In India, there is a law that reads something to the extent of "If you are here on an employment or student visa and you will be here for more than 6 months, you have to register with the foreign regional registration office within 14 days of entering the country".
Since I arrived 2 weeks (yes, 14 days) ago, we have been on the ground running, trying to take advantage of as many work things as possible. The FRRO had to happen, but we knew we had time. So last week my coworker and I went online and downloaded the list of required documents so that when my boss returned from traveling he could sign them and we would be all ready to go. We were lucky, too, because the office was listed as just down the lane from our office.
So when the big guy returned, he signed the documents and we hopped in the car to the office of the Police Commissioner...what do you know, there was a sign in the office that said, "FRRO moved to Double Road, Indira Nagar". Should this be a surprise? No, but for some reason we assumed that everything would be as they told us. So we got back into the car and drove across the city in lunchtime traffic to Double Road, where they would admit only me, the one with the passport. I stood in line, got my token, and was informed that the application I had wasn't correct and the one I was to fill out was actually from 1999 and had been photocopied about 1,200 times so the font was so blurry it couldn't even be read. Not only that, but I was given a list of even MORE documents that were needed...luckily I had a few days left before I hit day 14!
This list included some crazy things - like proof of a PAN card. But to apply for a PAN card, you need a bank account...and to apply for a bank account, you need a PAN card. Oy vey. Over the next few days I spent a LOT of time in our accountant's office, because they could pull strings for us to get all the logistics done. Each time we repeated the list of what we needed and by which date, and on Saturday they assured me that I would have my PAN acknowledgement and a photocopy of the ID card of the man who is leasing my apartment. She said, "I will call you and let you know what time to come on Monday."
So here we are on Monday. It is 10:30 and I haven't heard from her yet. I gave her a call, and she said, "Oh, I am glad you called. I need just a few more signatures - can you come?" I came. I was brought back to the bank, signed a few more things, and congratulations! I had a bank account and could apply for my PAN card. She said, ok madam you are finished. I said, "No - I need the acknowledgement of the PAN and I need that photo ID - you said both would be here this morning."
She said, "Madam, didn't he talk to you on Saturday? We don't have a copy of the photo id because it was all given in hard copy and submitted - we don't have any copies." PROBLEM: this guy is in Turkey. The rest of his family is around the globe. Most are in countries where it is 1am. We can't reach anyone - what do we do? After some panicking, we found an "if/or" clause and prayed that it would provide the loophole we needed.
As for the PAN acknowledgement, she sent her guy to go submit it to the office. We waited 45 minutes, had some delicious coffee (I will miss that coffee, but I will not miss the CA's office!), and then realized that the guy didn't bring his phone. We needed to leave by 1 at the latest...it was 1230. So, she sent another guy to find that guy, and he reported that the first guy decided to go to an office further away because the office he went to first had a ridiculous wait. We decided to leave. She typed an official letter saying that we had applied so that at least we had SOMETHING. This got her yelled at by her boss...for like 15 minutes while I sat avoiding eye contact with every Indian in the room looking at me and thinking "Who the heck is this white girl and what kind of problems is she causing?" Finally, we got the letter. We ran out of the office. She promised to email it the acknowledgement as soon as she got it.
We drove like crazies to Indira Nagar - if we didn't make it by 2, I couldn't register. This would increase my chances of deportation, which isn't ideal.
Got in at 1:40. I took my number....229. They were on 180. Awesome....50 to go. After 20 minutes, my phone vibrated. The PAN had come! Suma texted...and went to get copies printed (she had her own issues there, but that would just increase my already long story) and handed them off to me in front of the office. Finally - my application is complete.
I realized that I was not waiting in the right area, so I climbed the stairs to a (thankfully) air conditioned room full of weary looking expatriates. I asked a blonde one what I was supposed to do: go to counter 1. I went...and was informed that it was lunchtime and services would resume when they were finished. Of course.
Once lunch was finished, I was the 3rd in line to submit my documents for approval. The man looked over everything, and with a sigh of relief watched him check off every requirement (even as the couple next to me was asked for a photo id of the leaser). But then he started counting dates on the calendar. and again. and again. And he said, 14 days, madam. I said yes sir, today is exactly 2 weeks since I arrived. 14 days. He counted again. It has been 15 madam. You arrived in New Delhi at 4pm and you must register 14 days. We argued for a bit...but to no avail. Now before you wonder if I was going to be deported, worry not. He gave me a piece of paper and a pen and said, "Write a letter." A letter of apology that I had not registered before. I needed a few special signatures, and I was sent to the next counter.
And then another counter.
At this counter, she did many things. Double checked my passport, went through my document yet again. Then wrote on a piece of paper and said, "Go to the bank. Get a DD. Bring it back to me." I said, "What is a DD?" She said, "They will know."
I ran down the stairs and out into the street. It was starting to drizzle. Where is a bank? I asked the guard. He motioned down the street and said there was one on the left at the next signal. I reached the next signal - the rain is harder - and there was no bank. So I started asking on the street, continuing towards the next signal and the next (thankful I was dressed like an Indian today so I could wrap my dupatta around my head and shoulders to keep myself a bit dry). Finally, a foreign bank. I gave them the slip, paid them the money, had to get signatures from every desk in the building, and headed back outside.
It was monsooning.
I made a run for it, but before long I had to take shelter. It really wasn't worth it. So for 35 minutes, a shared a small thing with a roof (I really don't know what it was) with two men, a woman, 3 children, and 2 dogs. I kept thinking, it will stop in 5 minutes. I called Suma after a while and she said, "Don't get drenched - it will stop in 5 minutes" I said, that's what I've been telling myself for the past 20 minutes ;)
I absolutely love getting caught in monsoons. It's one of my favorite things about India. Even today, I just stood and soaked it in (no pun intended). I had my iphone and kept trying to capture the feeling of monsoon but nothing I caught does it justice. Here is one snap, though:
Finally, it let up enough to run. So I made it back to the FRRO, dripping wet, and had to show my passport yet again. "They have all my documents upstairs" I explained. "DD? You need a photocopy" They told me.
Awesome.
Thankfully, I could make copies next door. Which means I gave the man the DD (I still don't know what that is, by the way) and 2 rupees and he put the paper in the Xerox machine for me...and it was so old it took about 4 minutes to make a copy :) Only in India.
I went back, stood in line again, and was sent to a different counter to give a man the DD. He took it and sent me back the other counter, where I gave the photocopy. She said ok, please sit and wait. I will call you. So I sat.
By this time, they were almost on token #229.
She called me and handed me a paper. Please check this, she said, but sit, don't check it here. I checked it for inconsistencies, and stood up, waited in line, and gave it back to her. She looked, and gave it back to me.
"Okay, madam."
"Oh - I am finished?"
"Yes, madam."
"This paper is my registration"
"Yes, madam."
So there it is, the whole saga. If you have ever complained about the DMV, I invite you to try immigrating. I know that other people have to go through a lot more in order to immigrate, and I am thankful that mine was just inefficient and time-consuming (although sometimes I felt like I was on the Amazing Race).
However, that doesn't mean that we didn't celebrate with Cornerhouse hot chocolate fudge sundaes. And it doesn't mean that I'm not exhausted.
Can't wait to do it again in 6 months!
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