By-Road Buses: Come a long way

The name says “Kakadbhitta Express,” but the bus is anything but an ‘Express.’ Sleeping passengers are jolted awake every few minutes because the bus stops to pick up local passengers, who are squashed into the bus until every inch of free space is filled. As a result, the Express bus does not reach Kakadbhitta before one in the afternoon, though it could be there by eight in the morning.

A decade ago, this scene was common in any long-distance vehicle. Leaky roofs and windows that did not close were other complaints passengers made. In fact, so stressful was it to travel by these buses that those with even slightly above averages means preferred to travel by plane.

But in the past decade, long-distance travel has changed drastically. New breeds of comfortable ‘Deluxe’ and ‘A/C’ buses have emerged. They seat 30 people instead of the 42 that the regular night buses contained, which provides a lot of leg room. Their doors and windows close tight, and some of them even distribute water and peanuts. A few claim to have WiFi facilities too.

All things considered, these buses have emerged as the alternatives to planes today. Sushrika Thapa, 26, is a frequent traveler in night buses. “Deluxe buses are more expensive, but they are worth it,” she claims. “They don’t take local passengers, which makes me feel safer.”

Over the years, the hygiene situation has improved too, restrooms and eateries in particular. Sushrika agrees that while earlier women were forced to go to the jungles for a toilet break, today there are well managed toilets with running water on highways.

Food on the highway is another aspect that has changed. Until a few years ago, buses would stop at lonely eateries placed strategically in the middle of a jungle without any option nearby. Passengers were forced to eat the indifferently prepared food of questionable hygiene, with prices that exceeded all bounds of reason.

“Drivers and conductors were led in for special dinners, because without their special patronage, the eatery wouldn’t survive” remembers Pradeep Tamang, 36, who has been a bus conductor for six years. “No matter what the passengers ate, the bus staff would be treated to good, fresh meals.”

But today there are so many options that the competition has forced buses and eateries to improve standards for passengers. Bus staff may be treated to extra pieces of meat, but passengers also report that they are satisfied with the quality and freshness of the food on highways.

But one thing that has not changed much is the entertainment in buses. The night-buses-of-old had cassette players in which bus staff played songs of their choice: which were invariably either dohoris or old Hindi songs. Today, songs are played via MP3 players and pen drives. But the choice of songs remains the same. “The old Kumar Sanu songs, I enjoy them a lot,” says Abbas Alam, 24, who travels once or twice a month to Birgunj on these buses.

For bus operators, the audio-visual entertainment is more to entertain the passengers than themselves. “Nowadays you don’t even have to bother with songs, you can just put on a movie and let the passengers relax,” says Ganesh Shrestha, 31, office staff of Mero Transport. Though the bus staffs choose the entertainment, they play the passengers’ choices if they give songs in portable devices.

With so many facilities for travelers, the one thing that continues to impede their travel experience is the roads. Suman Subedi, driver for 16 years, has driven every kind of bus in this duration. He sums up the situation best when he says: “Deluxe buses are faster than old night buses. But they reach their destination slower, because the roads are so bad.” The buses may be new and improved, but the passengers will not feel much better about them unless they can reach their destination on time on good roads.

Despite the advent of these luxury buses, the older kinds of long-distance buses are still running too. One attraction is their price, which is Rs. 300-400 cheaper than Deluxe buses. Besides, like planes, the Deluxe buses don’t carry much luggage. “They don’t have hoods to tie up luggage,” says Pradeep, “and on long distance travel, people will always need to ferry stuffs like rice and potatoes.”

The proliferation of different kinds of buses has given travelers a wide range of choices. Travelers can take their pick from different combinations of price ranges and facilities like luggage, comfort, hygiene and safety.

What’s in a name?

Even until a few years ago, buses had sensible names like Agni and Makalu. But increasingly, there is the trend of naming buses after Mumbai movies. ‘Dabbang,’ ‘Bodyguard,, and ‘Chennai Express’ are just a few examples. There are also ‘Jai Ho’ and ‘Singham’ Travels.

When probed about these names, bus operators seemed to think they aid business. “These buses run to border areas and rural villages,” says Ganesh Shrestha, office staff of Metro Buses at Kalanki. “And they seem popular among the passengers.” Indeed, most of the names belong to action movies that are known to be popular in rural areas.

Of late, there are many buses climbing the bandwagon. One bus to Dharan is called ‘Loveism’ which is not even the name of a movie but simply a name that may attract youngsters. Indeed, the increasing number of buses with such attractive names is proof enough that these buses are sustainable.

Life on the move

If your back is aching from spending one night in a bus, think of conductors who sleep in a bus every night. “The bus departs from Kathmandu at four in the afternoon and arrives at Itahari at six in the morning,” says Pradeep Tamang, a conductor. “I spend a few hours at home, and then it’s time to leave. The bus departs from Itahari again at four.”

Pradeep gets no day off on weekends; he is on the move seven days a week, five weeks a month. The only time he really gets to rest is when the roads are closed due to strikes or landslides. At these times, he has spent up to a week at one place. Festivals like Dashain are times of even greater pressure for buses, with a major chunk of the Valley’s residents leaving for their native places. Bus companies hire extra drivers and conductors during these times, so that everyone can take turns to go home and celebrate with family. Pradeep is so tired of this constant moving that he would like to retire from life as a conductor and do some small business at home instead.

A driver’s life is slightly easier in this regard. Since their job on the bus is more stressful than a conductor’s, they only work for part of the way. Some buses change drivers at Hetauda. This is more popular with buses that go east, which have a high flow of buses and passengers. Drivers either live in Hetauda or are provided a lodge to sleep in.

Buses that go west are less frequent, and their drivers often don’t have permanent arrangements at resting stops. Chhatra Bahadur Magar, 45, who drives a bus to and from Baglung, shared that he and another driver came all the way from Baglung, and they changed places midway. Either way, drivers and conductors are constantly in need of rest and craving to spend time with their families.

Published in Republica on May 9, Page 10

Tiny tots, heavy loads

Shriyam Parajuli knows the names of all the months in sequence, can do double-digit addition and subtraction, match the names of animals with their young, and write her name in Nepali and complete sentences about her life in English. She is only five years old, and she is no child prodigy. She has learnt all this in preparation for the flurry of entrance tests for Grade One that she attended last week. Her mother Anita barely had time to rest that week, picking her daughter from one entrance exam and dropping her off at another.

This story is very familiar to parents with preschool-age children. For this is the season of school admissions where one or the other reputed school in the Valley has an entrance test everyday. In recent years, these exams have taken on mythical proportions, they are no less of a competition than getting into renowned engineering or medical schools. But these children are much, much younger than their teenaged counterparts, and the premature burden of examinations sits heavy on these fragile shoulders.

Just as SLC graduates go to bridge courses and Plus Two graduates to MBBS preparation classes, many toddlers attend coaching classes specially tailored for entrance examinations. The tuition costs start from Rs. 5,000 for a three-month course to Rs. 15,000 for a fifteen-day course. Entrance examinations include English, Nepali, Mathematics and Science, and the coaching syllabus is tailored accordingly.

“We provide the service that the market demands,” says Rajan Subedi, Education Coordinator of St. Xavier’s Academy at Bag Bazaar. The children are coached for an hour and a half for three months, during which they give weekly exams on model question papers. They are not required to pass these exams to graduate.

Parents who do not trust the indifferent teaching methods of coaching institutions tutor their children at home. They use specially prepared books modeled on entrance examinations of reputed schools. Anita, Monitoring and Evaluation Assistant at WWF, reports that she spent more than Rs. 1,000 on the books alone. And for those parents who want to increase the chances of their child’s admission, there is the even more exclusive method of home tutors. Alumni and schoolchildren from schools like St. Xavier’s and St. Mary’s are highly in demand for these services.

“Since we don’t even know which schools to choose, having someone who went to a reputed school tutor my child was very helpful,” says Chandra Shivakoti, a resident of Koteshwor, who hired a tutor for about three months at an average cost of Rs.100 per day. “Alumni are familiar with the system and examination style at their school and can guide the child through it well.” His daughter was admitted to St. Mary’s two years ago.

After such heavy preparation, parents develop high expectations of their children. “Please make my months of effort successful,” one parent desperately prayed to her child as she sent him off to give the entrance at St. Xavier’s School. But some tiny tots do not even know that they have exams, let alone the significance of the moment. They end up becoming nervous, some even crying during their exams. More so since the hustle and bustle of the examination is such a contrast to the protected environs at preschools where they are treated very gently and in small groups.

Schools do their best to handle these tumultuous moments. “We bring the parents in if the child panics,” says Neeraj Thapa, school staff of St. Xavier’s School. But at the end of the day, these children are very young: many end up dropping the examination out of nervousness even if they know the answers. In such environments, some parents consider it an achievement if their child simply manages to coolly sit through the examination at a reputed school.

Most preschools today keep these pressures in mind when they design the curriculum. Children are taught well in advance that they should go to the toilet before they enter the examination hall, they should say “excuse me” if they need to leave in the middle, and other such technical details. “Among other things, my child was taught to have eye-to-eye contact with the interviewer during the interview,” says Muna Shakya*, mother of a five-year-old daughter. Not surprisingly, the curriculum of preschools too is modeled on the entrance question papers of reputed schools.

But after all this preparation, not every child gets into the school of their (parents’) choice. At St. Xavier’s, one of the most reputed schools of Nepal, more than 5,000 children compete for 200 seats, meaning every child has less than four percent chance of getting into the school. Other schools, like St. Mary’s or Little Angels, receive fewer applications per seat, but the competition is still very tough.

Parents are aware of this, and as backup, register their children at many schools for entrance exams. The week of entrance examinations is one scramble after another for these parents who try to make it to all the schools without stressing themselves and upsetting their work timings too much. “When I went to these schools, I saw many familiar faces doing the rounds with me,” remembers Anita.

But the parents’ stress may be the least of the problems, since the children themselves are at risk of taking the examination results too seriously.

Bina Gurung, founder of Bina’s Keta Keti Pre-School, has been working with children for many years and is familiar with the post-examination trauma that toddlers face. “I hear them telling everyone excitedly that they will go to school XYZ,” says Bina, “but of course, not every child does, and those who don’t become sad.”

In an effort to prepare them for alternate possibilities, she tells them that entrance examinations are like lottery, it is just a matter of luck. But this does not convince every child. Parents offhandedly say that their child has failed and take the child to the next school. But the stamp of ‘failure’ sticks on the child’s mind, sometimes causing trauma and affecting the child’s confidence for long. Ultimately, parents’ hunt for the ‘best ‘school in town leaves the child with the impression of how important it is to compete and win, and not necessarily of the importance of good education.

Instead, avoiding competitive examinations at such an early age can help make the education system child-friendly. Suprabhat Ghimire, President of Guardians’ Association Nepal, suggests that schools choose some other method for admission, like maybe first-come-first-serve, which can deflect such trauma.

In recent times, schools have also been facing criticism from educationists who question the very point of entrance examinations. Labeling such competitions ‘unhealthy,’ Bina goes on to state that schools only want to take brilliant students so that they don’t have to work too hard at teaching them. Indeed, schools should be the place to start learning, not a place where your abilities are questioned before you even start.

Each child has different capacities, and not all of them should, or even can, be judged by the same standards. The priority should be getting the best possible education for the child, but without putting the child to pressures more than his/her capacity.

*Name changed

Published in Republica on 4 April  2014, Page 10

Women at work: What keeps them back?

Theoretically, it is the age of equal opportunities. Maybe more than equal, since many offices give preference to females during the recruitment phase. But still, many women do not feel completely comfortable in office environments, even those who have been given every opportunity to excel. The duties of home and hearth, coupled with some unwritten rules of discrimination, contribute to haunt women at workplaces.

Gyanu Pandey, Professor of Nepali Literature, once used to be a journalist. She sent word to a prominent politician that she would come to interview him the next day. When she reached his house, she was not given audience for a long time. She asked his PA to tell him that she was waiting, and only then did the politician appear. “Oh it’s you!” said he. “But my PA told me it was a woman!”

Such outright discrimination, when the politician had assumed that a woman cannot be a journalist, is rare today but has not been completely eradicated. Younger women continue to be underestimated and passed over just because they are women.

Shikha Bagla, an aspiring Chartered Accountant currently doing her articleship (three-year internship for CAs), feels that her male colleagues are handed important assignments more often than her. “Women can’t really handle major projects” is something she gets a lot, but when she studies her male colleagues’ reports to see if they have done anything better, she finds no difference in the quality.

In this era of positive discrimination, such direct bias has reduced by much. And yet, women continue to face insubordination from juniors like clerks and drivers, or even clients.

Umi Joshi, administrative assistant at WWF, wonders if it is because women are so soft and feminine. “Do we have to be commanding like men to be obeyed?” she asks thoughtfully, bringing up a complicated question of what femininity means in the first place. Is femininity always soft? Should women learn to be forceful to be heard at work? A cursory analysis may say so, but the truth is far more complicated than an easy yes or no answer.

One reason women lose their confidence at work is when femininity is discussed in traditional perspectives. Shikha gets uncomfortable when her male colleagues talk about actresses and models, and not in the most polite language. They ignore the presence of female colleagues, and the fact that sexist jokes may offend them. Sometimes, the talk may veer to personal issues, for example, someone may say “I need to get married because I need a dishwasher.” Reacting to such statements invites conflicts or the label of ‘feminist,’ while not reacting makes the women feel insulted.

Advices like “Take the Teej fast, as every good woman should,” or “Girls shouldn’t drink” abound in workplaces. Public space is just an extension of private space for these commentators, effective dumping ground for private ideologies. Women surrounded by such ideologies day in and day out end up feeling harassed for no reason, when these issues are unrelated to work and should have no bearing on the work environment.

Our social rules are changing, and many have learnt to keep offending opinions to themselves at work. But handling relationships at work remains a problem for women. For Shikha, keeping good relations with clients is a part of her duties. A man in her post may easily ask a client out to coffee or even drinks, but if a woman does the same, it gives out a different message. Things may get out of hand pretty soon and they start getting late night personal calls. When they try to keep their distance, clients complain that this particular woman is rude. Senior management do not understand such predicaments, and may instead turn around and reprimand junior female officers for not keeping good relations with clients.

Women feel comfortable if there are senior women in the management with whom they can talk about these issues. Having senior women in the management has many other benefits. “A woman can come in and tell me it’s that time of the month, and I will understand,” says Raveena Desraj Shrestha, Chief Business Officer at Mega Bank.

Raveena used to be a dresser in her younger days, paying a lot of attention to grooming. This immediately slotted her in the ‘Barbie Doll’ category for many, and she had to go out of her way to prove that she had brains. But now that she herself is in a senior position, she makes sure her juniors are well groomed, and does not tolerate any judgments based on appearances.

But that is not all. Hira Acharya, Under Secretary at HSEB, recounts that sometimes women hesitate to ask even work-related questions to supervisors, for fear of being laughed at. Even more, they are afraid of hearing the predictable “No wonder you don’t know much, women never do!” Surrounded by men, there is the pressure to prove that you are capable. If not, you risk labeling the entire female fraternity a failure. In more diverse environments, everyone feels comfortable to speak up about their doubts and challenges.

Women are known to be empathetic and intuitive and international researches tell us that women are sincere at work. Testimonials from employees in widely read business magazines tell us that women make good managers. And yet, women are mostly seen only in low to mid-level management, and not at the top.

“Theoretically, the opportunities are out there for anyone to grab,” says Umi, “And yet, there is this invisible glass ceiling which restricts women from advancing after a certain step.”

In the previous eras of homo-socializing, when men were friends with men only and women with women, women had few senior persons to socialize with. But men often socialized before or after work with colleagues, which created a bond between them. When two people compete for promotion, this bond may prove a crucial decisive factor, all else considered.

Many women of that generation bear the grudge of being left out of the promotion loop. “Why is it that I’m one of the first two females to become a Professor in the Department of Nepali Literature?” asks Gyanu who only got the coveted highest post in academia a few months ago. “It’s not that there were no qualified women before me, but somehow it was easy to pass them over.”

In these changing times, socializing in mixed groups has become normal. And yet, women often do not have the time to socialize because of responsibilities at home. With the birth of children, demands on time increase dramatically for women, but only marginally for men. No wonder when asked about what can be done to make offices women-friendly, Raveena does not skip a beat before saying “crèches.” These responsibilities mean that women may not have as much energy as a male counterpart to give to work. This also means that women depart from work earlier than male counterparts, cutting out their socializing time.

Ultimately, we come to the question of how to change things for the better. As a gender studies expert, Gyanu is wary of playing the gender card all the time. “The problems women face are definitely bigger, but focusing only on women may create imbalance in society in favor of women,” says she. The focus should be on changing all of society, not just women.

International pressures and scrutiny have raised our awareness of gender issues, and most offices, especially multinationals, have already prohibited discrimination. Testimonials from women indicate that increasing not just the quality but also quantity of women in workplaces contributes to women-friendly environments. With more and more women joining the workforce, perhaps the day is not far when women can feel as comfortable at workplace as their male counterparts.

Published in Republica oon 28 March 2014, Page 11

Nepalis in Wonderland: Life for DV holders

Once an American met an African, and was surprised that he had a house back in Africa.

“I thought all Africans lived in the wild,” said the American, “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said the African. “Before I came to America, I used to think streets in America were paved with gold.”

Although this story is a bit too extreme, it does establish the kind of ideas we have about America. Most of us tend to take the adage “land of opportunities” a little too literally, and believe a life in America is a bed of roses. Diversity Visa is the easiest way to enter and settle in the US, but how “golden” is the life of DV holders?

When Saru Khatiwada first landed in the US two years ago, she kept looking for ways to validate her education. She had a Master’s degree in Nepali. She enquired with friends and universities if her degree gave her enough credits for further study. It was a long time before she resigned herself to the fact that her higher education was pretty much useless. 

Saru’s story is quite representative of how little DV holders are prepared for viable education and job opportunities. Most expect miracles, but cracks soon appear in the image of a dreamland when they start looking for jobs. 

After two months of trying unsuccessfully for white collar jobs, Uttam Adhikari, an engineer and lecturer back in Nepal, was running out of money that he had brought with him when he came to the US. With no option in sight, he joined a clothing store in 2007, but realized that this was just the beginning of his ordeal. 

Major Challenges

Communication is one issue that affects most DV holders’ dreams in a major way. Whenever Uttam had gone to job interviews, interviewers had congratulated him on his good English. But they never called him back. 

“You might believe you speak good English, but when you try to talk to people, you find out how inadequate your communication skills actually are,” says Uttam. Customers complained to the management about his enunciation, and that was when he realized it was not enough to know correct English. He needed to understand people’s tones and accents, and respond competently in order to survive. 

Most people are also unprepared for the backbreaking physical labor in their initial jobs, since without communication skills or an American degree, white-collar jobs are simply not available to newcomers.

Birochan Nepal advises that you need to be prepared for every kind of work and not pine after your chosen field, at least in the early phases. Many, like Uttam and Harimaya Khatiwada, shared how being on their feet for nine to ten hours at a stretch exhausted them mentally and physically in the first few months.

Financial stability is another factor that is drastically different from Nepal. Having to live on weekly checks, as is the custom in the US for most blue-collar jobs, is initially shocking to some. 

Harimaya who recently gave birth to a baby is not working right now. Her family is supported solely by her husband’s income. Although DV holders get financial help to take care of their babies, Harimaya sometimes panics when she thinks about how to manage if her husband is out of work for a prolonged period of time.

Those who have been around for longer have figured out ways to support themselves in case of such emergencies; to make the best use of facilities like unemployment benefits. But the early years, when you are just trying to make sense of the system around you, can be incapacitating. 

“Everything is new,” says Ramchandra KC, “from how you rent an apartment to how you take trains and buses, how you do medical insurance, even how you order coffee.” Most migrants agree that it takes at least a year or so to just learn these basics. 

Without proper guidance about these basics, a person can spend years taking detours into jobs they do not want, just because they have no idea how to proceed. Uttam equates this time to being a “crow lost in fog”. Forget unknown facilities, sometimes they cannot even make the best of simple job opportunities they have. 

Harimaya decided to quit her first job because it was too strenuous. And then 16 checks her employer gave her bounced, one after another. Thankfully, Harimaya and her husband had the presence of mind to warn their employer about legal repercussions of his actions, and demand due payment. But those without basic communication skills and network have no option but to continue with such low-paying or deceptive employers, and may fall into dire financial straits. 

Prospects available

Though their life is full of struggles, for many it’s worth it. Women, especially, have found prospects not available to them in Nepal. They are free of the familial and social burdens they faced in Nepal, and use the opportunity to explore educational and professional interests. 

“Even simple things like driving, learning to deal with people, are achievements,” says Sunita Tiwari.

The important question, in the midst of all these opened doors, is how to continue the careers they had in Nepal. With the pressures of a job, and sometimes the responsibilities of family, people get busy in fulfilling their basic needs. Even with facilities like loans and grants for school, it is a veritable struggle to focus on a chosen career path. 

Most Nepalis do not have degrees from accredited universities, and end up redoing credits which puts them behind by a few years. Very often it comes down to a technical versus non-technical career: people with education in technical fields have better chances of progressing in their chosen career path.

Ramchandra KC, who was an editor in Nepal, is soon going to enroll in a university for a master’s degree in editing and publishing, and those from IT or engineering fields find technical jobs with a little bit of initial struggle. But Harimaya, a singer, is still struggling to find adequate professional forums to teach singing while she strives for financial security through other jobs. Birochan Nepal, who was a lawyer in Nepal, has put legal career on hold to focus on his American life. 

Birochan still keeps up with the developments in his field in Nepal. Even though he may have fallen behind his contemporaries, Birochan feels he can catch up when he returns to Nepal. Over the years Birochan has been adding to his property in Nepal, with the ultimate aim of coming back. Again, this is very reflective of the general sentiment of DV holders who plan to return to Nepal in future. Most take their stay in the US as an opportunity that will ultimately benefit them as well as Nepal.

Changing Diaspora

With time, the experiences of DV holders have changed. These days most people who go to the US have someone or the other who knows their way around and are ready to offer guidance. This makes a lot of difference, cutting newcomers’ time of being “lost like a crow in fog” very short. 

The growing network of Nepalis has other benefits. Lack of social support was keenly felt by the first generation. Isolation coupled with unexpectedly strenuous jobs had driven many to frustration and depression. 

But today, many cities have communities of Nepalis that celebrate regular get-togethers. These meetings provide forums to learn and share feelings for newcomers, and fulfill the important function of alleviating homesickness. 

And then, credit with banks is very important in the US, since most financial transactions are carried out through credit cards and not cash. Banks often do not trust newcomers with loans or big purchases, and require co-signatories who can guarantee payment on credit. With the help of financially established Nepalis, newcomers can easily take these steps.

Such conveniences were not available to the first generation of DV holders, who had to navigate these steps by themselves. They perhaps bore more than their fair share of psychological and financial burdens of migration. Successive generations, with their assistance, have found it much easier to start a new life.

Our attraction to DV is neither new nor unexpected. Migration for work and educational opportunities is an age-old process. DV, though more dramatic than other migrations, is just the latest link in the chain. It will continue to be attractive to Nepalis until the living standards of Nepal are at par with the West.

Today, with better flow of information about the good, bad, and ugly of life in the US, those who apply for the DV are much better prepared than earlier generations. Unlike Uttam who felt like a newborn baby when he first landed up in the US, DV holders today have a much more realistic idea of the struggles they have to face.  The rewards they work toward in the land of opportunities keep them motivated during their struggles.

Side Story:

Brisk business—DV consultancies

Those who enter the US through student or dependant visas often struggle to acquire basic legal and financial standing in the country, and this impedes their journey towards the American dream of a prosperous life. Since DV provides many of these facilities, it eliminates many steps of this struggle. No wonder, it is viewed as the easiest way to get a foothold in the American society.

More than eight million people apply for the DV worldwide, of which 300,000 or more are from Nepal alone. 6,028 Nepalis won the DV lottery in 2014, which is significantly higher than the 4,370 who won the lottery in 2013.

This craze has created a niche for services that facilitate the process of acquiring a DV. Even though the US Embassy recommends that you fill the DV form yourself, or with the help of trusted family members, many people do not feel confident about navigating the instructions of the US Embassy on their own. Enter “consultancies”, which, with their official demeanor and seemingly know-it-all approach, can walk you through all the alien-looking forms with ease.

“We cater to about 5000 to 6000 clients during the DV season,” says Surendra Shrestha, managing director at Atlink Consultancy in New Road. Jyotsna Rajbhandari, program and training coordinator at E-spot Nepal, a popular consultancy in the heart of New Road, also offered a similar number. But Sumitra Pokhrel at E-zone says that even that number is just a rough estimate. 

“The numbers easily cross 7000 to 8000,” she said. 

DV season, or the time duration when you can fill DV forms, lasts only a month. And in that short duration, these consultancies make a killing. At Rs 100-200, or sometimes even more for every form they fill, these consultancies do brisk business for one month. E-spot and E-zone both employ seasonal staff to cater to the overwhelming rush of people during the DV filling season. 

Not only consultancies but also photo studios and stationary shops do good business during the DV season. Every photo studio and cyber center on the roadside will be buzzing with activity. Signs like “Fill the DV form here, with guarantee” are commonly seen in many of these outlets. Since they charge money for a service that people can fill for free if they want, it is no wonder they want to net every client they can.

However, most of these mushrooming businesses will disappear right after the DV season, and they have no compunctions advertizing their infallibility. Professional DV consultancies are more cautious. “On average, about 1-1.5 percent of applicants get the first letter,” says Surendra. 

During the rest of the year, the permanent staffs are busy helping clients with DV processing, procuring and lining up documents. Their services include walking their clients through preparations of documents required for visas, as well as translating documents and providing counseling. For a small fee, most will provide any kinds of reference letters, whether or not the referee exists. 

Even at a cursory glance, it is easy to see how our craze for the land of opportunities has generated a booming and thriving business. They say necessity is the mother of invention, and our need for a utopia seems to be a great one indeed, if just the desire to set foot in America can create and sustain a mini-industry. 

Published in Republica on March 14, page 7