Searched for ""

An Inspiring, True Story of One Man Against the Odds

I’m sat in the immigration office in Chennai and writing this post, waiting for the office boy to deliver some paper work to me.

It’s a shame to see the wheels of Indian bureaucracy are still rusted together.

An Indian friend once told me that 80% of taxes in India go on paying for govt staff and govt pensions. If you visit any Indian govt office, you can well believe it.

The confusion starts from the moment you enter the grounds of the offices, which doubles as the passport office and loads of smaller ministry offices. The only way to find out where to go is to ask someone. Signs and maps would be expecting too much.

You then find the right office, down a small side street and a notice says welcome to hell. Or bureau of immigration, it depends which way you look at it.

There is a man sitting behind the most ridiculously small desk and he silently waves you to a guy standing nearby. This new guy waves you to a line of seats. You look around and guy #3 points to a seat you should take.

Every few minutes another soul enters the gates of hell and you all shuffle along, under the direction of guy #3.

It turns out that guy #3’s job also involves preventing any Indians coming in to the office.

So, you finally get back to guy #1 behind the desk and he takes a note of your passport number and the reason why you dare interrupt them in their important jobs. No doubt it’s the job of someone else to enter this data on a typewriter and then for a superior to enter it in a computer.

Guy #1 then allows you in to the office (guy #4, who’s guarding the entrance moves aside) and tells you to go to office one. You get directed by guy #5 to take a seat and the whole shuffling process starts again, under the direction of guy #6.

Standing outside office one is guy #7. When a door bell rings, it’s his job to wave the next foreigner in line in to the office. You don’t see the previous foreigner come out of the office.

So now you are dealing with your 2nd guy behind a desk, and guy #8 overall. He goes through your paperwork, desperate to find a mistake or missing piece of paper. He went through mine 3 times before, to his absolute delight, he found one of my request letters was addressed to ‘whom it may concern’ instead of the ‘frro officer’.

Once they find a mistake, that’s it. The whole process comes to a stop. You are ordered to bring back the proper paperwork and he won’t look at anything else or give you any more information until it’s corrected.

So, you bring back the corrected paperwork and with great reluctance guy #8 concedes that your paperwork is adequate for the next stage and you are directed to your third desk.

Enter guy #9 to direct you to your seats and guy #10 to show you to the desk (which is almost 4ft from where you are sitting). The seat shuffling continues.

This time a lady goes through your paper work and agrees, like her colleague, that it is barely adequate. She then asks you for Rs 20,000 for the registration fee, which is fine because you took 40k, just to be safe.

She watches you like a hawk as you count out 20 1k bills. Then with absolute glee in her eyes, she tells you that they no longer accept cash. Yes, I was prepared for this too and brought out my cheque book. No, she says, we only accept bankers drafts now.

So I am now sat here writing this. I phoned my company and told them the details. It absolutely must get here by 12.30 I said, otherwise i have to wait until tomorrow. No problem, it will be there, they promised.

It’s now 12.45 and I am still waiting. Don’t know what will happen, but i’m hoping i can still make the payment.

Continued…

The lady scrutinizes the bank draft hoping for some problems. I am now the only person left in the office.

I’m given a token and told to wait for my number to come up. Guy #12 shows me to a new room, guy #13 to show me where to sit. The room is empty.

Eventually the counter staff (girl #2) notices I’m waiting. A difficult task in an empty room, to be sure. Eye contact is made, I can go over.

But wait, she raises a hand to tell me to stop. A button has to be pressed first.

“Counter number two please” says the recorded voice. And her counter light flashes.

There is not a flicker of embarrassment on her face.

I may now go over.

Once more, the paper work is checked, double checked, triple checked and then again, just because.

“aha!” she exclaims “you need two copies of all these documents.”

“Behold” I replied and pulled out 3 more copies of all the paper work, flourishing them in the air.

It was evident that I had robbed her of a simply joy as she ruffles through the paper work again. Oh dear. The original registration permit is not here. It’s not mentioned in the list of required paperwork given to me on the first visit, but no matter. How dare I try and beat the system by turning up with all the correct paperwork and correct number of copies.

Another call to the office. Send more documents! Within 10 minutes it’s in my hand, but hell, err Bureau of Immigration has a final sting in the tail. The counter lady has gone for lunch. Please wait for an hour.

Really Stupid Things To Do – Part 533

Damnit!

Of all the stupid things to do, this one probably doesn’t rank up there as one of them, (for a list of the most stupid things to do, these guys take the crown). But on a list of really annoying things to do, this has to be right up there.

This afternoon I had a total brainfart (possibly due to the incredible amounts of caffeine I drank earlier) and managed to put my mobile phone in the washing machine. I now have one very clean, but one very broken mobile phone.

Please don’t tell anyone 🙁

Row, Row, Row Your Boat!

I took this video this morning as I was travelling to work. The recent monsoon rains turned the streets in to rivers, but a little rain never stopped the enterprising citizens of Chennai as they plough head long in to fast flowing rivers!

Why Mac’s Don’t Cut It In Business

Sad Mac Strikes Again

OK, so I was using Apple Macs before they were cool. I even had my very own Performa 630. I grinned and beared when my mates were playing the latest, coolest games and I had, umm, snake? For a few years I was the typical mac fan boy, before anyone had even heard of macs and way before it was ‘cool’ to like them. We’re talking the mid-90’s here.

Anyways. I grew up. I moved on. The Performa was retired to the rubbish tip (33 MHz and 8mb RAM only cuts it for so long, and besides, Snake II was out and needed more power). I got a PC.

And guess what? It did everything that the Mac did. And it played Half Life, Championship Manager and FIFA.

So, it left me thinking, what can a Mac do that a PC can’t.

Fast forward to 2008. My boss is where I was 10 years back. A Mac fanboy, blinded by Steve Job’s polo neck jumpers. He uses a Mac because, well, it’s just cool, isn’t it? With absolutely no logical reason to use a Mac, he insists it can do things that the PC can’t.

Like the ability to be used for…business?

At the weekend we had a large business meeting at the hotel. Aravind was waxing lyrical about his presentation that he was producing in Keynote and how it blew the pants off my Power Point Presentation.

Long story short. What happened when we got to the meeting? The ‘business ready’ Mac was unable to connect to the projector because it didn’t have the right cable port!

PC – 1
Mac’s – 0

(my fullest apologies to the site I ripped the image from. Google Images. What an inspired idea!)

India Isn’t Just A Different Country…

…It has a different way of thinking.

So often things happen in India, and it just makes me wonder “what was going through your mind when you were doing that”. For example, standing on the roof of a building and using a pneumatic drill to dismantle the roof.

Granted, stupidity isn’t confined to a single country as the Darwin awards attest to.

Anyways, another classic example of how Indians think differently was demonstrated on Sunday when, not for the first time, I was nearly ran over by a family on a motorbike.

As I walked to the shops to do my weekly shopping, I walk down a very quiet road. If there are two cars on the road, that’s a bit unusual.

Still, TII, you have to be constantly aware of what’s going on around you because the traffic can come from anywhere. Yes, really anywhere. You can’t walk on the pavements because a) there are no pavements b) the pavement is now someone’s home or area of business c) the pavement is covered by building material for the apartment that’s being build across the road d) the state of the pavement makes it more dangerous than walking on the road.

As a kid in England, from the moment you start school you are given lessons and made to watch videos on the simple task of crossing the road.

STOP

LOOK

LISTEN

Is carved in to your very being as the message is repeated over and over.

This from a country where people obey the traffic lights, there are pedestrian crossings every where and towns and cities are more people friendly than car friendly.

So, armed with my A+ in how to cross a road I approached a crossing on Sunday. I stopped, I looked and saw a motorbike coming, So I stood at the side of the road and waiting for it to pass.

Except….yes.

This Is India.

Instead of carrying on as he should have done, the motor bike started veering towards me, until the guy was virtually slowed to a halt as he tried to avoid me. I looked at the guy, looked at the otherwise empty cross roads and was speechless.

Similarly, the guy on the motorbike was similarly speechless.

And this is why.

When you cross a road in India, the traffic swerves to (hopefully) avoid you. Crossing the road is not a case of Stop, Look, Listen and Wait. It’s a case of putting one arm out to the side of you with your palm facing up telling the traffic to avoid you. You then walk across the road without looking and definitely without stopping.

So, why was this guy speechless? He was expecting me to do the ‘usual’ thing and carry on walking, and he had already made the mental adjustment to be in a place I wouldn’t be had I carried on walking.

Different country. Different way of thinking.

Check Out My Wheels!

my wheels for getting around in Chennai

Check out this bad boy! These are my wheels to and from the office each day. It does 0-20 mph in 2 minutes, pollutes like a chemical factory and sounds like a cat in a blender. It has almost as much power as a washing machine and 4 inch alloys.

This is the pimped out version, the banana leaves stuck to the side are this seasons must have for all self respecting tuk-tuk drivers. As if a white man in a tuk-tuk needs any more attention drawn to himself while riding through the mean streets of Chennai!

To the right is my usual driver, Sundar. He has an excuse for every occasion: too much traffic, too less traffic, too raining, too less raining, 5 kids, 3 kids, 4 kids and parents, family dog, family cow, high petrol prices, low petrol prices, too late, too early, too far, too less far. No matter what, he’ll rise to the occasion and find a reason to charge me extra. It’s a special class they have in tuk-tuk school: how to charge the filthy rich foreigner more and make him feel guilty about it.

But what a way to get to work and back 😀

What My Mum Thought About India

A few weeks back, my Mum came to visit me in India. What did she think about it? Her thoughts? This is what she sent me below…

Some observations from my trip to India:

  • All the stray dogs look the same – is there only one breed of dogs in India?
  • I couldn’t believe that there are still people drawing water from pumps in the street
  • You don’t see young couple out together or on dates – pre-marriage courtship is not part of the culture
  • Toilets – what the bucket, jug and hosepipe all about
  • I only saw 2 women car drivers in Chennai
  • Hugging and hand-shaking is a no-no
  • Families of 3 or 4 on a motor bike – scary
  • Education is very important from an early age
  • Crime rates appear to be low – may have something to do with lack of available alcohol
  • There are no pubs or bars as in European cities just for drinking although you can buy alcohol in hotels and restaurants
  • Lots of things taste sweet which shouldn’t, like milk, bread, tea and cereals – they love sugar

What I missed from home:

  • Being able to clean my teeth with tap water
  • Carpet especially in the bedroom
  • Soft mattresses and a duvet
  • Bread, milk and tea without sugar
  • Quietness especially at night
  • Radio 2
  • Variations in daily weather
  • Mosquito free bedrooms
  • Windows you can see out of instead of being fitted with bars, frosted glass and AC units
  • Just paying for things without bartering

What I miss about India:

  • The sunshine and warmth
  • The delicious and varied food
  • The friendliness of everyone I met
  • The respect and warm welcome I was given
  • The colours – clothes, food, shops all so vivid and bright
  • Learning about different cultures
  • Seeing goats and cows wandering the streets untethered
  • Watching children on the streets amuse themselves for hours without PSP, X-Boxes or Wii’s – just sand, sticks, balls, old tyres and scaffolding!
  • The tranquility and simple life of the backwaters in Kerala
  • The spectacular sunsets in Goa
  • The cost of living!

Dude, Where’s My Monsoon?

It’s Monsoon season here in Tamil Nadu. Except the monsoon rains are conspicuously missing (useless geekish fact #394: the word monsoon refers to the weather pattern, not the actual rain that occurs during the monsoon).

When I was here in 2006, the monsoon season started as soon as I arrived and finished the moment I left. It’s quite incredible, one day it’s fine, hot and sunny, then next day it rains. Non-stop. For 3 months.

One of the things I wasn’t looking forward to when I came here was the monsoon because the rain just makes it really difficult to get around if you don’t have your own transport. Trying to get a tuk-tuk is a mission at the best of times, trying to do that when it’s bucketing it down with rain that’s already up to your armpits is nigh on impossible.

The whole of Chennai turns in to something like the Venice of India, streets are turned in to rivers, there’s mud every where, you can’t go outside because you’ll drown in the wall of water.

So, although I’m sure it’s some global warming catastrophe and the lack of monsoon is doing untold damage to the local farming industry, for me, it’s brilliant. The longer the rains stay away, the easier it is for me to get to the office and back, do my food shopping at the weekend and generally go out and about.

Infact, I’m selfishly hoping that this is the year where it doesn’t rain.

Oh bugger.

It’s just started raining 🙁

What do you want to know about India?

National Flag of IndiaI’ve been going through a bit of a dry patch recently, trying to come up with some inspiration on things to write about on my blog. Days are whizzing by, months are coming and going, pretty soon I’ll be going home for Christmas…and I’ve only been in India since last week, or at least, that’s what it feels like.

So, I’m going to open the blog to you.

What do you want to know about India?

You’ve seen it on the news, you’ve heard about all the jobs being outsourced to India, so what questions do you have?

Want to know about the food? The weather (one for the Brits!)? The lifestyle?

You can leave a comment on this blog asking your question, you can email me at peterclaridge@gmail.com or you can shoot me a message on Facebook.

We’ll see how it goes, I’m wondering if I’ll even get a single question 🙂

Diamonds in the rough?

I have often posted about how bad the tuk tuk drivers are here in Chennai. They see the white skin and little dollar signs flash in their eyes. A journey that should cost Rs 80 to a local will cost Rs 150 for a foreigner – as if we’re all made of money. Yeah, right!

There are some ways of dealing with the drivers, but they will use every excuse under the sun to try and charge you more; time of day, traffic, one way system, it’s 100 metres from the landmark you said, raining, sick child, 4 kids and well, any other excuse he can think of and tell you about in English.

If you catch tuk tuks everyday like I do to get to work and back, it’s pretty tiresome as you try and explain where you want to go (MAN-DA-VELLI!) and then bring the price down to a sensible amount. My number one expense at the moment (after umm, beer) is travelling around.

Anyways, a couple of things happened to me this week that made me think, maybe not all the tuk tuk drivers are that bad.

Outside my apartment is an informal stop for autos (the local word for tuk tuks). All the drivers know me now and we’ve settled on the inflated price of Rs 90 per journey. No need to bargain or explain where to go. A win-win situation all-round.

The other day there were no tuk tuks outside so I have to walk about 300m or so to the main road and find one. 300m doesn’t sound that far, but in 35 degree heat it doesn’t take much to get the sweat pouring off you! As I was walking down, one of the regular drivers stopped and said he was picking up his children from school and that I should get in. So I did.

What came next was a little suprising, he drives down to the main road, finds another tuk tuk driver, tells him where to drop me and how much to charge – brilliant stuff!

Then today, as I was walking back down the same road carrying two bags of heavy food shopping, another one of the regular drivers pulled up along side me and ushered me to get in. I then got dropped off outside my apartment and he waved me away when I offered him some money. Amazing!

So, not all tuk tuk drivers are thieving little badgers after all 🙂