Melinda and Sarah Are Not To Be Trusted

March 21

No one believes us. We say it is possible to get internet and they say no. We say it is possible to make a pizza that is half cheese half pepperoni and they tell us it is not possible. Apparently, what is not possible is thinking just a tiny bit outside of the box. Sigh.

We are slowly but surely making progress on getting an internet connection. As you know from the title of my last blog, Melinda and I are learning the “Indian system”. Therefore, we have brought candy or soda every time we’ve been to the BSNL office.  We’ve talked about our families, what we study, and where in India the employees have been on vacation. By our third trip, we realized we needed to bring every official document we possess plus at least 3 passport size photos. (If you’re ever planning to move overseas be sure to bring at least 5 bazillion passport photos. You will need several of them for everything you do.) We brought the original copy of our lease as proof of address, a letter from Jadavpur University stating that I am in fact a student there. (The internet subscription is in my name.) This letter eventually included my full name, (never leave out your middle name!) my passport number, and my visa number.  It was signed and stamped by the director of the Foreign Student Office and included a passport size photo which I pasted on and signed. I brought copies of my passport and visa as well as my actual passport and visa, two passport size photos, and finally, an application for a landline and a broadband connection.  The first problem we encountered was that I failed to tell the secretary to put my middle name in the letter from Jadavpur. There may just be a Sarah Blake and a Sarah Beth Blake wandering around who look identical and live at the same address. But I managed to convince one of the employees that we are in fact the same person.  The second problem was that we failed to include our address in the letter from Jadavpur.  Apparently, the official lease is not convincing proof of address. The ladies of Room 2, who had been helping us thus far, were ready to approve our application but their boss would not accept our letter without the address. We tried to talk some sense into him, but he’s retiring in 2 months and has no desire to do his job anymore.  So, we returned to the Foreign Student Office and asked them to retype the letter to include my middle name and our address. Finally, our application was approved and we were invited to tea in Room 2. As we were leaving BSNL we noticed a sign admonishing people to “Fight to eradicate corruption from our society”. Considering that BSNL has made it as difficult as possible to get internet, refused to do their jobs, and asked our friends for bribes, this sign’s presence in the office makes it the very definition of the word ironic. Incredibly, someone came out the next day with our phone and modem. Now, we are waiting to have our phone line and modem connected. Hopefully, this will be done by the end of the week. 

Today, I went to Vodaphone to put my minutes on my cell. There’s a kiosk where you enter your information and the amount of rupees you want to spend and then it charges your phone. I wanted to put 500 rupees ($11) on my cell. Halfway through the process a doorman comes over and asks what I want. (As a foreigner, I am incapable of doing anything by myself.) I told him. He asked how much I wanted to spend. I told him. He said, “Oh no madam, the machine does not support that.” Yes it does. “No it doesn’t.” I tried to insert my money in spite of him, but blocked the money slot, insisting it wouldn’t work. I said, “Every time I come here I spend the same amount and it always works.” He told me to wait 2 minutes and went to ask someone else if I was right. I was. Finally, I allowed to pay and I showed the doorman the text that proved my phone had been recharged. My goodness, sometimes I wish people had a little faith in me. On the bright side, after we get internet, our house will be completely set up. Yay! 

Also, I recently borrowed an exercise DVD from a friend. It is Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred. I love it. There’s really no place to exercise here except the super expensive workout space in our apartment building and I was starting to feel like all I did was eat and sit. It feels so good to be active again! However, I am super out of shape and I have no hand weights, so instead I use jars of peanut butter. I have to convince myself not to get out a spoon when I’m done. So far, so good though. I am not convinced that Jillian Michaels is “in the same boat” that I am, or that she and her physically perfect friends are really “feeling it”.  Oh well.

Update!

I got my package yesterday! The postman actually delivered it to my flat! It was glorious. Thank you everyone for the cards, birthday gifts, pounds of chocolate and other things. You are amazing and I love you. The postman seems to be very nice. He brought the package once at 11 am, but Melinda and I were "out of station". Imagine, women who leave their home during the day! So, he left a message with the guard in the lobby. When Melinda got there he said, "You're package is coming at 3 p.m. Please, be at home!" At 3 pm, the postman came again. I wasn't there, but Melinda was. When she signed for the package he said, "Melinda Merriman... You are not Sarah Blake." Melinda explained that I live there too, and the postman was like, "Well, sign 'for Sarah Blake'". I don't know if this is normal or we just got lucky. Maybe the post office recognized the address or tracking number and remembered us... It may be that they were just tried of seeing our shining faces in their office or hearing our lovely voices on their phone every single day. In any case, I hope the guy comes again next time. Melinda is expecting a package for her birthday soon...

Melinda and Sarah Learn the "Indian System"

I suppose I should write you and give an update on my flat. I am happy to report that it is mostly repaired, with the exception of the water heater in my bathroom, which I probably won’t need in a few weeks anyway. The bugs have been exterminated, and we have a gas stove, microwave, and toaster oven to cook with. We also have cable television and recently I got curtains that actually fit my windows. As an added bonus, I now wake up to a golden glow created by the sun shining through the yellow fabric. The tv is really loud, even if you have it on volume 1, but that’s ok! The traffic noise in my bedroom blocks the sound from the tv! Our latest adventures have been trying to get internet and a package.

First the internet:

We are trying to get a connection through BSNL, because the server that was previously tried turned out to be horrible. So Melinda, our friend Kayla, and I journeyed down to the office armed with our passports, passport photos, and our lease as proof of address. We presented all our documents, said what we needed, and then a confused looking employee said: “Are you an Indian citizen? Where is your passport or ID?” Um…  I have an American passport? Despite some obvious indicators that we are not, in fact, citizens of India, we were asked repeatedly for Indian passports or ID cards and then they informed us that we cannot get internet unless we are Indian citizens. I know this is not true.  I can think of at least 4 Americans who have internet through BSNL, Kayla, who was present with us at the time, is one of them. Sadly, they could not be persuaded to help us. So, a day or two later, we returned with our Indian friend Antu. When we jokingly asked him how to become Indian citizens, his completely deadpan response was “You have to get married.” So, there you have it. I’m officially on the hunt for an Indian husband so I can get things accomplished in this country. Another Indian in line turned around and said, “You just pay off a local politician. You can get passports, driver’s licenses, IDs, anything.” Even the combined efforts of Antu speaking Bangla and Melinda and I passing out candy in the office could not get us internet. Soon, (hopefully) we will return again with letters from our university stating that we are in fact students there and a notarized copy of our lease. And so, the saga continues…  In the meantime, we did discover wireless in the mall. J

The Post Office:

My wonderful family and friends sent me a package on Valentine’s Day. It is now March 4, so it should be here I think. On March 1, Melinda and I walked to the post office nearest us. It is called Tollygunge HPO. At the time, I didn’t know if my family had a tracking number. So, it was kind of a long shot, but what the heck. Upon arrival, we started asking friendly looking employees for assistance, and of course they asked for a tracking number which I didn’t have and wasn’t sure existed. Eventually we were sent to the office of the post master himself, where we were informed that the post office has no way of knowing if there is a package there for me, and furthermore if they do know, it is not their responsibility to inform me that the package has arrived. Just what exactly the responsibilities of the post office are remains to be seen. I texted my mom and sister and got a tracking number. One of them got online and discovered the package is presently somewhere in India. So, after waiting a day to recover from my first traumatic experience with the post office, I went back and presented my tracking number. I was then told my package was at the Foreign Post Office.  I hailed a taxi and proceeded across town. Not many people know where the Foreign Post Office is because not many Indians have to go there. Thus, the taxi dropped me off at the General Post Office which is nearby. After wandering for a while, I found an entrance to the GPO, and got a lady to write down some directions, which summarized were: Strand Rd opposite New Secretariat Building. At that point I had only three questions: What road am I on? Where is Strand Rd? How far down it is the New Secretariat Building? But the lady didn’t or couldn’t answer these questions, so off I went.  I probably wandered around for about half an hour asking different people for directions, before I heard, in English, “I think she’s lost.” I turned, looked around, and thought, why yes, I am lost. Help. I finally got slightly better directions from a friendly man, which I followed until I randomly stumbled across the tiny, hole in the wall, Foreign Post Office. It pretty much looks like a disorganized stock room with a few computers. There were no signs telling me what to do, and no one offered me any assistance, except a super enthusiastic, toothless, old man who really wanted me to sign in, which I did. I went up the stairs to the first floor, where I saw several people seated at desks behind walls, which were clearly marked NO ADMITTANCE. I tried waiting for someone to help me, but no one did. I find the most effective way to get help here is to blithely stroll into restricted areas. And so I did. And then people rushed to my aid. I was sent to the 2^nd floor where I found much the same situation, and responded exactly as I had before. Finally, I got to office of customer service, a tiny, unmarked room on the 3^rd floor. The man told me my package was at the Tollygunge post office. After, explaining that I had already been there that morning, he called Tollygunge. I was told that the package was on its way but hadn’t arrived yet. I went home called Tollygunge HPO, and they said it was at RMS Kolkata, which as it turns out is Kolkata Railway Mailing System. I’m hoping that the package is on its way to me. As of this afternoon, it still has not left the railway station. At least if I never get it it’s not from lack of trying.

And finally, the quotes of the week:

“Yes, I am the first white-skinned, blond-haired, blue-eyed, American passport holding, Indian citizen EVER!” – Kayla

“You must speak Bangla loudly at home!” – Bangla teacher, Mr. Kumar.