Ok, maybe fiasco is a bit of an exaggeration but it almost ended up more of a “failport” than a passport appointment.

Making the appointment

On the last Friday in March 2019, we embarked on an item that I had on my to-do list for a few months now – apply for my daughter’s first passport before she turned one in May. Two weeks earlier, I called to make the appointment and the earliest one I could have gotten was in Tobago. Hmm. A chance to visit our beautiful sister isle, see my husband’s dad and his wife (affectionately dubbed our Tobago mummy) and get something scratched off my to-do list all at once! Yes, please! (I ❤ efficiency).

Since my passport had also expired on the same day I made the appointment (I hadn’t realised it was so close to expiry) and my husband’s was due to expire later on this year, I decided to make the appointment for all three of us. Yay! Did I mention I ❤ efficiency?

But I should have known that for this family, what would have been a normal, mundane task would turn into a most memorable experience. I know, I know, of course it would be Yash, it is your child’s first passport application. Nope, that fact was maybe the fifth reason why this experience was so notable. Read on to understand why…

A woman’s intuition

First off, a woman must always listen to her intuition. Okay, maybe not when you need only item costing $10 but you spend $100 to get free shipping and think you are saving, but I mean generally. While I was packing for our short trip, I wondered if I needed to walk with an outfit that had sleeves.  I mean, I know I was going to run an errand but it was Tobago, the land of the sleeveless, and I also didn’t want to pack too many clothes since we would only be there for two days. So I packed a nice, long, sleeveless dress for my passport appointment because I figured that you would only need sleeved attire if you had to take a live image capture for your passport.

The instructions on the form said that “First-time applicants for the Machine Readable Passport are not required to submit photographs. In all such cases there will be live image capture at the Immigration Office. For the issue of any subsequent Machine Readable Passport, you must submit two identical photographs which must meet the photograph specifications attached.”

Click here for forms and instructions on passport applications and renewals

My “blankardigan”

So I assumed that that meant that I was required to walk with the photographs and there would be no live capture since this is a renewal of our machine readable passports. Reasonable assumption right? Wrong! As soon as you reach the front of the Immigration Office in Tobago, there is a sign that says “Absolutely no sleeveless and slippers”. I am not sure what constitutes a slipper (perhaps they meant a rubberdingding) but I believe I was wearing both items. The guard asked if I had anything to throw over my shoulders and all I could think of was my daughter’s blanket. She said it doesn’t matter, once my shoulders were covered. So yes, my daughter’s blanket became my “blankardigan”.

Tenth times the charm

So it didn’t take too long to get to the officer who would actually process our application.

He started with my husband. Everything was going fine until it was time for him to sign the digital signature thingamabob. Now my husband has one of those fancy, almost unintelligible scrawls as his signature, and the fact that my signature is basically me writing out my full name, all letters properly formed (properly is subjective) has always been a thing. I remembered my last renewal, I had to write my signature maybe six or seven times before I got something that was acceptable. So naturally, I was nervous about signing this time and voiced it. My husband seemed pretty confident that he would get it on the first go. Ok, Mr. John Hancock.😒

He signs. There is like two seconds of silence while the officer examines it on the computer and compares it to the signature on the renewal form. Nope. He has to sign again. Apparently, your digital signature must match the specimen signature on the form. Okay, no problem. Signs again. Nope. One more time. Still nope. Try again. Ummmm nope. By this time, my husband has started overthinking it and makes it worse. I think he probably tried about ten times when the officer decided to save the one that was closest. I’ll be honest, I was chuckling a bit on the inside, not wanting to jinx when it was my turn.

The Giggle Loop

I was up next.  I was nervous about my signature but I get it to match on the first-go! Okay, so now to get my photo. Already thrilled 🤦‍♀️ that for the next five years, my picture will be depicting me wearing my very aqua-blue dress with a green blankardigan with clouds on it, I get myself ready. I don’t know who made the rule that you can’t smile when you are taking your passport picture, but I am not particularly fond of him/her. Smiling is basically my default expression. Even when I try to be serious, I somehow end up with a slight smirk.

I am trying my best to stay solemn but I already know I am looking weird; I even feel an eye twitch coming on. The officer snaps the photo. He looks at it and you just know he probably has been through this with several women. He asks me to come look at the photo to see if I am satisfied else he would try again. Smart man. I look at it and grimace at what I see. Apparently, my face compensates for the lack of a smile with bulging, crazy eyes. So I tell him yes, let’s try again.

But now my mouth keeps twitching and I don’t know how to stop it. Then I get into a “giggle loop” and won’t stop giggling every time I try to pose. Sigh. I guess the bulgy crazy-eyed photo will have to do.

Untimely Tantrum

So now my baby girl is next. In retrospect, I feel like maybe we should have started with her, when she was in a good mood. I had booked the appointment for 10:00am, forgetting that she would usually like to nap around that time, which meant that she would also be grumpy for the boobs. Though lately she has been keeping us on our toes with her naptimes so I took a chance.

That failed miserably. Just when it was time for her to take her picture, my baby girl decides that the cute bow I put in her hair was the most revolting thing on the planet and pulls it off, only to get it hooked on her tiny earring, which made her even more upset. She kept tossing her head from side to side to get it off while we both try to help her. She is almost inconsolable. We have one trick when she is like this but the sign says that we can’t use cell phones. But did that mean we can’t use them for YouTube?

At this point, we have no choice and the officer did not even protest when we whip out one of our cell phones and start playing the song that magically stops our baby girl from crying (most times) – Dinobus. Coupled with me trying to sit in the right position to get the photo (I had to sit and face the wall then put her on my knee and try to lift it up), it was quite a task but we somehow get the photo. In fact, I think she got the best photo out of all three of us. Damn her serious face cuteness. But of course as I always say, God has a sense of humour, so after we got the photo, she was back to her previous happy and playful demeanour. Go figure.

Mission: Accomplished

Despite all the ruckus, we still managed to finish the process in about fifty minutes, which I thought was great. The gentleman who dealt with us was also very accommodating, friendly and even laughed at our jokes, which I think I appreciated most of all. I didn’t get his name but he was the only gentleman I saw there that day so kudos to you, immigration guy with glasses! 

While he was wrapping up the final steps of the process, I whip out my boob and breastfeed my baby girl. My husband looks over at me as he remembers one of the instructions on the form. He asks, “So you mean in five years when we come back to renew our passports, she will have to sign?” Yes, the instructions say that a child older than five years will have to sign the application form. We both are straight-faced for a second then burst out laughing.

Could you even imagine? With our luck, I would imagine that our baby girl would sign the form and then feel artistic and want to draw shapes for her digital signature. I guess I should prepare myself from now.

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