Update: I've been living in Delhi now for over two months. It's been a [mostly] positive experience (see below for explanation). Our family has a flat here that I voluntarily moved into to set up and help work out the kinks (the faulty construction does not cease to amaze me).
But now things are looking up... among the best things in the house are the curtains we had installed so the watchguards from next door cannot creepily look inside, house plants that bring a [very] little piece of greenery into our home, the ever-important mixey to make lassis (it's mango season!) and of course, a gas connection.
How To: Get a Cooking Gas Connection in Delhi
Don't worry, I'm not actually going to take you through the painful 31-step process that took me more than 4 weeks, 7 visits to the office, over a dozen phonecalls, a handful of tears, 2 visits to obtain 'black market gas', 2 affadavits, a couple of forged signatures, 1 lost friend, 1 bruised foot, a bruised ego and well, a bribe.
Instead, I'll just provide highlights (or, as those who saw me in Delhi during that time would call very very lowlights) of the disaster that is part of getting a new flat up and running in India.
3. Ater making countless phonecalls, I finally realized my point was clearly not getting through. Frustrated, I called the only person I knew that would support me / have an impact on the gas company. I called Bauji, my 92 year old Grandpa. I'm not exactly sure what he said but all I know is that within 1 hour someone had come over to do the required inspection. I should have taken him with me on visit #1.
Lesson learned: You can't get anything done alone. In the craziness of a place like India, a land without proper shystems, the organized chaos can only be navigated if you reach out to your trusted network, Grandpas included.
2. After making countless visits, I finally realized this process was going to take much longer than early anticipated. Frustrated, I decided the only way to make do without a legal gas connection was to, well, get an illegal one. Somehow I found my way in the dirty smelly market that is Govindpuri and reached Gully #7, where a friendly Sadarji was selling gas on the black market. I picked myself up a canister, came home and had a dinner party (thanks for the wonderful meal, Bvu).
Lesson learned: You have to think out-of-the-box and be okay with stop-gap solutions. Many times, these solutions (or as it is termed here, 'jugaad') are way better, if not the best, ways to work around the shystem.
1. After making countless threats to cancel my order, I finally realized that no one was bothered by my screaming fits. In fact, nothing would motivate them to help me out (even after I stormed out of the office one day, kicked the metal gate and suffered from a bruised foot). Only when I one day went into the office, told them I would bring in mitai (sweets) if I received my gas connection by the week, did I see some movement. Within 48 hours, I was finally legal.
Lesson learned: You have to pay a bribe. Even if it's in the form of mitai, some 'chai pani' (literally means 'tea, water' but means bribe/tip) is always required and will turn any negative situation into a positive one.
Every day is a learning experience – even after almost 4 years I'm still learning how to live in India. Even though it was indeed a struggle, at least now every time I hear the click click of the gas burner and cook a meal in the kitchen, I really appreciate it. While I'm looking forward to many more delicious meals, I dread the day I need to get the canister refilled...
But now things are looking up... among the best things in the house are the curtains we had installed so the watchguards from next door cannot creepily look inside, house plants that bring a [very] little piece of greenery into our home, the ever-important mixey to make lassis (it's mango season!) and of course, a gas connection.
How To: Get a Cooking Gas Connection in Delhi
Don't worry, I'm not actually going to take you through the painful 31-step process that took me more than 4 weeks, 7 visits to the office, over a dozen phonecalls, a handful of tears, 2 visits to obtain 'black market gas', 2 affadavits, a couple of forged signatures, 1 lost friend, 1 bruised foot, a bruised ego and well, a bribe.
Instead, I'll just provide highlights (or, as those who saw me in Delhi during that time would call very very lowlights) of the disaster that is part of getting a new flat up and running in India.
3. Ater making countless phonecalls, I finally realized my point was clearly not getting through. Frustrated, I called the only person I knew that would support me / have an impact on the gas company. I called Bauji, my 92 year old Grandpa. I'm not exactly sure what he said but all I know is that within 1 hour someone had come over to do the required inspection. I should have taken him with me on visit #1.
Lesson learned: You can't get anything done alone. In the craziness of a place like India, a land without proper shystems, the organized chaos can only be navigated if you reach out to your trusted network, Grandpas included.
2. After making countless visits, I finally realized this process was going to take much longer than early anticipated. Frustrated, I decided the only way to make do without a legal gas connection was to, well, get an illegal one. Somehow I found my way in the dirty smelly market that is Govindpuri and reached Gully #7, where a friendly Sadarji was selling gas on the black market. I picked myself up a canister, came home and had a dinner party (thanks for the wonderful meal, Bvu).
Lesson learned: You have to think out-of-the-box and be okay with stop-gap solutions. Many times, these solutions (or as it is termed here, 'jugaad') are way better, if not the best, ways to work around the shystem.
1. After making countless threats to cancel my order, I finally realized that no one was bothered by my screaming fits. In fact, nothing would motivate them to help me out (even after I stormed out of the office one day, kicked the metal gate and suffered from a bruised foot). Only when I one day went into the office, told them I would bring in mitai (sweets) if I received my gas connection by the week, did I see some movement. Within 48 hours, I was finally legal.
Lesson learned: You have to pay a bribe. Even if it's in the form of mitai, some 'chai pani' (literally means 'tea, water' but means bribe/tip) is always required and will turn any negative situation into a positive one.
Every day is a learning experience – even after almost 4 years I'm still learning how to live in India. Even though it was indeed a struggle, at least now every time I hear the click click of the gas burner and cook a meal in the kitchen, I really appreciate it. While I'm looking forward to many more delicious meals, I dread the day I need to get the canister refilled...
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