Today I had to do one of my least favourite tasks of all out here, go to the police station. It was time to renew my visa, AGAIN. I have been here two and a half years and this will be my 8th visa. Every time I had to get a new one I had to go to the police station twice and face the music. I am proud to report that I have only cried on two of those occasions and today was not one of them. One of those two times was when my visa was nine days over due and I had been illegally living in the country.
I am thinking about having T-shirts made up that say “I survived the Police station”. I can wear it whenever I have to get my visa renewed. Thankfully right down the road there is a KFC where I always drown my stress in a cup of coffee. The new visa I applied for today is only a one month visa, so I can already look forward to my next set of visits. But thankfully none of these trips to the Police office have ever lead to this:
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