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November 28, 2006
Waiting in Line
Counter number five at the Indian Consulate was closed this morning. A small handwritten sign, crammed between the glass and some books told everyone to go to counter one. A queue formed at counter one and each of us took numbers which were not really necessary. There is a mania for ticketed numbers at the Indian Embassy. I ended up with two, a pink number fourteen and then a second white ticket with the same number. An attendant handed out the pink numbers to people who were waiting along the sidewalk in the morning. A second attendant replaced the pink tickets with white slips that he forced out of the vending machine by the front door. When I got to the front of the line at counter one I found out that there was an additional processing charge and I did not have enough cash and nobody was taking a credit card so I left the consulate to find an ATM. By the time I returned to the consulate, the counter one line had eased itself out beyond the glass doors and down into the staging area outside the consulate building. We were all waiting to hand over our passports, having waited in a different line five days earlier to hand over the initial application. In one sense, we were elite. There were only twenty of us out a building and staging area crammed with people waiting in one or more lines for the first step visa application processing.
Next to the glass entrance doors, I had one of the best standing spots in the house, at one of the best times of day. Minute by minute small bleak plays unraveled at the ticket dispenser near the door: dashed expectations in three parts. A visa applicant arrives at ten in the morning and approaches the glass doors glad to arrive early and hoping to miss the lunchtime rush. He falters when he sees the line extending outside of the door but the line is pretty short so he perks up. Someone at the end of the counter one line tells him that he is in the wrong line and directs him into the consulate. He then looks through the door and sees tons of people waiting and the first tremors, maybe a look of alarm or a facial twitch play out. He glances around and sees the digital counter. Without registering the number on the counter, he starts looking around for a vending machine and then sees the printer at the door. By this time, I’m watching and waiting for the third part. He pushes the button and gets the ticket. Number 122. He turns around and looks at the digital counter over the line of teller stations: 19. His entire body deflates. He is in the long line. Only 19 people have been served since the consulate opened at 9 AM. His turn should be up in six hours. Everyone in the consulate has a settled, even look. After ten minutes he too will settle in to his chair and begin the long wait. This happened time after time. It helped me pass the 1 ½ hours in the line for passport submission. I'll admit that it helped me pass time because I'm a terrible person.
I get to go back at 4:15 this afternoon. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll get to it all over again in a month when I switch to a business visa. Maybe when I've finished the second round I'll find it less edifying. Maybe counter number five will be open.
Pointless Pontificatin | By jb | 01:34 AM