Colombia's Migración mess

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

In September, Migración Colombia, the body responsible for granting extensions to temporary tourist passes, announced that the grace period for foreign visitors who found themselves stranded in the country was coming to an end.

Opening on Saturdays is a help, but is it enough? (Image from Facebook.)

Escape from limbo land

From the 21st of the month, days spent here would, in effect, start to be counted again, having been frozen when lockdown was introduced in March. 

For tourists, the deadline is 01 November to either apply for another 90-day permit or leave. 

If you're leaving within the time period, well that's straightforward enough. However, it gets trickier if you're looking for an extension as this requires an in-person meeting at a Migración office.

The initial communication from the government body stated that all appointments must be booked online. Those who turned up at Migración without one would be turned away. 

However, facing into a six-month backlog and reopening at only 30 per cent capacity, securing an appointment any time this year quickly became next to impossible for many. 

You see, it's not only tourists Migración deals with. All foreigners based here who aren't currently residents or citizens have to use its services at least once a year. 

Those who, during lockdown, were granted a visa or residency — a fully online process done with a different entity, La Cancillería — are expected to have these registered at Migración. This is one side of the same coin for the issuing of an ID card — cédula extranjería — corresponding to said visa/residency.

As far as I'm aware, this process must be begun on or before 21 October. (In old-normal times you had 15 days to register a newly-issued visa.)

'I've been told of incidents where people with such emergencies were refused entry to a Migración office because they didn't have an appointment reserved online. This is completely at odds with the official line.'

That deadline also applies to foreigners living here who had a visa/residency application deemed inadmissible or whose visas have expired or who find themselves in the country as an "irregular" for whatever reason. 

How I initially understood it was that those in such a position had only to register their intent to legalise their status, which in most instances means applying for an emergency stay called a salvoconducto. (Another option is to leave the country at the earliest possible opportunity — that usually means no more than 30 days after a visa expiry date.) 

If these people in limbo can't get an actual in-person appointment before 21 October because the system is overwhelmed, surely they can't be held responsible for that?

It now appears, however, Migración expects such cases to have reached a conclusion by the deadline. 

The latest advice on its website states that if your appointment is after the date your document expires or you simply can't get an appointment and yours is a case that needs urgent attention, you should go immediately to one of its offices, preferably, I'm guessing, the one closest to you. 

But for the grace of Duque?

That's the official line. As is often the case with such things, though, what's happening on the ground is different. I've been told of incidents where people in such dilemmas were refused entry because they didn't have an appointment reserved online. 

I'm also aware of a number of Bogotá-based foreigners being forced to travel to Migración offices in cities hundreds of kilometres away to resolve their situation before they became irregular. Great in these coronavirus times, isn't it?

One of these was somebody applying for residency. A day before his latest visa expired he received notification from La Cancillería that his application was deemed inadmissible — something that seems to be happening to a lot of folk requesting visas or residency these days.

Thus, faced with losing the continuity of five years of visas, the most crucial, time-consuming requirement for a residency bid, he had to hightail it from the capital to Neiva in order to seek a salvoconducto from the Migración office there, effectively buying time to sort out the issue with his original residency application. 

It worked out for him, he got what he needed. However, this is the exact type of case where I would have thought flexibility would be forthcoming from both La Cancillería and Migración. 

The applicant didn't want to test that, hence his last-minute dash south to Neiva. It must be said, the fact these processes involve two different government entities doesn't help.

The chief press officer at Migración did tell me in a WhatsApp message that they were being flexible. I've no reason to doubt that. I must also state that I've always found officials at that body reasonable and informative. 

Nonetheless, potential arbitrary flexibility and understanding aside, one immediate solution to all of this would be an extension to the grace period. We're still in the middle of this pandemic after all. Forcing people into unplanned travel in such times doesn't seem like best practice. 

So, President Duque, you have it in your power to tidy up this messy situation. Or are the conspiracy theorists on to something? Is Colombia systematically forcing foreigners out? Surely not. _______________________________________________________________
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Colombia's independent work visa: ¿Vale la pena?

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

Pathetic. When thinking of a one-word summary for it all, that's what comes to mind. No, I'm not referring to the content of this blog — it's not all bad, is it? And no, it's not my assessment of President Duque's administration, although I'm sure some of you would use that particular adjective.

Vis-à-visas: Wrong Way has faced nine Colombian visa applications.

Nein, nein, nein

What is pathetic is the fact that in the space of just seven years I've made nine — yes, nine — visa applications in Colombia. Surely, most other self-respecting individuals would have thrown away the ruana and sombrero vueltiao and said a firm 'adiós' well before this. It's not like I've been on to a winner here, rolling in a bed of pesos, living the high life.

In fact, it could be said this is one of the main reasons why I still stubbornly stay here. I'm able to make the few pesos I've managed to earn since 2012 last longer in this country compared to opting for a 'risky' return to Ireland, the homeland always being the default option. 

Basically, while I await that Universal Basic Income — it's on its way, isn't it? — I can get by on much less in these environs.

That and a feeling that in certain ways I've more independence here, left to my own devices so to put it. 

For sure, the one and only full-time, contracted job I took on from December 2018 to January 2020 put a temporary hold on 'being my own boss', relative as that has always been, but it also helped me build up some funds for the drought periods. And things have been pretty dry from an income perspective for months now. 

Therein lies the problem. The struggle to survive as an independent, a freelancer if you will, coupled with the difficulty of actually trying to stay in Colombia legally as such an 'actor' (no, I'm not referring to my under-appreciated thespian talent).

For me, from 2014 to 2018 getting an independent visa for Colombia was a relatively straightforward affair. These days, it's quite the opposite. In fact, it seems as if La Cancillería — the body in charge of these things — would prefer if no independents applied.

'Oh, we forgot to mention we need this.'

Well, it clearly doesn't mind picking up the study fee one has to pay seeing how on first inspection it makes it seem rather uncomplicated. 

It's only after submitting 'draft one' that you invariably — the many comments on Facebook groups vouch for this — get hit with a host of other requirements, a number of which can take some time to organise. 

Why not mention all these at the beginning so a potential applicant can weigh up all the pros and cons before paying for the study? 

To talk specifically, there is no mention in the initial application of uploading a copy of your Colombian-issued ID (cédula). Nor does it say you must provide proof of health insurance and other social security payments. (If you're a first-time applicant, I take it international health insurance will suffice but as for the other social security payments, I've no idea what's acceptable. Also, what if you're in Colombia but not currently in gainful employment?)

What's more, it explicitly says there is no need to issue a copy of your previous visa if it was issued electronically, as mine certainly was. Surprise, surprise, but in response to my latest application, I was asked for a copy of same. With that, unsurprisingly, the guys at La Cancillería are contradicting themselves.

'What rankles is the constant moving of the goalposts. Also, as it's an online process, it's very difficult to get specifics about the exact requirements for your own application. Replies are generic: 'This isn't acceptable', but there's no reason as to why.'

Here's another sign of regression for the once slick Cancillería system. In all previous applications where additional material was requested — mostly because of perceived document illegibility and/or my mugshot not meeting the specifications — I got an email informing me of this. This time around, nothing. I had to log on to the system to find this out. Whisper it, but it's almost like they didn't want me to know.

On the plus side, it seems that the translation, authentication and legalisation of my degree has been accepted. In May 2018, the last time I applied for an independent visa, this was the stumbling block. I ran out of time/salvoconductos (30-day emergency passes to stay in the country, two-in-a-row being the limit).

However, as far as I'm aware, the Cancillería doesn't provide information on all the steps that are needed for the above. Let me help. 

In the following order, here's what has to be done: 

Get apostilles on both your degree and diploma supplement from the country where you studied; get these translated and signed by an officially recognised translator in Colombia; authenticate the translator's signature at the notary office where he/she is registered; then get these translations legalised — an online process — by the Cancillería. (This is when journalism is your independent activity. For other professions you may have to get your degree validated at the Ministry of Education.)

Unrequited love

While all this may seem like a bitter rant against La Cancillería, I must state I have no issues whatsoever with Colombia tightening its requirements. Needless to say, the visa authority can request from applicants whatever documentation it deems necessary.

What does rankle is what seems like the constant moving of the goalposts with absolutely no prior notice. This and the fact that, as it's a fully online process, it's very difficult to get specifics about the exact requirements for your own application. Replies are generic: 'This isn't acceptable', but there's no reason as to why. Little wonder one loses confidence when it all appears rather arbitrary.

In some ways — again, one can say it's only right — things have gone from one extreme to another. While I never got the benefit of La Cancillería's previous lax approach, I know of a number of foreigners who blatantly stayed in the territory illegally for years and then sweet talked their way to a visa and even residency. Can you imagine Colombians getting the same treatment in Europe or the US? They'd be fined, sent packing and barred from returning for life.

There's also the odd sycophantic influencer who is given citizenship for effectively selling Colombia to the Colombians. A perfect representation of the national insecurity and the-US-knows-best mentality.

Then there are others who try to do things by the book, have given La Cancillería plenty of money over the years through numerous applications and shown their commitment to the country, yet they face new obstacles at every turn.

It brings to mind an Irish phrase from my secondary school days that has stayed with me: Grá éagmhaise, unrequited love. Yes, I truly am the pathetic one in this one-way relationship with Colombian officialdom.

Sad as it is, but perhaps I need La Cancillería to give me the knock-out blow. It might just be doing me a favour.
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Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

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