And I have a Residential Permit to prove it!
The apartment hunt was pretty stressful and complicated, but it ended with a nice 2-bedroom apartment and a possible roommate who is coming to Delhi in October (well, hopefully. She’s having employment visa issues… sound familiar?).
I started looking on Yuni-Net and DelhiNet, two mostly expat forums, but I got few good responses. I managed to visit two studios in Defence Colony, but they were pretty small and felt like dorm rooms (basically only a bed and desk). I tried Craigslist and emailed some people who had posted they were looking for roommates, but they never responded. Then I checked out some Classifieds websites, 99acres.com, magicbricks.com, and indiaproperty.com, as well as the Classified sections of the Hindustan Times and Times of India. I visited some of these apartments, but they were awful. Indian squat toilets, no showerhead, a glass wall between the apartment and a family’s home so that the family could see and hear everything, no windows, etc. Really, it wasn’t that I was being overly picky; these are legitimate complaints.
Ultimately, I had to do what everyone, both expat and Indian, warned me against: I called a broker. I started with TERI’s broker, but he was terrible. He wasn’t even listening to me. He showed me places that were double my budget, in locations I didn’t want, etc. So I searched on IndiaMike.com to find a recommended broker, and here I am in my new apartment! The broker was pretty annoying and I had to pay a broker fee, but at least I found a place to live (after seeing over 20 apartments). Phew!
My apartment is on the third floor (Indian counting; fourth floor American counting). Basically, you keep walking up stairs until there are no more stairs. I live in Jangpura, which is north of Lajpat Nagar (great shopping) and east of Defence Colony (great restaurants). It is a nice quiet neighborhood with a bunch of parks. I thought I was within walking distance of a movie theater (so my amazing 250-page Delhi map book tells me), but when I walked over there I found it is closed for renovations. But I’m pretty sure there is a theater in Lajpat, so I will easily get my fill of Bollywood.
If you want to send me mail, my address is:
G-9, Third Floor
Jangpura Extension
New Delhi 110014
India
Come visit me!!
I live on the same street as “Dr. P.P. Singh (Urologist).” I’m not even kidding, there is actually a sign that says that. One day soon I will walk around my neighborhood with a camera and take a picture of that sign.
After I got my apartment and signed a lease, I had all my documents in order to go to the FRRO (Foreigners Regional Registration Office). The FRRO is supposed to be a really awful experience and a lot of foreigners have to go back multiple times, but it went pretty smoothly for me. Basically you wait in line for hours, a guy checks out your documents and gives you a number, and when your number is called you go up to a counter with a guy who registers you.
Before I continue the story, it is important to share with you that I had not had a drink of water since lunchtime the day before. I had moved into my apartment the night before and did not yet have any cups, even though I did have a water filter. And I had sweat profusely while lugging my bags up four flights of stairs. I would also like to note that taking autorickshaws really dries out my throat and gives me cottonmouth (all that polluted, dusty air). So I was feeling pretty damn thirsty and dehydrated.
After standing on my feet for two and a half hours in a sweaty, not-air-conditioned hallway, the number-giver told me my lease was not notarized and therefore not a valid proof of address for registration. At first he refused to give me a number, but I yelled at him with my gross cottonmouth voice until he gave me a number, and I ran as fast as I could out of there to find a notary. I saw an autorickshaw and yelled “Mujhe notarization chahiye! Mujhe mere lease par stamp chahiye!” (I need notarization! I need a stamp on my lease!) at him. To my surprise, he knew exactly what I meant and where to go. Well, he was waiting outside the FRRO, so maybe this is a common problem he knows about.
When we arrived at the complex with the notary, I dashed out of the rickshaw and up a few flights of stairs to the notary. I didn’t have the original lease with me since I only needed to submit a copy, and at first the notary guy wouldn’t stamp it. After some convincing, he gave me the stamps. Then I ran to a copy place so the registration guy would never know the notarization was not on the original. (But I will get the original notarized soon.)
At this point I started getting light-headed and realized I was probably about to pass out, probably because I hadn’t had any water in 24 hours and in those 24 hours I had perspired a lot more than usual (moving luggage down and up several flights of stairs, all the running in Indian heat in Western work clothes, etc). I asked the copy boy, “pani kahan hai?” (Where is water?) because I couldn’t think straight enough to say “where can I buy water?” (which would be “main kahan pani kharid sakti hoon?”) Instead of telling me where to go, he said “you don’t look so good” and ran out to get me water. He came back with what I’m pretty sure was not clean water, but I felt so awful I just grabbed it and drank the whole thing.
Feeling reenergized from the sketchy water, I ran back to the auto and back to the FRRO. When I entered the room, my number was on the board. I went up to the counter and asked how long my number had been up there, and luckily it had just popped up. Just in the nick of time! And I got my resident’s permit without any more issues.
…yes, that is considered going smoothly.
Lesson learned: I now have cups and I bring a bottle of water (I keep all the bottles I buy and fill them up with filtered water) to work every day.
Wow, that was a long post. That’s what happens when you don’t update in a while. Oh, and I swear, a post about work really is coming soon.
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