Most of life is a learning process. I think when you quit learning in one way or another, you begin to die. Or maybe it just speeds up. Maybe a part of you is already dead and you don’t know it.
Living overseas accentuates this need for learning. Nothing is a given. Certainties are elusive if they exist at all. It isn’t that there isn’t stability, but rather that accessing that stability is complicated – perhaps impossible – for the foreigner. Consigned to a second-class citizen at best, and I don’t argue that. It’s the duty of a country to look out for it’s own people. Others are necessarily an afterthought, and as Europe and America are discovering, a complicated afterthought. Still. Always.
I received my new US passport last week. What a huge relief! Considering I was laid out with the flu all of last week, this was a much needed bright spot in my otherwise bedridden life in a hotel room in Kuala Lumpur. God is good. I recovered, and I have a new passport.
The process was more involved than the US Embassy in Kuala Lumpur led me to believe, a reminder of the difficulty of clear communication both in giving and receiving. I was told to just show up, no appointment necessary, on Monday or Wednesday between 2pm and 3pm to have my old passport invalidated (two holes punched through the information page of the passport – kinda funny in this high tech age!), and receive my new one. I showed up on time with all the necessary ID. I had naively expected they would do this at the front gate and I wouldn’t need to actually enter the embassy. But that was wrong.
In a feverish fog I entered the embassy after passing through security and surrendering my phone. I figured out how to get a number and resigned myself to waiting. But after a few minutes a rather garbled announcement was made. Several other obviously non-Malaysian people queued up at a particular window and were given new passports, so I got in line as well. A few minutes later I had my old passport invalidated and my new one in hand. They apologized I had to wait so long, but I was grateful I hadn’t waited as long as I could have. The website said it takes five weeks to get a new passport, and I got mine in three. God is good.
As I was gathering my documents to leave the woman asked if I needed an info sheet for the Malaysian immigration office. It didn’t sound like something I needed but I’ve kind of learned never to refuse an offered piece of information so I took the poorly photocopied sheet of info. On the way back to the hotel I read it over, and was grateful I erred on the side of caution.
Turns out that it’s not polite (allowed) to enter a country on one passport and then leave on another without the courtesy of an explanation. I needed to go to the Malaysian immigration office and obtain a ‘special permit’ indicating that I had given them that explanation and they were satisfied with it. If I didn’t do this, I wouldn’t be allowed to leave the country, which is problematic, to say the least. My sojourn in KL has been much longer than I would have liked, and I had no desire to extend it further.
So Monday afternoon I headed down to the immigration office. It took me the better part of 90 minutes to figure out where to go. Obviously, nothing is in English, and my Bahasa Indonesia language skills are tenuous, which means my Bahasa Malayu language skills are also tenuous. But, between my knowledge and Google and two misdirections from staff, I found the right place.
Where I was immediately told to go home and come back the next day as there was no chance they could get my paperwork processed in the next three hours. He pointed me to a QR code and told me to scan it and then register the next morning from home before coming in.
I had no idea what that meant. But I got up early and tried to register online. No luck. I went down to the immigration office anyways and he confirmed the worst. I needed to get up earlier to register. Because I hadn’t, there was no chance they would get to me Tuesday either. So I turned around and went back to the hotel.
Wednesday morning I got up bright and early. At 6:00am on the dot I tried registering and was successful. Within an hour I was back at the immigration office. There was an orderly line from 7:15am to about 7:45am.
Then they opened the doors.
Immediately everyone behind in line pushed forward in a chaotic rush. Space equals opportunity in Asia, and if you aren’t literally standing on the person in front of you, someone else is going to see that as an opportunity to squeeze in front of you. So I stuck close to the people ahead of me – until I passed them. I showed my registration to the agent, who pointed out I still needed to register that I was on site. Ack. I should have done that immediately upon arrival. Because I didn’t, my number wasn’t the lowest – there were roughly 90+ people ahead of me in the queue. But apparently there was still a reasonable expectation they could finish my paperwork that day.
My number was called almost three hours later, and I presented my documentation and tried to explain what I needed to accomplish. An agent processed everything and then told me to sit back down. They would call my number again and then I would pay the small fee. Glorious!
Two hours later they called my number and I went and paid. But, that was not the end. I needed to wait again until they called my number. Then I could pick up my materials and leave.
That happened just shortly after 4:00pm. So I sat for nine hours waiting. No food. No water. No bathroom. They warned that if they called your number and you didn’t come up, you’d lose your place in line, and there was no way I was going to take that risk!
But my efforts were successful. I walked out with a piece of paper stapled into my new passport. And my old passport. A bit anticlimactic after all the effort, but I was certainly not going to complain!
I now – theoretically – have everything I need to leave Malaysia. I have a new passport. And, the icing on the cake, I received an e-mail while I waited in the Malaysian immigration office that my Indonesian digital nomad passport was approved. Which means I’ll be able to go home for the first time since the first week of August. Of course, that won’t happen right away. Gena will join me here in Kuala Lumpur on Sunday, and then we’ll depart together for Hong Kong on Monday. She has to be out of Indonesia to apply for her visa now that I have mine. But by the end of the month, we’ll be able to go back to Indonesia together – and that will be a happy day!
Thank you for prayers and well-wishes. Your support and encouragement has been appreciated during this two-month exodus and wandering in the wilderness! I’ve learned a lot in that time. Most of it I hope to never need again, but it’s learning all the same. I’m still alive. Always dying, but always learning and living along the way.
