Pointless Acts of Self-Sabotage

I departed for Taiwan on the Saturday of September 7^th. I arrived on the 8^th in an unremarkable manner, exchanged some money at the airport to see how exchange rates would compare to those in the city, and took a taxi to my hotel. I was tired and very quickly fell asleep.

The next day I was to check in with my program at National Taiwan University and move into my student apartment. I signed in at the International Chinese Language Program office without any problems and then returned to the hotel to retrieve my things. By ten o’clock, I had moved into my new dorm.

The view from my room

Looking around, I realised I would have to buy a few things: Besides bedding – of which I had been forewarned – also soap and toilet paper. I also needed to stop by the immigration office to ask for a visa extension as I was instructed to back home. That was where the trouble began. While checking over my supporting documents, I realised that I did not have a bank statement or two pictures as was written in the requirements. It took me a moment to figure out why: My dad prepared my documents for me while I was in China and gave them to me when I got back; however, being a very silly person, I put some of those documents in the wrong pile and ended up sticking them in my diary instead.

It is said that study abroad helps one discover one’s strengths and weaknesses and grow as a person. I now realise what my greatest weakness is: a boundless capacity for self-sabotage.

Thankfully, I remembered that there was a printer at the ICLP’s office, so I made a trek back to NTU. The staff were very kind and helped me print what I needed, after which I set off on my errands.

The first thing to do was to buy a metro card, which was not difficult, and I was soon hurtling towards the closest IKEA on the Songshan-Xindian line. The bedding I found was very nice and comfy, and I bought a bin and some scissors (to cut out my pictures) as well.

By that time, though, I was already quite tired and it was getting close to five o’clock, which I assume is when most government buildings close. I decided that I would leave the immigration office visit for another day, and lugged my IKEA bags to the Wellcome store, where I bought some soap and toilet paper.  

I planned my immigration office visit for the next day. Right after taking my placement exams, I hopped on the metro again and rode over. Waiting for about an hour for my number to be called, I had some time to look over the documents I brought with me. I was a little unsettled by the fact that all of the other foreigners seemed to have a different application form, so I asked a lady handing out forms whether the one I had was correct and, true enough, it was not. I was handed another form, which I filled out, and kept waiting.

My only source of stress at that point were the two pictures I printed out for myself, which turned out to be rather big and most certainly did not have a glossy finish. As I was about to find out, however, that would be the least of my troubles.

As I was called up, the immigration worker asked me if I had proof of my scholarship. I found that question rather odd and unexpected, as no such thing was mentioned on the website. I said that I did not, but I could try to find it on my computer. After about five minutes of stressed email sifting, I finally unearthed my approval email from the Light Fellowship. The immigration officer took one look at it and said “no, I mean your government scholarship.”

“Oh,” I answered, “I don’t have a government scholarship.”

Hearing that, the lady told me to wait while she called her supervisor. It was another fifteen minutes before the supervisor came and – in very high spirits for some reason – told me that I was given the wrong visa, since one can only apply for the residential visa with a Taiwanese governmental scholarship. With a hearty laugh, she sent me to the Bureau of Consular Affairs a couple blocks away.

It was only at the Bureau of Consular Affairs that I finally understood the whole problem. The worker there very patiently explained to me the intricacies of the system – a student can only apply for the resident visa if they are on a government scholarship or if they have been in the country for four months on a visitor visa. The conversation was obviously much longer than that, but long story short, I ended up not getting a visa extension to my residential visa and handed in my passport to have it approved for a completely different visa altogether.

The only other mishap of the day was trying to get more money exchanged and being told that the bank closes at 15:30. On a Tuesday.