to taste this freedom, I was denied. Apparently, my hotel bill was not sufficient and they needed to 'verify' my residence. Verification meant calling the number on the bill and asking if in fact I was sleeping there. After three attempts no one answered the telephone. Without voice verification of the hotel manager how could Vodafone ensure that I was staying there? I explained my situation to the phone store. I'm not really living at the hotel (it's gross, I would never live on Sudder street, yuck!), I'm just a traveler. Today I'm in Kolkatta, tomorrow I'll be in Darjeeling, the week after that Delhi, etc. The point is, I'm clearly not living anywhere, just give me the stupid sim card. This approach did not work. With a saddened expression the clerk explained that he understood my itinerant ways, I was both very lucky (to be traveling) and odd (for wanting to), but still he needed to talk with someone. At this point I sheepishly looked at him and asked, "Can't you just say that someone picked up the phone? What difference does it make?" This was quickly rebuffed with a head wave and the following, "I'm sorry sir, but I am not a liar." Oy.

I ran back to my hotel and tried to figure out why no one was answering the stupid phone. The reason being that it was passed six and the only person there was the porter, who in addition to barely knowing English is likely unable to 'operate' a phone. Exasperated, I asked why he wasn't picking up. He just smiled and gave me the Indian Head Nod- think shrugging to one side while smiling and looking vapid. Apparently the Manager would be in the following morning at 11, but maybe later. By this time Vodafone had closed and I had to wait a bit longer for my connection.

I spent the next morning waiting in the dingy lobby of my 'guesthouse' (it really wasn't that accommodating). At eleven one of the staff walked in. When I explained my mobile phone situation he gave me the nod and explained that the manager would be around in an hour, or so. Two hours later, the Manager arrived. I quickly explained the situation that Vodafone needed to verify my address, and that I needed someone to pick up the phone when they called. No problem he said, we're here all day. Great!

I ran back to the store and looked to conclude the transaction. This store is pretty modern and it's located in the nice walking street area of the city. It's also big, with maybe twenty employees working there at a time. They have a nice little queuing arrangement so everything is conducted in a non-Indian, orderly fashion. As I walked in, I noticed two people working and eighteen people loitering. Naturally one of the two was the guy I was working with the evening previous, and I was unable to finish up with another staff member. After waiting for a long, long time, he finally apologized and approached me. "I have the number, let's call this place right now. I WANT MY SIM CARD," I said. No problem he said and dialed the hotel, on the second attempt someone picked up. When asked if I was staying at the hotel, the Manager correctly answered that I had checked out this morning, which was true since I had a night train scheduled. With a pained expression, the staff member looked at me and said he would be unable to complete my request. NO!!!!! I would just have to get my sim card in the next city that I visit. I begged and pleaded but to no avail. After seeing me close to tears, he resolved to ask the store manager what to do. She was engrossed in a telephone conversation that was certainly unrelated to my issue and likely all other business and was deaf to the staff member's queries. After twenty minutes of waiting she finally pointed to some other form, clicked some buttons on the computer, and I was back on track. An hour later, I had a number. Such an ordeal. All in all I think I spent about six hours dealing with this phone nonsense and all for the minor expense of less than five dollars. Apparently, time is not at a premium in this country.