Catshanghai

We got married in March 2006. As a Brit marrying a Chinese girl, we followed the UK Consulate’s guidelines of notarising the wedding certificate so it would be recognised abroad. This has made it relatively easy to get permission to visit the UK and France, although we still have to collect more than a dozen documents whenever Jenny applies for a visa.

This morning we went to the Spanish visa office on The Bund armed with all our documents expecting more of the same. There is an office staffed with Chinese administrators vetting all applications to make sure there are no mistakes or discrepancies. The woman we spoke to told us that our wedding certificate was not recognised by the Spanish visa office. I told her that it was good for the Brits and the French, but she was not having any of it. Given that the Spanish do not regard our marriage as being legally valid they were unwilling to consider the fact that I am paying for my wife’s visit to Spain. They sent her away, because her bank statement did not have enough funds to support her over four days in Barcelona. I was seething with anger at this point and became very abrupt with the visa clerk, because it felt like she was denying the voracity of our marriage.

This is a classic case of outsourcing, except it seems a little weird when a Chinese petty officer tells you that your wife can or cannot go to Spain. It’s a lot like me going to the UK and telling the English wife of a Chinese man that she cannot go to China. The visa soup nazi succeeded in sending us out in the rain on a pointless exercise to transfer funds into my wife’s account. We raced back to the visa office to present our evidence before it shut for the day. Now it’s a case of waiting and hoping.

We have already paid for the flights and hotel. You have to show this as part of the visa application. If Jenny’s application is rejected then we stand to lose 5000 RMB for no good reason.

In the afternoon I paid a visit to the UK Consulate in Nanjing Xi Lu to answer a few questions about our wedding certificate. It unsettles you when a soup nazi tells you that you are not legally married. I was reassured that we made no mistake. The British Consulate officer told me that the Spanish and French offices frequently refuse to accept such marriage certificates, although it is recognised by the Brits. Nobody was able to tell me how you can satisfy the Spanish is legally valid. Maybe they are trying to settle an old score for Gibraltar or Catherine of Aragon.

The helpful British Consulate officer also told me that Jenny is eligible to apply for a five year visa to travel to the UK, which means I only have to write two letters of invitation on behalf of my wife every ten years. As absurd as this seems, the British visa bureaucracy is starting to appear almost reasonable and humane. I wish I had known about this a month ago before we applied for Jenny’s visa.

I’m starting to feel less embarassed about being from the UK.