10 years, 34 countries, a bazillion stamps and visas, an awful lot of new friends. I can’t believe it’s time for a new one.
Officially, it’s my third passport, but technically, my fourth.
Just before this one, I had a temporary.
In May, 2004, I found myself in Thailand with no entries left on my two-entry China visa. (I was between multi-entry visas). Not only that, but I had only two months left on my passport. The standard is 6 months of validity to secure a visa.
Sitting at the Bangkok airport, I evaluated my options and decided Hong Kong was the answer. I knew it fairly well. They speak English, and they stamp passports at the airport. I flew to Hong Kong.
After explaining my plight, and signing a form that said if I was still there after 27 days, I could be arrested, I exited the airport, a legal entrant into Hong Kong.
The next morning, I arrived at the US Consulate first thing. There, I presented passport photos (shot in a photo booth at a mall in Hong Kong), my passport form, and my plea. Two hours later, I exited with a brand new passport, good for one year, with a clear message that it was to be replaced with the real thing ASAP.
Now for the hard part. The day prior, I had called one of my friends in China’s central government, senior enough to instruct people to do unusual things. He had sent a letter to the consulate, complete with his chop, instructing a while-you-wait visa rather than the 1-day, 3-day or forever wait usually prescribed. Well, he was going to send the letter.
I turned in my forms and photos at the counter, and advised that there should be a special exception letter regarding my visa. The clerk did not have it. She checked the fax to be sure. I took a seat on the floor and sent an email to Beijing to see if all was ok.
Lunch hour came and they shoo’d me out of the consulate as they rolled down the doors to take their couple-hour lunch break. Sitting over a bowl of noodles and a tea at a hole-in-the-wall nearby, I finally felt slightly miserable and a little worried.
2 pm. Back at the consulate. The clerk sees me and waves me over. She had the fax. She handed me my stamped passport, collected the fee and sent me on the way.
I don’t remember the flight that evening. I was sound asleep. The next morning, the press conference went as planned.
But a little advice? Get your passports and visas the regular way.
