hit me on my celly

You may have read cliche articles about cell phones in the developing world - saving people from poverty, forming a source of identity, allowing a leap-frogging of old technology, etc. Well, turns out that's only half the story. Actually, a cell-phone is ridiculously hard to come by in Mumbai. I started out my day with one goal - get a cheap cell phone with an Indian SIM card so I could keep in touch with all of my Indian friends. I asked the friendly fellow in need of orthodonture at the front desk, and he pointed me to a Vodafone store down the street. Ok, I've heard of vodafone, this sounds super legit. So I walk down the street and find that it's closed. it's about 9:45 (there you go jet-lag), so I decide to walk around the block and come back at 10. Still no dice. The friendly dry-cleaner next door tells me they open at 11. I take off, looking for more cell phones. Airtel - never heard of it, but sounds quasi-legit. After pointing at a phone, I learn that it's going to cost me 1800 rupees. While that sounded like a lot when it was the prize for the 3rd question on Slumdog Millionaire, it's actually about 40 bucks. I can handle that - I've got a grant from the South Asia Initiaitve! However, it turns out the old adage about money and hapiness also pertains to cell phones in India. The friendly cell-phone-walla told me I needed a proof of residence form. Haha. I'm not a resident. Some piece of paper from the hotel. Ok, I can do that. I'll be right back.

Back at the hotel... this piece of paper is very complicated. it requires me to sign in many places. It requires many different bootleg-wanna-be-official stamps. And it requires four levels of hotel staff to bring to fruition. 45 minutes later, a rickshaw is waiting to take me to a super-legit vodafone store a few miles away, which, the hotel staff repeatedly assure me, will be the answer to my prayers. There amidst a mob of other would-be-cell-phone-users, I pick out a Rs 1200 nokia (back of the net) and then get in line to pay for it (which takes absurdly long - I don't think they have ever seen a Visa card before - and requires 3 more pieces of paper). Then the fun starts. Turns out, the piece of paper from the Executive Enclave doesn't carry quite the cache that you might expect from the Enclave. After a phone call to the Enclave front desk, I find out that my efforts have been useless, and I hop on a return rickshaw. (which, by the way, are insanely cheap. A 10 minute ride was 15 rupees - about 30 cents). Back at the hotel, the staff has a new plan. They've mobilized a wandering-sim-card-wallah, who sells kinda-bootleg vodafone sim cards door-to-door. Back of the net, part deaux. After providing him a passport sized photo and 25 more signatures, I finally had the prepaid sim card of my dreams. Two hours, 500 rupees and 2 more hotel officials later, my phone was charged with minutes and ready to rock. Now, if only I had friends.