I’ve written a lot about moving to South Africa, adjusting to life here, exploring the country, and even some about dealing with bureaucracy. One thing I haven’t touched on much is what it’s like to be an immigrant, the process, and immigration in general.

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be an overly political post. In fact, politics isn’t going to enter into it at all, one side or the other. I’m also not going to throw myself into the dumpster fire that is any discussion around undocumented migration. Nope. No sir.

This post is going to be about what it was like, the potholes I encountered, and how I think immigration should be changed to accommodate today’s modern world.

It’s a long one, so settle in.

The Journey Begins…With a Rejection

When I first started looking to immigrate to South Africa, the first thing to figure out was what kind of visa I’d need beyond the 90 day tourist visa. As a former Navy Nuclear Engineer, graduate of the Navy Nuclear Power School (NNPS), and a Chemist/Engineer for the last 25+ years, it seemed that a Critical Skills Visa would be the obvious choice.

Even though I submitted my diploma, transcripts, and the unclassified versions of the NNPS texts, my application was rejected. The reason given was that the qualification agency could not certify my education and experience because the US Navy would not disseminate the classified versions of texts, etc., to them.

Ok, so strike one.

Then I started pursuing a work visa, which sounds simpler than it is. For a work visa you need to have a valid offer of employment, but most employers won’t extend an offer unless they know you’re authorized to work in the country.

See how that is quite the Catch-22?

You can’t immigrate for work if you don’t have a job offer, but you can’t get a job offer unless you’re authorized to work.

So, as you might guess, no luck there.

Strike two.

After talking with our visa agent, they suggested that we apply for a spousal visa, one that grants temporary residency. That way I could move here, Kim and I could get married, and, on a successful outcome, would be allowed to stay in South Africa.

Third Time is the Charm

TV and movies make it seem like anyone can just come to another country, get married, and voila, all their problems are solved and they can live happily ever after. Honestly, I think this portrayal does more harm than good.

Prior to leaving the US, I had to make sure I had all my ducks in a row. That meant paperwork.

Lots and lots of paperwork.

The first thing you learn is that you can’t just rock up to another country with your documentation and expect everything to be a-ok. Truth is, you can’t even do that with certified/notarized copies of documentation from your home country.

Nope.

The vast majority of times your documentation must be Apostilled.

This means you have to submit all your documentation to a governmental authority for them to super-certify that the documentation is legit. The apostille can only be issued to a specific country, as well, as there’s no “generic” apostille.

A lot of times this will require you sending them off and then waiting weeks, if not months, for them to get returned.

Fortunately, I was pretty lucky. After figuring out the process in Florida, and trying to find a way to expedite the process (since I had a firm date to leave) I was able to go in person to the Secretary of State’s office in Tallahassee, where I was living, and get them done the same day.

Even this wasn’t simple, as my documents had to first be notarized before they could be apostilled, and even then when I had them notarized, the State rejected them saying they needed a specific type of notary stamp for them to accept the documents.

If you’re not fortunate to be in the city where the apostille can be granted, you simply have to mail things off, hope you have everything correct, pay your fees, and then wait…and wait…and wait.

Please remember that each and every step so far, and those yet to come, have had an associated monetary cost. Everything from document requests from government agencies, notary costs, to apostilles, to application fees…everything has a price.

So now I’m a couple grand into this and I finally have all the documentation I need to immigrate.

Maybe.

Rules, Regulations, Requirements, and Confusion

Every country has different requirements for those wishing to immigrate, particularly when it comes to documentation. And buried inside these requirements are more requirements of who can issue them, how old can they be, what language they have to be in, and then the whole apostille thing.

Not wanting to risk missing a requirement, I apostilled everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything. This was done in hope that I wouldn’t have to facilitate procuring any more documentation through the always reliable thing known as international mail.

As you can read in “Getting Married in South Africa” Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3, things didn’t work out this way. There was still “missing” documents, a trip or two to the US Consulate (after begging for an appointment because it was still Covid time), and more than one attempt at submitting the documentation to Home Affairs.

That was just for getting married. Now I had to go through this all again applying for my Temporary Residence Visa.

That meant more documents, more certified copies, and more money.

Some of the documentation I couldn’t get until I was in country because they had to be issued by a South African entity. Oh, and that’s not simple either, because finding said entity that does those things is an exercise in itself.

Oh, and some of them you can’t get until the day you submit your application, like the Police Clearance.

I cannot express how grateful I am that we both hired a visa agent and we hired the visa agent we did. They answered every question, multiple times, were able to deal with our stress and anxiety, and hand walked us through the process up to and including at VFS, where they answered the questions the VFS staff had.

Hurry Up and Wait

Once everything is in, all your fees are paid, then there’s nothing to do but wait.

Covid put a strain on the immigration services in every country and created massive backlogs through offices being closed and applications not being processed.

The initial estimate was 6-8 months for processing, which turned into a little over a year. Fortunately, here in SA, once you submit your application, and get your receipt, you are legally allowed to stay in the country. And in South Africa, like in many other countries, once you submit your application, it comes with a bunch of restrictions.

The biggest one is, well, you can’t leave. If I were to have left South Africa, I would have been adjudicated undesirable and banned from entry for 10 years. Now, this didn’t bother me too much in the beginning. It started to become more of a concern as time dragged on. There’s things on the schedule for this year that necessitate leaving South Africa.

Fortunately, I don’t have to be concerned about it anymore. I am officially a legal, albeit temporary, resident of South Africa.

Life in Limbo

For me, and really anyone who immigrates to another country, you can spend a good amount of time living in limbo. Technically you have no status, you can’t work (even volunteer work), you can’t establish residency to do things like open a bank account or get an ID or driver’s license… you’re nearly a persona non grata.

So what does one do?

Really, the best you can. Although nearly impossible, you do your best to not stress about the process and the outcome. You enjoy doing the things you can with the hope that one day you’ll be able to do some of the things you can’t.

In some instances, like the US, life in limbo can last years and years, taking a toll on a person’s mental health, their quality of life, and their relationships.

How does this help any country?

This is where I believe most, if not all, immigration systems fail.

A Modern World needs Modern Solutions

Immigration systems worldwide are in need of a major overhaul. Most are expensive, tedious, punitive, and can be nearly impossible to navigate much less qualify for.

In the US, for example, the system is built on the presumption that the visa holder is going to overstay. Guilty until proven innocent. We’ve known people who tried to go to the US on a valid Tourist visa and were turned away at the border because the CBP official didn’t think their ties to South Africa were ‘strong enough’.

We worry about this happening when we visit the US later this year. The fear of being turned away is never far from mind.

I honestly believe it should be simpler for people to immigrate. Period.

If covid taught us anything, it’s that remote work is here to stay. Some countries have begun to realize this and have created new classes of visas called ‘digital nomad’ visas. Currently over 40 countries offer digital nomad visas, which allow people to live and work within the country. These visas usually have fewer restrictions, allow you to work for someone remotely or freelance, and can, in some cases, be a bridge to residency.

I get that countries want their immigrants to come and be productive members of society. In that regard, it should be easier to transfer your qualifications from your home country to your new country of residence. The idea that you’re a qualified professional in one country but not in another unless you meet some arcane, outdated qualification requirements is, to me, super counterproductive. Let people come, get certified (if necessary), and work in their respective fields without having to repeat their education all over again or go through some long, drawn out, and expensive process to do what they’re trained to do.

Immigration should be substantially less expensive, as well. Next to the complexity and restrictive nature of a country’s immigration process, I would venture to guess cost is the next biggest reason keeping people from immigrating, particularly from poorer to richer countries.

Building a better life for you and/or your family should not be cost prohibitive. It shouldn’t. But since it is, those that do go on the journey are already behind the eight ball when, and if, they’re able to start their new lives in their new country.

Freedom of movement for peoples really needs to be expanded in today’s rapidly changing world.

I Know I’m Lucky

Truly. I know I’m one of the fortunate ones who is able to successfully navigate immigrating to another country. I also know that immigrating TO South Africa, with all the restrictions and rules, was a far easier, and far less expensive, option than having Kim immigrate to the US. Both of us have come to the conclusion that had we gone that way, the immigration process alone would probably have killed our relationship.

I can’t imagine the toll the immigration process takes on those who had it more difficult than us. Up until my visa was approved, the thought of me being rejected and having to leave the country was always at the back of our minds.

I don’t know what all the answers are.

I just know things cannot continue the way they are. For if they do, people, families, and countries are going to be poorer for it.

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