Wherever possible I like to avoid government offices. In Thailand the main culprits are the British embassy in Bangkok and the Thai immigration office in Jomtien. The former is bureaucratic, slow and expensive, the latter is bureaucratic, slow and slightly less expensive; except when you do something wrong.
Tomorrow I am off to Bangkok and thought I would take the opportunity of renewing my passport. The UK passports are now biometric, which is bureaucrat speak for expensive. A painful 10,000 fee, a requirement for photographs with such exacting specifications that they will no doubt also cost more than is normal, plus the usual multi-page form to complete; and the standard take-a-number and queue for hours for the privilege of being treated like dirt by an embassy official. Not something I am looking forward to.
But when I took out my passport out of the desk this morning, I realised I was also committed to a trip to Jomtien immigration. As a condition of being granted a yearly visa to stay in this wonderful country, I am required to present myself to the immigration office every 90 days and tell them (again and again) that I am still here and I still live in the same place. It’s a nonsense, but it keeps people employed, and it takes about ten minutes and zero baht to go through the process. Unless you forget to turn up on time.
Glancing at my passport I saw that I was meant to have gone to immigration in May to re-confirm my existence. Oops. That means a 2,000 baht fine and a slap on the wrist. So I put on a respectable shirt and a respectable smile and whizz down to the immigration office where I submit myself to the man at the reception counter and explain my late reporting dilemma. A two thousand baht fine he tells me in a stern-ish voice and immediately starts to fill in the 90 day reporting form for me (which you normally have to do yourself). He doesn’t understand the name of my condo so leaves it out, in fact he doesn’t write down much more than the postcode and the fact that we are somewhere in Thailand. During this process it dawns on me that this is not going to be processed through the usual route and indeed he asks for the 2,000 baht which disappears below the table, and he disappears to the desk of the man who does the 90 day reporting to acquire the necessary stamp, no doubt for a share of the spoils.
He is back a couple of minutes later with a big smile, a friendly slap on the shoulder and a look in his eyes which says “please do this again.”
Being an man of impeccable morals, I felt myself obliged to go straight to the head of immigration and explain that my fine had gone into the pocket of a poorly paid government servant who spends his days being abused by foreigners, rather than into the funds of a government being systematically looted by the corrupt elite; and that consequently I had been served in five minutes rather than waiting an hour. Nothing would happen to the officer involved and I would be treated like scum if I ever walked into Jomtien immigration again.
I thought to myself “what would Nelson Mandela do?”, but that came up with the wrong answer, so I thought to myself “what would a spineless goon who wants an easy life do?” and that gave me a much more reasonable answer; so I gave the officer a friendly wink and went for a coffee.
Comments 🔗
2008-07-01| Jock saysLucky you. When I lived in Jomtiem I had to exit the country every 90 days. This meant a 6 hour round trip to Poi Pet on the border of Columbia. This required hiring a car for a day, filling it with girls from the bar who wanted a day out, running the gauntlet of gangsters at Poi Pet who wanted to ‘simplify’ the visa process - usually dressed in police uniforms, at the same time avoiding being pick-pocketed by the throngs of little street urchins - each with more arms than an octupus. Still it was worth it to stay in Thailand for another 90 days.
2008-07-01| Billy saysQuite frankly I am surpised to learn that Jock ever survived 90 days there. He clearly has hidden reserves of stamina.