A stupid laowai gets his crucial tax document the hard way

Every now and then, just as I think I've learned how to get along in China using my short list of rudimentary Chinese expressions, along comes a situation proving that I'm still a stupid laowai.

Yes, I admit it: s-t-o-o-p-i-d.

I knew this, of course, deep down in my soul, but I can usually mask the fact so long as nothing very complicated comes up. When it does, the urge to do something wrong can be overwhelming, even though I have plenty of Chinese friends nearby to help me avoid problems.

My wife, who is endlessly patient, is first among those who, on a regular basis, save me from myself. She has that classic Chinese way about her that makes me feel as though I'm in charge, even though it's perfectly clear that she is.

And so when the fateful day came on which I was required to go to the government tax office for an official document showing my taxes paid to date, I didn't worry. She would help me.

Actually, I had done this by myself two or three times in the last six years, and even though I don't speak Chinese, I knew I could figure out how to take a number and sit in a chair until called.

I wasn't worried. It's child's play, right? China Daily had even provided an email with the correct address of the tax office, written in Chinese characters, to show the taxi driver. In addition, my wife wanted to get out of the house. So I was covered－or so I thought.

Of course, I knew perfectly well where the tax office was, so I really didn't need to refer to the convenient email that had been provided. But I showed it to the taxi driver anyway. When he tried to turn right, I corrected him and made him turn left; and when he tried to turn left, I made him go right. He gave me a strange look, but he dutifully followed my instructions.

Eventually, we arrived at the familiar tax office near Taiyanggong Park, and went inside. Haha! See, I'm not so stupid after all!

Wrong! The place was dizzyingly unfamiliar. The old processing desks had vanished. Seems certain tax functions had moved to a new office north of the Fifth Ring Road.

Oops.

With 20 yuan ($2.80) wasted on the taxi ride, I had to pony up 40 more to get to the new tax office.

I had heard that the government was making things easier for foreigners, so when I went inside I immediately looked for bilingual signs. There weren't any.

As I bumbled around, lost in translation, I felt a familiar tug on my elbow. My wife smiled lovingly and steered me toward a row of QR codes. She motioned for me to scan one of them on my phone to get an electronic number.

The app seemed to work fine, but it was all in Chinese. So I fumbled and bumbled with my phone as my wife stretched to see the screen－that is, until she got sick of waiting and just grabbed it and started tapping away.

Seems you must enter a Chinese ID number to get a place in line using the app. I'm glad my wife had such a number and that she was there to shepherd me through the bureaucratic jungle. (For example, the app listed the wait time at every window in helpful Chinese characters. But what's a laowai to do without English instructions?)

We sat down together and waited to be called. But then my wife lit up with inspiration. She grabbed my phone and scrolled through the list of windows. Seeing one with no wait, her fingers fairly flew－tap-a-tap-a-tap! Seconds later, we were summoned to do our business.

While no officials in the front office spoke English (strange for a foreigner-friendly operation), the woman at the processing desk thankfully did, and so my mission was completed in short order.

And then came the long taxi ride home－for another 40 yuan.

I now look at all the money I wasted on this project as an assessment of what's known as a "stupid tax"－the price one pays for making dumb mistakes. There must be a moral to this story. I'm open to witty suggestions. Meanwhile, I recommend that foreigners in need of tax records take along a Chinese escort. And let the taxi drivers do their job.

And if you go solo, you can get a paper number when getting in line at the tax office, thereby avoiding the fearsome Chinese app.

Yes, as I found out later, these old-fashioned items are indeed available, though it's not exactly easy to get one. It helps if you speak Chinese.

Good luck.