Just Go With the Flow...

Although Bangkok is incredibly westerner friendly with many signs written in English & almost everyone having some sort of basic grasp of spoken English (or at least a willingness to interpret vivid gesticulations without taking offense), I still find myself at times not being entirely sure of what is happening. This includes scenarios where I have been told to wait somewhere but I’m not exactly sure what I’m waiting for and being asked to sign my name on a document which is written entirely in Thai.

I am no stranger to not questioning uncertain scenarios. On our reconnaissance visit to Bangkok in August, I was perfectly happy to get into several different cars with complete strangers & then enter properties with them in a country I’d never been to before. This is all worked out fine & life is far less stressful when you overlook the ambiguities.

The Medical

To get a work permit in Thailand, it is necessary to obtain a medical certificate which I think declares that you’re fit enough to work. My brother had to do something similar in the US (yes, we’re both UK deserters) although by the sounds of it, that was more focused on establishing that he wasn’t on drugs – he isn’t.

So, on a fine Thursday morning, I trundled along to Bumrungrad International Hospital. I’d been instructed by the HR team at my future employer to visit the 10^th floor for registration, and then to go to the 11^th floor for my physical check. Chris had gone through the exact same process two weeks earlier but had never been that keen on sharing information, I hadn’t been able to glean much more detail than that he’d been to the same hospital, so I didn’t really know what to expect.

The hospital itself was a large, immaculate facility. There were so many nice, lounge style waiting areas it looked like a pleasant place to hang out. I’m not sure what my expectations of medical facilities in Bangkok were, but my experiences so far have been very positive. This hospital is apparently rated in the top ten of hospitals in the world.

Self-Service?

One observation I’ve made in Bangkok is that there always appear to be a few more people than necessary to do a job, or people are assigned tasks that don’t really need doing. This is evident in most shops where staff often outnumber customers. I was in a pet shop the other day & three people were involved in my purchase of dog food; one to carry it to the till, one to put it in a bag & one to take my money. Having worked in Retail in the UK where colleague hours are controlled so tightly, it seems bizarre to have so many people around.

This hospital was no different. As I exited the lift on the 10^th floor, I headed towards a self-service ticket machine to get my queuing ticket when a lady intervened, took my ticket & led me to the first of many comfy seats that I was told to sit on & wait. She then handed me a form to fill in which I merrily began to complete. I had barely written my name when my number was called, and the lady ushered me towards a desk. For the first time of many that day, I handed over my passport. The lady at the desk confirmed a few details, asked my blood type & asked if I had a cough or a runny nose which I did not (well just the standard minor congestion from the combination of air conditioning and Bangkok pollution). I was then dispatched to the 11^th floor with a neat pack of paperwork.

On the 11^th floor, there was a man at the lifts who again operated the self-service ticket machine for me & directed me to a seat in the waiting area. I’m not sure if I was on some sort of fast-track work permit service but within seconds of sitting down my number was called & I went to another desk. I handed over my paperwork & my passport & was given another form to fill in. This form appeared to be asking for a lot of the same information I’d already provided but who am I to question the process? I diligently got to work on the form & then took it back to the desk. I signed my name a few times although the documents were in English, so I could see that I was just declaring the information to be correct. I was then led to the next waiting area & again told to take a seat.

Production Line

The story starts to get a bit repetitive at this point but the brief order of events was as follows: called to desk to pay for medical, handed more paperwork & sent to next waiting room, paperwork taken upon arrival & told to take a seat, called to see nurse to check height, weight, waist size, blood pressure, temperature & eyes, handed more paperwork & sent to another waiting room, paperwork taken & told to sit down, called in to see the doctor for actual physical check – nothing too intrusive but I nearly died laughing when she checked my reflexes, sent back to waiting room, called to desk to sign form & be issued with medical certificate. And that was it!

To simply acquire my medical certificate, I interacted with no fewer than 11 people! I sat in 5 different waiting areas, wrote my name, address, phone number & showed my passport at least 4 times, all before 10 am.

The next part of my day didn’t really deviate from this theme. With my medical certificate safely stowed away in my bag with various other important documents, I headed towards the HR department of my future employer, to go through some checks for my work permit. Google was suggesting that the best method of getting there was to initially take some sort of boat along a khlong (canal) & then hop on the MRT (metro). Apparently, these boats are even worse than motorbike taxis for feeling like you might die, and having stared down at the khlong with its disturbingly brown water, I decided it was a nice enough day for a walk.

Signing My Life Away

At the HR offices, I was ushered to meet various people who I wasn’t entirely certain of who they were. Fortunately, everyone has ID cards, so I discreetly stole glances at these cards when people weren’t looking & tried desperately to commit their names to memory.

I’d foolishly believed that we would be going through a relatively straightforward check of my documents & I’d be out of there in no time. I’d actually been ambushed into completing & signing what seemed like a million forms, most of which were entirely in Thai. Chris had warned me that he was finding he had to sign his name a lot & that I might want to consider a more simplified signature. Repeatedly signing my name didn’t bother me, it was more the inability to read anything I was signing. Everything was explained to me, but I’ll just have to trust that I haven’t inadvertently agreed to donate a kidney.

Photoshop

The world of visas & work permits involves a lot of photos. I’d already handed over four passport-sized photos to the Thai Embassy in London for my initial (but now defunct) visa and then the correct visa. I needed to provide another six for my work permit & visa extension. Although the UK passport office might appear to be strict in terms of the rules for passport photos, this is nothing compared to Thailand. They are incredibly specific in terms of the size, what you’re wearing and your physical appearance.

For the visa, I knew I needed 4x6cm photos, so I’d already made my way to a photoshop to get these done. In the UK, you just must make do with the best that a photo booth can produce, but not in Thailand, that just won’t do. I will admit that I probably wasn’t looking my best on that day. My skin was suffering from a week of Food Panda (the equivalent of Deliveroo), I’d got the frizz management of my hair all wrong & I’d struggled to find the photoshop so was in a mood by the time I got there. When the girl at the shop said it would take 40 minutes to develop the photos, I thought it was odd but as always, I went along with it. When I returned the results were simply hilarious – they had photo-shopped the frizz from my hair to the point where it looked like it had been drawn on! Not really knowing whether this was acceptable and generally amused by my appearance, I took the photos and left.

I’d thought I’d get away with some UK passport sized photos for my work permit – they were pretty much the same size but no, my face was apparently ‘too big’ – I love how direct Thais can be! So, I was marched off to yet another photo shop but this time with two of the HR ladies guiding me. For the work permit photo, you apparently need to be wearing a collar – I guess it’s to make you look professional? I wasn’t dressed in my scruffs, but I didn’t have a collar on. What were we going to do? Maybe I could buy something to wear? Not to worry, they will just photo-shop a collar onto my photo – of course!

Left to Right: Normal UK Passport Photo from a booth, 4x6cm visa photo with photo-shopped hair, 3x4cm work permit photo with superimposed clothes!

Who knows what will happen when we go to apply for the work permit but fortunately my company has someone dedicated to sorting this all out, including reporting my address to immigration every 90 days. I would hate to be doing this without that kind of support – it seems like a minefield! What I do know though is that this isn’t the end of this process, far from it.