First world problems

Since today included a trip to the FFRO, it is safe to assume today was not a fun one. We decided we should go in the afternoon as we really prefer going to the hospital vs the FFRO. So I went to the labour room in the morning and went to rounds and then after rounds yet another woman was being wheeled into the delivery room. The woman pushed for all of 3 contractions before -shocker- they did an episiotomy. I decided it was time to verify my worst fears and talk with a resident about this whole episiotomy thing. I confirmed that 90% of the women in this hospital delivering vaginally get episiotomies. News flash, Lauren, you are in a third world country. Maybe it's that Indian women are so tiny, not because St. John's isn't up with the literature? But really, they don't even give these women a shot. It's like 5 minutes of pushing and out comes the local/scalpel combo.

Speaking of third world countries. We left work around noon to make it over to the FFRO. We got to wait for about 3.5 hours before making it upstairs. I'm a very patient person, so I really enjoyed this. When they finally get to my token number and I go up and show my papers, the scrutinizer takes one look at my bonafide certificate and says "No. This is not good enough signature" and shoos me off." The dean had signed my certificate over my attached passport picture. I get Ale to show her certificate proving this is the right signature, but he again shoos me with his hand. So I do what I do best when I get frustrated. In the sea of legit Africans, Southeast Asians, and Middle Easterners, the lone white girl starts crying. #firstworldproblems. (Looking back, perhaps the scribbled signature on my picture that was glued onto the certificate might have been questionable.)

Luckily Ale, with a much more sound mind, barks orders to me. "Lauren go back to St. John's and get a new signature. Sir, what time does she need to be back by?" I was to be back in 55 minutes before the office closed and I would have to come back and wait all day long again for a stupid token. Given that every time we need something signed by the dean, it takes about 2 days minimum, this was no small feat. I went running (with tears down my face), downstairs, out the FFRO and into the rickshaw of an Indian about to profit off of my despair. "400 there and back?" Apparently this wasn't the first time these rickshaw drivers saw a desperate foreigner run out the door in panic. And so I ended up paying 4x more than I should have (a whole $6 extra). Somehow 40 minutes later, 2 rickshaw rides, 400 rupees, 1/2 mile of sprinting later, and by the grace of god the dean being in his office, I was back at The FFRO. The scrutinizer scrutinized my papers and they were accepted. Of course, though that's not the end of the story. Since it was already 430, the registration paper wouldn't be ready that day and so instead of waiting until 515 when Ale's paper was ready, we got out of there as fast as we could. Lucky us get to return Monday to hopefully (knock on wood) pick up our papers. Fifth times the charm?

Luckily, since then we have been fed, showered, and Interneted by now, so today is but a distant memory. Mr. Thacker had gotten us a little pre-dinner snack of things he wanted us to try when we arrived home. We each had 2 Indian burgers (1 fried potato and 1 fried corn/cheese thing on a bun), cheese gulab (a dessert) and jac fruit (cue image of Ale and Lauren plus 50 lbs.)

Tonight we take an overnight bus to Coorg and spend 2 nights in a tent. We then take an overnight bus back to Bangalore on Sunday night. We will be relaxing in the hillsides of Karnataka in an Eco-friendly coffee and cardamom plantation. We will be trekking, taking photos, and maybe meeting some elephants?

Until we have Internet again...