“You need to log in, sir,” the girl at the counter in the Philippine Embassy in Vienna told Arne when he said he was there to get his Special Power of Attorney, which he submitted Thursday last week. Arne was my mega-organized friend who, two weeks ago, went to the Embassy to have his Special Power of Attorney signed by an officer. Apparently, he did not get it because he did not follow the proper procedure for obtaining one. Not his fault, though. It was the Embassy’s, I am not kidding! Remember my anecdote on Arne’s day and how the Embassy ruined it? Those who cared to read the story would remember. Those who snubbed it, manigas na lang!

“I don’t need to. I’m just here to get my SPA, which was for pickup today,” Arne said to the girl sitting behind the counter, shielded by what could be a bullet-proof glass partition.

“But you still have to log in,” gesturing to Arne where the logbook was.
“No, I am not logging in,” Arne said, annoyed, his voice a tad higher than usual, which was always calm until provoked, like at that very moment.
“Where is Joyce?” (not her real name, my fantasy working here). Arne was referring to the Embassy personnel taking care of his business. He was irritated, and he did not hide it a bit. Sitting not far from behind the clerk at the counter, Joyce jolted to her feet and said it was alright; Arne did not have to log in; it was her fault, after all.

I can understand Arne’s frustration. Ok, I changed my mind. Let me recap the story for those who suffer from selective amnesia, meinetwegen! Arne was seeking to have his SPA signed by the Embassy. Still, he did not get it because the Embassy now has different procedures for non-Filipino citizens. Arne did not know this. The Embassy personnel attending to his concern could have made it easier for Arne by giving him the proper information. Arne was there a few days earlier for a different business issue. He mentioned that he would return later to have his SPA duly authenticated by the Embassy. By then, the Embassy was already aware of Arne’s Austrian citizenship!

Na, eben (precisely), as the Austrians would say it: Arne had to do what the Embassy does. He had no other choice. Three working days later, his document was done, and Arne was asked to proofread it lest there was any mistake. The mistake was his name. Wrong spelling! What to do now? Correct it, of course, but there was another problem. The Embassy officer who was signing it was gone for the day and no one else could sign it, said the Embassy clerk, but quickly remembered that another consul was still around and could do it. Arne was unhappy because he knew it may take another 30 minutes to correct and sign it. He had other things in mind much more important to do that day. Running berserk could be one of them.

“Look, there are other people waiting in line. Attend to their business, and I’ll return next week.” He was doing the Embassy a favor. Arne had worked there before, and he knew how ugly it could get when people got frustrated and waited to get things done.

And now this—the never-ending logging in and waiting for Arne had to go through: Wasting time just because some people are sloppy, inaccurate, and careless in their work. Could it be that the Embassy in Vienna is understaffed, and multi-tasking is required of everyone who works there? This can cause a lot of problems. I’m just thinking out loud!

October 23, 2016