Sightseeing at the Port of Mumbai

I am finally ready to blog again. I've had a few days of feeling blah, which started on Saturday's trip to the port. A week and a half ago, Greg received an email stating that the port needed proof that Greg has not been in the country the last three years so that we could get our shipment under the category of "Moving residences." The ONLY way to prove this is with a passport. I was so proud of myself for getting us organized enough to renew our passports before we left, so our passports are new as of April. This means Greg needed his old passport...mmmm, right. Our old passports are in our 5x7 storage unit in Lakewood, CO.

This week, we were told Greg's presence was requested at the port to explain about the old passports. On Saturday, our shipping company sent Amit to pick us up and take us to the port. I actually didn't need to go, but who could pass up an opportunity to see the port of Mumbai?! We were told it would take about 30 minutes, but 3 and a half hours later, we finally left. We first had to get our passes. So we went into an entry area and signed our names. A guy at the port that was assigned to help us through the whole process, waited in line for us and then we both had our pictures taken. There were people in line that seemed pissed, not sure if our guy moved ahead or what happened. We hopped back into the car and drove to the yellow gate. The port guy handed our passes and his badge to the guard, who noticed our passes were incorrectly labeled "Indian Nationals." They bantered back and forth, but we were finally allowed in. The guard had wanted us to go back to have the passes changed.

The port was pretty empty since it was Saturday. It's an old port, so instead of the fancy, speedy cranes we have in the US, they had a bunch of older, smaller cranes to unload shipments. We ended up at a warehouse, walked through the area where shipments were held (I craned my neck around, hoping to glimpse some of our purple Rubbermaid bins but no luck) and climbed up stairs to an open room. It was dark with some fluorescent lights. I can't imagine having to spend whole days there working. In the center of this dingy place, were some couches and chairs where we waited. We first went into one office and the guy said to Greg, "So tell me you story." Greg explained what had already been explained. The guy said, "well, I believe you, but I can't do anything different." He showed us the rule book where it states the rule about needing to prove you haven't been in the country for the last three years. I could feel my blood boiling so I took some deep breaths. (Nothing is connected to anything else, such as the consulate office who gave us our Visas and the port. I don't think I even saw a computer at the port). Greg asked what happens to people who just got passports for the first time. This would not be a problem then. (I looked in my passport and, had we known, we could have stated this was Greg's first passport because nothing says otherwise on the passports). I said, "what about if we didn't get our passports back," since usually the US just keeps them unless requested. I realized I was pretty forceful with the statement so decided I should just keep my mouth shut less I freak out and make things worse. After this conversation, we sat back in the waiting area.

Other people were called from the shipping company and it was requested that we talk with the Commissioner. 30-40 minutes later we were in the commissioner's office, going over the same thing, only we told him that the US kept our old passport. He asked where our copies were. "Didn't you get copies of your old passport?" (India and it's paperwork. The country has a shortage of carbon paper because it's not being made anymore. India loves carbon copies. Come on, let's get on with the program, India). I really had to fight just laughing at how ridiculous this statement was. Our choice now was, paying tariffs at the more expensive rate of "visitors" or go in front of a magistrate to swear Greg had not been in the country the last three years. Who knows how long the latter would take. We asked to step outside and discuss the matter. Greg called our school contact, who laid into the shipment guy over the phone. In the end, we were advised to just pay the higher tariffs. I do want to make clear here that this was not a bribe, we just couldn't get our shipment cleared through the cheaper category. So, really, we wasted the morning to be told nothing could be changed, when that could have be relayed via email. We did get to see our shipping container, which was the smallest in the warehouse and made Amit chuckle because we don't really have anything. Two other co-workers of Greg's have since been told the same thing, they need their old passports. We just got to be the guinea pigs. By Friday, we will have our shipment...I'm just crossing my fingers that it's not all moldy and smelly. We were both tired after this and I was hungry. The upside, is we no longer have to be curious about the port (I can't see why it's not mentioned in the Lonely Planet) and while downtown, we found a market area that had many bicycle shops. I think we've found our bikes and the guy we are ordering from. Both of our bikes will have lovely baskets and rear racks and mine will be a wonderful, bright shade of purple. Greg's will be boring black. Hopefully we'll get those in the next week or so. The best thing is...each is under $100.