In the United States, we find ourselves debating politics over an iced mocha made with water that doesn't require a good boiling prior; we most often cross crosswalks without wondering if the car that just passed will suddenly start speeding backwards into you; we enjoy the luxury of wearing sandals without the worry that we might step in poo on the side of the road if we aren't careful. Sure there is stupid in the US. I've seen it. I've even been there. Americans still piss in public, but we have paved roads and concrete gutters to collect said liquid and reroute it to our excellent sewage systems that probably dump the excrement into pipes that end in Malaysia. We are just that awesome.
You don't really start thinking and even appreciating these small conveniences of Western life until you begin traveling or attempt to live in a Third World country. You will still see the same old day-to-day stupid minus the modern plumbing, but this concept extends further to those the govern the country themselves. In Nairobi, the government just miraculous decided literally overnight that smoking was to be banned in all the city proper except two roped off areas. Literally, roped off. It wasn't even a rope, it was more of a ratty twine that was tied around trees with spray painted signs that said "smoking area". WTF? Then in Nepal, I showed up for my 12pm flight only to find out at the airport checkin counter that my flight was rescheduled to 9am. WTF?
But nothing tops this experience more than my dealings with the Indian Consulate right here in fabulous America. Unbeknownst to me, the bigwigs up in New Delhi just woke up one morning and declared that all tourists wishing to enter their damn country require to furnish a copy of their birth certificate for visa processing. Damn son. I wouldn't even need a copy of my birth certificate to repair a ruptured appendix sans insurance so why would I need one to enter a country where traffic goes 100 times slower due to major "cow" blockage? Well I guess it was because of the Mumbai bombings and wanted to ensure that my Indian -Hindu name, is in fact, Indian-Hindu. Ok, fair enough. I will tolerate such great demands.
So I have a copy of my birth certificate at hand. Then I came across another conundrum. NRIs are supposed to apply for a SPECIAL visa with LONGER processing time and that is MORE expensive than the standard "tourist" visa for basically white people. Wasn't the terrorist that bombed Mumbai PRETENDING to be WHITE so shouldn't white travelers to India be the ones under greater scrutiny? Nope not to those Rajas in New Delhi. It is the American-born Indians that they're after with all there coconut-like qualities and perfect English. They are the ones to pay for their misfortunes with a visa fee $50 more than its counterpart. So while other future traveler's to India can get a 5 or 10 year Tourist visa to India, I'm stuck with just a small possibility of getting a 5 year visa. I hung my head down, ashamed of being Indian for the 5th time that day, signed the damn papers and sent off my money, passports, and dignity to the Indian consulate.
Then I get an email from RAJ at the Consulate asking me to furnish my parent's birth certificates and my grandparent's Indian passport information. WTF? Damn son, the last time I was ever asked to provide copies of my parent's birth certificates was well... never. And grandparent's passports? Would there have been a passport issuing agency within my grandparents' vicinity in rural India in the 1930s? THEY DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THEIR BIRTHDAYS WERE. In fact my grandmother just called me a few months ago to ask if I KNEW. So here I am. Close to giving up because this is almost too much bullshit to deal because I feel like I'm in India already. I'm going to start to boil my water and brush my teeth with it for the full effect of what it feels like to be living and dying as an Indian American rejected by her own mother country.
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