If you asked me to describe India in just one word, one of the words floating through my head would be “inefficiency”. I’m not trying to be mean, this has just been my experience on many occasions. In order to visit India as a foreigner, you need to register with the police when you arrive within 14 days if your visa is for longer than 180 days. Most of ours were not for this long so we didn’t register originally. Then they changed the rules. So about three weeks before we’re leaving the country, we have to go through registration. Oh and you’re not allowed to leave India unless you have the proper registration documents. Like they actually won’t let you leave.
So we go to the local police office to fill out paperwork. Then we go to the police commissioner’s office to fill out more paperwork. During this visit, I went to about six or seven different desks and stations each about 3-5 times. It was like a Monty Python skit. They wanted to know why I was late, then my advisor had to explain, then we had to pay a late fee, then we had to start over once the late fee was paid. They not only entered our information into the computer, but then they scanned our documents into the computer as well. Why do you need that many copies of my information? In addition to the process being beyond complicated and illogical, no one understands the concept of a line in India. I had so many people shoving me out of their way and throwing their papers into the hands of the officers at different stations. I finally snapped at one woman. She was Iranian, a few years older than myself, and she pushed herself in front of me. Excuse me, I said. She tried to clarify, “Oh no no, I was here before. This is my second time with him (the officer).” Oh yeah? Well this is my fifth time with him. Move. The commissioner’s office is where niceties go to die.
After being the first in my group to finish, I go in the hallway to sit and wait. It smells bad so I look up and look across the hall to find myself staring into the door-less men’s bathroom that clearly hasn’t been cleaned in months. Lovely. So I go outside to wait only to get yelled at by the officers. It was one of those “Keep off the grass!” moments, except all I wanted was some fresh air. I didn’t even want to stand on their nice grass. The list of arbitrary rules in this country is endless.
We’re finally able to leave that day and they tell us to come back on December 7th at 4pm. Great, this will be easy. We will go in with our passports, pick up our documents and leave. Oh, if only. I go on December 7th (Friday) and they tell me my documents are not ready yet, come back on Tuesday. Are you sure they’ll be ready on Tuesday? You told me they’d be ready today. Oh yes, Madam, ready on Tuesday. Okay...
I return on Tuesday and of course they are not ready yet. I’m told they’ll be ready by 6pm and it’s 430pm at the time. Sir, I don’t have 1.5 hours to sit here and wait for you to feel like doing your job. If I come back tomorrow, will they be ready? Oh yes, of course. I’d like to pause here to point out that the rickshaw ride to and from the commissioner’s office is between Rs 50-70 so it starts to add up when you have to go every single day.
I return this afternoon around 5pm and what do you know? They’re not ready. I almost began bashing my head against the wall. I was speechless. And India is not a place where you can just ask for the supervisor. Nobody cares if you are happy or not. They tell us to wait 15 minutes, they’ll do it now. Are you sure? I have to be somewhere at 6pm. Yes, we’re doing it now. Okay... 15 minutes later I go to check in on him. Yes, we’re doing it now. 15 minutes. ... 15 minutes later I go to check on him again. I get pointed to a woman who walks away with our documents but we can’t have them yet. First they must be scanned. I literally follow this woman around the office for the next 20 minutes because I don’t want to lose sight of our documents. Finally, she has a packet of about 15 people’s documents and she makes us actually stand in a line while she has each of us come up, get our documents, and sign for them. An hour later, we’re done and able to leave.
I have never felt so relieved. Leaving that office, I felt extreme joy. Not only was I finished with the most painful example of bureaucracy yet, but I am also now allowed to leave the country. Almost exactly one week left!
xo A
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