Move In Day

Monday, our shipment arrived from Minneapolis. This has been a day to which we have both looked forward and dreaded. I think back to the days when we packed and most of the week was routed in pure chaos. The inventory list was not completed to the standard that I wanted and I was not able to keep my arms around the army of packers to ensure what needed to go to India went to India. At the end of the day, though, this is very typical for an international move. You try your best, but things fall through the cracks... or just crack!

Note the guy sleeping in the truck 

Like the air shipment, the trucks (note the plurality of the noun) arrived around 7:00am. In Delhi, trucks cannot travel within the city from 8:00am to 10:00am and from 4:00pm until 8:00pm, so they need to get here before the ban begins. I heard their intrusive diesel engines grinding to a halt just below our bedroom window, but by the time I looked out the drivers were already sound asleep with their arms hanging lifelessly out the windows. Around 9:00am, they began to assemble with the excitement of cattle at the slaughterhouse. They gathered for some tea, a light chat and then grabbed the first boxes off the nearest truck and climbed the 5 floors.

The unloading begins

In India, the caste system is alive and well. I believe, as well, there is an unwritten rule that if you are perceived to be above someone, you must inconvenience them in every way possible. I believe it is the law. This hierarchy, though, is more complicated these days. In modern India there is socio-economic movement, so your "caste" is no longer solely determined by your name, but by other factors such as your job title, education, lightness of your skin and, to be honest, your general tolerance towards taking shit from other people.

Our air shipment supervisor had a small crew and was as decisive as a clown flight, so the watchman, Gupta Ji, made his crew carry all the boxes up the 5 flights of stairs and forego the elevator. This was simply cruel, but the fact that it was 100+ degrees with 98% humidity was downright sadistic. The sea shipment supervisor, on the other hand, was educated, had a large crew and spoke English. Moreover, he definitely was not playing that game and it quickly became clear that a moving supervisor was higher than a watchman in the unofficial caste system of my building. Good to know!

As with everything else in India, shipments within the country are a bureaucratic mess. In most civilized countries, a container arrives at the port, is unloaded off the ship, inspected by customs (which involves opening it and looking half-heartedly for guns and drugs), put on a chassis and sent to the receiver. In India, this is not so. The container arrives at the port and then is unloaded completely into a warehouse. This is done, in my opinion, to allow the customs officials to shop the shipment in case there is anything the wife may need at home. Once the customs official is convinced there is nothing he needs, the shipment is loaded onto a long-haul truck and sent to another warehouse near the delivery point where the shipment is once again shopped for the family. The shipment is finally reloaded onto smaller, city approved trucks for final delivery. Each time the shipment is handled it adds risk of damage (and theft).

The rental furniture - Ugh!

With bellies full of tea, the moving began in earnest around 10:00am. They started with the smaller items as the crew supervisor expressed concern that the owner of the building would come out and object to the use of the elevator. Apparently owner trumps supervisor (I have so much to learn). The first few boxes were in pretty bad shape and I actually felt my stomach sink, but eventually the boxes began to look better. They were, though, pretty effective in moving the boxes from the street into the elevator and into the apartment. I have to say that I was pretty impressed with their professionalism and ability to re-assemble much of our furniture without incident.

American packing meetings Indian mishandling

As the boxes arrived and apartment began to fill, I was concerned. Firstly, the rental furniture had not been picked up, so we were running out of room, but more importantly, we were still on the first truck and we were running out of room. How could this be? We gave away or threw out more crap than a small island nation produces in a year. But the boxes kept coming and the mind began to wonder back to the decision of trying to get as much on the container as we could to save on storage costs. Maybe not my best long-term plan.

The room begins to fill

And then...... like any good story...... drama! The furniture guys arrived to remove the rental furniture. This crew consisted of a half-witted supervisor and a couple guys he picked up off the street (no really, this is a common practice). Under the direction of this dullard, the team picked up the couch and disappeared down the stairs. In less than a minute, the watchman, Gupta Ji, was in my doorway pointing down the stairwell. He diligently pointed out, without words, the huge scrape that went down the railing. He seemed quite happy with himself as if this was his revenge for the elevator diss by the other crew earlier. I approached the dunderhead furniture rental guy and pointed out the issue. He quickly denied it. Hum?

Note the dudes with the rags on their head -
this would be the furniture crew  recruited from the streets of Delhi

Rather than getting in the middle of this argument, I employed the aforementioned knowledge of the unofficial caste system. If watchman bosses furniture guy and shipment supervisor bosses watchman, then I will get shipment supervisor to fight this battle for me. I simply accused the shipment supervisor's crew of damaging the railing, told him that furniture guy said it was so, and let him lose. There was some screaming, but it was over in a matter of seconds. Furniture guy came to me and told me he had called the carpenter for repairs. I am learning. (Oh, by the way, if you were wondering, short, fat, balding white foreigner trumps all.)

With the rental furniture removed, the apartment looked like it could swallow a bit more. We were happy to hear that the first truck had been unloaded, but were a little uneasy that we were possibly only half way through. Luckily, the second truck was not completely full and when all was unloaded, the apartment looked as if we may have a place for everything. Well, everything that was still in one piece.

The porch furniture is unpacked on the roof terrace

As I described, there was a lot of handling of my shipment and the packing looked worse for wear. Many of the legs and corners had poked through and were exposed. Generally speaking, there were few pieces of furniture that did not have the packaging damaged in some way. There were a few broken dishes and a few scrapes on some of the furniture, but the real damage was on the couches. The feet were pretty torn up and the suede was flattened on the corners. It is small and you cannot really see it unless you look, but like the creepy dude staring at you in the airport lounge (another time, another story), I know it is there!

Scraped up tables

More scrapes and torn packaging ..... and a foot

The crew finished unloading and unpacking around mid-afternoon and Olga, Veena and I set about arranging furniture, washing dishes and putting stuff away. I have moved a lot in my time and each time you get your shipment, it feels like Christmas. Not that you unwrap a lot of stuff, but the real gift is you get to sleep in your own bed again!

Rental Bed 

Our Bed!

Good Night!