When I saw the title of Thomas Dillon's Sept. 30 article, "The curse of the middle name," I just knew what to expect. And, I wasn't wrong. Mr. Dillon, I hear you!
Opening a bank account, going to immigration, applying for a visa card -- you name it -- is a nightmare. I prepare meticulously with every form of identification known to man -- passport, alien registration card, hanko (personalized stamp). The list goes on. I couldn't be anymore "me" if I tried.
Invariably, there is always a hitch. The sound of sucking air through teeth, as Dillon rightly pointed out, is always a bad sign, as is the taking of any documents to a colleague or superior for verification. Bad news. Always.
The "best" experience I have had so far was applying for my license. With two middle names, I thought the guys at the license-issuing office were going to have mild heart attacks. There was a lot of running up and down stairs and many pow-wows as my (not-so-long-by-Western-standards) name would not fit on the license. I had set a precedent. I even joked with the official that it was all my mother's fault for giving me two middle names. I was already over it.
My advice to foreigners would be to always allow ample time for hitches and don't automatically expect that, just because you have prepared ever so carefully, you will succeed in accomplishing your goal the first time. These things are here to test us -- or send us home.
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