Doug says I look beatific in my new passport photo
I’m still Canadian.
I say this with a certain degree of relief because, well, until yesterday my passport had been in the hands of the Canadian Consulate in Shanghai and I was getting a very strong impression that they were on the verge of revoking my citizenship because… because… well, do they even need a reason?
My background is dubious enough as it is, without factoring in my shifty gaze and chameleon-like need to reinvent myself every year or so (hey, remember my buzz-cut platinum blond faux-lesbian days in London?). All those stamps with Arabic writing on them? All those Chinese visas? That Burmese stamp? All those wildly disparate home addresses and jobs, all in just the past 5 years? Dodgy.
I’ve been living and working and traveling abroad since, um, 1994. That’s 18 years, come September. I think I got my first passport in 1993 though, when I was going through my asexual-groupie phase, following bands down to Seattle. Did I ever tell you how Peter Garrett of Midnight Oil once asked me to go clubbing with him but I couldn’t because I was only 18 (3 years under-age in the US)? Yeah.
I should be in the middle of my 4th 5-year passport by now. I’ve just received my 6th. Canadian passports are valid 5 years, but I’ve never been able to use the full five years as most countries insist on it being valid for at least 6 more months in order to let you in. If you need a work permit, you need at least a full year.
Also, those lovely 5 year passports have an adorably small number of pages (my last one had 24 pages, but the first 5 pages weren’t even usable as they had other things going on, like my photo and personal data or a bunch of small type telling me what to do if it’s stolen), with no page extensions allowed. Technically, I had 19 stampable pages.
Do you have any idea how many stamps and full-page visas a girl will go through when doing the following, between October 2008 and April 2012?
Canada–>USA–>Canada–>Mexico–>Belize–>Guatemala–>El Salvador–>Honduras–>Nicaragua–>Costa Rica–>USA–>Canada–>China (initial full-page tourist visa, converted to full-page work visa a month later, then another full-page tourist visa to bridge gap while 2nd full-page work visa was being arranged)–> Indonesia (full page)–>China–>HongKong/Macau–>China–>Canada–>China (with new work visa)–>Burma (full page)–>China–>Cambodia (full page)–>China (with new work visa)–>Canada–>Sri Lanka–>China–>Thailand–>China.
By August of last year, I was down to only 2 non-sequential empty pages, with a few scattered partial pages. Coming back from Sri Lanka, I was chewed out by the check-in woman in Bangkok for not having enough blank pages. According to her, what I was doing was illegal and I could be prevented from flying, even though re-entering China didn’t require a full page and I already had a page set aside for Chinese entry/exit stamps. China is wonderfully methodical, placing all stamps in neat lines next to each other. Makes it easier to keep track of the errant laowai.
To make sure that my last two precious pages weren’t casually annihilated by a wayward entry stamp, I had to take desperate measures. Post-It Notes are, thankfully, not in the ‘defacing your passport’ category.
Apologies for PhotoBooth mirroring. Can’t be arsed to go get proper camera.
Since I was down to just one free page (Thailand claimed one of my 2 Post-It Note pages), I knew I had to renew before my current work visa expired. Sure, I had a spare year and a half left on it and it was annoying to be forking over $150 every few years unnecessarily, but a Canadian must do what a Canadian must do.
This would be, what, Passport #4? (or #5?) in the past 18 years?
Let me tell you all about renewing your passport in Shanghai.
I went to the consulate over the Qing Ming Festival long weekend, as that was the only time my co-Canadian, Jeannie, was able to come over from the wilds of Wuxi to get hers renewed.
It also meant that every photo studio in the city was closed, their owners off sweeping their ancestors’ graves somewhere. If you were an ordinary mortal, this would be no big whoop as a passport photo is pretty standard. That’s what metro station photo booths are for.
Unless you are Canadian, of course.
What you need if you are Canadian:
A highly irregular photo size, known to only a half dozen photographers in all of Shanghai (the consulate actually has a list), with photographer’s official stamp, signature, shop address and date hand written on the back of each photo.
Said photographer needs to check your ID to verify that you are not in fact an impostor. The form was quite adamant about protocol, and my 5 previous passport applications were quite strict about enforcing it.
However, as noted, all shops were closed for the week due to the need to sweep tombs.
The woman behind the plexiglass at the consulate had no suggestions for us, just a bored shrug, but a guy in the waiting room ran after us as we left in frustration, saying that for whatever reason, in Shanghai, metro station photo-booth photos were acceptable.
Off we went to the Jing’an Temple station up the road, where we monopolized the photobooth for a good half hour, trying to find an option in accordance with the Canadian required dimensions. In case you were wondering, it’s a sub-sub option in the visa application section.
My first round of photos clearly show my love for bureaucracy and ease of transaction. Also, my need for anti-static-electricity hair gel. I look like one of those big metal stands science teachers use to teach kids about electricity. Strands of superfine hair stood up everywhere.
Put your hand here, Billy.
The sorrow of a thousand years of pent up passport pain
Totally not legit passport photos in hand, we returned to the passport office to discover that half of my references were invalid. Apparently Doug is considered by Canada as my common-law spouse (hey Doug, thought you oughta know!) and so couldn’t be used because he’s family. I had to scramble to remember the address of someone else who wasn’t family that I could use. I decided to use Cissy, my lone colleague out at Tongji for my last two years of bleak, lonely teaching. Then I realized that I had no idea what her real name was and had to call her up to say, hey, yeah, I know we worked together for two years and we’ve hung out since but, um, hey, what’s your real name?
It felt like a dirty one night stand.
As well, on the official application form, it said that you need a guarantor (doctor, dentist, judge, bank manager, etc) who has known you at least 2 years and can personally vouch for your identity. I’ve been to charles dental clinic here (twice, different guys each time, the first of whom is long gone), seen one anonymous doctor (for my last rabies shot), had 3 different bank accounts (but have never once met any of my managers), and have yet to meet anyone involved in the judiciary process.
The woman at the consulate slid the Form in Lieu of a Guarantor through the slot under the plexiglass window.
What you need when attempting to prove your identity to the Canadian Consulate when you don’t know any lawyers or doctors in Shanghai:
- A detailed list of every job (with address and contact number) you’ve held in the past 5 years (mine had a lot of question marks and gaps)
- A detailed list of every address you’ve lived at in the past 5 years (I had to ask for a second sheet of paper)
- A list of 5 more non-related people who have known you at least 2 years, plus their full address, phone number, email address (you have no idea how hard it is to think of that many on the spot) and their specific relationship to you and exactly how long you’ve known them.
As I slowly filled it out in the tiny, windowless room, brain aching from trying to remember my own life, the woman behind the plexiglass poked her finger through the little slot under the window and told me, like a teacher scolding a student, that I must write on my In Lieu of a Guarantor form the following message:
I, Mary Anne Oxendale, have been officially warned that I must never, ever, ever, ever again attempt to apply for a passport in Shanghai without a guarantor, even if they don’t actually know me as a person and are unable to legitimately vouch for my identity in a credible way. If people can check these additional hints, they can get the best dental services.
I was quite certain that a spanking was forthcoming.
Normally a new passport would take three weeks to be issued but my lack of guarantor and dubious personal history meant I’d be waiting a month, at least (‘we’ll let you know if we find any inconsistencies in your stories which would lead to delays‘, she’d said to me, as if resigned to such a fate).
During that month, phone calls were made. My poor, saintly referees (who shall remain anonymous) were grilled over the phone about the following:
- Where do her parents live?
- What’s her street address?
- What colour are her eyes?
- What’s her hair colour?
- What job does she do exactly, and who is her employer?
And so on.
And if you’ve only known me here in Shanghai, as a faux-redhead whose job situation is convoluted and bizarre at best, whose building opens out onto a totally different street from the official street address, then some of these questions might be difficult.
Two referees called me to double check that they had answered things correctly. They had, kinda. And kinda not.
Because my hair isn’t red and I don’t live on Jiashan Lu (even though our driveway opens onto it), my eyes aren’t blue but they can look like it some days, and I don’t really work for those Exam People because my visa is with my other job, and my parents live in Victoria, on Vancouver Island, and not in Vancouver itself, because, well, if you’ve never ever been to Canada, how are you supposed to know these things?
I spent most of April waiting for that call from Canada stating that they’d decided to revoke my citizenship after all.
On Thursday, when Jeannie came over from Wuxi to join me for the official Collection of the Passports, I was actually nervous. About getting a passport. For my own country of birth. A renewal one, at that.
I got it. It was fine. The plexiglass woman even smiled slightly when she slid it over.
So, yeah.
But let me tell you about one of the two other times when I got my passports abroad!
My first time was in South Africa in 1999 or 2000, but it was uneventful aside from the fact that I got a random Cape Town cop (with a huge gun) to be my guarantor and that I was inexplicably issued with just a 1 year passport (to be extended to 5 when I got back to Canada). That one-year passport caused me no end of grief as it stated quite boldly next to my name: THIS IS A ONE YEAR PASSPORT! VALID UNTIL [one year later]! Only on page 3 was there a tiny little stamp saying, hey, yo, we just added 4 more years!
But anyway, the other one…
Best One Ever in a Weird Kind of Way: Turkey!
This one was an odd one. It came at the beginning of my second year in Turkey, around mid-2003, when I was living in the wilds of Anatolia. My passport only had about 8 months left on it when I got my new ikamet (the work permit booklet you get there), but I was only granted a 6 month work visa because my passport didn’t have the full year left. It was no big deal though, as my school was well connected and I just had to do a last minute passport renewal after 4 months and everything would be fine. And it was.
A month before I took a day off from work to make the long journey to Ankara to the embassy, I emailed them to ask what I’d need. A dude called Smiley (‘Don’t call me Ismail’) replied.
A month later, I showed up at the embassy’s front door at 9am after an overnight bus ride from Kayseri. At the desk was Smiley (Ismail on the name tag).
I handed over my filled-in forms, including my Guarantor form which had been filled in by my family doctor back home. He had known me far longer than just the 2 year minimum required.
“I’m sorry,” said Smiley, smiling, “but Canada is not within the legal jurisdiction of the Canadian Embassy in Turkey. You need a Guarantor here in Turkey.”
“But I’ve only lived here a year,” I said.
“Well then, I shall be your guarantor. For 20 million lira.” That was about $12 at the time. Not a bad rate for bribery. I gave him the money and he told me to go halfway down the block to that lovely tea shop over there for some nice cup of tea and some fresh, hot poğaça. He’d call me when he was done.
Now, normally passports take at least 2 weeks to process, under the best of circumstances. Abroad it tends to be more like a month. Even emergency passports take a day or two or three.
I was barely halfway through my tea and bun when Smiley called twenty minutes later. My passport was ready. I could pick it up as soon as I’d eaten my fill of breakfast. I was to take my time. No hurry.
Apparently they’d started all the paperwork when I sent out my initial inquiry. I guess there’s not all that much to do at the Canadian embassy in Ankara. Lots of tea drinking, poğaça eating, perhaps. Gotta keep busy by filling out applications before the applicant has even gotten around to it.
I was back on the noon bus to Kayseri, passport and take-away beyaz peynirli poğaça in hand.
The passport itself was non-machine-readable, as I was probably one of 3 people to ever get her passport renewed in Ankara so they never bothered to upgrade their passport-making-gizmo. This made things incredibly complicated at border crossings for the next five years as every immigration agent tried futilely to get the photo page to scan, when it stated quite plainly amongst the numbers along the bottom: This passport is not machine readable; Ce passeport n’est pas lisible à la machine (or something like that)…
Try telling that to the angry Bulgarian customs agent on the Turkish border.
26 Responses
That is an insane story. Seriously that seems less involved than getting a security clearance in the US. It seems like the system is really explicitly made so that people can#t move or leave their home country. If you do you are punished by the beaurocrats. OR this is perfectly normal in the rest of the world and North Americans are spoiled for the lack?
I got my US passport renewed with 0 hassle. I mail it to Frankfurt and they send it to Washington and send it all back in 4-6 weeks. No muss no fuss.
Andrew recently posted..Culture Flows Both Ways
Doug (who is American) said he just gave the US embassy his passport and a new photo and they sent it all off to be processed and boom, new passport without the emotional subterfuge. Apparently Canada hates me.
Ha! … And I thought Canada had rather few people because it’s, um, spacy… Now I learn that’s merely because so many otherwise maybe Canadian people just grew up, aged and silently passed away in the attempt to identify themselves as Canadians to the authorities… Sounds pretty weird, altogether, also because Canadians are usually meant to be so overly friendly all day long…. (no, I don’t really beleive in that particular stereotype, for some reasons 🙂
Come to think about it: if such an self-identification is so terrible important and complicated while there’s obviously no access to more modern ICT tools than phones and written on paper for diplomatic Canadian authorities, that could be one of the very few good reasons to integrate people’s biometric data, a brain reader etc. in passports. However, after reading youre nice Odyssey, I surely should be grateful to have a 10 year passport that usually last for at least 5 or 6 years (depending on the number of bloody Asian full page visas). They even spent some billions recently to make sure your today’s versions of your passport includes biometric data in the photo and the machine code – for ‘security reasons’ (heard a good fake takes two or tree days more now)… There’s even an ‘expanded’ German passport with about 30 free pages or so for people with a job that requires it (would have been helpful to know that before I got my last one).
Anyway, it’s always strange to hear about any bureacratic stupidity that’s actually even more bureacratic and stupid than the German equivalent… OK, because the cosy Olympics and Expo phase is over now, you may make that ‘…the German equivalent or a journalist’s visa for China’… 🙂
You should hear my stories about trying to re-enter Canada (as a Canadian) after years abroad. My re-entry back in 2007 after 4 years without going home was particularly traumatic- the immigration officer (AKA the passport stamper) sent me to the back of the line because I’d filled in the Resident part of the arrivals form. I was, he said, no longer Canadian. As soon as I decided to leave the Middle East (er…Turkey) and come home, I could be Canadian again. I was tired and jet lagged, tried and failed to argue, was sent to the back of the line and filled in the card as a non-resident…then saw the sub-clause on it about non-residents needing visas/having only X amount of time allowed in the country. Since I was Canadian, with a Canadian passport, why the hell did the dude think I should fill in that part?
Oops… I believe ‘resident’ and ‘citizen’ are quite different things. Same here in Germany. You can get a lot of trouble if your’re bold enought to actually ask for entering your own country of birth without that country being your so-called home country. You need a residence in terms of any stupid flat, house, domestic address… Otherwise the stamper guys get funny, depending on their mood, life status, time of day, kind of lunch etc. … BTW, that’s something I saw with people from many other/different countries when waiting (hours) in line in front of any imigration counter in the world… Come home without a home at home and you’re suspect…
On the other hand, I’m also grateful that there are always a few possibilities to make life difficult for a overly bitchy border guard, e.g. if he dares to give you too stupid, moralistic (and actually forbidden) comments regarding your life, your latest whereabouts or any similar drivel about an alledged lack of love for ‘your’ country… In such cases, knowing the German laws and our highly developed culture of complaint to authorities (and everybody else) can really be helpful, and reassuring. Some German courts have already been very specific about such kind of weird nationalistic behaviour of (smaller) officials in the past… that’s good, because most of the jerks know that… 🙂
However, what I don’t understand is the sheer fact that they give you all this sh**t even if you’re without any doubt a Cannadian. I mean, you didn’t apply for a free lift back to Canada at the embassy, for social help, getting e.g. a new liver for free or an otherwise bright life paid by hard working Canadian taxpayers, didn’t you? So, what’s the point? German laws and, sadly, many local people as well, don’t actually like (or know) foreigners, particular those from anywhere outside northern Europe or America. You could even expand that to rich foreigners and the many Germans with non-German roots. That’s bad enough as it is, but at least our pretty medieval immigrantion law has now further issues with Germans which are actually born in Germany and try to re-enter their own country. As I said, you always need an address while you’re here, like in almost all other countries I know. But if you have family living here, no problem. OK. To be fair, one reason for that might be the fact that Germans charge your taxes independent of your actual nationality. If you have an adress here for more than a few months and lose your tourist status, you have to pay income taxes in a way, no matter where you earn your money. At the same time, it’s quite hard to get anything out of that country if you just come back to live here without a job… I simply guess, as so often, money issues count most if it comes to imigrations and nationality concerns…
The residency thing is weird and complex. I’m Canadian. It’s the only country in which I have citizenship. I don’t have any other option. Born, raised, educated there. I quite like it, when I’m there. Still have bank account, investments, retirement funds, credit cards, driver’s license, an entire extended family, a cat. But work abroad for a decade or so (even if you come home for an annual visit)? Dubious. Sketchy.
If I was a passport holder for another country and was just stringing Canada along, just in case, I could understand some of the crap I’ve had to deal with. Being declared a non-resident (as in, tourist or not-even-landed-immigrant) by airport agents was absurd and frankly inaccurate. You’re either a legitimate, passport carrying citizen… or you aren’t.You don’t become a tourist simply by living abroad…
Re. the border guard hassle…that’s crazy!
Re. residency vs citizenship, could it be complicated for some nationalities? I know if my husband returns to the UK, he won’t be eligible for certain things (NHS etc) until he’s been resident again for 6 months.
For most of last year I wasn’t a legal resident anywhere — in the US I’m not paying taxes, not registered to any address, etc, and have only visited for a week in the past 6 years. I felt like a liar when filling in forms and wrote my parents’ former addresses – they’d moved and I hadn’t memorized their new address. Now, it’s a relief to be a legitimate resident somewhere….but we’re still waiting for our residence certificate, and who knows how long that’ll be.
My passport is now a fat book, filled with 75 or so extra pages. And it’s still got 5 more years to go! I shudder to think what a pain it might be to get a new passport here in 5 years, unless I’m still on a work visa.
Ebriel recently posted..Beijing: Not too Bad
I’m a officially a non-resident for tax purposes, which comes pretty much automatically after 2 years for Canadians living abroad. It mostly just means 1. I don’t have to file tax forms and 2. I’ll need to wait for a certain period of time (3-6 months, generally) if I move back before any social/medical benefits kick in. I’m still Canadian and, at borders, am still a Canadian resident. Why they declared I wasn’t is absurd. A non-resident in that case would be a tourist or a landed immigrant who had yet to receive their residence status.
And yeah, that state of flux, where one belongs nowhere. I was there for about 6 months after leaving Turkey, before moving to China. Neither here nor there. I tend to use my parents’ address as my eternal default. It’s nice to feel centered through it. Kind of like a gentle tether.
A 75 page, 10 year passport sounds fabulous. Jealous!
wow, that is an amazing, amazing story – and I can relate to some of it. We’re trying to get perm residency in Australia and some of the paperwork is so difficult – references from our year in India, or a list of every country we’ve been to in the last 5 years. the US passport is easier, I added pages no problem, but I still worry when some country needs a whole page. We have no permanent address, we know no doctors/lawyers etc. It is challenging – but exciting and fun. Not a lot of people I know are living life like this. I’m in Africa now and loving it.
debbie ann recently posted..last day in Melville
Hello! I’ve often wondered what Doug and I will do in the future as he is American and I’m Canadian and neither of us has led a life that would allow us to document all of our jobs and addresses for immigration purposes. Although the past 5 years were brutal to try to list, my entire 20s were far, far worse!
Where in Africa are you? I spent a lot of the late 90s in South Africa with a bit of time in Ghana. Miss all that.
We were in Joburg for a month, staying in Melville – also went to Cape Town and Kruger. Now we are in Kampala for a month. I’d like to go to Ghana, but we have to go back to Australia to meet the 24/30 months residency requirement to apply for perm residency. going to China in Oct. but so far we both love Africa and would like to spend more time here.
debbie ann recently posted..Kampala-Mabira-Kampala
Best passport story ever. You forgot about the where we got half-drunk on margaritas after finding out we’re still Canadian citizens.
Nomadic Chick recently posted..The Danger of Rock Stardom in China
That was the best part!
Passport renewals are truly a pain in the backside yet they somehow make for the most amusing (but also absolutely frustrating) stories. Canadian passport renewals appear to require the same level of effort as climbing Mt Everest all the way to the top, I can’t quite comprehend why they are so utterly difficult about it all. Not that renewing a German passport is easy what with the German embassy not actually knowing what they are doing and not even being allowed to print passports (no, this must be done in Germany which means the application takes a million years to process). Still all those guarantor are so odd and strange!
Countries are weird, I must say.
Most delightful saga (sorry for my insensitivity, pity for your troubles, but nonetheless bountiful chuckles for your readers.) 😉
Most timely too, as I’m just now faced with the expat dilemma of TMFFPAVIMP (Too Many Freekin’ Full Page Asian Visas In My Passport). 5 yrs til it expires, and but 4 blank pages remain (U.S. passports are good for 10 yrs. but originally have just 17 blank pages). Ah but I just learned that I can get a whopping *24* pages added for the paltry (by bureaucratic document ack standards) sum of $84 – yay!
Dyanne@TravelnLass recently posted..WWWWhat Inspired My Addictio… errr Love of Travel
I wish Canada had 10 year papports with addable pages (is ‘addable’ a word??). The whole 5 year thing is just exhausting. I had to pay extra this time to get a 40 pager, which was only introduced this year, finally. Cost about 1000rmb ($150). Argh.
You and I started our lifelong travels about the same time, I went to Kachin State in Burma for 2 years in 1992, and that was the beginning. I didn’t know there were others out there like me.
We are many, it seems… or at least 2!
Yay! New passport! And you do look rather beatific in your new photo — so there’s that. Even if it was a huge hassle getting it. I’m glad I could be your reference… I’m just sorry I’m really bad at, err, saying stuff.
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Better beatific than haggard, which was my old passport photo (bad cold, jet lag, caught in the rain- a real hat trick of horror!). And thank you for braving the call- I had no idea they’d actually follow through. I would have coached you through it, had I known. Well bluffed, lady!
I don’t even want to think about what it will be like when I next renew my Canadian passport from abroad. I wasn’t born in Canada, and though I grew up and went to university there, I’ve spent the last four years living abroad… under a different passport and slightly different name (those of my original birth country). At this point, having the Canadian passport is mostly for sentimental reasons – I did grow up there, and that identity is something I loathe to lose. Maybe Canada makes the renewal process for passports so difficult because they’re trying to catch dual citizens like me? Which frustrates me since I was given those two passports and names as a child… it’s not like I intentionally decided to have messy identities!
Dear god, that sounded like total hell …
Fortunately, when I obtained a new passport in Chile, there’s a Canadian consulate in Santiago, which will issue passports, saving the hand-wringing garment-rending teeth-gnashing possibility of having to deliver the passport-application all the way `round to Canada, only to have the application rejected by a hair that was out of place or a tiny spot of a reflection on my cheek in the not-so-standard passport photograph.
* I would love a thick book of a Canadian passport with ten-year validity.
* I would love it if the process of getting a new passport didn’t involve proving all over again that I am in fact a Canadian citizen. Just because my passport is about to expire or I’m about to run out of pages doesn’t mean somehow I’ve gone all sideways and am less or suddenly not Canadian. Didn’t I *just* have a Canadian passport which states that I’m in fact a Canadian citizen? How is this logical?
* And don’t get me started about non-residents not being allowed to vote … argh.
fotoeins | Henry recently posted..Along the Hamakua Coast on Hawaii’s Big Island
I never understood why my old passport wasn’t considered proof enough that I was who I was and therefore worthy of a new passport. It’s not like the old one was revoked, merely full or expiring…
And yeah, the voting thing. Doug still gets to vote in US elections from abroad. I’d love a say in ours.
This was incredibly refreshing to read. I thought I was the only one jumping hoops for Passport Canada!
I’m going to apply for a new passport tomorrow and hoping it isn’t going to be as painful as my past experience.
The cost of a “24” page passport is now $190! plus an extra $50 for a Lieu of Guarantor form. The only reason I’m in need of a new one is because I ran out of pages… Wish we were as fortunate in the Americans; they can request for extra pages. Grrrr…
Good luck with your renewal! I certainly hope they treat you kindly. Why are Canadian passports so hard to get?
PS I’ve heard rumours that we can now get more pages and there’s a possibility of a 10 year passport in the pipelines…