Sending CD’s of my photo’s was a lesson in dealing with the Indian bureaucracy. It’s an Indian government institution. There is logic to it, but it must have grown like topsy. I got a late start at doing this, only allowing about 3 hours to send four CD’s to America. Silly me. To make a long story short, I got them off, but I had to go through the main post office and the customs office. Fortunately, they are both in adjacent buildings, together covering a square block.
It doesn’t look that hard on paper. But it is so slow, and you have to go from this person to that person. Furthermore, if you are still there after closing, you have to pay baksheesh. The first thing you do is fill out forms in triplicate for each item. Then you go to the customs officer, who questions you about the content of the CD. Apparently they are worried about state secrets and threats against government personnel. I was told they would be viewing each CD to make sure nothing threatening is contained in them. I saw the computer there and said to myself “This is going to be a while”. Fortunately, the chief questioned me for a while and didn’t decide to view them. He had been institutionalized for a while, so it would have required bringing in assistants to do that. More people, as if all the stamping, money collection and everybody else wasn’t enough. Finally, I got the okay’s I needed. I could then go to the official government package wrapping area, where they were expertly wrapped in this vinyl wrapping material and sewn ( ! ) shut. Then I went back for the stamps of approval, then the initials of the customs officer, then the tar seals. Then I could actually carry all my papers and packages to the window. From there it was easy. They plowed through my information, sewed a copy of my triplicated form to the outside, accepted my postage, and assured me that they would get to America in 10 days. Whew.
Mumbai’s not half bad. I thonk I’m going to stay at least a few days more, if to do nothing but eat. The grub is great here. Tonight I had this thing called Bombay duck. It’s got nothing to do with ducks. It’s dried fish that’s coated with semolina and deep fried. Basically,it’s like Long John Silver’s, only good, with spices in the crust I could only guess at. There is so much of everything here. There’s food, entertainment, arts, high and low cuisine, the usual extrreme poverty and great wealth. It would take a while to do Mumbai meaningfully.
I have only taken a few pictures. The subject matter isn’t as photogenic as Rajastan or Ladakh, but I’ll send something next time. Meanwhile, I’m still getting my sea legs around here. Talk to you later.