Eight Boots Abroad

Everyone’s worst traveling nightmare – losing a passport! Here are all the details on the sad mess I created by losing a passport while traveling through remote central Laos (of note, one of the last remaining communist countries on earth). A step-by-step account outlining how it happened and how we spent weeks going through every bureaucratic hoop imaginable to replace it.

Step 1: December 5th, Vang Vieng, Laos – a stunningly beautiful backpacker paradise! Your family decides to participate in activities like hiking, cave tubing, hot air ballooning, lagoon swimming, and kayaking.

Step 2: Have a discussion with your husband about the best way to keep money and passports safe during these adventures. Acknowledge the fact that many travelers report having money and passports stolen from their rooms in their accommodations here and 6 backpackers died in Vang Vieng last month from methanol poisoning. So, in your mind this place is beautiful and fun… but also requires a higher level of caution and awareness.

Step 3: Decide you trust your hotel staff and passports will be left in your backpack in the hotel room (unfortunately, there is no safe available in your room).

Step 4: Change your mind at the last second and decide to put the passports in a small dry bag along with your cell phone and keep them with you.

Step 5: Hop on songthaew (open bed pick-up used for transport of locals and travelers in Southeast Asia) with your family and head out for a fun day of water sports (cave tubing, kayaking, and lagoon swimming).

Step 6: Four hours into your day of adventures, carefully open your small dry bag while kayaking to grab your phone for a photo. 

Step 7: Twenty seconds later, return your phone carefully to the dry bag and notice only three of the four passports are in the bag. Freak out a little and recount: 1 passport… 2 passports… 3 passports.

Step 8: Mind spins out of control. Count again. 1, 2, 3… 1, 2, 3… 1, 2, 3…

Step 9: Scream a few words that your poor daughter sharing the kayak does not enjoy hearing: “Noooooo! No! No! No! #&*^$! Nooooo!”

Step 10: Tell your husband in the kayak beside you that there are only three passports. Have him reassure you that you just left one by itself in the hotel that morning. Emphatically respond that you definitely did not, and a passport is truly missing. Have this exact same discussion like four times while your mind spins faster and faster.

Step 11: Your daughter chimes in: “you’re ruining the vibe momma! Just enjoy the day of kayaking!” … and then she playfully splashes water in your face. Your guide thinks your daughter splashing you with the kayak paddle is really amusing and joins in (he’s unaware of the entire situation).

Step 12: Dissociate your mind and body to survive the situation.

Step 13: You get tunnel vision as the world spins. Spend the longest 15 minutes of your life trying not to pass out… all while getting repeatedly splashed in a playful manner.

Step 14: Finally get to shore and open the dry bag again, in hopes that you just miscounted or something. 1, 2, 3…

Step 15: Have your husband tell you again about how he is positive the fourth passport is definitely just in the hotel room.

Step 16: Walk the dusty streets of Vang Vieng back to your hotel, show your husband the missing passport is indeed not there.

Step 17: Hire a songthaew to drive your family around for three hours, everyone retracing every step of your day. The driver is very sweet and becomes a member of the Silleck passport search team.

Step 18: Feel more nauseous and upset with every unfruitful stop.

Step 19: As the sun sets, return to your hotel, very sad.

Step 20: Have your host at your hotel ask you why you didn’t just leave the passports in your room where they would be safe?! Now, in addition to your sadness and frustration, you also feel like a horrible person for not fully trusting the hotel staff.

Step 21: Google: “what to do if you lose your passport in Laos” and read other people’s accounts of how many hurdles there are to getting it replaced.

Step 22: Discover the US does have an embassy in Laos – in the capital city of Vientiane. They make it clear on their website that lost passports are not an emergency to them. You are only to call the emergency number if you are kidnapped or dying. Otherwise, try Monday at 8am. It’s currently Friday at 7pm.

Step 23: Wake up the next morning and head to the local police station to report the missing passport. This station has a worn wooden table, a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and a fax machine from 1990 in the corner. You ask to take a photo because this all feels so surreal. They do not let you.

Step 24: Sit at the desolate table and fill out some paperwork recounting what bad life choices you made, then give a smudged thumbprint for a reason you don’t really understand. You are told to return the next morning to collect a more official documentation of the lost passport.

Step 25: Take a photo *just outside* of the police station. This makes you smile a little bit. Your husband does not enjoy taking this photo and is super-embarrassed.

Step 26: Return the next morning to collect documentation the police were supposed to be working on over the last 24hrs. You discover they actually didn’t do any paperwork for you after you left the previous day. Spend 20 minutes filling out the additional paperwork they didn’t do. Give another smudged thumbprint. This time they also want your daughter’s thumbprint. Hers is even more smudged. 

Step 27: Leave the police station with your “official documentation” of the lost passport – which is essentially a piece of paper that says “I am a hot mess and here are some thumbprints to certify that fact.” Nothing is digital or put into an official system. 

Step 28: Your family hops on a train to Luang Prabang, which is several hours in the OPPOSITE direction of the US Embassy in Vientiane. You had cleverly left 75% of your luggage in Luang Prabang with plans to pick up the luggage and fly to Bangkok and on to Bali within 48hrs. As a result, the only way to Vientiane is with a very inconvenient stop in Luang Prabang.

Step 29: Arrive in Luang Prabang. Your amazing host here had been in contact with you and hired his friend to sit at the train station for several hours to arrange train tickets from Luang Prabang to Vientiane that same day (anyone who has attempted to get last-minute train tickets in Laos will realize this is nothing short of an absolute miracle)!

Step 30: Your amazing host in Luang Prabang also helps you call the US Embassy. The embassy informs you that they can get an emergency replacement passport in 24hrs! Your hopes fly so high! You can continue on with your adventures as planned!

Step 31: In the next sentence they inform you this emergency passport can only be used to travel back to the US, not to continue your multi-leg international journey. To continue your onward travels, you would need a real replacement passport – and replacement passports overseas have to be transported through diplomatic pouches and take 2-5 weeks! They have no way to expedite the process.

Step 32: Hopes are crushed.

Step 33: Luckily, you are able to negotiate an emergency appointment with the US Embassy in Vientiane the next morning at 8am to start the process. 

Step 34: Get on the evening train from Luang Prabang to Vientiane. By the time you arrive in Vientiane, you have been traveling for 14 hours. The entire family is physically and emotionally exhausted.

Step 35: Arrive at the US Embassy early the next morning to begin the replacement passport process. They confiscate all electronics at the security checkpoint as you enter. No phones. No computers.

Step 36: Begin filling out paperwork. They require your daughter’s birth certificate, which of course… you don’t have. You realize you don’t even know your daughter’s social security number. You proudly provide them with a copy of the lost passport and your police report from Vang Vieng. They seem pretty unimpressed and again ask for her birth certificate.

Step 37: Without proper documents you are informed you will only be issued an emergency passport. You will have to wait several days for a replacement exit visa, and your entire family will have to fly back to the US and wait there for a replacement passport. You ask if copies of the documents would be acceptable, they say they may consider it. Of course you don’t have originals (or copies) of birth certificates, marriage certificates, or social security cards.

Step 38: Ponder the logistics of family Christmas and New Year’s back in Colorado. The cost for everyone to fly home to Colorado last-minute and then back to Asia once the passport arrives is pretty exorbitant. (Plus, the emergency passport still would require paperwork for an emergency exit visa from Laos which is a minimum three day turnaround).

Step 39: You vaguely remember taking a photo of your daughter’s birth certificate for some reason a few years back (perhaps for her kindergarten registration?!). Ask to leave the embassy to retrieve your phone and search for the photo.

Step 40: Open your past decade of stored photos, trying not to be overly-emotional as you scroll past all of the sentimental pictures of your kids when they were little. You are such a sad mess at the moment.

Step 41: Discover photos of both the birth certificate and social security card! Locate a random place down the street to print them. They charge you way too much, but you don’t even care, as your only other option is purchasing a flight back to the US.

Step 42: Return to the US Embassy with printed copies of the birth certificate and social security card in hand!

Step 43: Your family pleads your case to the embassy worker and the printed document copies are accepted! However, the back-up passport photo you have with you doesn’t have a “white enough” background. They don’t take passport photos at the embassy, so you walk down the street to find a photo place. The new passport photo of your sweet daughter is especially sad. You decide the moment is truly captured in time.

Step 44: Again return to the embassy, the application is complete! You submit it and ask the embassy workers to narrow down the 2-5 weeks timeline they’ve given. They say not to worry, but that it’s out of their hands.

Step 45: All four family members jump on different emotional roller coasters. Criss-crossing highs and lows, it’s pretty wild. You have paid a deposit for a 2-week liveaboard snorkeling boat in Indonesia, which you need to board on December 29th. You all want so badly to be on that boat. Today is December 11th.

Step 46: Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you keep researching. Your clever husband discovers that you also need a “certificate of lost/stolen passport” from the Laos Immigration Department. This certificate is separate from the one you filled out a few days ago at the archaic police station in Vang Vieng, and will be required when you apply for your daughter’s emergency exit visa with her new passport when it arrives.

Step 47: Locate the Laos Immigration Department (luckily it’s also in Vientiane) to apply for your “certificate of lost/stolen passport.” 

Step 48: Discover a different, uniquely-sized photo is needed for this paperwork. You find a wedding photographer near your hotel who also does photos for documents. He takes your daughter’s photo, but the power goes out before he can print it. He tells you to check back in 24hrs to see if the power has been restored. (I swear, I’m not making any of this stuff up)

Step 49: The next day power has been restored! Collect your photo and head to the Laos Immigration Department. Your family will be redirected to three different floors and six different departments within the immigration office before finally being able to fill out more paperwork and turn in your application for the certificate you need.

Step 50: Return three days later to collect the certificate.

Step 51: Spend a few days reaching out to airlines, homestays, and hotels – trying to recoup money you have already spent on non-refundable airline tickets and accommodations in Bangkok, Bali, Komodo National Park, and Raja Ampat in Indonesia. People are surprisingly empathetic and you are somewhat successful.

Step 52: Your husband’s birthday arrives (December 17)! You’re supposed to be celebrating in Bali. Instead, you find yourselves in an ongoing, self-induced hostage situation in Vientiane. Your kiddos research and decide to surprise him with a trip to the quirky “trick art” museum at a partially abandoned mall in Vientiane. Not surprisingly, you are the only visitors to the “museum.” Lots of silly pictures are taken:

Step 53: The waiting game continues. The US Embassy has kindly requested you stop calling/emailing for updates on the status of the passport. They reassure you they will contact you via email when it is available.

Step 54: You have combed through the limited last-minute flight options and realized that December 23rd is the last day the passport can arrive and still allow your family to make it onto the liveaboard boat in Indonesia.

Step 55: Continue to frequently check your email for an update from the US Embassy in a very neurotic manner.

Step 56: The morning of December 23rd arrives and still no word from the US Embassy. Hopes of making it to Indonesia are dying.

Step 57: You attempt (unsuccessfully) to come to peace with the fact that you will probably be spending Christmas and New Year’s in the vapid city of Vientiane. You really are trying so hard to be positive, but Google confirms what you have suspected for the past several weeks – here is officially the most boring city in all of Asia (your emotionally challenging situation isn’t helping).

Step 58: It’s now the afternoon of December 23rd. The embassy will close early for Christmas and not reopen until the 26th or 27th. Your heart is heavy, and your mind is not in the best place, so you head to the workout room in your hotel. Grab your phone to change the Spotify workout playlist, and out of neurotic reflex check your email for the 4,386th time:

Step 59: Ahhhhhhhhh!!!! Totally freak out! You’ve got exactly 90 minutes to pick up the passport at the US Embassy, bring it across the city to the Laos Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and get a replacement exit visa before all of the offices close for Christmas! You grab your family, call a cab, and you’re all out the door in less than 4 minutes!

Step 60: Success! Shiny new passport in hand, your family arrives at the Laos Ministry of Foreign Affairs just 30 minutes before they close! You proudly hand over all the paperwork you’ve spent weeks collecting (police reports, certificate of loss, documentation from the US Embassy, and the new passport). They tell you the exit visa will be ready in 3-5 days.

THREE to FIVE more days?!?!

Nooooooo!!!!

Your family still won’t make it to Indonesia in time to catch the boat!

Step 61: You decide to tell them your flight leaves tomorrow at 9am (17 hours from now). You haven’t technically booked a flight yet, but need a small white lie to make things happen!

Step 62: There’s a quick meeting between several of the employees, some running back and forth between a few buildings, and 20 minutes later your daughter has a replacement Laos exit visa!

Sweet, sweet freedom!

Step 63: Team Silleck for the win! You hop online and buy some last-minute flights (Vientiane -> Kuala Lumpur -> Jakarta -> Sorong, Indonesia). The journey continues – the next morning (Christmas Eve) you board your flight!