Tales from the dark side

NO MATTER HOW MUCH TOURISM Secretary Richard Gordon trumpets the Philippines as a tourist destination, nothing beats the horror that everyone goes through the moment they set foot on Philippine soil.

I was in the Philippines from April 19 to May 2 for a short break and to visit relatives and friends. The Northwest Airlines flight that I came with planed in without any hitches and the arrival was on the dot. The horror story began at the immigration when only around eight persons manned the desks. To make matters worse, two fully packed jumbo jets, including mine, had just arrived, each one carrying around 500 or so passengers.

If only our immigration officials had enough brains, then they should have had the foresight of putting enough manpower to handle such deluge of passengers. Because of this fiasco, people had to queue for an average of 1 hour and 40 minutes just to finish immigration formalities. This was how long I stood up on line, and I was in the middle.

As the virtual death march went on, a few older women started to faint for having stood so long, children and babies began crying as their mothers cursed, and tourists were overheard regretting their decision of coming to the Philippines. If it took me almost two hours to reach the immigration desk, then those behind me would have taken more than three. Imagine if you were a foreign tourist on your first visit and you had to go through such ordeal.

Luckily, the bulk of the passengers were Filipinos on vacation, as both Northwest planes came from the US while passing through Narita and Nagoya. Nonetheless, the experience would surely determine the frequency of their visits. Except if you really need to come home, there’s no point in vacationing in the Philippines if alternative destinations offer more efficient immigration procedures. Having gone through that, I would rather visit Malaysia or Thailand on my next break.

Why our government would allow such thing to happen really escapes me. If this happens everyday, and I assume that it does, then just imagine how many thousands of visitors are turned off just moments after they land. Certainly, when they return home and tell friends about their vacation, their ordeal at the Ninoy Aquino International Airport would be on top of the list. No matter how much the Philippine government spends on selling the Philippines as a tourist attraction with all its WOW hype, all these crumbles at the immigration desk. Honestly, I wouldn’t tell my foreign friends to visit the Philippines if I want to keep them as friends.

To boot, the stark contrast emerged when I returned to Narita. It took me a whopping total of just 5 minutes to get past immigration. Imagine taking almost two hours to get through immigration in your own country and five minutes in Japan. Obviously, there is something wrong somewhere.

My experience at the Land Transportation Office (LTO) in Bacolod City where I renewed my driver’s license was equally frustrating. To describe the process as anarchy is an understatement. First, while there were seats where people can wait for their names to be called, everyone milled in front of the windows practically blocking everyone who would like to transact business.

If you are lucky enough to get through, the next step is taking a so-called “drug test” where your urine is tested for banned substances. I am not certain about the accuracy of this, however. Those who are taking drugs can use other people’s urine, and a friend once told me that even before he gave his sample, his results were already printed out. Basically a money-making scheme, this test costs PhP 300 per head.

If the joke wasn’t on me, the medical checkup that followed the drug test was utterly hilarious. An insider informed me that it is a real doctor who issues the medical certificate, but when I went into his room, which looked like a classroom with desks and all, he just took my papers, uttered a few words, and perfunctorily signed them. I don’t think he even looked at me. There were two young ladies with him who received the PhP 50 fee. My source told me that they were his daughters. Do the math and just imagine how much this person rakes in per day given the hundreds who apply for or renew their licenses.

Finally, I got back at the LTO where I submitted these documents. After a short while, my name was called and I went to the cashier. I was asked to pay PhP 310, but very surprisingly, when I got my receipt, the amount reflected was just PhP 280. Given the endemic corruption in Philippine bureaucracy, where the remaining PhP 30 went is not a mystery.

I thought my ordeal would soon end since the next step would be the picture-taking and then release of the plastic-laminated license. But as would often happen in Bacolod City, the power lines busted near the LTO and the computers were offline. The lady in Window 5, who never smiled and looked as if she was dying of boredom, asked me to return the following week.

Since I was leaving in 4 days, I asked if it’s possible for me to return the next day just to check. She said yes and so I returned for two days each morning but the computers remained offline. Finally, I asked the obese guy sitting in Window 4 if it’s possible for me to have my photo taken nonetheless since they’re using a digital camera anyway and the image could be saved. There was also a Polaroid camera available. He said no, and with a friendly smile, he asked me to return in 3 weeks when the power lines will be restored. Geez! I had no choice but to return to Japan with only a receipt.

These tales say only one thing. That despite calls for reform in Philippine bureaucracy, the country remains mired in inefficiency and corruption. It is a wonder why we can’t be as efficient and as honest as other nationalities. It is no wonder why almost everyone that I met back home would rather pack up and go. *

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You may email the author at butch@philippinestoday.net