No Longer A Criminal

October 21st, 2009 | 0 Comments | Immigration, Japan, Security / Safety |

A couple of weeks ago I had to make a photocopy of my passport. When I turned to the page containing my Japanese visa I realized that it had expired the day before. I had mistakenly assumed that it expired a couple of months later.

I went to the Japanese Immigration Bureau’s website to find out what documents I had to submit to renew my spouse visa (配偶者ビザ). Afterwards, I called the immigration office in Shinagawa to make sure the site was up to date and that there were no changes to the paperwork I had to present to the authorities.

When I explained to the officer that took my call that I had made a mistake because I had written down the wrong expiration date for my visa, she told me –in a polite, yet grave and terse tone– that it was urgent that I fix my situation at once since the expiration of my visa had made me subject to deportation. I replied that I understood and that it was my intention to renew my visa. The officer, with a certain tone of annoyance, emphasized that I had to take immediate action because my expired visa simply meant that I had no visa at all, which further meant that I was illegally in Japan, contravening its laws and thus in a “criminal situation.” She also told me that I had to furnish a letter that carefully explained why I had let my visa expire and why I deserved a new one.

While I was preparing all the documents required by the immigration bureau, I read several gaijin fora and postings on visa renewals and cases similar to mine. I was surprised to read that apparently in Japan it is not rare for a person with an expired spouse visa to get deported, regardless of how long he or she may have been married and any children he or she might have. Having a family does not change the fact that you are a guest in Japan, which reserves for itself the right to deny admission at any time.

The day I went to the bureau I put on my best nice guy face and made sure that my explanation letter was thoroughly apologetic and sang the praises of Japan. I had to line up twice at the immigration office. At the second counter I visited I had to wait some 20 minutes (of the 35 I spent on the whole) while immigration officers checked my documents and my odes to Japan and while I answered some redundant questions about my mistake/lapse and my enduring desire to have the honor and privilege of having a Japanese visa.

When I was done answering questions, a very polite officer asked me to wait. He returned with a sheet that was written, singled spaced, with a list of the gazillion documents they could ask for (there was no request for DNA samples). He asked me for certified copies of my most recent tax return and a transcript from the most recent educational institution I attended. I thought the second requirement was odd, but did not ask any questions about it (later I would find out that somehow good grades are a sign of being an upstanding citizen). Nevertheless, I did ask what was the maximum number of documents they ever request since the list was truly gargantuan. The officer replied that there are cases in which they ask for every document from that near-infinite list.

When my visa was finally ready (exactly on the day they had promised), I went Shinagawa again. While I was waiting for my ticket number to be called, I amused myself observing other gaijin. Fate would have it there would be an ugly westerner, who was furious because they when they called his number they returned his passport with a visa denial and telling him how many days he had to pack his bags.

Later there were two rather taciturn men waiting to be called. When they got their passports back they were so happy they began to jump, hug and kiss because their visas had been extended for three more years. I thought their reaction was a little bit over the top until they walked right past me, allowing me to see their Iranian passports. That brief moment definitely reminded me that simple things one takes for granted are considered a privilege by others, even a Japanese visa. As a result, I stopped looking at my situation as a comical case of absent-mindedness and decided to be glad I am no longer a criminal.