Mabuhay, NOT!

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  Manila, Philippines
Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I had the worst time ever in Manila while on transit, and came close to missing my flight.

I got off the SIN-MNL plane, made my way to the transfer desk and a lady immigration officer came by to escort me to my gate. Wow, not bad, I thought to myself. Filipino hospitality at its best.

Just before I got through Round 1 of security screening, she told me to wait, and shortly after, beckoned me away from the screening queue into a small room.
Seated there were 3 men, smoking and had their shoes off. The seeming 'leader' of them was fat, middle-aged, and rubbing his fingers gleefully between his toes. It was a disgusting sight.

The leader took my passport (with his toe-rubbing fingers no less) and stared at it. He flicked at it and examined it closely before declaring that there was "something wrong with the picture". He insisted that Singaporean passports have full colour photographs. I explained that this was the latest biometric version. He would have none of it.

"Show me your Singapore ID, now" he ordered. The only other ID i had was my driving license, which I promptly showed him.
He took the driving license, held it against the passport, and proceeded to ask the other 2 men whether it was the same person. DUH!!!! The other men did not reply, they only looked at the picture and smiled.

By now, they had asked me to go in and sit down at the far inside end of the room. I refused, and stood my ground near the doorway. They were evidently pissed, as I tried to convince them that my documents were in order.
"When did you become Singaporean?" - "I AM Singaporean!"
"No, when did you become Singaporean?"
"How did you become Singaporean?" - "I was born there" - "No, what country you from?"

WTF!??!?!
I was trying hard not to lose my patience.

He then started saying that I am "obviously not Singaporean" because my ID was a different colour.
Duuuuude.... this is my driving license, NOT a blue NRIC!! AARRGHHHH-ness!
I tried explaining, but all he could yell at me was that "Singapore ID is pink colorrrrr!".
Clearly, illiteracy is not a barrier to being a "top" customs official at the airport.

He then kinda implicitly threatened me by grabbing my boarding pass from me, holding onto my passport and driving license and then flipping open a big notebook labelled "OFFLOADED PASSENGERS".
I was boiling mad but maintained the veneer of cordiality the best as I could, and proceeded to turn on my cellphone. It would be a case of "Hello, MFA Duty Office?" and hoping that Desmond/Raymond in Manila could help me. Or, at worse, I would have had to pay a "fine" (aka bribe) to these assholes.

The illterate toe-scratcher then made a few calls on his cellphone, while I anxiously watched the clock -- my plane to Los Angeles flies at 2200hrs. It was 2140hrs by then. I had been trying to prove my "Singaporeanness" for the past 20mins.

I was then asked to speak to some immigration officer, who proceeded to ask me, over the phone, various questions about Singapore, my address, my details, whatever.

Finallly, after much firm "negotiation" with the person on the phone, the toe-scratcher gave a grunt and thrust my documents back at me.
What the fuck was that all about?
I didn't care. It was 2150hrs and I had yet to clear security.

As I was taking off my shoes 3 times and being pat down by female security guards, I heard an announcement over the PA system  repeatedly calling for "Passenger Felicia Wong on flight PR 102 to report to the ground staff before boarding the aircraft".
Hell would I "turn myself in" again.
I pretended not to hear, got thru security, and ran down the aerobridge, into the plane, went to my seat.

PHEW! I was relieved, yaaay! I got on the plane!

Then... the ground crew came on board and stopped at my seat, asking for all my travel documents, again.
"Why are you going to the US?"
"Where's your Visa?" -- I don't need one, Singapore's on Visa Waiver.
"What address is this? Who lives at this address?"

It was a frustrating 10mins of answering questions like a criminal -- esp when I have absolutely no fracking idea what did I do wrong -- before they got off the plane and we taxied at about 2210hrs.

Needless to say, I was anxious and upset for the rest of the flight:
If the Philippines treated me this way, what more US immigration?

My fears were not unfounded.
Continued in the next entry.

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