The Struggle against Bureaucracy Continues (Part 4)

Blithe and naïve was I when I thought I could simply turn up at the Bureau of Consular Affairs with my medical certificate and be waved through without a problem. Instead, I was told that this time, the document I was missing was a receipt confirming that I could use my debit card in Taiwan. I asked the official why I was not told this last time I visited but she simply repeated I needed to bring a receipt, as though she had not heard anything at all. Of course, it did not occur to me to bring my card, seeing as no such information is written on the consular web pages, but this too was met with little sympathy. I even tried to argue to the official that a simple web search would confirm that Bank of America issues Visa-branded debit cards, which can be used literally almost everywhere in the world.

No luck. The most I could extract from the official was a promise that when I returned the next day, I would not be asked to bring yet another document.

So anyway, upon my third visit to the Bureau of Consular Affairs, my passport was finally taken in, and I picked it up again – along with a brand-new visa – on my fourth visit, after a two week wait.

Of course, receiving a Residential Visa was only half the struggle. A few days later, I had to go to yet another government building, called the National Immigration Agency, to apply for an Alien Resident Certificate, as per the instructions printed on the Residential Visa itself. I double and even triple checked to make sure I had prepared all the documents necessary, but to say the truth, I would have to have been an idiot to think that I would succeed in my application upon my first visit, especially after being rebuffed twice at the Bureau of Consular Affairs.

My pessimism was not misplaced and the malevolent deity in charge of Taiwan’s immigration pulled out yet another unexpected card from his sleeve. This time, it was a confirmation of my lease that I was missing – in other words, the all-too-caring authorities were worried that I would not have a place to stay in Taiwan and wanted to make sure that I had indeed found one. As usual, my inquiries as to why this information is not written on the website were waved off nonchalantly, as though everyone enjoys to undertake a leisurely stroll to the National Immigration Agency every now and then, and preferably several times a week.

I made sure, of course, to ask the official whether he was absolutely sure that was the only document I was missing. He appeared unwilling to categorically confirm, but seemed quite optimistic. After all, seeing me twice, thrice, or even four times must have all been the same to him. I am convinced by now that bureaucrats think everyone is somehow employed by the government, on account of which it is not unreasonable to expect people to pay visits to their offices as though that constituted a full-time job.

Fortunately, when I returned the next day, all I had to do was make several copies of my passport, and my application was confirmed as submitted.

In other news, I have finished listening to the audiobooks Im Westen nichts Neues and El amor en los tiempos de cólera. I think it only fitting, given the fun I have had dealing with Taiwanese authorities, to give Der Prozess a listen.