Thai Immigration

Chiang Mai, Thailand

I don't know why I was expecting a proper office. I've been in Thailand long enough to know better. I just figured that the main Immigration office next to the airport would be in, like, an office.

The Immigration office, no, hut, no, shack, yes, that's the word, shack, held about a dozen Royal Thai police, mostly men but a few women. The Royal Thai Police are the national police, akin to the F.B.I. Provincial police handle traffic accidents and day-to-day crime. The Thai Royal Police handle issues like narcotics and financial crime. In the area of immigration, their remit is to review applications for visa extensions and generally remind you who's boss.

One side of the shack has a series of windows. You stand in one line to get the visa extension form. Then you sit at some tables and fill it out. Then you get into another line to hand in the form. Then you wait for the police's decision.

All of this occurs outside. The inside of the Immigration shack is off limits, so the lines, waiting room and tables are all outside on a makeshift patio. There's a wooden roof over the patio to provide shade and keep out the rain, neither of which it does well.

I filled out the form, which asked why I needed a visa extension. A corkboard on one side of the patio listed the officially recognized reasons: retirement, Thai relatives, business owner, medical reasons. There was no category for "I just wanna stay" or "I've become used to doing fuck all and gorging myself on $50 a day." I wrote "additional tourism."

The form requested a picture, which is normal. The picture had to be 2 centimeters by 4 centimeters, which is not normal. Many visa applications the world over request a picture which is a standardized 2 inches by 2 inches, also known as "passport-sized."

Luckily, there was a photo service right next door. No points for guessing that it's owned by a relative of the police official who drafted the form.

A man travelling on a Saudi Arabian passport, dressed in Western pants and a light green golf shirt, was also having his picture taken. He was explaining the visa extension form to his wife, speaking in perfect British-accented English. She was wearing an all-covering black niqab, or veil. The man and I exchanged pleasantries as we waited for our photos.

After paying for the pictures ($2.50), I handed everything in and waited about twenty minutes in the coffee shop that was attached to the patio. No points for guessing who owns the coffee shop, either.

"Lu-ka Pau Kah," announced a policewoman. She wordlessly handed over my passport. I noted that the police gave me a full 30-day extension, and I gave the policewoman a thankful wai, a Thai gesture of respect which combines a bow with a prayerful meeting of the hands near the chin.

"Congratulations," said the Saudi man as I left.

"Good luck," I told him and his wife.