This morning Chile proved to me that it has mastered the art of making people take the longest route possible and wait in lines for hours. Worst bureaucratic experience of my life.
It all began at the Santiago Airport, February 5th. I thought I had taken care of everything (visa wise), and was annoyed to discover that I still needed to “register my visa” at the address of Morandé 672. Skip a few to Day 1 of orientation. I had already been in Santiago for 16 days and the clock was ticking as far as my visa was concerned. Paola (program director) said we would go as a group within the following two weeks. I was nervous because she didn’t give us an actual date, but she reassured me personally that we would go before March 7, my deadline.
Naturally, it was announced yesterday that we would be going March 8. Oh, the communication skills of those in charge of this program. So although I had an abundance of time last week and I could have gone then, I was forced to skip a guided tour of the city today to get this visa nonsense taken care of. Let me take you through the three government offices I went to, and the eight lines I waited in.
Fila 1 (Line 1): San Antonio 580, Jefatura de Extranjería y Policia Internacional
This is the address Paola gave me. After 15 minutes in line here I was informed I was in the wrong place.
Fila 2: Morandé 672, the real Jefatura de Extranjería y Policia Internacional
I waited in line to pay 800 pesos. I still don’t know why.
Fila 3: The same
I waited in a much longer line to receive a piece of paper with a crappy picture of myself.
Fila 4: A place to make photocopies
Made a copy of my new official document. 100 pesos. Jumbo charges 40. Rip off.
Fila 5: Huérfanos 1570, Servicio Registro Civil y Identificación
Waited 10 minutes to find out I needed another photocopy.
Fila 6: Same photocopy store
Got laughed at while I got ripped off again for another piece of paper.
Fila 7: Huérfanos 1570
By far the worst line. Waited an hour. Got to pay more money.
Fila 8: The same
The last and the most infuriating. It should have never been a line; I was first! The woman working stared me down while she made a 20 minute personal phone call. If she knew how much Spanish I actually understand, she’d be embarrassed.
El fin—almost.
Tired and defeated, I sought out something familiar. Dunkin Donuts on Paseo Huérfanos had no line, and the cajero offered me 2 donuts for the price of 1. He didn’t have to ask twice.
Life in Chile is good once again.
Oh, but did I mention I have to return in two weeks to wait in another line to receive my ID card?
Disclaimer: I don’t think today has shown me that Chile’s government offices are any worse than the United States. In fact, I fully believe most of today’s frustrations stemmed from the fact that I am foreign. Ah, us gringas, we have it so hard.
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