A few key bits of information you will need for the following post:
1) For various reasons all too boring and complex to get into, kzi is currently in possession of legal status with a temporary vistor visa and I am currently illegal, for overstaying mine and having a new replacement passport sans any kind of documentation.
2) Neither of us currently have gaijin cards. Gaijin cards are supposed to be carried at all times by any non-nationalized foreigner. When kzi went to Korea several months ago to renew his visitor visa status, the officials at the airport took his gaijin card before he left the country. And I lost mine. We have been planning on re-applying after our upcoming trip to Korea (August 9th - 11th) after obtaining working visas.
Got all that? Visa status and lack of gaijin cards? Onwards and upwards…
The day began with an innocent search for internet substitutes until we get a real connection at the apartment [1]. Correction: the day began with me crying and flipping out because I’ve been without constant net access for way too long and my brain is liquifying and running out of my ears. Then came the hunt for internet substitutes. We found a passable option with a wireless usb card synced up to the cell networks for delivery of data. Unfortunately, without a Japanese credit card or a slew of other documents *and* a gaijin card, there was no way the helpful uniformed employees were going to allow us to make our purchase. So we decided to go and register for our gaijin cards a little sooner than expected.
City hall introduces us to the Snafu that changes the rest of the afternoon. Let me introduce the Snafu to you in case you haven’t yet surmised… my blank passport devoid of any documentation and the fact that my temporary visitor visa expired at the end of April. No gaijin card until my passport is correctly stamped! Okay then, off to immigration!
I hate the immigration office in Hamamatsu, mostly because it smells like babies, corn, and stale smoke. The people sitting inside look like zombies who have accepted the fact that they will be able to obtain brains only by extreme bureaucratic measures. There is a television constantly broadcasting Japanese soap operas, as if anything dealing with immigration wasn’t already soap opera enough. I take a seat on one of the benches and kzi goes up to the desk to do the explaining. Suddenly my phones buzzes with a new SMS message. It’s from kzi.
Go wait outside.
I try to leave as quietly as possible, sure that I’m about to get deported if they notice me, and sit on a little park bench outside while my head spins both because of the current situation and the heat. A few minutes later I get another message from kzi.
Down the road a bit.
Dazed, I stand up and begin to walk off, unsure of the direction I’m going and anxious to be out of sight in case immigration officials start pouring out of the building looking for me (highly unlikely, but I’m paranoid like that). I snake my way through a maze of houses and end up staring at a bunch of puppies in a plastic cage in the window of a pet store. They look hot and crowded, and I start to get a sinking feeling in my stomach while the dizziness continues to escalate. At this point I’m sure that they are deporting me, and I try to wrap my mind around options trying to decide which ones are the most practical and acceptable, and what the logistics of each might look like. I’m also wondering if I should hide.
Another message from kzi arrives telling me to go to the Circle K in the area. This lends proof to the hiding idea. I move off and two women on bicycles lazily ride past me. One is wearing a shirt that has an english phrase at the bottom: Where there is a will, there is a way. Surely a message from the universe telling me to chill out and relax. Or perhaps a message from the universe telling me I’m not trying hard enough. The Circle K comes into vision and I realize it’s not the right one… I’m lost in a hot, swealtering Japan filled with potential immigration officers around every corner waiting to jump out, shout, “Soy la migra!” and send me packing to… Mexico.
I find a bench in the shade which is perfect for my lost-and-ready-to-pass-out condition, and wait for more messages from kzi. I try to think. I try not to think. I think about the heat and the suspenders the guy who just walked by is wearing, the ones that pull his pants up too high and show the world the white socks he is sporting today. His briefcase looks bulky. I only have half a beverage with me, no money, no passport, and I’m lost. I wonder how much longer kzi will be and if I should ration off my beverage. I fiddle my thumbs and wonder if I’ll get yelled at (and by yell I mean asked very politely and with many apologies) for laying down on the bench. I take a picture of my worried face and post it to this blog. After ages, a message from kzi - he’s going to meet me at the Circle K.
I find myself and head to the correct Circle K. Everything is now okay, though I was about to be deported. The Director had looked over the documents and told kzi he was going to deport me. “Overstayed! Deportation! Deportation!” That is when the first SMS message came. Kzi explained everything to him and it seems all we have to do at the moment is fill out an “overstayed visa” form and take it in tomorrow. This apparently requires my presence, which also might be a trap, so if you don’t hear from me for a while you can assume the worst.
And that concludes the story of how I almost got deported, or how I might get deported tomorrow.
[1] Obtaining internet in Japan is a pain, as are most other things in Japan, when you are in possession of only a temporary visa and no “gaijin” card. Never mind that we have an apartment, a bank account, pay bills and all the other ruckus that usually seems to be sufficient in establishing one’s status as “responsible enough”.
Good luck sweetie.
holy crap!
well, of course i’m hoping for the best. i’m sure it will eventually get worked out and things will calm down a bit for you two. maybe you need to just come out and tell them you’re a ninja - no more hiding in your secret identity as a newlywed esl teacher…
*hugs*
and as always, a place to stay if they wind up shipping you out to these parts.
Hang in there! Sending you lots of good vibes.
i’m gonna call immigration/deportation and get you imdeleported so we can hang out again!
haha!
i win again!
also, you should write suspensful magic-science fiction novels a la stanislaw lem meets
gabriel garcia marquez. you got the voice, sista!
and do cool designy drawings for it like in those $30 magazines you used to read.
awesome!
good luck!
love, alex!