Freak

 

Many of you witnessed my rather unpleasant, unsightly, and unflattering return-trip-freak-out, and for that I am sorry (Poor Jenny even fed me coffee while I was talking about it. I was tweaking on stress and caffeine). To fill you all in, one week before our return flight I checked my email only to see a distressing email from the third-party that handles US-India Visas. I have a valid one-year, multiple-entry, Indian Travel Visa. Anyway, this email told of the new and sweeping policy on foreigners re-entering India on Travel Visas; those wishing to re-enter must be out of the country for two solid months before they will be allowed back in. The problem was, I'd only been out one month. Oh yeah, Charles was unaffected by this because he's in on a Work Visa. We had to decide whether to just go for it, knowing that the black and white of it was on our side (I am a true tourist and the Indian government has an amendment to the new rules stating that actual tourists are unaffected by this so India's tourism revenue isn't jeopardized. Plus, I'd only been in country for 60 days. I guess anything over 180 days means you actually do have to do the two month sit-out), or do we reschedule my flight for a month later. It would have been 6 weeks really; that was the first ticket back we could find that wasn't $5,000. The problem is, this is India. Anything could happen.

 

The policy change is all due to the unfortunate events of 11.26, a terrorist bombing in Mumbai last year that lasted 3 days and killed over 160 people. One of the bombers had dual Afghani and US passports, and was in India on a US issued Indian Travel Visa, just like mine. The new rules were totally reactionary and don't address the real problem; the poor screening process to obtain an Indian Travel Visa, and terrorism in general (duh, Kim). The Indian government thinks that if foreigners are out of the country for two months or longer, our dastardly terrorist plots will be thwarted. Ok, if I were evil, don't you think I'd just coach my minions to continue my work while I chill abroad? What do I know.

 

My freak-out came when we had to decide to go for it or wait. I know it doesn't sound like a big difference, but basically we had to decide "does Kim chill out and do nothing in Minneapolis for an extra 6 weeks to play it safe, or do we chance it, whatever the ramifications, so she can continue to do nothing in India while Charles works." I'm unemployed (FYI, I prefer "on leave." It sounds better, and temporary, which it is) and under stimulated, for sure, but it seems more productive when I'm in India because I get to at least be Charles' hausfrau and experience the culture. It feels a bit more purposeful. Not to mention, I kind of like Charles and it would be really hard to be away from him for so long. Our worst case scenario was that I get to Bangalore after a 30 hour commute, a middle-management Immigration officer who barely speaks English sees "Travel Visa" in my passport and denies my re-entry, I sit in the airport for 2 days until the next flight, and then fly home on a very expensive last-minute ticket. It was stressful. We even discussed the possibility of this being IT if the return flight was too expensive. Charles can't afford to keep flying me around the world, so I'd be grounded in Minneapolis. That's it; it's over. That was my biggest fear, the possibility that I'd altered my life for a full year only to be in India for 2 months. It made me feel like I was gonna puke. We got legal counsel from SUPERVALU, but the lawyer could only give us a 50/50 chance (Mom, I lied when I told you it was a "sure thing." You already don't sleep enough.). What the SUPERVALU lady did give me was confidence. She armed me with 24 hour phone numbers to the law firm they work with here in India, copies of the new laws highlighted with my exemptions and the legality of my re-entry, and some tips on what to say or not say when I made it to the Immigration checkpoint.

 

After our killer flights, it was time to see where I stood. Those of you who know me can testify to my neck being my stress barometer. When I'm pissed, stressed, nervous, or drunk, my neck gets red blotches. So a tired, stress-sweating, splotchy necked Kim walks up to the Immigration officer, hoping for the best. Obviously I'm here and this is anti-climactic, but those 3 minutes talking to the Immigration officer were the longest 3 minutes of my life. He DID see Travel Visa and noted my one month absence, but was satisfied with my verbally diuretic answer to, "Where will you travel here?" Kim: "DelhiAgraChennaiGoaKeralaPondicherryMumbaiMangaloreHyderbad. Thank you."