The ‘Express’ KITAS Renewal Process

Knowing that I could not travel for a few months, I grudgingly surrendered my passport and soon-to-be-expired KITAS to the Immigration office. Of course the usual raft of paperwork had to accompany this, including solemn written promises that I will employ Indonesian staff, that I will live in an approved tourist zone, and that I will not, under any circumstances, engage in gainful employment. Truth be told, I actually welcome this latter injunction, as it validates my choice to live a life of slothful drifting from one day to the next. In fact, I have no idea how I ever managed to fit work into my daily life before coming here.

As in previous years, I was a little worried about not having my travel documents while the tedious process of KITAS renewal dragged on for several months. One can’t travel at all without documents – not even within Indonesia, where ID is mandatory. The supposed 12-month KITAS which I pay for is not really usable for the whole year anyway. Not that that matters, because the essential Multiple Entry and Exit passport stamp is now only valid for eleven months, because the authorities have decided that they don’t like you travelling during the final month of your KITAS term …

Two years ago, it took two and a half months for the renewal process, because my documents were ‘lost’ – and then the official who had to sign off on them was ‘on leave’. Last year the process was incredibly protracted because the Immigration Office was being investigated by the anti-corruption people, during which time most of their normal work – glacially slow at the best of times – ground to a halt. Ironically, it was suggested to me that a ‘facilitation fee’ might speed up the process, but given the reasons for the low work output, I thought it best to decline.

This year, I planned, perhaps optimistically, for a eight-week turnaround. Naturally, only five days after feeding my entire legal identity into the maw of the Immigration Office, I found out at 9am on a Monday morning that I needed to travel urgently to Australia to help out a friend who had been incapacitated in an accident.

Luckily, I have an excellent agent, who immediately put in an urgent request for ‘express processing’. By 11am, I was in the Immigration Office being fingerprinted yet again, presumably because my fingerprints had changed in the intervening twelve months. I was told that processing would take about a day, so I couldn’t travel on Tuesday, but was assured that I could pick up my completed travel documents by noon on Wednesday. The nice official told me that it would be quite OK for me to book  a flight for Wednesday afternoon. The only flight I could get at short notice was via Jakarta, which meant that I had to be at the airport by 5pm on Wednesday. With Bali’s notorious traffic, I had to leave home by no later than 4pm.

But by noon on Wednesday, there is no sign of my passport or KITAS. I feign stoicism until 1pm, when I call my agent. She says my passport “is on its way and will be there this afternoon”. I begin to worry; “this afternoon” is a rubbery concept in Bali.

At 3pm, my rising stress levels making my voice rise an octave, I speak to my agent again. With insufferable calm, she says: “They’re still waiting for a signature at Imigrasi”. Ye gods. At 3:05pm, she tells me my documents will be arriving in 40 minutes. She also chooses  that moment to inform me that I need to bring 1.5 million with me for the express processing fee. Oh, wonderful. Three hours ago I discovered that my debit card has stopped working at all of the ATMs I tried, and I have just enough cash for the taxi, a humble snack and the obligatory departure tax.

At 3:45pm, not game enough to call the agent again because my voice is approaching ultrasonic frequencies, I hurtle over there on my bike. Praise be to The Great Squirrel! My passport and KITAS has just arrived! The agent apologises for the delay, explaining that, only that morning, a team of workmen had unexpectedly descended on the Immigration offices to perform ‘unscheduled maintenance’, which stopped all work. I am so speechless that I brush off her request for money and rush back home to call a taxi, finally departing for the airport, my stomach full of hydrochloric acid, a mere half an hour behind schedule. But I have my passport back!

On the way to the airport, I puzzle over my itinerary, which doesn’t tell me whether I leave from the domestic or the international terminal. The cab driver laughs. “If you transit in Jakarta, you go from domestic terminal”, he says assuredly. I am sceptical; after all, isn’t it a normal international flight with a stop-over? “No”, says the cabbie. “This is Indonesia. You go from the domestic terminal, because that way you have to pay 40,000 departure tax, and another 150,000 when you leave Jakarta.” He grins wickedly. “The government likes that.” Oh, of course. Why didn’t I think of that?

So, finally on the plane, I have time to think about how it is possible, for extra money, to get a two-day KITAS renewal instead of waiting for two months. And I realise why it normally takes that long for us normal schmucks to get one – because the full resources of the immigration department are engaged in making money from the express delivery set.

Some might think that it’s almost like a sort of, er, bribe. But when you need something done right now, and people have to make a special effort to make sure you get it – well, I reckon paying a fast-tracking facilitation fee is worth it. Despite the last-minute panic, it certainly was for me.

How to Make Tourists and Expats Disappear from Bali

It’s always interesting to talk to new visitors to Bali and glean their first impressions. I am somewhat enamoured of the place myself – despite its flaws – so it always comes as a mild shock to speak to someone who has their head screwed on a little tighter than mine, someone perhaps less prone to falling for the ‘paradise’ tag promoted by tourism authorities. In the last six months, I have heard increasing numbers of  grumbles from people who have been disappointed with their Bali experience. The latest such disaffected person is someone who has lived in various locations in South-East Asia. This was his first visit to Bali.

When asked the inevitable question: “What do you think of Bali?”, his response was measured, but honest. He said: “Well, it’s not as beautiful as advertised …” My reaction was to bristle. I felt mildly insulted, and protective towards this island I have come to love. I thought to myself , oh great – here is a recent blow-in who is judging the place after 2 days. How dare he! But of course, a few moments’ reflection showed that he was right. Bali isn’t as beautiful as advertised. No place is. The image portrayed to the outside world is a mash-up – a synthesis of the best bits to be found all over the island. No-one promoting Bali mentions the open drains, the rubbish, the deadly traffic or frustrating inefficiencies of the arrivals hall at the airport. The reality is that there is good and bad to be found in any place, but too much bad puts tourists off.

He went on to say: “It’s more expensive than advertised”.  I was compelled to agree. For a visitor, and certainly for an expat, Bali can be expensive, and it is becoming more so. Just how expensive is a question of personal choices. Do you choose to eat in expensive restaurants targeting tourists and “rich” expats, or in a cheap and cheerful warung? Do you choose to drink imported, exorbitantly-taxed wine and spirits, or limit yourself to Bintang? Do you choose to stay in a luxury villa, or find more humble accommodation? It’s a balancing act here between what the Government and local providers think that ‘pampered’ Westerners want, and what they need. Unfortunately, when tourists don’t get want they want from a destination, they don’t return.

His initial responses to Bali are, in themselves, just valid opinions. What worries me is that more and more tourists are expressing similar opinions, often on-line, and often to a large audience of potential new travellers. With so much competition from other nearby destinations, what will happen to Bali’s attractiveness as a destination if this trend accelerates?

It’s not just short-term visitors who are becoming wary of Tourist Board spin either. Based on emails received recently, long-term expats, many of whom contribute huge amounts of money and expertise to Bali, are starting to leave the island. They are saying that conditions here are “not tolerable anymore”, citing “the high cost of imported food and wine”, the “high cost for internet access” and the increasingly hostile attitude of the government towards expats. One reader even believes that there is a deliberate policy to make life difficult for expats. He asks: “… is this what the politicians in Jakarta, especially the Islamic movement, had planned when these drastic price increases were made? Is it their plan to drive the Westerners out in order to free the Indonesian people from Western influence?”

I can’t answer that. Maybe someone in Jakarta can. But I do know that punitive alcohol and food duties are driving people away. I do know that new rules – or new implementation of existing rules – have made it impossible for arriving expats to bring in their personal effects without hitting ludicrous official snags. A friend had to have all of her effects shipped back to Australia because “the rules have changed” while the goods were in transit. Others can’t pick up their goods because they don’t yet have a KITAS. Still others are being charged exorbitant and arbitrary “duty” far in excess of the official rate.

I do know that a friend’s son, enrolled in a school here, is now being denied a Student KITAS because, according to an official, “we are no longer happy about issuing a Student KITAS to people under 18″. What? Schools here can’t enrol foreign students without a KITAS.  If this is a new policy, it means that hundreds of expat families with student children will have to leave the country, or leave their children unschooled. I also know that a number of foreign teachers have recently had their KITAS extensions refused, which means they can’t work, or even stay in the country. I guess that will solve the emerging problem of too many teachers after the kids have all been kicked out, right?

So what is going on? I am not a conspiracy theorist, but things just aren’t adding up. Why are we being faced with a raft of strange rules and regulations aimed directly at the heart of Bali’s tourism industry and its expat community? Why is the regional Bali government sitting back and saying nothing when the economy of Bali is being threatened in this way? Make no mistake – alienate the tourists, marginalise the expats, and Bali loses the cornerstone of its economy. And Bali can not afford that.

Enlighten me someone. Tell me that this current regimen of crazy duties and intransigent new rules and policies is just a confluence of unrelated official stupidities. Tell me it’s not an orchestrated anti-Western campaign. But if it is, at least be honest about it. I will sadly accept that I am no longer welcome as a guest in your country and go somewhere more hospitable.