Kathmandu 2

31 August - 4 September (still)

Tourist sights completed, I would have left Kathmandu earlier, but I had some administrative hurdles to overcome, which are only possible to undertake in the capital city.

The first was to extend my visa.  At the border, you need to select from one of three time durations for a visa: 15 days, 30 days, or 90.  I needed 45.  From what I had researched on the internet, 30 days cost $50, and 90 days cost $125.  So I, smartly, concluded that I would take a 30 day visa at the border and extend for a further 15 (which cost $30) in Kathmandu - saving this genius some cash money in the process.  The internet seemed to confirm this was possible, so off I went to the visa centre. 

As far as visa centres go, this one was quite nice actually.  There was wifi, which you could use freely as you waited, and no forms – everything was completed at a digital kiosk.  The inevitable hurdle however came at payment.  I was expecting, as above, to pay $30 for an extra 15 days, but the cashier asked for $45.  I could not understand why, but they were leaving no room for argument, and with little choice, I paid up, feeling somewhat taken advantage of.

Feeling a little discouraged because my genius had been foiled, I was nevertheless full of energy (energy I would need in bucket loads - which is how energy is stored) for administrative hurdle number two.

The next problem I had to deal with was that my South African sim card was not working.  It had not been working for some time, and I had finally enquired with MTN (my netwrok service provider in South Africa) as to what the problem was.  The problem (besides simply that I had to deal with MTN customer "service") was that the sim card had been inactive for 90 days, and as a result, the sim card was deactivated.

No problem, I thought.  Seems reasonable.  So I emailed MTN that I was overseas (note – overseas – this is important to the rest of the story and something that baffled all MTN morons I had to deal with.  Anger much?  Just wait.) to reactivate it.  Easy as pie.  The reply I received was that the sim card was reactivated, and that all I needed to do was RICA my sim card. 

For the non-South Africans – RICA was introduced as a way to combat fraud or terrorism or the tooth fairy or something.  Basically, every sim card needs to be registered, against a person’s identification document, which is normally done at the store when purchasing the sim card.  Remember though, as I am sure you have not forgotten, I was unable to go to a store.  Why?  Exactly :).

Still with patience to spare, I figured the lovely consultant at the MTN call centre may have just overlooked the fact that I was OVERSEAS, so I replied with a friendly reminder that as I was OVERSEAS I could not RICA the sim, and needed another option.

The reply was simple – go into any store in South Africa and RICA your sim (Ahhhhhhh, idiots).

Further, they added a little sweetener.  They explained if I do not do this within 90 days of the sim being activated, the sim will once again be deactivated, but this time, this will be permanent and the number will be recycled to be used by a new customer.

This was unacceptable, and shifted my calm, relaxed demeanour to anger and urgency, as this is the number I have had all my life.  All my accounts / subscriptions etc., are tied to this number.  All my contacts use this number.  But most importantly, my banking is tied to this number, and I would not be able to transact if it changed.

After some to-ing and fro-ing with the geniuses at the contact centre over email, and getting nowhere, like any millennial, I took to social media to get an answer from MTN.  The social media responders at MTN are absolute retards (note increasing anger levels 😊), so by the time I demanded to speak to a manager, I was but just a few steps adrift from polite and whimsical.  However, this person was able to assist, and told me all I needed to do was get a signed affidavit giving authority to a family member in SA to RICA my sim on my behalf. 

Some insight into my conversations with MTN 

Geniuses

In South Africa, getting an affidavit just requires stopping into any police station, who will stamp your written declaration.  However, two police stations later in Nepal and I was no closer to having my precious stamped paper.  Out of desperation I searched for the South African consulate, which astonishingly, I found that there is one in Kathamandu.  So I headed out to it.  

I walked past the building twice, because the consulate is housed in a steel company’s office.  Strange?  I know.  The only thing that got me, was a small South African coat of arms on the wall.  When I went up to the ‘consulate’ I was greeted by a very helpful man – who I later found out was a salesman for the steel company – as well as the South African contact in Nepal – very talented man. 

The South African Consultate in Nepal.
Any recognisable features?

How about now?

He said he would be glad to stamp my affifavit, but had to check with his superiors if he was authorised to.  I understood, as the only thing tying this Nepali man to South Africa were two (very nice, albeit) South African flags on his desk.

Unfortunately, the embassy came back to state that he was not authorised to do so, and I had to find a public notary. 

With my time in Kathmandu finished, and volunteering in a remote village set to commence, I figured I would have a few days in my next big city, after my volunteering was completed to sort this out, but resigned to leave this to future Ryan to figure out.