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Visa Trek: The Final Frontier - or - How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Red Tape
It seems that the Department of Immigration and Multicultural and Indigenous Affairs has deigned to finish processing my visa application. Of course, they can't just tell me the results. No, I have to go haul my immigrant behind out of Australia and apply to a consulate/embassy/whatever just to find out whether or not I can go back as a permanent resident. But hey, do I really need an excuse to keep travelling?
Even though I have a ticket back to the US, I concluded that in the end it'd be cheaper and easier to just go to New Zealand and save my one way back home for a real visit with my family. There is no Australian Mission anywhere in Washington state anyway, so in order to get my visa results I wouldn't be able to stay at home, and then I'd have to scrounge up the airfare to get all the way back to Oz. Instead, I employed a cheapo backpacker travel plan to Auckland, and have already jumped through my first bureaucratic hoop at the Consulate General.
I am now beginning to understand my efforts at obtaining permanent residency as more than just futile flailings against a faceless bureaucracy. No, DIMA has a function greater than guarding the shores of Australia from hordes of refugees who haven't filed the proper papers-- it is a school of enlightenment, of spiritual fortification. With every frustration comes a secret foil-wrapped lesson for those who are persistant enough to find it and pick it out.
First in the long visa process was my assessment. I had to provide evidence of my worthiness to become a follower of the Church of DIMA. I had to prove my initial qualifications-- was I clever? Was I educated? Could I follow the rules? This process brought about at the same time a self-assessment, the key element of any initial spiritual journey. Then came the exorbitant fees, to show that material possessions meant nothing in pursuit of my spiritual goal. Letters of reference tested my ability to connect with others, taught and demonstrated community. Medical exams showed that my body was the temple of my soul. The length of the process (a year and a half) and the lack of information required patience and faith.
And now the final test: demonstrating the ability to not go completely postal after all the bureaucratic B.S.
I received a letter from DIMA detailing what I needed to do to complete this whole visa process. "I am pleased to inform you that your application for migration to Australia is likely to be successful subject to the decision maker being satisfied that you are entitled to a visa." A coy, but tempting carrot. I followed the instructions in the letter, sending DIMA the details required: the overseas mission which I was visiting and an itinerary advising the date I was departing from Australia, my passport number, and a few other nitpicky pieces of information. Then I set off for New Zealand on Thursday, 1 May. Since my plane landed at 4:20, I arrived in Auckland too late to visit the consulate, so I settled in at my accommodation, had dinner, and made an early night of it for my travel-weary bones.
Early the next morning I headed for the consulate, in the wind and rain (which I am now secretly sure was arranged by DIMA somehow in order to make my journey more arduous). I took a number, thinking, Is this all they've got? Making me wait a measly 15 minutes? Ha! I'm all over this. But I had grown arrogant and full of hubris. I had lost my way. It was time for the bureaucratic smack down. I walked up to the window when my number came up, handed over my passport and my tempting carrot of a letter. I'm sorry, said the polite Asian lady behind the window, we don't have your details yet. You should send an email to the Skilled Processing Centre and ask them to forward us your visa results.
OK, so what was the point of mailing them my itinerary in the first place, then? I just hope that the light I saw in the tunnel meant the end of the tunnel and not an oncoming train. Looks like I've yet got miles to go in my journey. Fortunately for me, there's plenty of entertainment to be found in Auckland while I'm here, unwinding the red tape.
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