You might think I learned to follow the rules, or that the Indian bureaucratic system was embroiled into a complete mess.. or possibly I could have learned that the best thing to do when entangled in these webs was to listen carefully and totally follow what is suggested in every moment.
But actually .. yes some of those things are true.. but what I really learned was that my ego was still alive and well.
I am reading the Autobiography of a Yogi – for the second time – and last night I read: “The hard core of human egoism is hardly to be dislodged except rudely.” That brought about a large ‘ah ha’ from me.
So to give you a little background. What’s this all about? Of course if you are like lots of my friends you will already know much of the story from facebook.. that ever present monster of personal information that seems to know more about us that our own families! But perhaps you are not a ‘follower’ or friend there.. so I shall begin a little earlier.
At the Lonavala Police Station
Mid January I had the misfortune of having my handbag with all its personal traveller contents stolen ..the things that distressed me most at the time were my sunglasses – that I had used for more than twenty years, my beautiful wallet bought some ten years back in Hong Kong and of course my passports (x2) old and new.. with visa and stamps required.
But the Australian embassy came to the fore and helped me immensely providing an emergency passport and a letter requesting the local authorities in Hubli to provide an Exit Visa for me.. and here is where it all began to go very wrong.
On my return to Hubli from Mumbai, I duly attended the local Foreigner Registration Office – the Police Commissioner Building. The man in charge of such things took a stance of “I am an authority, I am a man and I am Indian” You are no-one – a foreigner, and even worse a woman – and an old one at that. After a tirade directed not at me but at the young man who accompanied me – the upshot of all the yelling was that as I was not registered there, he could not give me an exit visa and anyway I didn’t need one. Mistake no 1. I was upset with him also.. humph .. went my ego.. “I believe in women’s rights, India is so far behind in this matter. This man is a pumped up little official”..and I was mad at him. Here was I .. doing my noble social work.. and he – simply a male chauvinist and Indian to boot. I went away and dropped the ball.
Three weeks later just on the cusp of my visa expiring I arrive at the Bangalore International Airport clutching y last Rs 2000 – ready to enter the no-man’s land of the Departure Lounge and enjoy my first glass of red in 6 weeks.
But it was not to be. No exit visa meant no exit!
I was stopped before I even checked my bag in … after some ranting and raving I was taken to the Immigration Officer – here cometh the lesson!! Can you imagine.. about to leave for home – ready to go in fact – looking forward to seeing my family and friends. Ready to leave the challenges of my chosen second home. But stopped. “Please sir.. all I want to do is leave, I was told I do not need this stamp – it is your visa people who were at fault .. not my fault – I am here working for free for your farmers – giving my time and money to your country and you can’t simply allow me to leave?”
Ah ha – here is the ego. My work in India goes on.. I profess a humility in it.. I was not even aware of that sense of holier than thou that reared its ugly head at the desk of the Immigration Officer.. I lost my temper.. “Its not my bloody fault” I yelled at him.. he retreated into his power place and told me in a very cold voice.. “leave now Madam. ” and I did.
I am very fortunate – I have good friends in Bangalore.. my girlfriend on the other end of the phone urged me to come back to ‘home’ and we can sort it out together. If it were not for her – I could have been on the street – not a very good place to be in India for a foreign woman.
The following days were to be a litany of continual brick walls. Right from the outset, I seemed to to get on the ‘wrong side’ of the one in charge of the large Foreigner Registration Office in Bangalore. I tried very hard not to have to get back on the 7 hour overnight bus ride to Hubli – and to wangle my way through the maze of paper work to get the right ‘stamps’ in my new emergency passport.
I was not successful.. after three days of hassling and haggling, and interminable waiting – and incessant adrenaline stress – thinking that any minute they might relent and I could book a fast ticket home – I finally succumbed to returning to my home in Hubli.
The over night bus ride was long, and I arrived tired and scratchy – but sleep was not mine to have that day as it was another visit to the office in Hubli.. this time to the same man who had caused all the problem in the first place. “Be nice Shazar be nice”.. not the time to throw any accusations at this man.
Two days later the stamps were given – and I was ever so nice to the man. Humility goes a very long way. Yelling doesn’t work. Even bribery in this case didn’t seem to be a possibility. Do what you are told and breathe.. continue to breathe. Hope for help from high places..as in fact if we had not had a connection who knew this man – he would not have changed his mind and I could still be sitting in Hubli waiting for the signature I needed.
So the learning.. yes it was about my ego.. is that a learning – or simply a realisation that the work that I am doing – yes – it is mine to do?.. But that despite the fact that I have felt for a long time that I have found the place of humility and service and my motivation is clean and clear – the strands of the ego are tenacious and hold tight to me – digging deep – to ‘dislodge the ego rudely’ a gift – ouch – it seemed not at the time – but it is to be seen – pulled out of its hiding place – so another hard dislodgement is avoided in the future days.
And now I am back home in Australia – a different reality and a totally different culture. Has all of that changed my mind about my work in India? No it has not. I will go back – but I will very certainly toe the lines of the bureaucratic rules next time – and check and double check all that is required!! And I will watch just a little more carefully where is the subtle sneakiness of my ego hiding!