Category Archives: paperwork

Employment in India not a foreigner’s right

Not that I agree with the idea that employment is a “foreigner’s right” let alone a fundamental “right” of anyone, but I was a little (okay, a lot) discouraged to see this article in DNA today.

A 22-year-old Ukranian woman, who was hired as an analyst by JP Morgan Services India in Mumbai, argued that she “has a right to life (Article 21) and right to equality (14) including right to equal opportunities in matter of employment (16 Right) and that fixing such criterion was arbitrary and without rational.”

She was denied. The court ruled that foreigners can’t evoke articles and that restrictions on the entry of foreign nationals can always exist.

I don’t agree with her arguments per say, but the fact that the Bombay High Court has now ruled on this requirement is going to make it harder for me to find a work around.

It Was Bound to Happen

As I jumped in the back of a rickshaw just outside the Santa Cruz station on the way to meet Arnab and his father at his hotel, I noticed the latch on my bag was open. Bad sign. I fished around each and every pocket, my heart beating faster with each pass. My wallet was no longer in my bag.

I called Arnab, “You’re going to have to come down in a few minutes. My wallet is gone.” At some point in the time between getting out of the rickshaw at Malad and getting into the rickshaw at Santa Cruz, my wallet had disappeared. I don’t know if it was dislodged during the packed train from Malad or if it was stolen. But, at this point, it doesn’t really make much of a difference. It’s gone. And that’s really all that matters.

There are plenty of “I should have done this” thoughts running through my head. But instead, I made a list of “at least” thoughts:

  • At least it didn’t happen a day earlier, when I had an entire month’s stipend in cash
  • At least I didn’t buy the more expensive first class train pass the day before
  • At least I hadn’t received my debit card for my Indian bank account yet
  • At least I only had 200 rupees (US$4.26) in my wallet
  • At least I have a foreign name, so most people in India would have a hard time using my cards
  • At least I haven’t been using much of anything from my wallet in India
  • At least in wasn’t my passport
  • At least I have a boyfriend who can give me money
  • At least no one in India would look at my shabby social security card and think it was anything of value

The credit and debit cards have been canceled. I won’t be able to do anything about my driver’s license or social security card until I get back to the States, but I won’t need them here anyway. It was bound to happen at some point—I’m a pretty obvious target. While I’ll miss my pretty Fossil wallet, I guess I get to go shopping this weekend for a pretty Indian wallet and a dummy wallet I’m going to keep in a more obvious place.

I do have to say, though, Mumbai is trying really hard to make me hate her this week between the wallet and the water situation. (No, we still don’t have normal water service.)

Tips for the FRRO

It’s every foreigner’s nightmare, but a necessary evil of staying in India for any extended period of time. I concluded my registration process today, quite successfully, and I came up with a few tips for anyone else who has to go through the same thing.

  1. Don’t expect to get done on your first trip
    The required documents change so often, and the validity of the documents is up to the person behind the desk. I first went on Monday fully expecting my inch-thick packet of papers to fall short. It most certainly did. The undertaking form that my company had provided me back in June was in the old format. But, I went in with the mindset that I would be coming back, so it was okay. By some stroke of genius, if you have all the documents on the first try, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
  2. Bring extra copies
    While it’s not exactly earth-friendly to bring more than the required copies, the woman helping me insisted I needed three copies of some things and only two copies of other things. Better have some extras lying around at home than have to run to the xerox-wallah and lose your place in line.
  3. Include other relevant forms
    My plan was to inundate the FRRO office with paper. I figured if I showed up with a huge stack of documents, they couldn’t possible tell me no, right? I included my employment contract, the company’s registration, a sponsorship letter and passport copies from Arnab’s cousin as proof of residency before we moved into our place. The woman included all of them in my file. Couldn’t hurt.
  4. When in doubt, have people sign every paper
    When it comes to copies of things, it’s best to have an original signature. Don’t have someone sign one copy of their passport and then make copies from that. Have them sign each and every copy. It’s tedious, I know, but required. I had to make a poor work colleague of mine sign 16 pieces of paper yesterday.
  5. Bring along your flight information
    For the online registration form that you fill out at the office, you need the flight number for the flight on which you first entered India. I didn’t have this, so I just put Jet Airways. That little tidbit of information doesn’t print out, so no one noticed—yet anyway. Best to be forewarned, so you’re prepared with all the information requested.
  6. If you’re confused, ask
    The organization system doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to the casual observer, but like a lot of things in India that seem to lack logic—like traffic—it works. When you aren’t sure where to go, ask. If you aren’t sure whether it’s your turn or not, ask. Likewise, if you look lost (like I did) someone will most likely ask you what your number is and tell you where to go.
  7. Don’t try to make sense of it, just go along
    Similar to the last one. There’s some sort of numbering system including counter numbers and token numbers, but I never quite caught on. The people working there know what they’re doing. They do what they need to do, and they’ll make sure you do the same.

I’ll be writing a more fun, narrative post about the whole experience for those of you that don’t ever plan on visiting the Mumbai FRRO office, Mumbai, or even India.

Adventures in Outsourcing

My employment visa was accepted in an amazing time of just under nine hours.

Last Tuesday, I had all of my employment visa documents printed out and organized in a nice pile on the dining room table. I had filled out the visa application online the night before, and the boyfriend had checked the whole thing. The only thing left to do was get the money order from the Post Office. I wanted to double check the amount, so I called Travisa—the outsourcing company India uses to process its visas.

“Hi, I wanted to make sure that the amount for a 6-month employment visa is $133.”

“No, that’s for Travisa Outsourcing; this is Travisa Visa Service.”

“Oh, there’s two different Travisas?”

“Yes.”

Crap. Apparently, there are two outsourcing services with very similar names. They both process Indian visas. And they are both located on State Street in Chicago. One at 17 North and the other at 120 South.

He continued, “The consulate charges $138, and we charge a $50 servicing fee. So that’s $188.”

Interesting. I looked on the Indian Consulate page, and the only authorized service is Travisa Outsourcing, not Visa Service, located at 17 North, not 120 South. The second service isn’t authorized by the consulate and wants me to give them more money? I don’t think so.

I arrived at 17 North State the next morning where I submitted my application. The woman in charge of my application took a deep breath when she realized I was right and that I did, in fact, need an employment visa and not a business visa.

“The reason I ask,” she says, “is that a business visa is much easier than an employment visa, and 90 percent of the people who come in don’t have the right documents.”

Luckily, that didn’t describe me, but it did describe the poor guy next to me who, afterwards, wanted to commiserate in the elevator. Better luck next time. At 5:26 that evening, less than nine hours after I applied, Travisa sent me a text message saying my visa was ready for pick-up. Done and done.