Senior Citizen Moments

This afternoon, after a hurried lunch, I rushed to the Department of Foreign Affairs to renew my passport, and experienced some pleasant “senior moments.”

I had gone to Makati to apply for a visa to South Africa to attend the board meeting of GCE, the Global Campaign for Education. But the consular staff asked me to get a new passport: “Your passport is somewhat damaged,” she said, “and I can’t promise that immigration will accept it even if you have a visa.”

The taxi ride from Makati to Pasay City  took much longer than I wanted. I was worried that I wouldn’t make it to my 3 p.m. appointment in Quezon City . I was scheduled to meet the staff of the Foundation for Philippine Environment who asked me as chair of the FPE Board of Trustees to give them some directions for their assessment and planning workshop.

I breathed a bit easier after I got my passport photo taken, xeroxed my old passport, and filled up the application form in less than 15 minutes.

The security guard directed me to the covered basketball court to have my papers validated. As soon as I got in, my heart sank. There must have been hundreds patiently seated in long rows, waiting for their appointed hour. The sign at the last row read “3 to 4 p.m.”

I was told to go to a small table to get my appointment time. I calculated that I would be at the tail end of the last row..

“Are you a senior citizen?” the person at the table asked without checking my papers. Must be my graying hair. I should tell Ayen, my daughter, who has been urging me to dye it. He instructed me: “Go directly to Window A, then Window B.”

That took less than five minutes. I was starting to feel good about being a senior citizen.

Where do I go next? Another guard pointed to Gate 3. I dutifully lined up at the end of a double loop. At the rate the line was moving, it would take at least an hour. There was no sign of a separate line for senior citizens. I thought I might as well leave for Quezon City.

Two young women, escorted by a guard,  joined the line behind me. The guard noticed me, probably my hair again, and asked: “Are you a senior citizen?” When I nodded, he told me I need not wait in line. Feeling good again.

Inside the room processing applications for passport renewal, there were around 50 applicants waiting in their seats. Again, my heart sank. I may have to wait for a while.

Then the guard at the door called my attention, and pointed to a separate window. The sign said it was reserved for senior citizens. The clerk checked my papers, asked me to sign my name and place my thumb marks. I paid at the cashier’s window (the line was a short one). I returned to the senior citizens window to get a slip of paper asking me to pick up my new passport after  seven working days.

Unfortunately, there is no way they could process it faster. I immediately texted Thea, the national coordinator of E-Net Philippines to take my place in the GCE board meeting, since the release of my new passport does not give me enough time to apply for a visa.

On the way back to Quezon City, I silently gave thanks for the laws that benefit senior citizens and which have also set the tone for other policies and government processes.

Actually my first pleasant “senior moment” was some years back when I waited for over 30 minutes, unable to get into the crowded cars of the MRT. Then I was told that the first car is reserved for women, those traveling with children, and senior citizens. Since then, though the first car is usually crowded, I have managed to squeeze myself into whatever space is available.

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