ENTERING INDIA

       You might want to read this when you're ready for your bed because you'll probably be thoroughly exhausted after doing so!

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     Remember your last vacation?  You went online and did a Google search for that perfect vacation spot. Finding what you needed, you downloaded everything for your impending trip. A family vacation was now a reality.  Or, easier still, you programmed the GPS, threw the kids in the back of the car and set out to visit the parents back east, letting them do the rest once you arrived. Either way, no fuss, no muss.
       But what if you decided to go to another part of the world?  India for example?  Where might you begin?  The Internet, of course. Being the careful planner that you are, a cross your t's, dot your i's kind of a person, you start to plan your trip early, allowing plenty of time before your proposed departure date.

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It's early morning.  You stare out the window at the birds hopping on and off of the feeder fueling up for their day.  The coffee maker is doing its job filling the pot with a fresh brew.  You too, are ready to start your day.
    The steam is rising from your coffee as you type "visiting India" into the Google search engine. A chill of excitement chases down your spine.  You stretch while the computer's brain hesitates, astounded by the list of India related websites the length of two football fields that now fill the screen. You scroll the endless list, viewing those with the most enticing descriptions.  You're enthralled by the photographs.  All that history.  All of those temples.  Desert sunsets.  Snow-capped mountains.  Indians on the Ganges.   You refill your cup from time to time.
    By noon you've found "the" sight, but before you dig in, you go to the kitchen and pour the morning's leftover cold coffee into a tall glass of ice and sweetened milk, gulping half of it down for a quick recharge. The caffeine collides with the excitement in your stomach. as a picture of the Taj Mahal lights the screen.  Your hooked...click, click, click.
     A link says "FACTS FOR THE VISITOR"...click.  Your eyes widen as a nightmarish list of requirements rivaling the Obama Care package appear on the screen.  You begin to leap frog the maze of information associated with each requirement and feel your excitement wane as the warnings appear on the screen-- VISA REQUIRED FOR ENTRY--CENTER OF DISEASE CONTROL SUGGESTS...Your chest tightens as the scary list of diseases jump from the page--tetanus, diphtheria, pertussis, typhoid, polio, influenza, hepatitis A & B.   It says the shots are not required, but motivated by your desire to outlive your Indian experience, you give in to the suggestion and press on..click, click, click. 
      You've eaten up half of a day and you're feeling weary. Time for a pick me up. You sip on a toddy and feel the butterflies run for the sidelines as it settles in a cool pool in your food-deprived stomach.  Another link jars the nerves and has you reaching for the long-handled, wooden, back scratcher-- "MOSQUITOES AND MALARIA IN INDIA "... click.  "Malaria kills thousands of travelers every year."  What must you do?..click..."A malaria tablet is required 2 days before your departure and every day of  your trip as well as a week after your return."...click...SIDE AFFECTS--not pretty....click.  The toddy needs freshening.  
     By midnight you've added another $5.00 to your water bill from all the flushes, and your stomach is reminding you that this could be a mild preview of coming attractions if you don't quiet it with food; it might have wished for better, but settles for a bowl of Ramen noodles.  
     At 3 A.M. your eyes are blinded from the screen glare.  You can not absorb another piece of information, or liquid beverage, and are content  that you have armed yourself with all the information you need to enter India. Or so you think.
      Now, you ask, where, in a small town like Hiawassee do I facilitate such a demanding list?   
     For starters, you make the hour and a half drive to the neighboring town of Gainesville's health department where a friendly nurse spends two hours one afternoon pouring over pages of information on the subject of travel in India, the likes of which make your head spin, and adds even more tasks to your long list of "ENTERING INDIA" gottas.  Finally, she directs your attention from the single potted plant on a shelf struggling for life in the sun-deprived room, instructing you to move to the overstuffed black leather recliner---looking more like the "500 pound gorilla in the corner"-- lines a tray beside the chair with syringes, and while she chatters on about her impending retirement, says to you, her victim, "just a little stick."  She then proceeds to repeatedly penetrate the perfectly good flesh on both upper arms with the very bacteria you fear you'll contract on your trip.   Finished?  Of course not. While she soaks up the oozing blood from you fresh punctures with a cotton ball then decorates the unsightly mounds with her pink and purple glittery bandages, you sigh in relief and begin to ease yourself form the gorilla's grip.  Not yet.  She smiles, and tells you to sit tight for another 20 minutes in the event you keel over from a serum overdose.  
     At last you're done and you bid this chatty, conscientious, flesh-invading, travel caretaker a final farewell, taking yourself down the long hallway with your packet of instructions to the cheery receptionist who prepares you for more blood letting as she reminds you that your insurance will not cover the $300.00 bill. 
     Less painless than your health department visit is a website visit to the Indian consulate which offers convenience for obtaining a visa in lieu of a visit to their embassy in Atlanta.  Following their endless pages of instructions-- which are no doubt written by an Indian-- and understanding the Indian's interpretation of certain words as they appear on the forms, is more than challenging and requires much concentration.  Pages of personal information, a list of your itinerary and address in India, proof of identity, a recent photo meeting their exact specs and a check for $70.00 later, you're ready to post that envelope and start the wheels in motion...a must do that Saturday morning.  But 45 minutes before the post office closes the voice from within filters through and tells you to revisit the form, forcing you to tear the envelope open revisit the website, redo and reprint a page (and thank goodness you listen to the voice). At 15 minutes before noon you jump in your car, rush to the bank because your signature on a critical document must be notarized. Once inside, you anxiously wait while the notary completes a phone call, feeling the beads of perspiration forming on your upper lip as the clock nears the noon hour.  Phone conversation concluded, the notary reads the urgency in your tone, stamps the document and you bolt out the door with 7 minutes remaining before the post office shuts its doors.  When you tell the female postal clerk--who is looking at the clock and reminding you that the post office closes promptly at noon---the consulate's mailing requirements, she argues that she can not fulfill the request and a long debate begins.  At precisely noon, the agent comes from behind the counter and proceeds to lock you in the post office service area.   The rest is too complicated, but suffice to say you don't give in and the agent finally capitulates and takes the envelope containing the documents, including your passport, and you clasp your hands in prayer as it disappears from sight.
     www.kayak.com: A list of airlines and prices sprawl across the top of the screen.  The timetables are staggering and quickly become a blur.   Airlines with suspicious sounding names strike a cord of fear and you feature yourself clapping in relief---like the Russians---when the plane touches down on the runway.  You scratch those airlines!  Which one to choose?  There's no such thing as a non-stop.  There are one stop and multi-stop flights, all with layovers, some as long as 8 hours.  Determining the airline determines which country it will stop in.  Paris, Amsterdam, Frankfurt....click, click, click.   But wait, the Indian Consulate strongly advises you not to purchase a ticket until your visa has cleared which means you'll have to visit the website later and start over again.  What could possibly hold up your visa?. You're clean as a whistle, unless of course the mug shot attached to the application scares them off!  
     Now, while you wait, you begin the daunting task of planning the right clothes for the climate and all the other stuff you need to carry, and doing so with a sensible approach. Remember all those shoes that go with all those outfits?  You can Google the subject, and who knows, maybe another experienced traveler has started their own website and will knock some sense into your head when it comes to the shoes! 

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     Over two months have passed since I began the process.   Obviously all went down without a hitch or I wouldn't be writing this blog.  I must compliment the Indian Consulate for the expeditious and efficient manner in which they handled my application, thank the woman at the post office for giving in to my persistence and fulfilling the consulate's request, the friendly nurse who led me in all the right directions, Bill Gates for the PC, and Google for their comprehensive search engines.  If only I'd bought stock in both companies way back when.   
      Much to my surprise, the visa was back in my hands five days after it was posted.  In the meantime, I figured out that Delta was my best bet, and I gleefully visited my Capital One account and redeemed enough points to pay for my $1478.00 round-trip ticket.  And was I ever glad I did because I nearly choked when the pharmacist at Walmart presented me with the $200.00 bill for the malaria tablets!  
     No doubt it's easier to plan the trip to the folks, but just think of all the Google trips and toddies you'd miss! 
     And if you're wondering if it was worth all the effort..stay tuned.
    

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