A Day at the Embassy

It was on a very rainy and gloomy Saturday morning (on January 15, 2005) when I set off from Tsukuba for the Philippine Embassy in Roppongi, Tokyo. The mercury was hitting 5 ^oC when I left home at around 7:30 a.m. The forecast mentioned that snow is expected in Tokyo in the afternoon, so I decided to wear my thick winter jacket, muffler and gloves. They actually proved very handy, as I later found out.

Consular services are available at the Philippine Embassy on Saturdays from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. (with a lunch break from 12:00 to 1:30 p.m.). I arrived at the embassy at exactly 9:50 a.m.; there was already a small crowd milling impatiently around the entrance, a hodgepodge of Filipino women, their toddlers and their Japanese husbands (?), as well as very OFW-looking folks like me. The drizzle that had begun in Tsukuba when I left almost 2 hours earlier never let up, so those who came early to the embassy had to squeeze themselves in front of the entrance, under the canopy that shielded us from the rain. I felt the totality of warm bodies nudging the mercury a degree or two higher, adding to the coziness that subdued the concealed chaos.

Given the reputation of public offices in the Philippines, it was an utter surprise for me to see the entrance shutters actually begin to rise like clockwork at exactly 10:00 a.m. By 10:04 a.m., I was already inside and had logged my name in on the logbook. What followed, however, was typical Filipino.

The forms that I needed to fill up (Report of Birth) were not available for downloading on the Philippine Embassy website, so I had to queue at the Information Counter to obtain the forms. (Less than half of the embassy forms are available for downloading and I am actually wondering why the Report of Birth (ROB) form is not available considering that three originals are required.) As expected, the queue started lengthening soon after the entrance opened. By this time, the shutters that conceal the glass-covered counters were still down and the lights inside were still off. One Filipina joked that maybe those inside were still fast asleep, hehe…

I glanced at my watch, it was already 10:15 a.m., the shutters remained closed and the amusement of some women had already started to metamorphose into visible irritation. The person manning the entrance came in and said something like “They (the staff) are already here so please be patient.” She went inside for a few seconds and then came out. At 10:20 a.m., she picked up the phone and muttered something which I couldn’t hear. At exactly 10:25 a.m., the shutter of the Information Counter opened, revealing a motherly looking lady who started giving out the forms.

Lesson no. 1: The embassy may officially open at 10:00 a.m. but the services begin 25 minutes later.

In a few minutes, I had already received the necessary forms and began filling them up. Since three originals were required for the ROB, it was only at 11:00 a.m. when I finally had the chance to hand my documents at Counter 3, to the lady in charge of examining and processing them.

Let’s give credit to where it is due. I think this lady, whose name I will reveal later in this post, was very motherly, has a very kind face, was very accommodating, and not at all condescending. This kind of treatment was not only towards me but to others as well. Since everyone has to line up, one cannot help but overhear others transacting at the window.

An example: There was this lady who had lost her passport, had very incomplete documents for her passport application, has two kids (out of wedlock with a Japanese man) whose births she was just about to report and whose passport photos, including hers, were far from the required dimensions, and yet with much temerity, was still tiptoeing on belligerence. She even asked such inane questions as: “So where shall I have my photo taken, here or in the Philippines?” You can actually hear “Sus, naku po!” (Good heavens!) echoing from every direction, followed by very condescendingly sounding (feminine!) chuckles. Yet despite these, the lady at the counter just calmly replied, “Sa inyo na po kung saan kayo magpapalitrato.” (This is a polite way of saying, “It’s up for you to decide where you’ll have your picture taken.”)

Lesson no. 2: Bring all the necessary documents, together with the required number of photocopies.

Lesson no. 3: Refrain from asking stupid questions.

The processing of the ROB was not completed by 12:00 noon so I (and everyone else) had to leave the embassy premises for lunch. The drizzle outside was persistent but since I had prepared myself for the elements, I took the cranky weather in stride. My cheap 500-yen folding umbrella though was complaining against the occasional but strong gushes of cold wind. After downing an artery-clogging dish of pork garlic at Matsuya, one of my favorite Japanese fast food restos, I was off to Roppongi Hills, one of the trendiest, if not the trendiest, shopping area in Tokyo. Although I had more than an hour to burn, the continuing drizzle somehow perfectly dampened the elegant ambience of the multibillion yen complex. So where best to pass the time? At a bookstore, of course, in this case, the Aoyama bookstore near Exit 3 of the Roppongi station.

Lesson 4: Be prepared for a lot of waiting and loitering around.

Although the embassy was scheduled to reopen at half past 1 p.m., I was already back there at 1:10 p.m. By 1:15 p.m., the main door opened and the window shutters were already up. Service had also already begun. Did they start 15 minutes earlier to make up for the 25 minutes lost this morning? Well, what the heck.

I had the gut feel that the processing of Theo’s ROB was almost over so I lined up at the counter again to apply for Theo’s passport. All of the documents that I had brought were complete except for the ROB, which was still being processed. When I reached the window, the lady accepted the passport application, examined the documents, praised Theo’s photo for being perfectly correct in terms of dimensions, took Theo’s ROB and other documents from another table, and handed them to me to bring to the cashier for the payments. On the payment slips, she wrote her name; it was Nerie. For most expat Filipinos who have no opportunity to mix with the higher-ups, Nerie is the face of the Philippine Embassy to the thousands of Filipinos in Japan. And I think she’s doing a pretty good job.

Regarding payments, before going to the embassy, I already knew how much was needed for the processing so I had brought sufficient funds. I paid at the cashier and was out of the embassy a few minutes past 2 p.m. I was asked to return anytime on a weekday after January 20 for the release of Theo’s passport. The fees were undoubtedly steep, but as long as everybody pays the same amount, without exception, then they are acceptable.

Lesson 5: Know in advance how much money you need and don't forget to bring it with you to the embassy.

When I was residing and working in Tokyo for more than a year and a half, there was always one place where I couldn’t seem to get enough. From the embassy, I took the Hibiya line and went down about 20 minutes later, at this station where the latest in space-age technology awaits the curious and creatively inspired. For techno geeks like me, Akihabara is the place to be.

Lesson 6: It wouldn’t hurt to do a bit of window shopping at Akihabara after a long and wet day in and around the Philippine Embassy (hehe…).

Did I mention that I bought a new (but inexpensive) stereo at Laox? Ooops…