I survived the FRRO.

The Foreigner Regional Registration Office in Delhi. The stuff of nightmares.
So Monday morning I arrived at the office at 7:15 am (it opens at 9:30 am). A colleague, Michael, from a partner org needed to take care of some visa stuff as well and got there before me and fortunately put me on the magic list, so that we were #2 and 3! You then hang out in an outdoor waiting area until the office opens, getting eaten by mosquitoes (I got lit up), and watch the area fill up. The seats are split in half by Afghan Nationals (many refugees and immigrants coming to India) and Everyone Else. At 9:30, people frantically got into a line and amazingly a man goes down the crowd to make sure that you are in the order of the magic list. Things get tight in this line - like stacked spoons. I was lucky to have Michael guide me through - this process is a serious gauntlet of 6 or so stations/men that you have to get through. I got my way through #1 (magic list), #2 (security), and #3 (reception), but got the veto from #4 - the counter - the guy who actually stamps everything and makes it official. The letter I brought from John stating that I was staying at the apartment as a guest wouldn't work - the letter must come from the landlord. So after 3 hrs at the FRRO, I left empty-handed.
It took four days to get said letter from the landlord - seems like Indian bureaucracy loves lots of signed letters, but people don't actually like to sign them when you want them to.
I was actually looking forward to going to the FRRO with the letter in hand today, it's been that annoyance hanging over me since I got here and was hoping to finally get it over with. I showed up just before 7 am - number 5 on the magic list. No spooning today - they (faintly) called us up to stations #1-#2 one by one. This time, I couldn't get past reception. The letter from the landlord wasn't good enough for this brute (and calling the landlord's office and talking to his receptionist who knew nothing about this didn't help) - he wanted a copy of a utility bill and proof of ID from my landlord. It was difficult to hide my emotional defeat. I then whipped across town in rickshaws and sweaty heat to get home for the bill, to the landlord (spent 20 min walking around in the heat to find the house - so glad they were cool with me asking for more docs), and back to the FRRO. One of my auto drivers was a character - tried to teach me Hindi and was explaining how he did not feel Indian women were 'sexy' because they were fat (symbolized by puffing the cheeks out), and how Punjabi women were the greatest. I then sat in the waiting area, still worried that something wouldn't work and they'd send me away again (and wondering if Elaine Siew was capable of going postal in public?), and getting chatted up by a teenager from Afghanistan who seemed nice enough, until he started discussing the possibilities of me getting him a visa to the US or how difficult it is to not be able to touch women because he is an unmarried Muslim.
I finally got through to reception, where the same demanding, difficult man (to be polite) accepted my additional documents (phew!), which weren't even necessary for the next guy who actually stamps all my paperwork and approves my registration, i.e. the guy at reception had me running around town for extra documents for no reason. Not unusual for the FRRO. Anyway - #4 stamped all my paperwork, hallelujah! Then a quick trip to #5 -the cash counter - to pay my late registration fee (where the guy asked me when I got my passport photos taken - I said a couple weeks ago - and he said I looked [puffed cheeks] in the photos - what is it with men here today???) and #6 - the 'incharge' - who just takes your paperwork and maybe makes a parting joke.
I'm not sure if this description really captures the full stress and frustration that comes with the foreigner registration process in India, but it's something all expats dread, and I'm certain I could have had it a lot worse. It leaves you feeling defeated and exhausted - but now I am just relieved. Without this registration, I would not have been able to leave the country. Timing was key because I leave for Malaysia Wednesday night for my cousin's wedding - woohoo!
But before then, I am zipping off last-minute to Hyderabad, a 2-hour flight south of here, to catch my friend, Maggie, from Tufts who is there with her husband for a couple more weeks. I'll do some sight-seeing over the weekend and get a chance to meet part of the CHAI team in Hyderabad, where we have a whole other busy office and are doing some other exciting nutrition work, and hopefully get in a visit to one of our nutrition centers around there.

Hoorah for a successful registration and a weekend to explore!
:)