FRRO, Hibernation and Lost Innocence

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So I’m back in Mumbai and back in the thick of it. And I literally mean thick of it. Leaving the wide open, blue skies of Ontario and walking out into the density of humidity and heat and people and noise, staring eyes and flooded streets is a little overwhelming. Yesterday I had coffee with a good friend of mine at the local coffee shop which is just a short walk from my apartment and we were discussing that we needed to re assimilate ourselves to the daily realities of India. It really is not as easy as just getting off the plane and re entering your normal life. It’s just so much more than that. It’s a little like entering the wardrobe into Narnia. It’s so different that you don’t know what to do or look at first.  Anyhow I told my friend that it will take a minimum of 5 days. I am on my 5^th day as I write this and I still may need a few more.

On day 1 of my return I needed to go out to the grocery store to restock my fridge with vegetables.  This  is  not as easy as it sounds. During the monsoon, vegetables are not quite up to par and in fact they are quite sub-sub-par. To put this in perspective I am coming back from the gleaming grocery stores of beautifully ripe, juicy and clean vegetables positioned in perfect rows and pyramids with a light mist of cool, clear water falling gently over them. Insert here a screeching halt sound with some breaking glass in the background.  I push my cart through at least 20 people in the tiny veg aisle of Haiko, the local grocery store. There are hardly any veg on the shelves and as I pick up a prepackaged bag of peas I see a number of bugs crawling around the pods. I quickly place it down and move on to the tomatoes. These too, are prepackaged and as I inspect them they are all beginning to rot with slimy goo lining the inside of the bag. I left the store that day with some apples and onions and raced home to hibernate inside the safety of my apartment. Day 1 over and done with.

Day 2- Hibernate

Day 3- A trip to the FRRO

As any foreigner in India knows the annual trip to the FRRO (Foreigner Regional Registration Offices) is never an easy one and if any place will put you back into hibernation this will.  Every year, every foreigner must register at these offices to be allowed to stay in the country. Our 2011 expiry date had come and gone and we needed to head down there as soon as possible after arriving back in India. The first challenge, as always, is the drive down. Because we live in an area called Powai, we are at least an hour away if not more and because it’s monsoon add at least another 45 minutes to that due to roads and highways filled with potholes and crumbling pavement caused  by heavy rains. What does this really mean you ask? It means it is impossible to get and drink a coffee to go for the long journey ahead.  On this particular day it took 2hrs and 5 min. When we arrive and step out of the van, we are immediately the most interesting site on the street for the hundreds or so standersby. We foreigners are always a good bit of entertainment for the locals who never turn away when you stare back. They just continue staring. Definitely need more than 5 days of adjustment  to get used to this. Once inside we have a representative who helps us with the process which is a great help  however he cannot follow us into the waiting room and we must continue the process on our own. As we wait inside with other foreigners from all over the world, a woman beside us begins talking to my daughter. My daughter is hesitant to respond because they are often the centre of attention and they have naturally learned to shy away from strangers. It’s like having paparazzi around you all of the time. You find the need to ignore and not encourage human contact. This woman introduced herself to Ariana and said she was from Nigeria. Ariana kind of shrugged and when the woman asked her her name, she turned away. I was busy filling in some forms online so I was only half listening until I heard Ariana say, “Sorry?” as if she didn’t hear something. I tuned in and heard the woman ask again, “ Do you not like blacks?” Of course Ariana had no idea what she meant and said ‘Sorry?’ again the woman asked , “ Do you not like blacks?” So of course in her innocence Ariana looked down at her outfit which consisted of black tights, black boots and a black top and said, “ I like black.”  I turned to this woman who looked directly at me and asked the same thing of me and I gave her a confused look and said,

“ Yes, we like blacks.”

A few more polite comments back and forth and our number was called to finish the FRRO process. As we left the building I reflected on the comments made by the Nigerian woman and was thinking of just how innocent my children are. They really have no understanding of the concept of racism. They have always lived in a world of international schools where their friends are from all around the world and where everyone is new and different and this in itself makes them all the same. Their differences make them more alike then their similarities. They are truly a generation of children who accept everyone because they don’t know that there is another option. Everyone is just equal.  I love that innocence.

Insert here a screeching halt sound with some breaking glass in the background.

The next day we were sitting in the mall on the 4^th floor having lunch waiting to go see the Smurf movie. All of a sudden a huge crash is heard and people run to the glass railing to look down to the floors below. Of course my children run, well roll actually, they are wearing their Heelys, to look along with the crowd. They came back disappointed that there was nothing to be seen but my younger daughter said, “ I thought it might have been some terrorists with some bombs like a few weeks ago.”

I guess they are not so innocent after all.