t.i.g., take 2, part 2

Last week, I wrote a story about the mostly unsuccesful trip we took to get our visas renewed. And in that retelling (much as it really happened), I left you with a cliff-hanger. Okay, maybe calling it a cliff-hanger is elevating my writing to a level that is just a bit too high, but I purposefully did not tell you the end of the story. So let me begin where we left off.

On Monday morning, Don arose at 5:30am to make his way back into the city, this time with a friend/translator named Christian. The goal was to get to the photo place when it opened, get those photos in hand, then head over to the immigration office to finally get everything turned in.

Picking up the photos went off without a hitch.

Getting the visas renewed? Not.so.much.

As soon as they got to the office, the guys took a number and sat down. Once their number was called, they approached the window and presented the paperwork. Numerous round-about and confusing conversations later, it turns out that the immigration office didn't want to renew our visas because they were convinced that the current stamps we had were not legitimate! Though the stamps looked exactly like all the other stamps we have, we somehow were not in their computer system as having come through immigration control at the airport, so they thought we had illegally acquired our visas.

Don tried to reason with them saying that obviously if he was standing before them in person, and because he is obviously a person from the United States, he most certainly must have come on an airplane, gone through the check at the airport, and received the stamp in the same way that we always have in the past.

The immigration officers wanted nothing to do with this version of the story. They would not, could not place an extension on a visa that they did not believe was valid in the first place. Even having Christian there to facilitate the conversation back and forth did not help the officers come to a realization of what had to be an error on the part of something in the system. How were we to prove that we came the way we said we did and received the stamps the way we said we did? There was nothing that could be done.

Finally, Don proposed his take on things. If they were saying our stamps were illegal and their system had no record of us entering the country, then there was no reason to renew the visas in the first place, right? I mean, if we were now in the country, but they said they don't "know" we're in the country (even though Don was standing right in front of them), and they were not going to give us a new stamp to extend our stay because they didn't have a record of us coming in in the first place, then why pull out our hair trying to convince them that we were attempting to do the right thing by asking and paying for the extension? The officers essentially agreed with him, acknowledging that if we didn't have a "real" stamp, there wasn't any reason to ask for an extension.

Talk about confusion. We were in a position in which we couldn't convince them of our above-board, completely routine method of arriving on a plane and going through their airport procedures. And maybe there wouldn't be any need in the next few months for us to show our passports and reveal that we were now past our limited period of acceptable time of being here. But then we would still have potential problems when trying to exit the country when the clerks at the airport counter would open our passports, see that they are long past-due, but find that we aren't in the computer system to pay a fine.

So, the men stood around talking and peering at the paperwork for a few more minutes. Finally, Christian noticed on one of the kids' papers that the children did have the records of their entrance at the airport! The officers kind of shrugged their shoulders and admitted that, indeed, the children's paperwork, and therefore visas seemed to be valid. And it only made sense that if all three kids came through the airport process, then the parents must have been with them.

Thank goodness for just a smidgen of common sense on that one.

And so, after hours of conversation and being shuffled from one big-whig's office to another, Don was able to submit our paperwork and officially apply for our visa extensions.

So glad to know we are not illegal immigrants in this country.

And so glad to be done with this hassle...at least for another few months.


(Heather)