I would like to introduce a new weekly feature here in Snidknits land. Yes, it is FAVORITE PHOTO FRIDAY. I will post a photo that I have taken in the last week that I like. See, I can't post any knitting because... Well, I haven't knitted a stitch since I have started back at school. Yep. That would make showing knitting difficult (although I have been eyeing my incomplete and far-too-warm-for-India Fairisle recently). So... a photo! Okay, wait. How about two? I can't decide! How about this... you tell me which you like best.
Now while those load.. let me tell you what I have been up to.
Monday we had to go to Delhi because we had to renew our visas. Why Delhi? Well, we have to visit the MHA, also known as the Ministry of Home Affairs (Sounds like something out of Harry Potter doesn't it?). We had to be there by 8:30 am. So we arrive, go wait in a room, watch other people arrive and take seats, and then once the appropriate employee arrives we are all told to go "queue". This means everyone gets up, rushes outside and forms a line with no concept of who arrived first being in front. Okay, fine. We get in line and are then ushered back into the building, being handed a number card as we cross the threshold, a number that leads us to our destiny for the day. We had Number 14. We re-take our seats (though different ones this time) and wait for our number to be called.
As we are waiting I can't help wishing that I could comfortably take pictures of all of the faces that surround me. They are surely representative of every corner of the world. I am particularly fascinated by the Afghani man who looks like he could be a brother to my husband. Now I understand why we are so often mistaken for northern Indians. Anyway, we are finally called to the front where we hand over a stack of papers that include multiple copies of every document we have that in some way relates to India. At the top of this the clerk writes "14" and then we are sent off to another building.
Once there we... sit... and wait.
At about 10:30 a woman comes in, sits at a desk and everyone rushes to her desk... so Bryan does the same thing. Who are we to buck tradition after all? He comes back with three pieces of paper. More forms for us to fill out and sign. After filling these out we return the papers, along with the rest of our papers, and then they are attached together and put into a stack, along with a lot of other papers.
Then, we... sit... and wait.
At some point (time becoming a hazy concept at this point) men begin to enter the room, grab stacks of these papers and sit at a desk in an adjoining room. Now at this point I should explain that on the wall in front of us is a sign that indicates a desk number followed by a long listing of countries that will be served from the appointed desk. There may be a connection between the particular countries that are assigned to a particular desk... but I am not sure. It is all a bit vague. Next to this sign there is board which lists the numbers 1-6 followed by a blank area that could be lit up. You know, something like what they would have in a US DMV to call you to the appropriate desk, well- except that now they are computer screens. Anyway, you get the idea. So, we assumed that when it was time for us to go up that our number would be displayed in the appropriate place there. Yeah, well, no. No, they will instead call out our number from the desk and everyone has to stand in such a place that they can hear and understand what is being said. There were quite a number of people who missed being called. Now, remember that number? Number 14? So, we should be at the top of the pile, right? I don't think I need to tell you. No such luck. It was just a pile of papers with no numeric order to it. We were finally called though some hours later, at which point the clerk looked at the papers and said to come back at 5:00 pm.
We are free!
I haven't really spent any time in Delhi before, just driven through on the way to the airport from Agra. We had heard from some friends that there was a place called Khan Market nearby to the MHA, so we headed there to have some lunch and wander around a bit. Wow. It was a bit different from Bangalore! First, I saw more foreigners wandering around... we don't often see so many in one place in Bangalore (unless it is a specifically expat function or at a hotel), and then I noticed something else. All of the Indian women were wearing Western clothing. Very strange. In Bangalore, the vast majority of women wear Saree's or Salwar Kameez. So, it is a bit different. There was also far fewer people out on the streets and very little traffic as compared to just about any area in Bangalore. It is possible that it had something to do with where we were in Delhi- not sure. This was the only place we had time to see because it was soon time to get back!
Back at the MHA. Sitting... and waiting. Finally we are called and are handed...
the envelope.
What's in the envelope? No clue. It is sealed and this is why we come all the way to Delhi. To get this and take it back to Bangalore where we are to hand it over to the Police Commissioner at the FRO (Foreign Registration Office). That's it. We get into our taxi and go to the airport. Day is done.
Repeat the mantra after me... "I love India, I love India, I love India...."
3 comments:
That should be required reading for anyone moving to India. It sounds like you did great, I am surprised nobody was with you two to guide you through. wow. that part where it didn't matter how early you arrived, just suddenly you have to rush and form a line - I find that so frustrating. And it is what it is, no real point in getting upset.
I guess you always carry a book there, eh? Or I would!
I like the kid photo better - the man waving is fun but he's more self-aware that he's in a photo...
I like the kid too, but then I'm a sucker for kids. The man on the scaffolding (they were just recently done building it) is typical of the construction workers around the area. But I agree with Maya, it looks sort of posed.
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