It took one hour to get to the Embassy in Leroy Place on a hot summer day. Mr. Dig Bahadur
Tamang was helping a lady with visa application when I arrived.
Nepali Embassy in America sits on a rented property,
a reminiscent of old Victorian style design in the middle of other embassies
from the third world. You could see flags flying in the front windows of almost
every building in the vicinity. The subdivision appears to be a residential
subdivision when built, later turned into office buildings when market for
office housing grew. There are still posh residential houses near the Embassy
building west up to Massachusetts
Avenue.
To serve for the tourists’ need, almost all houses facing
the main street, Connecticut Avenue,
are retail stores. The abundance of nearby embassy has helped local retailers
sustain and flourish; especially instant photo and postal services. You could
compare this section of Connecticut
Avenue to Baneshwar Road, where all front facing
houses are either kirana pasal or chiya pasal. In a similar distance where you
see Everest International in Kathmandu sits a Holiday Inn in Woodley Zoo
Park. The distance, of
course, is proportionately enlarged to relate the size of the two countries.
Once you enter the embassy, you will see two doors to your
left and a stairwell at the end of hallway. The first door leads to an office
with two tables, and the second door leads to another office with one table.
Both offices have AC units stacked by the window, which not only rattle, but
occasionally leak.
The upper story was reserved for officers of higher ranking.
Only selected customers would be allowed to enter to the upper stories.
I ventured to the first door and offered Namaste to Mr.
Tamang. He, at that time, was helping an Asian lady with visa applications, who
worked for some plastic surgeon that had made fortunes. The surgeon had wanted to
visit Nepal
for some unknown welfare cum tourism mission, and therefore dispatched this
Asian lady to Nepali embassy. Mr. Dig turned to me once the lady left, and
began helping. He gave me a glue to stick pictures in the application. He
checked my application for completeness. Upon reviewing, he pronounced my
application approvable. I was about to get my passport renewed.
With a relief that my passport was soon to be renewed, I
began to take a second look around the office. There were two office tables in
Mr. Tamang’s office, the other one being vacant at that time. In the corner sat
a fax machine covered with a several layers of dust, at least 15 years old, on
top of a dilapidated iron table with wheels; the kind you seen in old hospitals.
Behind the two office chairs were two cupboards, either of those would safely outcompete
the fax machine on their antiquity.
Despite the old age furniture and amenities, Mr. Tamang sat
on his chair with full confidence, smile and professionalism, and dispensed help
to customers who ranged from Alaska to Vermont. Some wanted to
know when they will receive renewed passports, other wanted to know the fees.
Some had got green card had misspelled names, for that matter preferred to
‘update’ passport to reflect the error. You would not bother applying to US
official for trifle correction. The risks were high. Embrace the error and correct
Nepali passport, which defines your nationality, origin and identity. The
primary advantage, you would not leave a trail at Nepali office that may haunt
you later. You probably already had enough with INS, which most likely had
delayed your application, or even lost it. Almost everyone is familiar with the
notoriety of INS office when it comes to customer services. Applying to Nepali
office was a risk free business.
Let me go back to Mr. Tamang. He was polite and informed.
While he was helping me with my passports, he received three calls from
customers. More than likely all three customers were Nepali, but two of them
chose to speak English. Dig Tamang would help them in the language of
customer’s choice. In addition to his phone etiquette, he wore a shirt and a
tie, which sharply contradicted the atmosphere, not to mention his supervisors.
The moment he was completing my passport renewal, his cell
phone rang. This time from his brass: His Excellency the Ambassador Mr. Chalise.
Apparently there was a high priority business, and Mr. Chalise knew well higher
priorities were not delivered to office phones. They would go to personal cell
phone.
Unfortunately for me, the hot summer day was not only
steaming and humid, but a little more. It was the month of Asadh when Nepali
fiscal year ended. If you know bureaucracy, you would know this. Either you
spend the money before the fiscal year ends, or you lose it. The fiscal year
would end in two weeks. There was some unspent money in the embassy’s account.
Spending money was a high priority, helping a customer was a trifle business,
unless the application had a red tape.
Upon calling Mr. Tamang, Dr. Chalise stormed out of his
office to his car and waited Mr. Tamang to join him. Harischandra Ghimire,
another embassy official, had previously joined Dr. Chalise to Car shopping.
A sleek Toyota Highlander had magnetized Dr. Chalise from
quite some time. He had read several reviews on Kelly Blue Book and ZDNet.com.
The dashboard LCD with rearview camera, low emission/high mileage, electric
vehicle mode switch, and a GPS navigator, a fully loaded Highlander had it all.
By now, Dr. Chalise had read and reread Toyota Highlander reviews to qualify
for a salesman.
Apparently a rowdy Korean salesman from local car dealer had
called Dr. Chalise to notify of the latest addition to his inventory. It was a
Highlander. Immediately, a diplomatic visit to local car retailer became a high
priority. Because Mr. Tamang was knowledgeable about cars, Dr. Chalise gave him
an emergency circular over his cell phone to join him. Another official, Mr.
Harishchandra Ghimire, who would be able to sign passports, was also summoned.
My prospect of passport renewal doomed. Korean dealer’s call
had spoiled my chances. I was devastated. I had taken a day off from my work to
renew. Working in America
had its own demerits. Taking another day off was difficult. I began begging Mr.
Tamang, which delayed him a little to join his top brass. Thirty long seconds
passed, and Mr. Ghimire appeared at the door a warning. Mr. Tamang was too
late.
My begging transferred to Mr. Ghimire from Mr. Tamang. I
expressed my distress and explained my urgency.
“All of us at the embassy have to attend an important meeting” he
continued, “miting bhae pacchi k lagchha?”