It all started when Alison told me that I had to get registered. I knew that I had to, but I kind of brushed it off. I had to gather all of this paperwork to get it taken care of and she said that it was an awful process that took her three visits to get right. To spare me of this pain she wrote down all of the papers that I needed. The most difficult one to get was my lease from my Landlady. It only took a month from when I moved in. Like I said, it is really efficient here...not!
Luckily my company arranged for me to have a driver bring me to the FRRO in the morning since I had no clue where it was and I needed to get there early. It opened at 9:30, so as I was advised I was picked up at 7:30 and arrived to a bunch of Expats sitting around a courtyard at 7:45. I sat down and someone motioned to me that I had to put my name on a list. So I walk up the ramp to the wrong list, find the right list, don't have a pen, have the only other American give me a pen, write down my name as # 24, and then sit down. Meanwhile, I realize that my driver who I cannot communicate with at all is waiting around and probably thinks that he has to stay until I am done and bring me to the office. I start trying to explain to him that he can go and I will take and auto home, but he doesn't understand. So he grabs this other guy who still can't translate and then the only other American comes to my rescue once again...turns out he speaks Hindi. From helping me twice we soon connected over the fact that we firstly both spoke english, and secondly we were in a miserable situation.
As 9:00 rolled around, it was so hot and there was no shade. They lined us up in the order that we arrived and we stood in line for another 40 minutes until the doors opened. As we waited we started talking about the horror stories of people having to come back multiple times and not getting the paperwork, or waiting only to find out that you have the wrong stuff. We went through our checklists only to learn the Mike had forgotten his passport photos at home (and you needed 4 for the process). It then took another hour to get to the woman who took my passport and gave me a number so that I could stand in another line. I at least was out of the sun. So as I am standing in this corridor I am looking around and I see that everyone has a paper that they are filling out and that they neglected to give to me. I had to hunt this down, but no one was willing to help. I couldn't even ask Mike to translate because he was running around trying to find a photo shop (not too difficult - one was set up across the street to take advantage of situations like this).
I finally got the paper and start filling it out - people cutting and on top of each other, all grabbing for the glue and sharing pens. I get to the head of the line breaking out in nervous sweat to find out if I am going to be rejected. There were four men sitting behind the counter. One checking paper, one occasionally writing down the directions to places were people could find the info they were missing and the other two were just hanging out. For a place that is run so inefficiently you would think that they would use the extra hands on deck to actually do some work. There were arguments and people going up to the man that had the "In Charge" sign hanging over his head and complaining. I looked at him, handed him my passport, then my application, my work contract, my letter saying that I worked at the office, the letter saying that if I got in trouble that my job would take responsibility, my 4 passport photos, and then my lease...my lease that took a month to get was not Notarized. I was rejected. After 4 hours of waiting I was rejected. I couldn't believe it. I started to ask what I had to do and he was not surprisingly very rude and unhelpful. I argued and told him that he had to give me a number and that I would be able to get the notary before I was called in the line. He said fine, put me in the queue. I asked for the address of the Notary. He sighed frustratedly, turned to the guy next to him, said something in Hindi and I was handed a paper that said, "Delhi Public Notary." No address or directions...Thanks for the help!
I look at Mike who has to make photocopies after nearly making it through the process on his study visa and we venture back out into the heat. We are wandering aimlessly asking people for directions and no one knows where the DPN is. Finally we say those words and this old man on the street looks at us knowingly gesturing for us to follow him. He starts walking quickly through a maze of people then through another maze of markets and shops. I have no clue where we are but he knows were we have to go. Desperately not wanting to miss out on our place in line we chase after him. He was very quick for someone I would say was 70+ and I had trouble keeping up, and we all know I am a fast walker. We finally end at a Notary. I pay 150 rupees to get some stamps on a piece of paper -- they didn't even look at what was written on it or take any type of identifications (just a giant waste of time and money)! Then the man leads us to a photocopier, waits for us to finsih and leads us back to where we came from. We thanked him, gave him 50 rupees and headed back to the FRRO. While this was happening all I could think about was...only in India...
We got back to the FRRO and proceeded to sit for another 2 hours only hoping that we would have everything correct for the next step. I made it through the gauntlet and thanked Alison 100 times for the pre-info and Mike got rejected. He had to get paperwork sent to him from a town 40 minutes away so that he could get the info processed and head to Jaipur that weekend. What a mess!
Even though it is a highly annoying and inefficient process, the one good thing is that everyone who is here 6 months or longer has to go through it. You can't cut the line no matter who you are and you have to be present. Even if you are paying someone to stand in line for you, you have to show up and sit so you are present when you are handing in the paperwork. I cannot believe that I might have to do this all over again when I renew my visa. Here is hoping that I can avoid it by some chance.
Despite Everything...I feel proud to say that I am now an official resident of New Delhi, India
Congrats! What an intense process but you made it!
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