Twins are Available?

Indians are extremely industrial and hardworking. At the lab, people are always focused, and they finish their work quickly and efficiently. But sometimes, people here can be downright lazy bums.

Case in point: the ID Pass Man.

My quest for an ID Pass has now lasted a week. By now, even my Auto driver is getting a bit desperate for the card. There’s a different watchman at the gate every morning, and just about every morning, I’ve had to either explain what I’m doing in broken English-Kannada-Hindi-Mix or sign the guest book.

Yesterday, I trekked all the way to the security office – it’s like a thirty minute walk – to hand over my letter. The ID man asked for my telephone number and address, and he wanted two copies of my headshot. Luckily, I had them, and I gave them right there. I asked him how long it would take to make the Pass. (The Buzzcard Office, for the record, prints the cards right in front of you, and you can get your picture taken and put on a new card in less than ten minutes.) He said to come by around 4:00 to pick up the pass. Since I normally leave before then, I asked if I could come in the next morning. Sure, he said, come around 9.

Me: Nine?

ID Man: Nine is fine.

Me: Not now, like 10 o clock?

ID Man: Come at 9:00 tomorrow morning.

So I came in this morning, at 9:10, to pick up the pass that should have been ready yesterday. I went into the office, and the watchman asked me to come back at 9:30 because the ID Man would be there by then. Not wanting to walk for an extra hour, I told him I’d just wait and plopped myself down outside the building.

Fifteen minutes later, I went inside to get my pass. The man wasn’t ready. He told me to come back after 10.

Back to the sidewalk. A couple of chapters into my book, multiple Sudoku games, and a few fights with ants later, it was finally 10:15 and I figured I could go retrieve my pass. When I went back into his office, the ID man was chatting with another man, writing something down on a slip of paper, and cutting up the photo I gave him. To my surprise, he stuck the piece of paper in a laminated card sleeve and handed it to me, telling me to have a nice day.

My ID Pass is literally a piece of paper in a card sleeve. The ID Man wrote my name and address and stuck the picture that I gave him on a slip of paper. He did this right in front of me and then went back to gossiping with the man in his office.

WTF? I waited for an hour-and-a-half for a half sheet of paper that you scribbled on? I could have done this in two minutes!

At least I have an ID pass now, I guess.

On a completely unrelated note, I had a discussion with my uncle today about twins.

My uncle frequently likes to talk about all the people he knows. This time, he was outlining the families of his cousins. One of his cousins had twin boys who looked identical, and my uncle was extremely intrigued with the concept of twins. I told him that twins were fairly common, and I knew quite a few of them. In fact, last year, I met a set of identical girl twins.

He didn’t believe me. He’d never heard of twins who weren’t boys.

Uncle: Available?

Me: Yes

Uncle: Girl and girl?

Me: Yep

Uncle: Not boy boy?

Me: Yep. Two girls can be twins.

Uncle: Yabba (*He had the most astonished look on his face. I could barely keep from laughing.)

Me: You know, boy and girl can be twins?

Uncle: Howdha?

Me: Yep

Uncle: Boy and girl?

Me: Yes

Uncle: Available?

Me: Yep

Uncle: Here available?

Me: Here also available

Uncle: Bangalore? I no know…

Me: I know

I think my uncle still isn’t entirely convinced that the idea of fraternal twins is just some American shenanigan.

Anyway, my grandmother soon joined the conversation, and it evolved into a discussion of Jon and Kate Plus Eight, puppy litters, and the forty-five children Osama Bin Laden supposedly has.

Awkward.

I think I might have preferred the food discussions. At least I could keep a straight face through it all.

-June 1st