Buying a car in Nepal, let alone, securing license plates,
takes great patience. Here’s a synopsis of our
ordeal—the tip of the iceberg compared to what USAID and the embassy went
through to make sure our purchase was duty free.
Prior to getting a license plate, the US Embassy kindly
interceded on our behalf to help secure a letter—eventually approved by several
ministries from the Government of Nepal—indicating that in fact, because of my
affiliation with USAID, our purchase was duty free. That, of course, required a
bill of sale, a blue book (a written record of who owns the car), a letter from
the UN (the employer of the previous owner) and many stamps and photographs. It
took more than a month to secure the approval letter.
With the approval letter in hand, we dutifully approached
the Zonal Department of Transportation. Fortunately, Betsy had the foresight to
secure the translation services of a young man in our church who facilitated
the whole process. In the end, I think he was as dumbfounded as we were about
how inefficient the whole process truly was. The Department of Transportation
consists of several dilapidated buildings on Ring Road, one of the busiest thoroughfares
in Kathmandu. Cars and motorcycles are everywhere. Outside the buildings, one
can find sundry seemingly impromptu stands selling everything from trinkets to samosas
(a deep-fried turnover) plus offering the obligatory photocopying and
plasticizing.
Once in the building, we had to ask where to go first. We passed
the room for renewal of drivers’ licenses. I saw the eye chart on the wall and
wondered how Betsy—whose license soon expires—will be able to explain the
letters on each line. Each is written in Sanskrit and there are 46 letters in
the Nepali alphabet. “The first letter is the one with the straight line on top,
a straight line going down and a squiggly line next to it. The next line has
one of those funny looking letters that starts off with a sideways triangle.”
It will be a very long vision test indeed!
Back to the license plates: we paid 5 rupees to purchase the
application form—all of it in Nepali—and took it to what appeared to be the
main office. No one was there except for a man who, like us, was waiting to
renew his license. He’d been waiting an hour for someone to show up. We were
then sent upstairs to secure a stamp imprinted with the face of a moustachioed man
I didn’t recognize.
We returned to the main office and were informed we needed 3
passport photos. Fortunately, we had them on hand. We then needed photocopies of
the blue book, the bill of sale, the UNFPA letter indicating we’d purchased the
car and the letter of duty free status from USAID. Back out to the street
vendors with photocopiers hooked up to car batteries to get photocopies of all
the documents.
We were then informed that we couldn’t get the license
without the car. We’d taken a taxi to the Department of Transportation thinking
we wouldn’t be able to drive without license plates. I took a taxi home, hopped
in the car and navigated the small alleys as well as the traffic on Ring Road…not
an easy task considering the steering wheel is on the right and people drive to
the left.
Once back at the Department of Transportation, we were
informed that we needed to get an emissions inspection. Fortunately, garages
were across Ring Road. We were then told that we needed to see a gentleman who could
pull the original paperwork needed to get the plates. We knew this part of
securing the plates would be particularly trying. We watched as the man went to
a room filled with books and folders with papers spilling out of them. No
apparent organization. He then took the first book and one by one thumbed
through each page, hoping to find the original documents for the car. We knew
it could take some time to sift through all the books so we stepped outside to
enjoy the sunshine. Remarkably, an hour and a half later, the man produced the
originals.
We were then informed that we needed to get insurance. We
found the nearest insurance office—also across Ring Road—and signed up for
insurance. The agent never told us what was included in the policy. We weren’t
told about deductibles. In fact, we were only given a receipt. But for $100 a
year, we figured it was worth it, if for no other reason than to secure the
license plates.
At this point, we knew we were close. Back we ventured
across Ring Road, then to the main office. Now the application was complete—bill
of sale, letters from the embassy and UNFPA, pictures, stamps, insurance forms,
validation of clean emissions and certifications from several ministries that
indeed we were entitled to a license plate.
But that was not all! We then took the paperwork to one of
many mom and pop joints that manufacture license plates. This approach to
securing a license plate seems an open invitation to corruption. We handed over
the paperwork and were told to come back in 3 days when our plates would be
stamped and painted. At long last we can drive! Now it’s just a matter of
battling the narrow alleys, traffic, pedestrians, cows and monkeys…
