Our 2 Dominican Volunteers and 49 of our 50 U.S. Volunteers arrived in two separate flights yesterday. Unfortunately, that 1 missing Volunteer means that I had to take a third trip to the airport today. I saw off the Volunteers this morning to go to the briefing site with my fabulous Project Supervisors, while I waited around in Panama City to pick up the last Volunteer.
While waiting, Tony, our Dominican "Promotor de Liderazgo Juvenil," or Youth Leadership Promotor, and I went on a very important mission: to extend his tourist visa so he could finish up his summer with AMIGOS. As a Promotor, Tony supports our Guna and Dominican Volunteers, cultivates youth leadership in the communities, and expands opportunities for youth engagement, all as an unpaid volunteer for our staff. His visa only lasts until July 1st, so we went to extend it until August 17th, when the project ends.
8:30 AM - Tony and I arrive at the Migration Office in Panama City, Panama. We take a number for tourist visa renewals - Q101. Not too bad, they called us up around 9:30. At this point, we had to present various very important, very detailed, yet somehow not very official-looking documents. The application for visa renewal was from 2008 and, even though I brought a typed copy in which
I dutifully changed the date to 2012, the lady at the desk insisted on only accepting the handwritten, four-years-expired document. Odd for Panama, the king of bureaucracy. We also had to present proof of financial stability, various letters of reference, and copies of his passport and ID. This is where we apparently messed up big time. It isn't enough to bring a copy of the main page of your passport, you know, the important part with the picture and passport and expiration date. No, Panama needs you to provide a full photocopy of each and every page of your passport, down to the blank, untouched pages at the end. Once we returned with all of the documents, we thought we were golden, we thought we were the most awesome people in the world, and we knew we'd make it on time to the airport to pick up that poor Volunteer that missed her flight the day before...no.
I dutifully changed the date to 2012, the lady at the desk insisted on only accepting the handwritten, four-years-expired document. Odd for Panama, the king of bureaucracy. We also had to present proof of financial stability, various letters of reference, and copies of his passport and ID. This is where we apparently messed up big time. It isn't enough to bring a copy of the main page of your passport, you know, the important part with the picture and passport and expiration date. No, Panama needs you to provide a full photocopy of each and every page of your passport, down to the blank, untouched pages at the end. Once we returned with all of the documents, we thought we were golden, we thought we were the most awesome people in the world, and we knew we'd make it on time to the airport to pick up that poor Volunteer that missed her flight the day before...no.
11:00 AM - The Migration Office informs Tony and I that we needed to register him with the Office before we solicited a visa extension. This requires, she tells us, that you go upstairs and pick up another number, this time for "registro." They reside at another desk in the same building.
Okay, fine, if you insist.
B-207. Currently, the B screen is flashing an astonishing "B-115."
Ma'am, any idea how far off this number is?
About 3 or 4 hours.
Why the migration officials did not tell me beforehand that we needed to register with the Migration Service before soliciting a visa extension, so I could have facilitated both processes simultaneously, I will never understand.
You really should know our rules and protocol before you work with us, jóven.
I hate when they call me jóven.
I leave Tony there to wait while I pick up the Volunteer at the airport, hoping that everything will be sorted out when I get back. Buh no.
12:00 PM - After a $25 taxi to the airport, I stand in the waiting room outside customs. Her flight is delayed so I distract myself with a strawberry soda. Mmm. Finally, she arrives! All of our Volunteers are in country! Now it's time for a $28 taxi back to the Migration Office (yes, that airport taxi ripped me off).
1:30 PM - We join Tony to wait. When we arrive, the registration desk has seen a startling total of 5 people since I left over two hours ago. "B-120." This might take awhile...Exhausted, I squeeze in a short yet quite efficient nap. Okay, not so short, but I'm tired, OK?
3:20 PM - I awaken to a conversation next to me about how bureaucratic Panama is. Yes. Even Panamanians think so. A man kindly offers me his ticket, saying he's had enough. B-191. We're moving up in the world. Unfortunately, the registration desk is not. The screen currently flashes "B-129." Hmm, perhaps that is because they have one person attending all the 300 that are waiting in line to register. We wait a little longer. "B-130." "B-131." "B-132." "B-133."
I am starting to get a little bit worried that maybe we aren't going to get out of here. Ever. I decide to make a visit to the administration desk, fully preparing myself for some serious red tape.
Ma'am, do you know how long the office will be attending clients today? I have about 60 people still ahead of me, and I know they close the doors at 3.
They will see that everyone that got numbers today gets served, even if it's at 8 o'clock tonight.
Hmm, well I just don't know what to do! I have been here for hours, and I really can't stay another night in the City.
It will go a lot faster, jóven, because people have started to get fed up and leave.
Yes, this is true. You're catching on to the ridiculousness of this process.
Unfortunately, I have to leave to Penonomé as soon as possible (a two hour bus ride away from Panama City). I am in charge of a sixteen-year-old girl and we can't travel at night. Do you have any advice for me?
Without smiling, she hands me a ticket.
Someone just left this with me. Bring your old one back to me.
It says, "B-135."
The golden ticket!
By 4:00 PM, we have registered Tony and solicited a visa extension. But guess what? One lucky person gets to come back in 48 hours to pick it up! I know that Tony and I never want to set foot in that waiting room again...
By 5:00 PM, we are sitting yet again - this time on a bus back to Penonomé. Three hours and another expensive taxi ride later, we arrive at the briefing site.
I thought that I was done with waiting rooms and bureaucracy for the day. But no.
10:30 PM - 1:00 AM was spent in a hospital waiting room with another Volunteer that had to get stitches. Oh the joys of Panamanian public health care.
When I woke up this morning, I never thought I would spend 17 hours sitting and waiting in 3 waiting rooms, a bus, and about 6 taxis. All is well, but my butt is a little sore!
