Indiacompetence

The day we left India, she reared her incredibly incompetent, frustrating side no less than three times.

I had been double charged by Jet Airways for our flight from Bombay to Goa. The woman at the counter rang up my total for $10 too much, so after signing the first Visa charge, she had me sign another for the correct amount, saying she would void the first one. The void never showed up on my credit card, so I've spent the past several weeks on the phone getting the run around as I try to resolve the matter. This process culminated in me walking into Jet Airways' office in Delhi. After explaining my situation, the clerk asked for my receipts or ticket stubs. I told him I didn't keep any of that, having thrown them away after the flights were completed. At this point he threw me a "what can I do about it" face, saying without evidence, how could I prove I had been double charged. He next insisted that I produce a credit card statement showing the two charges, which I explained would have to come from the internet. I tried in vain to explain I mainly took the plane. Oh, whoops, I mean...I tried in vain to explain that a printout proved or disproved nothing, since if they had indeed issued a credit, I still could produce a printout showing the double charge but not showing the credit. With Tweedle-Dee still insistent, I rushed (our cab was about to arrive to take us to the airport) to the internet cafe and came back with the printout. Tweedle-Dee took it in the back room, and five minutes later Tweedle-Dum (in a suit) came out, and explained to me that they don't handle these situations in this office. There is a special woman who handles credits, she's 10km away, and I will need to visit her. My Buddha nature was nowhere to be found; instead I was single-pointedly meditating on what a prick this guy was. I got semi-loud and indignant at how horrible their service was. They had made a mistake to the tune of $400, and I was expected to run around to all their various offices to get it corrected. Nobody I talked to on the phone or in person (I had also gone to the office in Jaipur) wanted responsibility for the problem, so they just said they couldn't do anything. I tried to explain I was leaving and could he please call the woman and correct the problem on my behalf. He just kept explaining they didn't handle that. What a wonderful teacher this guy was to show me where I still had to work on my anger...prick.

This was organized incompetence at its finest. But our final day in India also produced staggering individual incompetence, which somehow failed to materialize as noticeably during the previous two months. We saw another Hindi movie ("Veer Zara"), and at the entrance they forced me to hand over my camera's battery. I thought this was an ingenious way of ensuring you don't take pictures, so long as the patron is not counter-ingenious enough to bring a spare battery. When I returned to pick up my battery, they produced it wrapped in tape holding an identifying tag on it. It was non-removable tape, something akin to scotch or packing tape. After trying to remove it, the guy had to help me by producing a razor to scrape off the residual sticky parts from my sensitive electronic component. I have tried, but I simply cannot understand how they have not come up with a better way of identifying the battery than wrapping it in tape. It is obviously a common thing they do (the guy didn't flinch when he asked me to remove the battery). It would seem the "logic" being employed is use whatever approach gets the job done on the front end, back end be damned.

The most horrifying display of back end sacrifice, though, happened at the watch shop. Thinking back on it now, perhaps I should have known better. But the sunglasses and watch store in the shopping complex looked very legitimate. I handed over my ($200 Swiss Army) watch so they could replace the dead battery, visually verifying they had the correct tools behind the counter. She told me to come back in 15 minutes to get it back. When I did, I noticed the backing on the watch was uneven at one part. It was raised off the back, which I showed her by having her move her finger against the ridge, which was rough to the touch. Obviously (I thought), she had erred when re-attaching the backing, and it needed to be re-done correctly. To my horror, when she took the watch back, she produced a gigantic metal file and - wait for it - began filing down the offending protrusion. I put a quick stop to her "final solution" and resolved to try to salvage my watch at Swiss Army headquarters when I get back to the States. She was prepared to destroy the literal back end of my watch to hide the evidence that it was re-applied with all the precision of Bam Bam.

I left India angry. It didn't last long, though. And it certainly didn't dampen my appreciation for the country. But man, if you chart the difference in intelligence between some of the lower-echelon service industry personnel and the upper-echelon software engineers that are stealing American jobs, the result will resemble a graph of monkeys versus monks. Tushita is not the only place in India where both of these are found.

Kelly and I are now on Koh Samui. Our plane got into Bangkok at midnight, and we decided to hop a flight to Samui at 6am the next morning (choosing to do Bangkok on our way out). Samui is just like I remembered it, except it is now strikingly clean! Either that or I've come from India this time instead of California. Also, the beach is totally washed out; waves are pushing right up to the bungalo fronts. When I was here two years ago it was in September, and there was ample beach and a lake-like ocean. We'll stay here a bit, then head by boat and land to the Andaman side surrounding Phuket.

Thailand feels so incredibly nice after India! The cab rides are like floating on a bed of pillows, the food is insanely good, the people are remarkably friendly, everything is modern and clean, and stares at my girlfriend are limited to a more acceptable say-you're-good-looking-and-now-it's-time-to-avert-my-gaze. I miss the cows, but it's really nice to see the dogs here are all fat and happy. I intend to join them.