After I answered all her questions, she demanded that I come down to her office immediately with all my official documents and with copies of them. I hung the phone up and explained what had happened to a Mongolian friend who was at our home.
"Oh yes," she said, "Koreans, Chinese, and Americans have become the most prominent foreigners in Mongolian. Many of them are here past their visa's expiration date or have not obtained residency permission. So the government recently passed a law requiring all foreigners without the proper papers to leave the country immediately."
I pulled my passports out, hoped everything was in order, and went to make copies of everything: passport front page, visas, residency permission, etc.
When I arrived at the official's office, she was on the phone talking obviously to another foreigner. She was putting many questions to the other foreigner too although it seemed that the foreigner she was currently speaking with did not have all his things in order. Finally, she hung up the phone and turned her attention to me.
I handed her my passport which she looked at briefly.
"Where is your visa?" she demanded. I showed her my visa which is valid through 2010.
She fired off another question, "Where is your residency permission?" I showed her my residency permission.
Next, "where is your work permission?" I explained to her that my visa type did not require residency permission. We sparred briefly before she agreed that I did not need work permission. (I do not hold a wage paying, Mongolian job.)
Then she picked up my wife's passport. "Who is this?"
"My wife."
"Where does she work?"
I explained that she did not have a job either.
"What about the other four passports?" She spoke as if she were frustrated that all my documents were in order. I wondered briefly if she was going to pull out a bureaucratic hurdle for me to jump through.
"Those are our four children." Should I add, "They don't work either"?
"Fine," she said taking my copies and handing back my passports and refraining from assigning me any bureaucratic obstacles to overcome. And that is when I missed my fifteen minutes of fame. [CAUTION: THE REST OF THIS POST IS SATIRICAL]
You see, the quickest way for a missionary to become famous is to die on the mission field. But for those who are not ready to die, the next best way to become a famous missionary is to be kicked off the mission field. So that means that by allowing me to stay, the Mongolian bureaucrat caused me to miss my fifteen minutes of fame.
I pulled my passports out, hoped everything was in order, and went to make copies of everything: passport front page, visas, residency permission, etc.
When I arrived at the official's office, she was on the phone talking obviously to another foreigner. She was putting many questions to the other foreigner too although it seemed that the foreigner she was currently speaking with did not have all his things in order. Finally, she hung up the phone and turned her attention to me.
I handed her my passport which she looked at briefly.
"Where is your visa?" she demanded. I showed her my visa which is valid through 2010.
She fired off another question, "Where is your residency permission?" I showed her my residency permission.
Next, "where is your work permission?" I explained to her that my visa type did not require residency permission. We sparred briefly before she agreed that I did not need work permission. (I do not hold a wage paying, Mongolian job.)
Then she picked up my wife's passport. "Who is this?"
"My wife."
"Where does she work?"
I explained that she did not have a job either.
"What about the other four passports?" She spoke as if she were frustrated that all my documents were in order. I wondered briefly if she was going to pull out a bureaucratic hurdle for me to jump through.
"Those are our four children." Should I add, "They don't work either"?
"Fine," she said taking my copies and handing back my passports and refraining from assigning me any bureaucratic obstacles to overcome. And that is when I missed my fifteen minutes of fame. [CAUTION: THE REST OF THIS POST IS SATIRICAL]
You see, the quickest way for a missionary to become famous is to die on the mission field. But for those who are not ready to die, the next best way to become a famous missionary is to be kicked off the mission field. So that means that by allowing me to stay, the Mongolian bureaucrat caused me to miss my fifteen minutes of fame.


