September 25, 2018
The Police
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It's been ten days since the last time I had a run-in with the police. Considering that I had one instance of "Marian versus the Police" on my last tour, one instance of "Marian versus the Police" on the tour before that, one instance on the tour before that, and only one before that, I'm really hoping that this already being the third time this tour that I've been recorded on bodycam does not indicate a theme. Cause even though this all went really really well, being around the police reminds me of the Incident.
Be that as it may, these police were nothing at all like those police. Those police were professionals who, given the information that they had at the time, did absolutely nothing wrong in arresting me. These police were basically the rural Chinese version of the Keystone Kops, and, given the information that they had at the time, did absolutely nothing right in annoying me.
The registration software was being particularly uncooperative this evening. First it was being uncooperative about letting the hotel owner log on at all. Then it was being uncooperative in saving my registration. I started by filling in all the red marked "you must fill this in" and clicked save - but nothing happened. Then I filled in a bunch of extraneous stuff that usually doesn't matter and clicked save - but nothing happened. Eventually, I filled out every single field before clicking save - but nothing happened. Finally, I gave up, went up to my hotel room, unpacked, showered, got my dirty laundry, and went to use the washing machine.
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The hotel owner's mom and I were in the process of hanging my wash up on the line when the local police showed up. They showed up because the internet had, at some point in the past ninety minutes, finally cooperated in letting my registration get saved and someone—having nothing else better to do with his time—had noticed it.
They were not there to tell me I couldn't stay. Nope. They were just there to register me. Cause they knew that needed to be done. Not that they knew how to do it, mind you. Just that they knew it needed to be done. That the only reason they knew I was there because I was already registered did not register with them as perhaps being an indicator that they did not need to do anything. Nope. They'd left the police station, gotten in the police car, come to the hotel, and now they were going to do something. Cause something needed to be done. Just, uh, what it was that needed to be, well, that's where they weren't so sure....but dammit, they were going to do it. Whatever it was.
The hotel owner's dad and I got in his car (a very nice SUV that clearly was bought with money from sources other than running this hotel) to follow the police back to the station. Where they still didn't know what to do. Just that it needed doing.
My handwriting, in any language, is atrocious so I eventually ended up using one of their computers to write a statement for them titled "Situation Statement". It included my name, my ID info, when I'd entered their county, when I planned to leave. Working on the theory that providing too much is less work than being asked to come back and give more because you've provided too little, I also added in information on all the places I'd been in this province. Then, since the computer in question was running an incredibly buggy and laggy copy of Windows XP, it crashed and I had to start over.
(Support for XP ended in 2009. Extended support ended in 2014)
While this was going on, and between having my cup of tea repeatedly refilled to the point that I spent all night waking up to go to the bathroom, someone in another room was on the phone trying to figure out what else might be necessary. I probably should have told them that, in the event of my staying in a private residence, their computers also have a copy of the registration software, but I'm a little fuzzy on exactly which program does that as most Chinese police stations are oddly reticent about letting random foreign civilians muck about with their computers. Besides which, I was having far too much fun watching the train wreck.
Eventually they came up with a physical copy of the Temporary Residence Registration Form for Foreigners which, no shit, after multiple failures to get it to work as an email attachment, someone faxed them. This was followed by photocopying a large percentage of my passport (including the outside cover, inside covers, info page, current residence permit, and important looking things like my expired Vietnamese visa).
When the hotel owner's dad and I left, one of the officers was using my "Situation Statement" and the bundle of photocopies to fill in the Registration Form by hand. What was done with it after that though, I'll never know.
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