Our Life in Delhi, Customs Clearance: A Tale of Two Vikrams, on John ki Jaan

Costums Clearance (A Tale of Two Vikrams) – August 10, 2007

Earlier in the week, when we met with Vikram, our shipping agent, to discuss customs clearance—the final step of having our belongings delivered in Delhi—we discovered that we might incur some import duties.

We brought our shipment in under a “transfer of residence,” which allows you to bring in almost all used household goods duty free. (There are exceptions for electronics and some dutiable goods such as alcohol that exceed allotted limits.) But to qualify for transfer of residence, you have to show that you have been living outside India for at least two years.

The only acceptable proof is your passport, which documents your place of residence. However, Gitanjali’s new US passport went back only one year and three months; we needed her canceled Indian passport to show that she had been living outside India for the remaining nine months of the two-year period.

The only problem was her Indian passport was somewhere in the shipment. Luckily, she remembered exactly where she had put it, and we checked the shipping inventory to pinpoint the identification number on the box that contained it. Even better, we would have a chance to retrieve the passport from the box before the customs inspector started his inspection.

If we couldn’t find her old passport, we would have to pay a tariff on any dutiable items. We did a quick survey of what we had shipped and realized we had minimal dutiable items; we figured at most, we might have to pay Rs. 6,000 to Rs. 10,000 ($150 to $250).

So Friday morning (August 10), we piled into the car with Vikram and proceeded to the customs container yard, which is located in an area called Tughlaqabad in southeastern Delhi. (The main attraction in this part of Delhi is the Tughlaqabad Fort, which is an 11th or 12th century city-fort whose ruins are spread over 6 or 7 sq. mile area.)

As we approached the entrance to the container yard, we passed by the largest garbage dump in Delhi. It covers about 1 sq. mile of ground and features mountainous mounds of trash that look like they might topple over onto the highway. Despite the sunny, 98-degree day, the garbage didn’t smell at all. (Or maybe the closed windows kept out the smell.)

For those who may not know, a container is a rectangular metal box—8 feet high, 8 feet wide, and 20, 40, or 45 feet long—that is used to ship goods across the ocean. These are often stacked four to eight containers on top of each other on a ship and in the yard to save space. Our shipment filled a little more than half of a 20-ft. container.

To reach the actual container yard, we had to drive down a dusty half-paved road crowded with trucks pulling containers. After parking, we entered a small, moderately well-kept government office, where we filled out some forms and signed several others.

Then we went outside, crossed the parking lot, and stopped at the gated entrance to the container yard. We stood around while the guard manning the gate filled out many more forms. (His “booth” was a 20-ft. container that had been converted into an “office” by cutting a doorway and two windows into its one side.)

After 10 minutes, during which we waited in the direct sunlight surrounded by dust and trucks, we had to sign yet another form—our official visitors pass that gave us access to the container yard. We finally entered the yard and walked about half a mile to the warehouse where the inspections took place.

The roadways in the container yard are paved with bricks, but an inch of dirt and dust covers the bricks. Aside from the stacks of containers scattered about the yard, numerous trucks slowly plow through the dust in an apparent effort to move the containers about.