“A week is long time in politics” and related phrases are much over used but I need to be allowed to use it’s Drama cousin here as it is fully appropriate: A day is a long time in Drama.
That 24 hour period started at 5.30pm on Wednesday and it was a really tough one. So here we go ….
My colleagues have been working with other schools in the region to take 14 of our year seven to nine students to Manila, next Tuesday to Friday for four days of Drama activities and play making sessions. The first arrangements were put into place in September 2014 and after that all went smoothly until …
At 5.30pm on Wednesday we received an email from the Manila organisers saying that they had been told about a Philippine Government rule stating that anyone under 15 year old would not be allowed into the country unaccompanied by their parents unless they had completed a complicated pre authorisation process. Apparently this process was to prevent child-trafficking.
Read on.
With only days to go before the Tuesday departure plus Monday and Tuesday being official holidays in KL my immediate thoughts were: what had to be done and could it be done? This being Malaysia where nothing is straightforward and logic or simple processes rarely appear to be used I knew that solving the matter would not be easy. This was initially compounded by a lack of clear or consistent information. The document that all the participants apparently needed was called “Waiver Exclusion Ground” (I have no idea what that means in English either) and the only consistent message that we got was that each student had to have one or they might be turned back on arrival at Manila Airport, but then apparently, they might not be possibly. Better safe than sorry, I reckoned.
Google told me that the Philippine Embassy in KL opened at 8.00am each morning so on the evening before I found myself back at my office desk preparing every required paper and as many other potentially useful papers that I could so that I could help get all the kids and their parents prepared for what they needed to do. Wisely, I thought, I needed to phone the embassy in KL first though to ask the obvious questions including did we actually need this snappily named “Waiver Exclusion Ground.”
At 8.02am I rang. The automated answer announced that the embassy did not open until 9.00am. I briefed a very reliable colleague from the school’s human resources department and we both stood by to phone again at 9.00am, on the understanding that we suspected that we would both be told different things. My call got answered by a cheesy automated voice that gave me ten options to choose from. I chose the mostly likely one and waited, and waited and waited. Occasionally the automated voice apologised and told me to select another option, return to the operator etc etc. In short there was no answer and I had to teach my next lesson. Eventually my HR colleague got through to a human being after waiting for 20 minutes of being pushed around in the automated style-ee. She asked all the pre-agreed obvious questions and got given complicated, confusing and contradictory answers from the very person who should have known what to do. That official was clearly using the classic KL defence of don’t let yourself get blamed: “I don’t know."
At 10.20am I took the decision to collect Edwin, who I had agreed could go on the trip, and every piece of paper including his and my passports that I thought we could possibly need and drive to the embassy to try get something happening.
The Philippine Embassy is a small two storey semi tropical place in central KL, dwarfed by the nearby KLCC towers and other, ever growing sky-scrapers. There was no parking outside the embassy, but that did not stop anyone parking outside the embassy and so we did too. Knowing that the embassy might close at 11.30am, as the answer machine message had said I knew that we were against the clock, possibly, although I suspected that the message would be wrong. It was. The place closed at 12 noon, had a one hour lunch break and then opened again at 1.00pm to 4.00pm. Arriving at 11.15am I was cautiously hopeful.
Edwin and I walked in and approached a desk which we thought, due to the lack of signs, might be the one we needed. Apparently it was. Various websites and sources had told me that we had to have a copy of the return air ticket and the official WEG form otherwise we would not be successful in our application. When I finally got to the front of the queue I presented everything that I thought we need to the bloke behind the counter. He assured me that I did not need a copy of the return air ticket and the official WEG form, despite what the official websites had said, altough I did need to present a photocopy of mine and Edwin’s passport. I presented the real things to him which he mumbled were no good. “Photocopy,” he mumbled. Could the embassy photocopy it for me? I asked hopefully. No. Did they have a photocopier? No. Although there used to be some bloke there with a photocopier but he had now “gone away.” He followed up his “Gone away” statement with a casting of the left hand in a random direction as if to add emphasis. The nearest photocopier might be in the KLCC shopping centre he said, but then, as I now began to think, it might not. Who knew? I did do the sensible thing though and asked exactly what had to be done and what documents be presented. He answered my questions with more mumbling and I asked again and again until he could be persuaded to raise his voice from mumbling to burbling. It also turned out that I had to pay RM96.25 to make this paperwork happen. Naturally that was not a straightforward process either. It was cash only. My final question was about the embassy opening times. 9.00am to 4.00pm he assured me. Continuous, his word not mine. Despite the signs in the embassy and the contradicting times on the answer machine they did not close for lunch.
Edwin and I left the car parked where it was and walked to KLCC to track down a photocopier, cashpoint and lunch. All of which, quite surprisingly we found quite quickly and returned to the Philippine Embassy by 12.15pm.
The counters were closed for lunch. Of course they were. the signs said they re-opened at 1.00pm, but then who knew whether that was true?
Eventually the minutes passed and I got into a queue to present the various photo copies. Wordlessly they were accepted, fingers were pointed to the cash desk and money handed over. I was given a receipt which had various scribbles on it including “3pm.” To try to kill two more hours Edwin walked back to KLCC and mooched around a bookshop, returning at 2.20pm. It was then that I broke the rules. I approached the counter and asked early for the document. I thought that I was about forty minutes early. It turned out that I was a week early. The scribbles turned out to read “5th Feb.” The WEG would be ready for a week, precisely two days and five hours after Edwin needed it. I was not pleased.
I raised my voice. I insisted. I gave the look of a man under pressure. That resulted in more scribbles the forms and more seemingly random gestures towards the cash desk. It also resulted in another RM36 to be paid for an express service. I handed the extra cash over, as well as the documents that I had been given back for some reason to the cashier who, recognising the need for an express service slowed her walk down to semi-dead speed and took as long as she could in delivering the papers back
to the same faceless bureaucrat that they come from moments earlier. Thank goodness for the express service, I thought. How long would it have taken the cashier to walk the three metres otherwise? Our new cashier ticket now said 4.00pm, the same day.
Forty-five minutes before our due time two other parents arrived in clutching the sets of documents that I had prepared on Wednesday evening ready to do battle with the Vogon like embassy officials. Throughout the day I had been updating Drama HQ at school and the right messages had been sent out to the right parents so that they could get on with the process more swiftly than I had. A plan was coming together. I watched on and encouraged as one mum went for a combination of flattery and shouting at the officials to get her daughter’s WEG done. Her receipt came back with the delivery time of 5.00pm, the time only being of note given that the place apparently closed at 4.00pm. The next parent to submit their child’s papers was given the ready time of 6.00pm. What exactly were the opening hours?
Ten minutes earlier than planned Edwin’s WEG was presented to us. In order to try to prevent child trafficking the gold plastic embossed certificate that was given to us said, in very complicated language, that some bloke had looked at the photocopies that I had presented, found them in order and attached a gold plastic embossed certificate to prove that. All that would have taken a week, but had somehow been speeded up, thanks to money. Quite whether this document would be of any use was not made clear to us, nor was it clear whether we would have to pay customs officials in Manila another load of cash.
So in conclusion we had paid more than RM130 in order to have a document handed out that might be useful, but then might not. The question remains what if we had not got the WEG form, the very form that was designed, apparently to prevent child trafficking. It turns out that people might be able to pay around US$100 on arrival, possibly with the correct papers, to get round the process, possibly.
It was all thoroughly ridiculous and potentially pointless. I arrived back in the Drama office at 5.30pm with the WEG, precisely 24 hours after learning of this silly form.