They love to do this weird introduction thing like "Hello it is Gautam I study Computer ENgineery at Chandigarh University." That's nice, I don't care. I don't know everyone with my first name, fuck I don't even know everyone with my last name. I don't know if this is ego, a language barrier thing, or both.
I couldn't give you the answer, but can confirm they love to do that shit.
Mild PL: if I go to hell, it will be because I once worked in the foreign admissions department of my local university. While I don't particularly like these places functioning as a way for the rest of the world to gain permission to live in my country, most of the applicants could at least pretend they wanted to come here to learn. The Nigerian who hoped to one day become Minister of Transport back home? Good on you, son! Hope you get it!
But the jeets. My God, the jeets. Every cover letter, every single one, began and continued in exactly the same self-important tone outlined above: "Greetings of the day! Proud to introduce myself as Ranjit Pranjit/Poojeet Loojeet/etc", as if you should already know who jeet #5442989898 is and he's doing you a favor. Beyond that these were very clearly copypaste jobs where they'd simply changed the name of the university they were applying to, if indeed they'd bothered to do that. A huge number of them excitedly detailed how they were looking forward to seeing the sights in the capital (we were nowhere near the capital), and one memorable one mentioned our large international airport (lmao no). They were required to provide proof of English proficiency, and a good half of them simply sent a screenshot of their Duolingo stats despite that explicitly being listed as not sufficient proof (but then, they would have to be able to read to know that). In fact, most of them would just submit documents basically at random, very often their medical history, which, knowing what I know now, seems like something we both should have requested and been incredibly stringent about, for fear of reintroducing the bubonic plague.
What's particularly damning about it all is that the department had a blanket ban on applications from the Sylhet region of Bangladesh. Those guys, apparently, were simply too prone to submitting fraudulent documents and fishy qualifications, and so couldn't be trusted - but the rest of the subcontinent? They're fine, apparently, let's shoehorn in another thousand of the fuckers. Needless to say, catch
anyone in the department off the record, and they knew full well most of these applicants were simply hoping to get permission to enter the country then flee into some filthy bughive and live out their life in the grey market economy.
The thing that broke me was when management happily declared we were now acting as a call center as well. By about my third time of struggling to decipher a thick, poo-stained accent down a phone line from the other side of the world ("GLEETINGS OF THE DAY SAAR I AM TO BE CALL ON BEHALF OF MY COUSIN"/"I'm afraid we can only discuss this with the actual applicant"/"OH NO I AM TO BE ACTUAL APPLICANT SAAR"/click) I simply turned off incoming calls, and nobody ever noticed.
