George Verghese, professor at an American university, walks into Bangalore's gleaming new arrival terminal, but his delight is shortlived
George Verghese, professor at an American university, walks into Bangalore's gleaming new arrival terminal, but his delight is shortlivedNearly two years after my last visit to Bangalore, what a treat it was to land at the new airport, gleaming and bright at midnight. The lines moved quickly past the infrared camera and the health-check desk, then through immigration. Bags plucked off the belt, a few minutes at the duty-free shop to pick up some last gifts, and then past the customs desk to the waiting car.
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Glitter: A view of the new airport. The professor ran into a customs official who demanded a bribe.
pic/ Vinodkumar T |
Well, actually not so quickly to the waiting car.
The customs officer asked "What do you have in there?" He was pointing to the small bag only slightly bigger than a book slung over my shoulder. I opened the zipper and pulled out my travel papers and the
netbook I was carrying, a shiny black Asus, small and basic.
"A netbook," I said. "For my own use, and costing less than $300." I thoughtthat would be the end of it.
"Are you carrying any other computer or laptop?" I mentioned that I had my laptop too, in my pull-on bag.
"Please walk to the desk there."
At the desk I was told that the allowance was for only one laptop, and the second would have to be charged a 36 per cent duty. I indicated my surprise, saying that the second machine was just an inexpensive netbook, not a regular laptop, and also that Bangalore was the last place I'd have expected a fuss about laptops, high-tech city that it is. I repeated that the machines were for my own use only, and would leave the country with me in ten days. They asked what kind of work I did, and I said I was a professor at a university in the US.
Couldn't they write the netbook into my passport or something, to verify that I take it out? Apparently not, because this was a US passport, and anyway they didn't do that kind of thing anymore.
By this time a supervisor walked over, and was filled in by the officer at the desk. The supervisor, whose badge announced him as ''' (I have the name, in case anyone wants to follow up), repeated what I'd been already told. I resigned myself to paying the fine, around 108 dollars.
As the customs officer calculated the fine, I asked how I could pay, and whether a credit card would be possible. I was told that the fine would have to be paid in rupees. I asked where I could change my dollars, and was told there was a bank in the lobby.
At this point the supervisor, who was still nearby, sidled up again to where the customs officer and I were standing, and asked whether I needed a receipt. "If not, then you can simply pay here in dollars, 100 dollars, and it will be all right."
"I will need a receipt," I answered, determined to not let him get his hands on my cash.
"In that case I can't help you," said the supervisor. It's all about helping the traveller, apparently!
I went and changed my dollars at the bank, then returned and paid my fine,and walked quickly to the waiting car.
Bye bye, airport. Hello, Bangalore.
