It’s Nov 1 already! The Thornes have been in India for over a month. I had originally intended to update KarnatakaTabbies more frequently, but as I have discovered, not working does not equate to not busy and time slips by. (BTW: Karnataka is not pronounced Karn-a-taka, it is more like Kaar-naaugh-tikkaa, where the a’s are kind of a double a nasally sound). The really good news of this date is that the tabbies are here, our sea shipment is here, and the local bank finally chose to grant us a bank account. So, Allison’s passport is in Delhi as Delhi is the port of entry for the tabbies. As-soon-as-is-possible, the passport needs to come back to Bengaluru for the customs process for the sea shipment and the bank. It seems that when ever someone says they want a copy of the passport, they really mean they need the passport itself.
Our first week was spent getting residency established. If you live here more than 180 days in a year, you must establish residency at the FRO (foreign residency office; the Indians seem to be profuse TLA users). This is a formal process, and all of us (Allison, Jessica, and Larrie) had to appear with passports and a pile of other paper to prove who we were, why we were here, and who was paying the bills. Luckily, our process was facilitated by some very capable young men, and we mostly stood around waiting for when we actually had to match face to passport. The FRO is an old British style colonial building on Infantry Road. Lit by sometimes working florescent lights, and cooled by even less than sometimes working fans, one gets the feeling that upon entry you are transported back in time at least a century and to anywhere in the British equatorial empire., which is a rather interesting awareness to get lost in. There is quite a cross section of the worlds population at the FRO as India, and especially Bengaluru, is a very happening place, and everyone wants to be here. Outside in a marvelous old tree of unknown species was a fruit bat colony, which added to the sensory drama of the place.
FRO papers are very important as no other aspect of a normal life can proceed without them. Once obtained, we were able to partake of a similar process to get our air shipment released for delivery. The process required Allison and myself to go to the new airport (a 90 minute drive one way) for a 5 minute face showing / match to passport. Once that was accomplished, we returned to Palm Meadows (another 90 minutes), and the facilitator spent five hours with the customs folks getting our shipment released for delivery. Once released, it was repacked, loaded onto a lorry for delivery, which arrived at Palm Meadows after the hour that the guards allow lorries on property. So, we reloaded all the stuff into the van and brought it to the house in 2-3 trips. Adaptability is the major skill required to exist here. You cannot allow yourself to get frustrated by what is – you adapt and move on. We save frustration for when we have to deal with events in the US.
A day after we left US, the final payment check from our insurance company was delivered to New Hope. Our friend Crystal retrieved it for us, and I spent the next two weeks trying to get our bank in US to allow it to be deposited into our bank account. It required real signatures; so, at a cost of $120, we had the check shipped to India, where we signed it, and returned it to the US. As of today, the bank is still not accepting the deposit of the check without a bunch more documentation, and I have attempted to escalate our situation to the level where someone at the bank will stop the madness. If I were Charlie Brown, I would look at the sky and shake my fist and shout, “Damn you Homeland Security” as I suspect this is all a result of the tightening of laws post 9/11, and it is a real problem to work through. By the time we get that check deposited, the value of it will have decreased so much due to the economic collapse that it’ll barely cover the cost of getting it deposited. And then there is the sale of the house, for which I am going to save for another days story.
All and all, life here is good. India is a surprising place. I am still searching for the right combination of words to describe what I see and experience. The people we deal with directly are very friendly and accepting of us, and we are adapting to an Indian way of living so as to not intrude into their reality too deeply; although, I do think we amuse them greatly with our strange behaviors.
