Say ‘Good night!’ and Go

Just after lunch on a Saturday afternoon, I went to have my passport and driving license photos taken. They would be ready the next day. They turned out all right when I went to get them and then it was a short walk to the immigration dept at Wisma Persekutuan. Took the stairs to the first floor and got my number - 1032. The number being attended to then was 1030. Just about a minute after 1031 was called, my number was called to the same counter - 6. Surely it was a mistake, because the man holding 1031 was still at the counter. Anyways, I just went to the counter and the immigration officer told me to take a seat. At another counter, 1033 was called.

Hmmm, did I just miss my turn? I went back to the counter and another officer figured that the officer at counter 6 must have inadvertantly hit the button twice. So I waited for 1031 to be done while 1034 and the rest of the sequence went to counter 7. Soon, I was called to counter 6 and I gave my ID, the form, and my old passport. That’s when he asked for the photocopy of my ID. Eh? I didn’t know I had to bring that along. Left the stuff there and went across the road to get my ID photocopied. I’m sure plenty of people have forgotten about that too. Took me less than 10 minutes to get it done and I raced back to the dept. Someone was being attended to and I waited. When I spotted a window of opportunity, I decided to slip the photocopy to the immigration officer. I didn’t want to wait and have him think I wasn’t coming back or forget about me. Then I waited. I think it took an hour before it was my turn again.

I informed the immigration officer that one of the details on my ID was wrong (I am not a Hindu). Then he started having problems with the system. Every time he hit the Esc key, he would get an error message. He asked a passing oficcer and she told him to try the ‘Enter’ key. I guess that worked. And then he got another error. No matter how many times he entered the new number, my previous passport number would be displayed. But he persevered through that and the slow system. He told me I could change my name if I wanted, but I still couldn’t change it to the name I preferred (first name and surname). In the end, it became ‘First Name’ ‘Surname’ ‘Father’s First Name and Surname’. So it looks like I have both a female name and a male name. I guess I’ll have to get married to have that settled.

He asked me for my ‘race’ and I told him I was of Chinese-Indian parentage, so he decided to put me in the ‘Lain-lain’ (Other) category. Yay, I am officially an ‘Other’.

Got my thumbs scanned (more than once due to the dodgy system), and then I left my thumb-print on the form I submitted. I paid the RM300 and got my receipt. I was to return the next day (after 2pm) to retrieve my new passport. I thanked the officer by name (he had his name tag) and left.

The next day, I felt a little lazy after lunch, so I dawdled. Then it rained heavily. It finally stopped around 3.30pm. The sun shone brightly and soon all signs that it had rained barely 40mins ago were gone. Reached the immigration office around 4:05pm and my number was 2039. 2031 was currently being attended to and I waited for my turn. I think about 30-40 mins had passed before it was my turn. I bid the officer a good afternoon (it was him again, different counter) and he seemed to remember me. He retrieved my passport from a bundle in a tray, and then hit it against the edge of the counter. Hmmm…maybe it’s something like slapping a newborn baby’s behind? I signed the form I had submitted the day before and then signed my new passport. I thanked the officer again and left.

Where am I going? Nowhere! I need a passport to verify my ID before I can submit (what I hope are worthy) photos to a stock photography site. I just hope that my trusty point-and-shoot camera can pass muster at the site. All I can say is that if a photo is accepted, I will get US$0.25 per download. IF there are parties interested in my photos. I guess I’ll have to keep my fingers, toes and eyes crossed.

So I got back and showed Dad my passport. I told him I could run away now. I could go find someone in NZ, marry him and they would not have to worry about me any more. Ha, if only it were that simple! Life is so unlike a romance novel. My life, at least.

All right then. Time for me to sleep. Take care! Hope I didn’t bore you to tears with this entry.

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