Trysh Ashby-Rolls
Author & Journalist
​writing on challenging social issues
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The Life of Sigh, Pondicherry

3/1/2013

1 Comment

 
March 2 (in India) already and only 8 days before it's time to pack and take the taxi to Chennai Airport for home. It's been a funny sort of a trip with two bouts of pneumonia that have left me breathless - and not with wonder. I have been writing my "postcards" - just haven't found a good way to delete and paste them here. Looks like I'll have to copy them as if by hand. That I shall do, starting today I hope.

One thing I've spent much time doing is visiting Indian Immigration. In Canada it was insisted upon that I acquire the J visa i.e. Journalist Visa. "Too many of you people come in on Tourist Visa and then practice journalism. We can't be having that I am telling you." After pulling strings with the Vice-Consul (Visas) I got mine in a couple of days. However, there was a stipulation that I register here within two weeks of arrival. What a rigmarole.

First I could not find the correct place to register, having been told by the Immigration Officer at Delhi that I could do it with any Chief of Police anywhere in India. Wrong, Mr. Immigration Official. When I did find the right place, India Immigration here in Pondicherry, I was told I did not have permission to be in this place. Pondicherry is not in Tamil Nadu State, it's a Union Territory separate unto itself. After speaking on the phone and twiddling every elastic band, staple and paper-clip in his stationary tray, the Head Honcho (you could tell, he was the only chap with a glass-topped desk) said he would give me his permission. Then I had to fill in certain forms. When I returned those next day another official, a woman this time, said they were "not ac - cept - able" as if she were the headmistress and I a naughty pupil. On Day Three I got the forms right but had to return the following Monday. Over the next couple of days she must have investigated that everywhere I said on the form I'd stayed was true. I know that because she called here at the guesthouse where I'm Writer-in-Residence. The following Monday I appeared at the appointed time only to be told to give them my passport and return in the afternoon. And eureka! I finally got my piece of paper, which I must hand to the immigration people when I leave the country.

My parting shot to the receptionist as I left the Pondi branch of India Immigration was,
"I hope not to see you again." Thank goodness he had a sense of humour: he cracked up laughing.
1 Comment
Annette
3/4/2013 01:26:44 pm

Great to hear from you, Trysh! Hang in there, you're doing great work :)

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    Author

    After the publication of Triumph: A Journey of Healing from Incest, Trysh criss-crossed Canada speaking publicaly about her experiences. Invitations came in from other countries as well. Then the University of London, Enlgand, accepted her application to do graduate studies in Education and Women's Studies. She received her M.A. with Distinction in 1998, came home to Canada and began work on another full-length book. That book, about a man whose children were abducted by his ex-wife, their mother, uderwent innumerable revisions and rewrites before Trysh felt it ready to send out. She has also contributed to a number of anthologies, written a collection of poetry and begun a novel.

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