Visa

Sorry.

If my calculations are correct, I have now succeeded in alienating my entire readership and toppled Casey Serin as the world’s most hated blogger. Truly I had a rare moment of divine prognostication when I chose my domain name.

I won’t take another four months to write my next post.

I’ve been getting spammed pretty hard these days. So, if I don’t know you and your comment isn’t approved, it’s probably because I thought it was spam. Please make sure to say something relevant like, “You rock” or “You are the greatest thing to ever happen to the internet”. Also, don’t name yourself “viagra”. If I know you and your comment isn’t approved, it’s probably because I don’t like you.

If you are of Korean decent, born in the US, living in Korea on a visa other than F-4 that will expire in two weeks, want an F-4, on the US payroll, have a friend who can translate Korean for you, have family in Korea that can vouch for you, and don’t mind reading needlessly long stories that keeps switching tenses, then this blog post is for you. The rest of you can better spend your time here. Or here. But not here. Let’s begin.

If anyone ever tells you getting an F-4 visa is easy, you look them straight in the face and call them a liar. I had two such people do so, and I can assure you I will never be speaking to them again (you guys aren’t reading this are you?). But before we get to how I got an F-4 visa, I’d like to waste more of your time by giving you back story that you totally don’t need to know.

Let’s rewind 6 months. I was preparing for my move here. My company back home graciously allowed me to keep working for them from Korea (you guys are reading this right?). They were even taking care of my visa which was great news for me since I didn’t know anything about how to get one of those things. What I didn’t know they were going to do is hire a consulting agency that would charge me $1,000 to help me out with this. Seriously, does it really need to be this expensive? I would later find out that yes, it really does need to be that expensive. But I thought, “whatever, I’m working from Korea for a company I enjoy working for in the US. I’ll save my complaining for my blog six months down the road when it’s too late for them to change their mind.”

Let’s start a new paragraph here to give the appearance of some structure to this post. So this consulting agency must have not known I was half Korean, because they got me a D-8 visa. Corporate Investment. For some reason they can’t get a one year visa, so they get a six month one and tell me we’ll have to go back in February. It expires on March 23. Fine with me. I pay them the $1,000 and make a mental note to email them in February.

February comes. I decide to get on the ball this time and not wait until the last minute to email them. I make first contact on February 15. I’m informed three days later (after a couple emails in between) that it will be another $1,000. Huh? I liked working with this consulting agency. They’re nice people and I can recommend them to anyone who doesn’t mind spending the cash, but I’m not spending another $1,000 to stay in Korea for another 6 months. Especially considering the fact that I plan on staying at least another year here and will have to go through this another 2 times. I decided to Lone Ranger it. (Keeping in mind the Lone Ranger had a side kick to account for my Korean friend who helped me. In this analogy I would be Tonto. Only not Indian. And I suppose the Lone Ranger would be Korean. And … ah forget it.) I figure it might be good to know how to do this anyway.

I already know what documents I need to renew my D-8 visa, so I assume things will go smoothly. Ha! I send off two emails. One to the company back home with a list of documents I need from them, and one off to the branch here in Korea with a list of documents I need from them. Then I wait. My email gets bounced around to various people in the US with not a whole lot to show for it. Things fare even worse on the Korean side. I get an email back saying they can’t help me, because the office here is too small. They give me a number of a law firm to call. I call. They say they can help me. After a few emails, I find out they charge an average of KRW 700,000. Considerably better than the consulting agency since that translated to about $450 at the time thanks to a very weak Korean won. I reluctantly agree to use their services since my expiration date was approaching, and I didn’t know how else to get the documents I needed.

I haven’t paid any Korean taxes. This may or may not be a bright thing to say for all the world to see, e.g. Korean government (cause I know they’re reading my blog), but I honestly don’t know. I tell the law firm this and they inform me I might not be able to get my visa renewed because of this. I tell them I won’t be needing their help anymore.

The date is now March 9. I expire in 14 days and I have made zero progress on my visa. I decide to place all my chips behind an F-4 visa. Accelerate to ramming speed. All systems are go. Hi-ho, Silver! I did not just say that.

For those of you who don’t know (which is probably all of you and none of you since I’m guessing everyone gave up on finishing this post by now), an F-4 visa is for someone who has at least one parent or grandparent that is Korean and apparently gives you powers akin to those of Korean citizens. I’m not really sure, but I’d like to imagine I can now walk into a Korean restaurant and finish off the biggest bowl of noodles in the Eastern hemisphere without anyone batting an eye. This has become number one on my bucket list. Right above blowing bubbles in sub-zero weather. You think I’m joking.

To get an F-4 visa you need proof that your parent/grandparent was born in Korea and proof that you are their child/grandchild. I had my parents send me my birth certificate, my mom’s citizenship papers, my parent’s marriage certificate, my mom’s visa paperwork when she first arrived in the us, Red Bull, and embarrassing baby pictures of myself. I downed the Red Bull, burned the pictures, and went to work. Or in reality, I was told copies were okay, and we didn’t have time for mail, so my parents faxed me these things. Meanwhile, my family here in Korea worked on getting me my mother’s geneology papers (I think it’s the Korean equivalent to a birth certificate for everyone in the immediate family).

I believed I had all the documents I needed so I was ready to renounce my mom’s Korean citizenship and apply for the visa. It’s now March 10. Kyun (my Korean friend who did the talking), my uncle, and I go to Gangnam-gu office to renounce my mom’s Korean citizenship (necessary for anyone applying for an F-4). We’re told I either need my mom’s original US citizenship papers or my mom needs to do it herself at the Korean embassy in the US. So I can either ask my parents to mail me this important document and hope it gets here in time, or I can ask them to drive 5 hours to the Korean embassy on a weekday.

Other people told me they did it with a copy of the original document so I was hoping the woman we talked to didn’t know what she was doing (which she didn’t; she had to call people to find out what to do). That same day we made a trip to the immigration office in Anguk to see what we needed exactly to apply for an F-4 visa. When we got there there were 238 people in front of us. We went out to lunch and when we came back an hour later they had went through less than 30 people. We left.

I changed my plan to get a temporary visa. That should buy me time to get the F-4. A C-3 looked good. I made plans with Kyun to go to the immigration office in Omokgyo first thing the following morning, and held off on asking my parents to do anything.

We go. We’re told that I’m not eligible for a short-term visa because I’m already here. We’re told again that we need the original citizenship papers. We’re additionally told that we need a document that proves my mom changed her name. We’re additionally told we need other documents we don’t have. I’m not sure what exactly. More documents my family here had to get including my grandparent’s death certificate. I’m pretty sure I could’ve gotten them a Caramel Latte from Starbucks and I would’ve been in, but I didn’t think about it at the time. I leave there alone to go to the US embassy to try to get the document that proves my mom changed her name to an American one. They’re closed. I’m in disbelief. The US embassy in Gwanghwamun closes at 11:30 AM on Wednesdays. Every other day they’re open all day. What. The. Heck. I again hold off on asking my parents to do anything because I’m unsure of whether I can get the name change document or not.

I go to the US embassy first thing Thursday morning. They have a door reserved for US citizens. I feel special and walk in. Nay, I sashay in. I get patted down. They take my cell phone, my iPod, and my AA batteries. I’m now isolated, bored, and powerless. I continue to the main building and take a number. I wait 20 minutes, talk to the lady for 2 minutes, and leave. Without any documents. I’m told my mom would need to be there in person. She needs to fill out a form and have it notarized. Being the moron I am, I didn’t ask where she could get the document.

It’s now time to ask my parents to do stuff. I call them and tell them I need them to find this document, get it notarized, and send it to me along with my mom’s original citizenship papers. It will be Friday by the time they can send these assuming they can find the documents proving my mom changed her name (if you ever go to another country do your kids a favor and keep your foreign name).

I’m worried. When you think about it, it’s not really a big deal. I was planning to visit the US in the summer so what’s the harm in going 6 months early? Right? This is true, but there’s something about being deported that’s a little unsavory to me.

My parents called me on Friday to tell me they flipped the US citizenship papers over. On the back side it has a sentence stating my mom changed her name and is signed by the clerk of the Superior Court. Perfect. It’s being express mailed to me. The postmaster thinks it will be here by Monday, March 16. Can we celebrate now? Probably not.

I spend the weekend in Busan with my girlfriend. Ate sashimi. Went on a dinner cruise. Visited an aquarium. Missed our train back. Didn’t think about my visa. Good times.

Then Monday came. And went.

Plane tickets to the US are vanishing.

The documents my parents mailed me came on Tuesday — yesterday. I emailed Kyun the text so he could translate everything. It was too late to do anything else so we had to wait until the next day. Can we celebrate now? Let’s wait a few more paragraphs.

Today’s the next day. I go with Kyun, my uncle, and my aunt back to Gangnam-gu Office to get some more documents I need. I ride the subway for an hour and get there only to realize I brought everything except for the documents my parents mailed me. I ask my family to meet me in Omokgyo to do everything since that’s where I need to apply for my visa anyway. I find out they weren’t planning to help me renew my visa today. It’s close to an hour and a half subway ride to Omokgyo. My aunt just had surgery. Crap. I give them 20,000 won to take a cab. I take a cab of my own. After saying the name of where I wanted to go a few times the driver finally figured out what I was trying to say. He tried talking to me in Korean, but quickly realized I no clue what he was saying. I paid the KRW 12,000 cab fee, grabbed the documents, and took another cab. The guy laughed at me when I told him that I needed to go to immigration office in Omokgyo in Korean, but he figured it out. Add another 8,000 won to my expenses for the day.

I met Kyun and my family at the immigration office waiting for me. We saw a sign directing us to another building to renounce my mom’s citizenship. We took a taxi there and waited our turn. They told us we were in the wrong place. We took a taxi to the right place. I have a mini heart attack when Kyun tells me it will take four months for my mom’s citizenship to officially be renounced, but 2 minutes later learn I’m still okay to apply for a visa now. I found out I had to pay a KRW 40,000 penalty since my mom was suppose to renounce her citizenship when she became American. Whatever. I pay the money and am glad to have renouncing done with. My family leaves and it’s just Kyun and I to go apply for my visa.

We eat lunch and head to the immigration office with high spirits. Nothing can stand between me and my F-4 visa. We take a number, wait maybe 30 minutes, and it’s done. I’ll get my visa next week. But wait, my visa expires next Monday. No, it’s ok, I’m good as long as I apply before the expiration date. Time to celebrate?

Yes.

Huzzah.

Now I owe some people dinners.