Red Tape

While I have absolutely no data on this, I feel fairly confident making the claim that China has the largest and most unwieldy bureaucracy in the world. Over the course of the past week, I have come face-to-face with this bureaucracy in an innocent attempt to extend my visa.

[Warning: The only thing more time-consuming than reading about this experience was actually living through it.]

When I first went to the visa office last week, armed with a thick packet of official paperwork that I had triple-checked for accuracy, I was informed that I was missing one form: proof of residence. I was assured that this could easily be obtained from the local police station.

At the local police station, I was informed that only one employee knew how to issue me proof of residence, and that she was in a meeting. I was told to come back "later".

When I returned later that afternoon, the employee in question was indeed back in the office, deeply absorbed in her work, which seemed to involve texting someone on her cell phone and giggling to herself. Without looking up from her phone, she informed me that I needed a signed and sealed letter from my department stating my address before she could issue proof of residence.

This was Friday afternoon. Bright and early Monday morning, I appeared at the police station with the requisite letter, only to find that the multi-tasking employee had taken the day off. Because I am not a patient person, I asked another employee if she could please figure out some way to get me my proof of residence, because it had already been several days and my visa was about to expire. The subsequent phone call she made was the one in which it was discovered that I was an unregistered alien no better than a common criminal.

Two days later I returned, yet again, to the police station for sentencing. Unsurprisingly, they decided that I was to be fined. I won't say the exact amount, but I will say that it represents half of my monthly salary. And apparently ignorance isn't an acceptable excuse for lawlessness in China.

Anyway, you might think I could just pay up and get out of there, but you'd be wrong. They had to take a sworn statement from me, stating the case, and then confirming that I understood the charges against me and didn't deny them. This was handwritten by the officer in charge. Then, they had to make copies of my passport and visa. Because they don't have a copy machine, they actually made me go out into the street to find a copy place and pay for the necessary copies. Then they made me fill out a form with my basic information. Again, because they don't have a copier, I had to fill out multiple copies. These copies were then all thrown away and I had to start again from scratch because they accidentally gave me a blue ballpoint pen instead of a black gel pen.

Once the paperwork was all filled out, I had to sign everything. This involved my actual handwritten signature, as well as my fingerprint. They gave me a little red inkpad and I had to stamp my finger over every signature and date on all of the forms. Then I had to do it all over again because I only signed my first and last names - and not my middle name - which apparently can be very confusing for non-English speakers.

Just when I thought everything was finally finished, they decided that they needed further proof that I was who I said I was. So my professor from the university was called down to the station to verify my identity. She was also forced to sit around while the officer in charge handwrote yet another statement of the charges against me, which my professor then had to sign. While we waited around, I taught her how to play hangman:

All good things must come to an end, however, including my time at the police station. I was eventually given my proof of residence form, and forced to say goodbye to my new friends. I was heartened, however, by the knowledge that I would now have the opportunity to make more friends back at the visa office. Sadly, however, things there went fairly smoothly. The only minor hitch occured a couple of days later, when I went to pick up the completed visa. No one appeared to be manning the visa counter, and when I asked the manager, he sent upstairs to a back room where I had to actually rouse the necessary employee out of bed. But he obediently shuffled downstairs - rumpled hair and all - and quickly and efficiently retrieved my passport and visa.

That's China for you.