New York and New Passport
Karvachauth being the next day, on Wednesday last B asked me to get some jewelry for her from the safe deposit box. With our impending trip to India, I decided to get our passports from the box, too. While casually flipping through them I realized that B's passport had expired! With the trip being just days away (and no-way would the Indian Consulate in New York turn it around in a timely manner if we mailed the renewal application) - panic set in.
Searches on the internet, confirmed with a call to a cousin working at the Indian Embassy, revealed that our only option was to fly to NY and submit the application in person. More than $2000(!) later we had plane tickets for the next day and a hotel reservation in Manhattan. We tried to convince ourselves (with not a whole lot of conviction) that the trip would provide a much needed break. After all, B had never been to New York and M would enjoy being with us rather than the day-care.
While winding down from La Guardia to the hotel we peered out the shuttle window and shook our heads in amazement as to how in the heck people lived there, completely forgetting that we had grown up in megapolises far more chaotic than NY.
The next day we dutifully arrived at the consulate a few minutes before they opened. The scene outside was reminiscent of the time we had applied for visas at the US Embassy in Delhi. The line had formed already. It was different though - the faces in the line did not show signs of anxiety.
After all of us shuffled into the poorly furnished basement office we were given a stern speech by the Hispanic security guard regarding the procedure and the decorum that had to be maintained while we were in his sanctum sanctorum. The tone of his voice suggested that he had seen it all. He did show a softer side by offering M a lollipop which was accepted without hesitation.
The lady at the counter was pleasant and polite and after a quick and undoubtedly, much practiced glance at B's paperwork she asked us to come back at 4:30.
The afternoon was spent eating lunch, waiting for M to complete his nap, a short subway ride to Time's Square, visiting Toys R Us.
At 4 PM we decided to take a cab back to the consulate. Apparently, as we found out later, 4 PM is the time when most cabbies get off duty. As a result no taxi was willing to stop for us. The security guard's warnings about being late and the dire consequences were still ringing in our ears. Finally, we got one to stop and after some begging and offers of extra cash, he reluctantly agreed to take us.
Armed with the brand-spanking new passport we walked in-and-out of stores on Madison Avenue, visited the Empire State Building, had dinner and wondered where the last two days of our lives had gone.
Searches on the internet, confirmed with a call to a cousin working at the Indian Embassy, revealed that our only option was to fly to NY and submit the application in person. More than $2000(!) later we had plane tickets for the next day and a hotel reservation in Manhattan. We tried to convince ourselves (with not a whole lot of conviction) that the trip would provide a much needed break. After all, B had never been to New York and M would enjoy being with us rather than the day-care.
While winding down from La Guardia to the hotel we peered out the shuttle window and shook our heads in amazement as to how in the heck people lived there, completely forgetting that we had grown up in megapolises far more chaotic than NY.
The next day we dutifully arrived at the consulate a few minutes before they opened. The scene outside was reminiscent of the time we had applied for visas at the US Embassy in Delhi. The line had formed already. It was different though - the faces in the line did not show signs of anxiety.
After all of us shuffled into the poorly furnished basement office we were given a stern speech by the Hispanic security guard regarding the procedure and the decorum that had to be maintained while we were in his sanctum sanctorum. The tone of his voice suggested that he had seen it all. He did show a softer side by offering M a lollipop which was accepted without hesitation.
The lady at the counter was pleasant and polite and after a quick and undoubtedly, much practiced glance at B's paperwork she asked us to come back at 4:30.
The afternoon was spent eating lunch, waiting for M to complete his nap, a short subway ride to Time's Square, visiting Toys R Us.
At 4 PM we decided to take a cab back to the consulate. Apparently, as we found out later, 4 PM is the time when most cabbies get off duty. As a result no taxi was willing to stop for us. The security guard's warnings about being late and the dire consequences were still ringing in our ears. Finally, we got one to stop and after some begging and offers of extra cash, he reluctantly agreed to take us.
Armed with the brand-spanking new passport we walked in-and-out of stores on Madison Avenue, visited the Empire State Building, had dinner and wondered where the last two days of our lives had gone.
posted by V. at 12:34 PM
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