Before coming to the Philippines, I asked my parents if I needed to do anything regarding my passport, such as apply for a visa. "No!" they said. "You're the son of Filipino citizens—it should be okay." So I went on my merry way to the Philippines.
Last week, a conversation with O'Hagan brought up how she needed to apply for a multiple-entry visa. "Haha," I laughed. "I don't have to do that." "You sure?" she said. "Check your passport." I did. And then I realized that I'm an idiot.
Apparently you can stay in the Philippines for 21 days on a US passport alone. If you stay any longer than that, you need a visa waiver. And if you're planning to leave the country to travel around Asia and then enter again, like O'Hagan is and I was, then you need a multiple-entry visa.
My conversation with O'Hagan took place on Wednesday. I was like, well, I have time to get it renewed. Of course, I did not check how long it takes to actually renew a visa. Before learning that information, here is how I spent my time:
Wednesday: A tour of GK sites with Tito Tony—all day.
Thursday: GK1MB Rally—all day.
Friday: I got lazy—all day.
Saturday – Sunday: Government closed—all weekend.
Monday (Today): My visa expires—tomorrow.
The regular process for obtaining a waiver takes a week. For a fee, the expedited process takes 3 business days. But apparently, if you "talk" to the right people, it takes 1 hour.
Boo deportation. Hooray graft!
Karl and I went to the Bureau of Immigration, which is in charge of illegals like me. I walked in, expecting to find an office or a desk where I could renew my visa. Instead, I met Mr. X.
I told a random person wearing a
barong that I'm an American citizen and I need to extend my visa because it expires tomorrow. That was probably a mistake; I might as well have worn a shirt saying, "I'm foreign and ignorant—extort me please!" This random person introduced me to another random person, who shall be called Mr. X.
Mr. X is a bald, elderly Filipino gentleman also wearing a barong. He asks me in Tagalog if I speak any; I tell him that I know very little (extort me please!). He then lowers his voice to a shady volume and starts speaking to me in a broken English that I can barely hear or understand. He leads me over to a shadowy corner and somehow, through his broken English and my terrible Tagalog, I understand what he's talking about. There's a visa waiver fee, an expedited process fee, and his "fee."
Before coming to the Philippines, I heard that this kind of thing is standard operating procedure for dealing with police officers and government officials. Still, I don't know what I'm doing. So I tell Mr. X I need to go to my car. Instead, I meet Karl in a nearby Starbucks where he is waiting. I ask him if this is a good idea, but he hasn't been in this situation before—he's a citizen. So I call up a couple of relatives who might have been through this situation because they travel a lot, but I can't get a hold of anyone. Finally, I'm like: screw it.
I go back in. Mr. X takes me deeper into the building, into a dimly lit corridor, and we pass a poster that encapsulates the entire experience for me. The poster says, "Corruption and graft are not victimless crimes. Report people to this number xxxxxxxxx." Immediately, I think to myself: that thing is useless. I hand Mr. X my passport. I shake his hand, slyly slipping him the "fee." And he counts the money right in front of me, change and all, as nearby armed guards and government officials stare at us. I'm not going to be deported; I'm going to be arrested.
But nothing happens. Mr. X makes sure the money is all there and he tells me to come back in an hour. One more thing occurs to me as I leave the building; this guy could take my money and my passport and I would be severely screwed. I would spend the rest of my life as an American living as an illegal immigrant in the Mexico of Asia—oh the irony.
Karl and I wait patiently at Starbucks. An hour passes by. I walk back into the building. Mr X. is wating for me. He hands me this:
And inside:
Done and done.
4 comments:
I lived in Indonesia last year and it was the same thing with public officials there.
Also, hi.
You are learning fast according to Lola.
Oh corruption and bribes, that doesn't happen in Nepal... We only have "unspecified fees" ;)
I don't wanna go to PI.
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