Arne and His Philippine Embassy Saga
“You need to log in, sir,” the girl at the counter at the Philippine Embassy in Vienna told Arne when he said he was there to pick up 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 bulletproof 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 staff handling his business. He was irritated, and he did not hide it. Sitting not far from behind the clerk at the counter, Joyce jolted to her feet and said it was all right; 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 handling his concern could have made it easier for Arne by providing him with 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: Arne had to do what the Embassy does. He had no other choice. Three working days later, his document was completed, and Arne was asked to proofread it in case there were any mistakes. 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 supposed to sign it was gone for the day, and no one else could, said the Embassy clerk, but quickly remembered that another consul was still around and could do it. Arne was unhappy because he knew it might take another 30 minutes to correct and sign it. He had other things in mind —much more important things to do that day. Running berserk could be one of them. These unnecessary obstacles were frustrating and time-consuming, to say the least.
“Look, other people are 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. The lack of consideration for Arne’s time was evident, and it was infuriating.
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 that everyone who works there is required to multitask? This can cause many problems. I’m just thinking out loud! The systemic issues at the Embassy were concerning, to say the least.