From the Northeastern region of India to the Southwestern region of India. From Aizawl to Mumbai with a layover in Kolkata.
In Mumbai, I went to visit my friend Jane and her family. I met Jane, an American gal, in Ghana. She was teaching at an international school in Accra. A group of us started hanging out and some of us even had Bible studies together. It was interesting to meet foreigners working, volunteering, researching, and serving in Ghana. After a few years, Jane moved to Mumbai to work at an international school but has been supporting me here.
She met her husband Viren a few years later and they married. They have two kids. When I knew I was going to India I knew I would need to see this girl! We figured it must be about 14 years since we have seen each other. I only planned to be with them for two days because of all my travels, but also, they were going to go on a holiday.
I flew down on a Friday and that gave us Saturday for me to see the sites. Jane took me to cool parts of the city. We tried to cram so many things in because I was flying out the next night. I saw old cathedrals, a historic train station, British influenced buildings/homes, ate delicious foods, shopped at markets, sat in traffic, saw the sea, and her family. The next day was Sunday and we had breakfast at a yummy place and then headed to church. I felt like their church, Avatar, fit me like a glove. It was very international, I knew some of the songs, the message was right out of the Word, and people were so friendly.
My flight was that night, so I headed to the airport. I was so thankful for the quick, but sweet time with Jane and her family. At the airport, I checked in, went through security, and then came to immigration. Remember in part 1 where I was told to register? Well, the immigration man looks at my visa and says, “where is your registration?”
Me- I think I registered.
Immigr—where is it?
Me—I registered in Aizawl.
Immigr—where is it?
Me- they took it.
Immigr—you need to come with me.
So, he led me to the Bureau of Immigration. My first thoughts were, “this is so cool, I never got pulled out of line before. This is kind of exciting!” Seriously… I am a dork.
I stood outside the office and one or two men casually asked me questions of my travels. They asked why I didn’t register. I said I tried but then thought when I wrote it down in Aizawl that was enough. I was thankful I came to the airport early because they would talk to me and then make me wait. Time was getting close to boarding the plane. One man then brought a paper and took down my answers to my questions. He needed to know who I worked with and my Ghanaian address. Then I was getting nervous.
While waiting again, I asked a man what is going on? He said they don’t allow visitors to Mizoram. They are too close to the Burma border. There have been insurgencies going on. I was like, “whaaaaat?!” (Looking back I am not sure how true that is, but there are border issues with India.)
Well, I realized I needed to leave soon so I could get to my flight. The big man came to me and said, “You need to register. We will escort you out of the airport. You can register and then come back in.” I asked about my luggage and they said they will offload it and bring it to me. At this point my brain was in slow motion. “Like…no flying today? Where do I go?”
Now things were not going the right way. And…to keep things going in the wrong way, my phone was broken. The SIM tray that holds your SIM card broke and I just thought I would get it fixed in Ghana. During my processing of all this information, a kind man came to talk to me. He asked if I was really a missionary and I nodded. He told me he is a Christian and wanted to hear my experience and testimony. I was happy he was so kind and a believer, but I was shaking, thinking about my new situation. I couldn’t think. I just said something like I love Jesus and I try and serve him the best I can. I could not think beyond that. He was nice and smiley and I remember thinking, “I wonder if he really thinks I am a Christian with that sort of testimony.” He then said casually, “just register right now and figure it out.” I looked at him, trying not to tear up, and said, “my phone is broken. I cannot make any calls, I cannot connect to any Wi-Fi.” He let me use his phone and again I tried to register, and it wouldn’t submit. It felt hopeless. (I tried to register with Damary in Delhi many weeks ago also.)
I had to give them my boarding pass and visa, which they lovingly stamped cancelled on. I had to go back out with the aid of two men. Really, the men looked like they were 20 years old wearing their dad’s suits. But they were kind and we had to wait for my luggage at the check in. I sat down, refusing to let the tears flow. I settled it my mind that I would camp out at the airport for the night and try and register tomorrow and then fly again. Simple.
But how would I let anyone know? I asked one of my “escorts” how I could get Wi-Fi if my phone doesn’t have a SIM card. One graciously let me connect onto his Wi-Fi. Maybe these boys weren’t as young as I thought😊. So, with that bit of Wi-Fi, I called my director in Ghana and told her and then asked if she could pass a message to let some of my family know. I messaged Damary. I messaged Jane. Thankfully, Jane called me immediately. She was asking what is going on and telling me I cannot stay at the airport. Viren got on the phone too asking and then telling me he would come and get me. Then…the tears flowed…I sobbed with relief. I had enough money to get a taxi back to their apartment. I still had to wait a bit for my bags. When they came, they walked me out of the airport. They kicked me to the curb! Just kidding. They were very professional. Yet, I remember thinking, “if I was in Ghana, they would have helped carry my bags.”
So, I got a taxi, by this time it must be 11:30pm or so on Sunday evening. Thankfully, the driver had Wi-Fi and I gave him Jane’s address and he used google maps to get there. Thankfully, Jane and Viren were right alongside me trying to figure out what comes next. Thankfully, I used a travel agent from Wisconsin who could change my ticket and so it was not cancelled. Thankfully, I had Wi-Fi at their home and I could talk to peeps from home and Damary.
It was interesting because no one had ever heard of this happening. I had a single-entry tourist visa. It did not expire until November 6, and it was only October 23rd. None of us could see the problem. While back at Jane’s I tried the registration AND I GOT THROUGH!!! But I knew I needed to go to the FRRO.
A couple more things still were not going the right way for me. #1- Monday was a holiday. The FRRO would be closed. #2 I still don’t have a phone number to call anyone outside of wifi. #3 Viren, Jane and the kids were leaving for a family holiday that morning. Thankfully, they let me stay in their apartment. Thankfully, they let me use their driver to go to the office. Thankfully, they had food in their fridge. Thankfully, I still had some money left over. Thankfully, Viren gave me a phone to put my India SIM card in. Thankfully, it would be just a day or two…so I thought.
On Monday when I went to the office, no one was there. Yes, holiday, I know, but I just wanted to be sure. Tuesday, I went back to the office. The man behind the desk looked at my visa and said I need an exit permit. He said there is a man outside who can help you. I did find the man outside. He told me some documents I would need to get. I asked if he could do it and he told me to go to a cybercafe. I tried the cybercafe but again I couldn’t get into the FRRO registration. I just said forget it and left…again determined not to cry. I stopped at a few shops for them to see if they could fix my phone. They said they could get a SIM card tray in 1-2 days, but I didn’t think I would still be here in that time…so I thought.
Wednesday, I submitted several documents for this exit permit on the registration site. I googled “exit permit” and it was for people who have overextended their visa. This was not me! And they wanted a document that showed proof of residence. I DON’T LIVE HERE!!! I was so angry. I was annoyed. I felt so helpless. Jane and Viren sent me texts and other numbers of friends while they were away. I tried using Jane’s info that she texted to me, but they did not accept that on documents either. And now it is getting to Thursday and Friday. Viren’s hospitable parents invited me over for two meals that week. They only lived a short walk away. I also went to a prayer meeting with his mom. It hit the spot. A young man talked about being thankful and rejoicing thru all circumstances. I was more on the complaining side. I needed to remember all the blessings I had.
I was thinking of my American-privileged-self. I live in a world where I am surprised when things go wrong. I just expect things to go my way and when they don’t, I expect people to make things go the way I want. So many people in the world don’t live like that. They are always at the mercy of people above them. So, I am trying to remember how good I have it.
Jane mentioned different places nearby that if I felt like it, I could walk to. I did that. One was a tea shop. Another one was a praise and worship night at their church. I didn’t know if I felt up for it. But as Friday evening was fast approaching and they rejected another proof of residence document that I sumbitted, I had to go…otherwise, I would drown myself with a tub of ice cream and watch Hallmark movies on Netflix which would all leave regret on my waistline. I went to the worship night. That worship night was beautiful and fun. I saw people using creative arts to praise God like using banners, or dance, coloring, or painting. I got to praise God in Hindi!
During the night, one woman came to me. Her name is Preeti. She asked if I was Jane’s friend. I said yes, the one having the visa issues. She asked about it. I told her and told her that I would go to the office again. She offered to come with me. I agreed.
Saturday morning, my third time to the FRRO, Preeti was with me, and I was so less stressed. I brought my laptop with me. She told me she doesn’t know anything about this sort of thing but maybe having a local person would help. Oh, boy, it helped!! I connected my laptop to her phone Wi-Fi and we started filling out the registration there. If there was a problem, she would take the laptop and ask the man behind the desk to clarify. Even she, herself, was frustrated with the questions and ways to enter them in the system. The form that I needed for the proof of residence was actually a separate form on a separate website! There was no link, no information regarding that!! Ohhh goodness, I would have never found that.
Then, instead of using Jane’s info we used Viren’s, since he is an Indian. They were on their way back to Mumbai after their trip and here I am stressing them out to send this or send that. Goodness… well, a man, who was very helpful for Preeti came over to us. He asked to look at my passport and see the visa. He looked and said, “oh, you have traveled to Pakistan.”
Me- No. Never.
Man- Well, this is a visa for someone who has traveled to Pakistan.
Me- *** bright lights*** ding! ding! ding!
It made sense to me now. This is why there was so much confusion. I have a visa that shows immigration that I have been to Pakistan. India and Pakistan are deep enemies.
Well, Preeti was able to submit the form!! Then I had to pay. Guess what? It did not go. The man said to try until tomorrow. So, we were able to leave. We both had a festival of griping in the car at the system and the forms and the visa. Ridiculous. But then I turned my mind to thankfulness. I had so much to be thankful for even though at this point the payment wasn’t going thru. I went and pulled cash out of the ATM to pay Viren and he used his card to pay the fee. It didn’t go thru until 11pm. But, I am thankful it went!
You know…the man in the India High Commission in Ghana did tell me to register. Twice. It is my fault. I just was ignorant of what that really meant. Anyways…
So, I just needed to wait again. During this week of crazy, I would call Damary and keep her updated. She felt so bad because I came to India for her blah, blah, blah…I told her that was ridiculous. I had the best trip of my life because she invited me to India! Her and Akru were now in Nagaland with his family.
Jane and Viren and the kids had to start their normal lives on Monday and I decided to take a trip to the market. I was feeling so free, so rid of my burden because I knew I submitted everything and just had to wait. Oh, I did buy a phone too. I couldn’t hack it anymore. While heading to the market, I got an email saying my permit is ready and I can fly out. Talk about a sigh of relief!
I texted Preeti, I texted Jane, I texted Viren. I texted my family. I called Damary. Lots of rejoicing! I called the airlines and I had to pay a little bit more for my ticket but there was one available on Tuesday. And Jane decided to take a personal day and we would hang out. So Sweet!!
So the day I left Jane and I took a long walk thru her suburb. We ended up at a fish market and then some small streets led us to a cute coffee shop. We carried on looking at the different styles of housing and foods on the streets. I saw cows just wandering along. Hindu religion believes cows are sacred. There was a woman selling potatoes which you could buy and then feed to the cows. In Mumbai, there is actually a beef ban. No beef sold.
We walked our way to Viren’s burger restaurant. I know I just said no beef, but these burgers are WATER BUFFALO BEEF burgers. And they were so good! I could not tell the difference.
That evening I showered, packed, and headed back to the airport. When I got to the immigration, the man looked at me and said, “What did you do?” I said, “I did not register.” He nodded and nicely talked about why they have procedures and how we all have to follow them. He said he hopes that even though I had problems I would come back. I said I would.
I made it! I made it back to Ghana! A crazy ride that lasted an extra week. I hope I won’t ever have to repeat that.
One last thing… why did the man in Accra at the Indian High Commission give me a visa that is for visiting Pakistan? I have a couple answers from people I have talked to.
1— A couple foreigners in Mumbai mentioned they are having issues with their visa or it is difficult for family to visit them because India is not handing visas out. So, that makes me wonder if, in Accra, there were no visas and he just gave me one that was available. Is that why he emphasized why I needed to register?
2—One person said Indians do not like missionaries. The man wanted to give me a hard time.
3—One person said there are issues at the borders and for you to have been there is very suspicious and also you are not coming from the USA which is your passport country but you are coming from an African country
I am going to go with answer number 1. I think the best of people and I am thankful the man in the Accra Indian office gave me a visa, even if it caused me problems. I am thankful Damary invited me and also Jane taking care of me. I am so thankful to my director who allowed me to take off work. I am thankful for all the safety along the way. I am thankful for people who were praying, and I am thankful for friends around the world!