I’ve got a pretty good story. It’s a sort of a parable too, but I think it’s a pretty good story.

My daughter Natalie was planning to go to India with a group from her church. To go to India, you need a visa. The way you get the visa is to send your passport to the Indian consulate. They actually glue the visa into your passport and then mail it back. Although people in the Western US are supposed to use the Indian consulate in San Francisco, Natalie’s group leader, for some reason, had them mail their passports to the embassy in Washington DC instead. This eventually became significant.

Anyway, Natalie has some of her parent’s habit of procrastination, and she was also trying to finish college, and the upshot is that she got the passport sent off to DC in time, but not in a lot of time. She graduated, and had to move out of her apartment. She didn’t have a new address yet, so she didn’t leave a forwarding address. She should have told them to hold her mail, but she had spent the year getting the previous tenant’s mail, and figured the Post Office would be happy to deliver her mail even after she moved out. Rookie mistake. They don’t mail passports bulk rate. You have to sign for them.

So, she got a new address, and went in to the Post Office to tell them, and asked them about the passport. They remembered it. She had moved, so they sent it back to Washington. This had happened about a week previously, and time was now very short. It was a Thursday, and she was supposed to fly on Monday.

She came home to Spokane and we got to work on the problem. We had to make a miracle happen on Friday.

In what is to follow I want you to remember that the Indian embassy represents the worst kind of government. I mean, I’m sure the Indian government is just wonderful, but we aren’t Indian citizens. So from our point of view, they don’t represent us. They owe us nothing. They are unmotivated, not answerable to us, and generally lacking any reason at all to help or get things done.

She had called the embassy in DC on Thursday but no one would answer. She left messages but no one called back. They close pretty early due to the timezone difference, so she called their emergency after hours number. She actually got a person, who told her to call back in the morning. Great.

I couldn’t sleep for worrying, so I got out of bed and got on the web and got all the Indian embassy and consulate numbers I could find. In the morning, starting at 6AM our time, which is 9AM their time, we started phoning. Like the day before, no one would pick up. Within a few minutes their mailboxes were full and you couldn’t even leave a message. We could just imagine them over there with their feet up, slurping lattes and eating donuts.

Well, this wasn’t getting us anywhere, so I called the New York consulate. I thought maybe they’d know someone, have an extension, have a trick, whatever. I got through. Neat. I explained the situation and they really did give me a different number. Cool. I called that, and got the ol’ mailbox full problem. Oh well. By the way, the phone message did give a number for extreme emergencies. So we called that. It had been disconnected.

Nancy said “call your congressman”. I said “huh?” Like they know Indian embassy personnel? She said heck, at least they are in the right town. Might as well try. I said, yeah, might as well, and called Representative McMorris’ office in DC. They were a little confused. They said to call the Spokane office when it opened. I know a brushoff when I hear one. So I thanked them and hung up and called Senator Cantwell’s office. They were also a little confused, but had an idea. They said they had heard of hiring a courier to go to the embassy, get in their face, and take care of the issue. I thought this was a grand idea. I said, can you grab your phone book and look me up a courier? They said, get this, they don’t have phone books, and to look on the web. I thought this was odd so I thanked them, hung up, and called McMorris back. Hey, I said, can you look up a courier for me? They explained that they DON’T HAVE PHONE BOOKS and I should use the web. Maybe they don’t have the web either.

OK, in contrast to the Indian government, which does NOT represent us, this is representative government. The Indians don’t care. The Americans would like to care. They feel required to act like they care. It is definitely an improvement, although not a huge one.

So, anyway, not totally daunted, I got on the web and started searching for courier services in Washington DC. In searching around, somehow the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Washington DC came up. Aha! The concierge! Their job is to solve problems!

Now, please regard the contrast in the following description. The Indian government doesn’t care at all. The US government would like to care, if it isn’t inconvenient. But now, we are about to enter the realm of private enterprise. Yes, the wicked capitalists.

I phoned up the Crowne Plaza and a very polite person answered immediately. I asked for the concierge and was cheerfully transferred. The concierge, name of Vernon, answered immediately. (Natalie might name her first-born “Vernon”.) I explained that I was in Spokane, and not staying at his hotel, and that I had a problem. Vernon was all over it. He knew of several courier services. But he said the embassy would not release a passport without some kind of authorization, which we would have to deliver to them. This would probably require them answering the phone, the one thing they never ever do. So we scratched our heads a bit. He said if I didn’t think of anything, to call back and he would find a way. For instance, maybe the courier could get to the front of the line, dial our number on his cell phone, and MAKE the clerk talk to us. If I ever go to DC I’m staying at the Crowne Plaza and I don’t give a rip what it costs.

So I tried the embassy several more times, no answer, same story. So then I, uh, well, I sorta hacked their phone system, actually. And I got a human! A real human who spoke English with a thick Indian accent and did not appear to be eating a donut. I apologized for bothering him- thankfully he did not ask how I got his number- and explained my problem. He understood but said the embassy consisted of two buildings, and the visa people were in the other building, so he could not help. So I told him he was a liar. I showered him with a torrent of invective. Then I had my senator and representative call him and ask him what Jesus would do.

OK, I made that up. I didn’t do those things. It’s a sort of a family pattern, but I no longer participate. It’s not easy to change. I’m the only one who knows this, as no one else has felt the need to change. Too bad I didn’t do it, really. That white-hot surge of righteous indignation is like a drug. And while you are on it, the act of destroying things is almost sacramental. Ahhh, brings back a lot of good times….. ooops, sorry, enough nostalgia. Back to the topic.

So he gave me the number of an important-sounding person, like the first secretary or something. I thanked him profusely and let him go. When I called the first secretary guy, I got a recording and left a message. Clinch time. So after hanging up we (finally) prayed. In about 5 minutes the phone rang! The first secretary guy was calling back. So I explained our whole sad story. Natalie’s passport was in their basement somewhere and we wanted it very badly, very soon. He took all our information down and said he’d call back.

So we waited.

I was about to call Vernon and see what kind of nuclear option he had up his sleeve when the phone rang. It was some grunt in the visa department. The first secretary had cleared the donut out of the grunt’s windpipe and gotten him to find Natalie’s passport. So he says he needs $15 to mail it. I say, do the math. It’s Friday. We have to have it Saturday so she can fly Monday. He said he’d express mail it on faith right away, but get the check in the mail. I said, how cool is that, and thanked him and hung up.

I got the money order and mailed it that day. The passport arrived exactly SIX days later. That’s government for you. You think Vernon would have done that? Think there’s anyone I could complain to? Anyone who would answer the phone? Anyone who would care if they did? This is a lot of why I totally do not understand big government advocates. Whenever I’ve been in the clutches of the government it’s been almost as bad as being in the clutches of my relatives.

I said it was significant that the passport was languishing in DC and not San Francisco. You see, Natalie’s itinerary was from Seattle to San Francisco, and on across the Pacific. If the passport has been in San Francisco, there may have been some way of getting her down there early, prying it out of them in person, and making the leg out of SF. But with DC, no chance. So we were sunk.

Anyway, we found the contrast most instructive: government, versus representative government, versus private enterprise.