The long line out
The wait was not really long. It was even relaxing, or so I thought. I have resigned from work and I had all the time to invest with the kids before I leave, just waiting for the days to go by, patiently and get to Chiang Mai for my new job. Passport, check. Visa, in process. Flight, booked and paid for… until the travel agency asked me if I had an OEC. Huh? Overseas Employment Certificate. What? Where? I asked around and lo and behold, one cannot get away without an OEC if one is going to work abroad, lest one wants to get held up at the immigration shamefully.
And so shit started.
To get this certificate, you have to spend a minimum three days at the Philippine Oversease Employment Administration (POEA), waste your time to fall in line from one window to another, bearing heat, sweat dripping on your back like rain and the smell of other people’s sweat. The first day you go to the second floor, window 6 for professional/skilled workers and get assed or rather assessed whether you have all the documents. The first time I went, I just wanted to know if it was possible for the OEC process to start while waiting for my visa. But the minute they learned I still didn’t have a visa, they tuned out totally. The girl went deaf and I went dumb.
While waiting for the visa and trying not to get so dramatic with POEA, I got wise. I went ahead and got a medical certificate which will make you pay P1,200 for giving them your blood, and shit (stool sample), pee, getting touched for a breast exam, showing them your butt and your teeth, checking your eyes and taking a picture of your chest from the inside. Then of course there was the psychological exam which asks you to write down the first thing that comes to your mind as you complete sentences in four pages.
After the visa, I went back and got assed, assessed again. They could’ve told me I would need to ask my employer to sign an addendum of the contract for my well-being the first time I went, when they turned deaf. That first day, I wanted to show them all the other documents I had (except for the visa), had they been with hearing aids. So I faxed to Thailand and ask our Regional Coordinator to sign the addendum about the organization shouldering the expenses in case I die and my body had to be brought back to the Philippines.
Then we were scheduled for a pre departure orientation seminar (PDOS) the next day, which was good for me because for some countries, they had to wait for the next scheduled PDOS which could be a week later. I couldn’t afford that. My flight was booked for Saturday. It was already Wednesday. At home, I noticed my feet had blisters.
Thursday. Got up early again now prepared wearing just slippers, and came into a room-full of people and it wasn’t even 8am. Some were already there at 630am which shamed me. We were all called “name-hire” or “direct-hire” meaning we did not go through a recruitment agency to get hired. Meaning that it was on our own efforts, CVs, our own tiresome search, talent and experience that landed us the job. Now we have to go through a process for the government to make money out of our efforts.
There were all sorts of people there: first time to go abroad, those they call “ex-abroad” or those who have already been abroad and are now going out again. This room had airconditioning – praise Gaya! And free flowing coffee. About 100+ Filipinos were there, coming from all walks of life. We were all going to work for factories, households, companies, hotels, and I met one who was just planning to freelance in Brunei. There were musicians also whom I think was just going out of the country for a gig. Kigao told me artists usually have a special pass as they are considered cultural workers. Even for NGO workers I thought. Before, maybe. But we lost that when the government decided to squeeze money out of the OFWs regardless of what you will do outside the country, actually making money out of us before we leave and of course, after, with remittances.
We all had to endure a half-day, will not make you feel good about leaving video telling you how horrendous loneliness is. I am still not feeling that because I just arrived here and have been busy looking for a place and all. But I feel I am over that now. I did cry a bucket when the move was to Manila- my hometown, imagine that. But I digress. Maybe it’s the stress of last week. And I am actually treating this as a sort of long field work.
Going back. After the PDOS, you fall in line at window 9. Nobody tells you what to do except the good, compassionate and sympathetic fellow applicants. You have to stick your slip of paper which was stapled at the front of the folder given to you with all your papers, and wait to be called. I squatted for about an hour in front of the non functioning elevator and eavesdropped on people’s conversation and joined sometimes. A camaraderie was forming. The foundation of which was the shit we had to go through at POEA. It was embarrassing for us. Some employers actually thought something is very wrong or we are not very truthful especially with all the process we had to go through. It was taking everyone longer than just the time for visa application.
Remember to take this time of waiting to get all the photocopies done, should they ask for anything else. I promise, when you get back to the squatting position, you still have to wait a while to be called. When they do call your name, the girl behind the window, who had airconditioning in their side of the office, cranky and never smiling or making you feel good about giving them money and paying for their salaries, tells you to “FALL IN ONE STRAIGHT LINE!” then your documents will be assessed again. I was told I had too many papers! Argh! I wasn't the one who wanted multiple copies!!! Grrrr.
Then she actually asked me why the signatures in the different photocopies were different. Duh!!! I don’t know!!! It’s from a photo copier! Could it be any different except when it gets lighter or darker?!! How the hell can it be different?!!! So she mumbled about how she was not the one that will be questioned anyway and started stapling things. I thought, precisely. If ever, I will be questioned, not you, so just get on with it already.
While she was bitching, she pricked her finger on a staple wire – not my doing, they were the ones who did the stapling. I just had to carry the folder around and do as told. She got a couple of degrees nice, well, not really nice but less bitchy. My thoughts were evil: that’s what you get for bitching at the sweaty, suffering people who will leave the country because the government you’re working for cannot provide decent-paying jobs. But I realized how we were all victims of the same system and she’s probably underpaid herself, hence the bitchiness, so I just asked her if the prick was deep. I was actually sorry for her.
But being sorry did not shorten the process I had to go through. After getting over her “prick”-ing, she gave me a one page application shit – sheet. Why could they not have given the form while we were wasting our time, sitting or standing around all day waiting for our name to be called?!! After filling out the form, you give it to them and wait again for your name to be called. This took about 30-45 mins (I lost track of time) or until they realize it’s almost 5pm. So they give you your folder and get assed again and you’re told to pay. Finally!!!
I and my other PDOS classmates ran to the cashier. Arriving at a line we were informed that the cashier has closed. But my folder was checked and the girl wrote the number 10 on top. We tried to stick around, but were told to go home. Braving the commute to home, I decided I needed a cigarette. I looked at my watch and it wasn’t even 5pm! I ran back to the cashier’s only to have the glass shut on us.
Friday. Day before my flight. I wasn’t really in a hurry. I was number 10. They said the cashier opens at 8am. I didn’t have to fall in line, just wait for our number to be called. I saw my PDOS classmates again about half past 8am. We hung around in front of the closed glass window of the cashier. 9:30. 10:00am. The glass hasn’t opened.
We didn’t like the look on the guy behind the glass frowning worriedly at the computer monitor. It was busted!!!! I couldn’t resist. I still had tons of things to do. They’ve been wasting my time since I set foot in their office from the first day. I knocked on the window and opened it slightly, asked what can be done. I tried suggesting to pay at another window especially if their computers are connected to a network. But no, they were the only ones authorized to accept money from us. I retorted: “so what do we do now? What if that thing is busted the whole day? Do we wait? We’ve been waiting for three days to get this thing done.” Then he asked “are you in a hurry? You could go to the fifth floor and pay there.” Aaarrrggghhhh!!!
But it’s not over. At the fifth floor, we were told that we haven’t been assessed. We have been assed since day 1!!! The guy at the 5th floor looked for a number, which was supposed to be assigned to you when you are assessed and only then can you pay, as it has then been registered in their system. Flying back to the first floor, I cut in line, like my other PDOS classmates did, risking the angry looks from the people in the long line. We told the guy behind the glass our sad story. He saw us there since he opened the broken computer. We probably looked so harassed, we were prioritized. It was fast. See? They can move fast if they wanted.
So we went up again to the 5th floor and fell in line at the cashier. We were told to pay in exact amount because they do not have change. Go get your money changed before paying!!! The canteen is at the first floor. Good thing I had change. My other PDOS classmates were not that lucky.
After that, is the Philhealth. Fill out another form. Then you’re told to get your ID. What the heck, I thought, at least that ID is valid. Fall in line again. Ops, wait, photocopy some stuff, then fall in line. Get your picture taken, signature and wala! The ID.
Then you’re told to have your ID/card activated at Equitable bank right beside it. I thought, why the hell would I need equitable when I already have two bank accounts and I am sure there is no equitable where I am going?!!! The guy at the bank announced it is like opening a bank account, and you can use the ID as a debit card but it doesn’t have to be activated for you to be able to leave. You can leave the country even without activating it. I breathed…then ran to the bus and went straight to the travel agency that booked my flight and picked up my ticket. With that I was ready with all the papers.
Suggestions to POEA:
1. don’t bitch to the applicants. You’re not the only ones suffering with lots of things to do. Remember if not for these applicants leaving the Philippines your agency would not have existed, ergo you will not have your jobs that’s making you crappy.
2. i don't mind paying for services, but good services. You ask the OFWs to pay Php6,800 (for direct hires) you should equal that service. No aircon? It’s fine to wait in line but can you at least make our lives a bit bearable? A computer system that bogs down?!!! For each 6,800 you get from everyone, and counting those at the PDOS, we were like more than a hundred, you should be able to improve the system and the service. Don’t say you are understaffed. There are so many process to go through that is unnecessary. Review your flow chart. I can come up with a better system than falling in line and get assed forever.
3. treat your employees well so they do not bitch on the job. Pay them properly. And get rid of nuances and unnecessary steps and processes.
4. it’s not easy for us to decide to leave the country. Had there been better offers to most of the people there at the POEA I am sure they’d rather not leave so please, don’t bitch around. It’s hard enough as it is for us emotionally, and then physically, to do it in your crappy office.
This is not to say that I do not appreciate the reason why the agency exists. A lot of migrant workers are open to exploitation and abuse, and the POEA provides us with more security and safety measures along with the much needed support in being a migrant worker. And I understand how working in an agency that have so many applicantions to process can be very stressful. Guess I just wish the system would get better. For everybody's sake.
And so shit started.
To get this certificate, you have to spend a minimum three days at the Philippine Oversease Employment Administration (POEA), waste your time to fall in line from one window to another, bearing heat, sweat dripping on your back like rain and the smell of other people’s sweat. The first day you go to the second floor, window 6 for professional/skilled workers and get assed or rather assessed whether you have all the documents. The first time I went, I just wanted to know if it was possible for the OEC process to start while waiting for my visa. But the minute they learned I still didn’t have a visa, they tuned out totally. The girl went deaf and I went dumb.
While waiting for the visa and trying not to get so dramatic with POEA, I got wise. I went ahead and got a medical certificate which will make you pay P1,200 for giving them your blood, and shit (stool sample), pee, getting touched for a breast exam, showing them your butt and your teeth, checking your eyes and taking a picture of your chest from the inside. Then of course there was the psychological exam which asks you to write down the first thing that comes to your mind as you complete sentences in four pages.
After the visa, I went back and got assed, assessed again. They could’ve told me I would need to ask my employer to sign an addendum of the contract for my well-being the first time I went, when they turned deaf. That first day, I wanted to show them all the other documents I had (except for the visa), had they been with hearing aids. So I faxed to Thailand and ask our Regional Coordinator to sign the addendum about the organization shouldering the expenses in case I die and my body had to be brought back to the Philippines.
Then we were scheduled for a pre departure orientation seminar (PDOS) the next day, which was good for me because for some countries, they had to wait for the next scheduled PDOS which could be a week later. I couldn’t afford that. My flight was booked for Saturday. It was already Wednesday. At home, I noticed my feet had blisters.
Thursday. Got up early again now prepared wearing just slippers, and came into a room-full of people and it wasn’t even 8am. Some were already there at 630am which shamed me. We were all called “name-hire” or “direct-hire” meaning we did not go through a recruitment agency to get hired. Meaning that it was on our own efforts, CVs, our own tiresome search, talent and experience that landed us the job. Now we have to go through a process for the government to make money out of our efforts.
There were all sorts of people there: first time to go abroad, those they call “ex-abroad” or those who have already been abroad and are now going out again. This room had airconditioning – praise Gaya! And free flowing coffee. About 100+ Filipinos were there, coming from all walks of life. We were all going to work for factories, households, companies, hotels, and I met one who was just planning to freelance in Brunei. There were musicians also whom I think was just going out of the country for a gig. Kigao told me artists usually have a special pass as they are considered cultural workers. Even for NGO workers I thought. Before, maybe. But we lost that when the government decided to squeeze money out of the OFWs regardless of what you will do outside the country, actually making money out of us before we leave and of course, after, with remittances.
We all had to endure a half-day, will not make you feel good about leaving video telling you how horrendous loneliness is. I am still not feeling that because I just arrived here and have been busy looking for a place and all. But I feel I am over that now. I did cry a bucket when the move was to Manila- my hometown, imagine that. But I digress. Maybe it’s the stress of last week. And I am actually treating this as a sort of long field work.
Going back. After the PDOS, you fall in line at window 9. Nobody tells you what to do except the good, compassionate and sympathetic fellow applicants. You have to stick your slip of paper which was stapled at the front of the folder given to you with all your papers, and wait to be called. I squatted for about an hour in front of the non functioning elevator and eavesdropped on people’s conversation and joined sometimes. A camaraderie was forming. The foundation of which was the shit we had to go through at POEA. It was embarrassing for us. Some employers actually thought something is very wrong or we are not very truthful especially with all the process we had to go through. It was taking everyone longer than just the time for visa application.
Remember to take this time of waiting to get all the photocopies done, should they ask for anything else. I promise, when you get back to the squatting position, you still have to wait a while to be called. When they do call your name, the girl behind the window, who had airconditioning in their side of the office, cranky and never smiling or making you feel good about giving them money and paying for their salaries, tells you to “FALL IN ONE STRAIGHT LINE!” then your documents will be assessed again. I was told I had too many papers! Argh! I wasn't the one who wanted multiple copies!!! Grrrr.
Then she actually asked me why the signatures in the different photocopies were different. Duh!!! I don’t know!!! It’s from a photo copier! Could it be any different except when it gets lighter or darker?!! How the hell can it be different?!!! So she mumbled about how she was not the one that will be questioned anyway and started stapling things. I thought, precisely. If ever, I will be questioned, not you, so just get on with it already.
While she was bitching, she pricked her finger on a staple wire – not my doing, they were the ones who did the stapling. I just had to carry the folder around and do as told. She got a couple of degrees nice, well, not really nice but less bitchy. My thoughts were evil: that’s what you get for bitching at the sweaty, suffering people who will leave the country because the government you’re working for cannot provide decent-paying jobs. But I realized how we were all victims of the same system and she’s probably underpaid herself, hence the bitchiness, so I just asked her if the prick was deep. I was actually sorry for her.
But being sorry did not shorten the process I had to go through. After getting over her “prick”-ing, she gave me a one page application shit – sheet. Why could they not have given the form while we were wasting our time, sitting or standing around all day waiting for our name to be called?!! After filling out the form, you give it to them and wait again for your name to be called. This took about 30-45 mins (I lost track of time) or until they realize it’s almost 5pm. So they give you your folder and get assed again and you’re told to pay. Finally!!!
I and my other PDOS classmates ran to the cashier. Arriving at a line we were informed that the cashier has closed. But my folder was checked and the girl wrote the number 10 on top. We tried to stick around, but were told to go home. Braving the commute to home, I decided I needed a cigarette. I looked at my watch and it wasn’t even 5pm! I ran back to the cashier’s only to have the glass shut on us.
Friday. Day before my flight. I wasn’t really in a hurry. I was number 10. They said the cashier opens at 8am. I didn’t have to fall in line, just wait for our number to be called. I saw my PDOS classmates again about half past 8am. We hung around in front of the closed glass window of the cashier. 9:30. 10:00am. The glass hasn’t opened.
We didn’t like the look on the guy behind the glass frowning worriedly at the computer monitor. It was busted!!!! I couldn’t resist. I still had tons of things to do. They’ve been wasting my time since I set foot in their office from the first day. I knocked on the window and opened it slightly, asked what can be done. I tried suggesting to pay at another window especially if their computers are connected to a network. But no, they were the only ones authorized to accept money from us. I retorted: “so what do we do now? What if that thing is busted the whole day? Do we wait? We’ve been waiting for three days to get this thing done.” Then he asked “are you in a hurry? You could go to the fifth floor and pay there.” Aaarrrggghhhh!!!
But it’s not over. At the fifth floor, we were told that we haven’t been assessed. We have been assed since day 1!!! The guy at the 5th floor looked for a number, which was supposed to be assigned to you when you are assessed and only then can you pay, as it has then been registered in their system. Flying back to the first floor, I cut in line, like my other PDOS classmates did, risking the angry looks from the people in the long line. We told the guy behind the glass our sad story. He saw us there since he opened the broken computer. We probably looked so harassed, we were prioritized. It was fast. See? They can move fast if they wanted.
So we went up again to the 5th floor and fell in line at the cashier. We were told to pay in exact amount because they do not have change. Go get your money changed before paying!!! The canteen is at the first floor. Good thing I had change. My other PDOS classmates were not that lucky.
After that, is the Philhealth. Fill out another form. Then you’re told to get your ID. What the heck, I thought, at least that ID is valid. Fall in line again. Ops, wait, photocopy some stuff, then fall in line. Get your picture taken, signature and wala! The ID.
Then you’re told to have your ID/card activated at Equitable bank right beside it. I thought, why the hell would I need equitable when I already have two bank accounts and I am sure there is no equitable where I am going?!!! The guy at the bank announced it is like opening a bank account, and you can use the ID as a debit card but it doesn’t have to be activated for you to be able to leave. You can leave the country even without activating it. I breathed…then ran to the bus and went straight to the travel agency that booked my flight and picked up my ticket. With that I was ready with all the papers.
Suggestions to POEA:
1. don’t bitch to the applicants. You’re not the only ones suffering with lots of things to do. Remember if not for these applicants leaving the Philippines your agency would not have existed, ergo you will not have your jobs that’s making you crappy.
2. i don't mind paying for services, but good services. You ask the OFWs to pay Php6,800 (for direct hires) you should equal that service. No aircon? It’s fine to wait in line but can you at least make our lives a bit bearable? A computer system that bogs down?!!! For each 6,800 you get from everyone, and counting those at the PDOS, we were like more than a hundred, you should be able to improve the system and the service. Don’t say you are understaffed. There are so many process to go through that is unnecessary. Review your flow chart. I can come up with a better system than falling in line and get assed forever.
3. treat your employees well so they do not bitch on the job. Pay them properly. And get rid of nuances and unnecessary steps and processes.
4. it’s not easy for us to decide to leave the country. Had there been better offers to most of the people there at the POEA I am sure they’d rather not leave so please, don’t bitch around. It’s hard enough as it is for us emotionally, and then physically, to do it in your crappy office.
This is not to say that I do not appreciate the reason why the agency exists. A lot of migrant workers are open to exploitation and abuse, and the POEA provides us with more security and safety measures along with the much needed support in being a migrant worker. And I understand how working in an agency that have so many applicantions to process can be very stressful. Guess I just wish the system would get better. For everybody's sake.
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