This year, however, I am happy to report that my visa experience was...well.....almost easy. I am still trying to work out why. It could be that I went in a year wiser, with another year of living abroad experience under my belt. On the other hand, I noticed a few improvements at the offices visited in the process. One local office has a complete new service center; what once required visits to several offices on several different floors can now be done in one shiny new service center, complete with stools! One other variable could be that last year I was simply overwhelmed with having recently moved to a new place and small details piled up make the whole process seem more frustrating than it really was.
Starting my renewal process, I had a bit of a snafu with my school. Turns out a new policy requires tuition to be paid prior to approval of a visa extension. Scrambling around to get a year's tuition took a bit of doing. After a few more 'bumps' I had the needed paperwork and easily got the required stamps from the local officials. However, the greatest foe lay ahead of me. The dreaded city office where visas are processed. After last year's debacle I began preparing myself several days prior to submitting my application. It involved a strict regimen of self-talk, self-help books, and breathing exercises that could be used to defer anger at the dreaded line cutters. Finally, the day arrived. Waking up early, I walked the 20 minutes to the bus station, listening to soothing music all the way, and prepared to enter the fray.
Walking up the steps to the office I took a deep breath and plunged through the large double doors. Keeping my head down in an attempt to ignore the expected crowds I turned immediately to my right, stopped, and pushed the button on the kiosk labeled, "foreigner visa application." Reaching down I pulled my ticket, number 1004. Taking note of the number, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and then turned to face the inevitable. The long lines. The aloof clerks. The crowds. The CUTTERS. I was in no way prepared, however, for what I found.
I opened my eyes and found the waiting hall less full then usual. Following the long row of LED screens marking each window I slowly cast my glance to the final window; the "Foreigner Window". As my eyes beheld the screen I honestly think an orchestra started playing, the violins starting with a low tremelo crescendoing into a full orchestral version of the Hallelujah Chorus! The choir joined in and belted the familiar words of that well known tune, "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" There, before my eyes on the LED screen was 1 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 4! Could it be true? I checked my ticket again. 1-0-0-4. My eyes returned to the LED as I heard the announcement, "Number 1-0-0-4 please make your way to counter 10." Frozen in shock, my eyes left LED screen and fell to an even more unfathomable sight. There, in front of counter 10, was nothing. No one. No people. No line. NO CUTTERS!
The orchestra/choir continued as I made my triumphant march across the hall. I marched past the 10's of people sitting in chairs, waiting. I marched past the long lines at other counters. I marched confidently. I marched with my chin held high. My number was up. It was my turn. I WAS FIRST.
The music stopped just as I arrived at the counter. It's hard to remember exactly the demeanor of the clerk. I'd like to say she jumped to her feet at my arrival exclaiming, "Hark! You have come. How may I assist you?" In reality I don't think she even said anything other than letting me know I had forgotten to sign one document. In just a matter of minutes she'd arranged my documents, taken my photo, printed and handed me my receipt. "Nothing else? I'm finished?", I asked still in stunned disbelief. "Hao le", she said. This is the beautiful Chinese word for 'OK'. And just like that, I was done.
Turning toward the door, I walked back past the poor souls still in their respective lines, their eyes moving anxiously between the LED, their watches, and their tickets; all the while keeping watch for fear of the ever present danger of the dreaded cutter. Sadly, the orchestra must have been off accompanying some other person's moment of triumph and ecstasy. According the clock on my cell phone I was in the office less than five minutes. This was a good day. Having carved out the whole morning for the always hard-to-plan trip to the visa office, I headed back to the bus wondering what I'd do with my new found free time.