License plates

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…