No (DSWD) Permit, No Exit

What could be the worst thing that you can do, as a parent, when you’re out of the country and have asked somebody else, a relative or a guardian, to bring your child to you to wherever you are in this world?

No DSWD permit.

Uh oh! (Play music: dan-dan-dan-dannnn….)

When my friends and I decided to climb Mount Kinabalu in Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia, I decided to leave my, then, 6 ½ year old son at home. I just started bringing him to longer trips and I still haven’t gauged how he would fair in mountain climbing. So, instead of dragging him to Kota Kinabalu, I thought of treating my Mom and my brother for a trip to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and bring my son with them. After our Kota Kinabalu leg, my friends and I will take a flight to Kuala Lumpur before heading to Bali, Indonesia. And that time in between the two flights was my only chance of meeting up with my family in KL and getting my son to bring him with me to Bali. Sounds like a perfectly made plan.

Happily parasailing in Manukan Island, Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia

While my friends and I were happily taking turns paragliding on the waters of Manukan Island in Kota Kinabalu, my phone kept ringing and ringing. Of course, I didn’t hear anything over the loud roaring of the speedboat’s engine. It was only when we got back to the island and started packing our stuff did I check on my phone. I had 21 missed calls and 13 unread messages.

All calls and messages were from my brother. Panic washed over me as I read his “please call urgent” and “call this number asap” messages. I quickly dialed his number and my Mom’s but both were out of reach.

I finally got to the very first message that my brother sent. He said that the immigration officer didn’t allow my Mom to leave the country with my son without a DSWD permit.

“What the hell is a DSWD permit?” I asked it out loud enough for my friends to hear as they can see the worry written all over my face. I asked the question again, this time, towards them with a bewildered look.

And if I had a camera pointed at that them during this time, I could have captured a perfect shot of people who are shocked, bewildered, and horrified all at the same time.

“What the hell is a DSWD permit?” I asked again.

And they just replied, “You don’t have a DSWD permit?”

Really now, would I ask the question again and again if I knew what it was?

Finally, they explained to me that a DSWD permit is actually a travel clearance from the Philippine Department of Social Welfare and Development stating that a travelling minor unaccompanied by parent/s is authorized to travel abroad. This was mandated by law to prevent any forms of child trafficking and kidnapping.

I was dumbfounded. How can an obsessive-compulsive detailed travel itinerary plotter of the group miss out on this requirement?

My friends, too, were as dumbfounded as I was. For years, they have trusted me for all the details of our travel itineraries and they could not imagine how in the world I missed out on getting a DSWD permit!

Now, I’m crying. I called up our house since my Mom and my brother’s mobile phones can’t still be reached. The worst thing that could happen, really, is for my family to go back home to Manila.

After about a thousand rings, our yaya answered, relieved to hear my voice. She said that my Mom and my brother called to say that the immigration officer didn’t allow them to leave the country and that they were coming home. The last call my Mom made was over two hours ago.

Devastated, we left Manukan Island to go back to our backpacker’s lodge. I was in tears, I was worried, I was in panic… I had all sorts of different emotions inside me.

Then, my phone rang. It was an unidentified number. I answered the phone hoping it was my Mom’s roaming number calling me that they have landed safely in KL. But it was not.

The call came from the immigration officer from the Diosdado Macapagal International Airport in Clark, Pampanga. He said he was the officer that, initially, did not allow my family to leave the country.

Initially?

Yes. He said he pitied my Mom, as she didn’t really look like a stern grandmother about to kidnap her grandson to begin with. He checked the birth certificate inserted in my son’s passport. He figured if my Mom and I were not in good terms, how else could she acquire a copy of my son’s birth certificate. He said my employment ID was also in my son’s passport. He also checked on all our plane tickets. My son’s return flights were nowhere in my Mom and brother’s tickets. My son’s flights to Indonesia and back to Clark were all on another printed ticket with a list of passengers that includes my name on it. His gut told him that this was no kidnapping incident. That this was just a clear case of one really stupid Mom (but he didn’t really say stupid). But, he could also get fired if he allows this family to leave the country.

He went with his gut.

God bless him.

I thanked him a million times with a promise that I will never miss out on any travel detail again in the future.

He said okay and made me promise that once we reach the airport back in Clark, we should look for him and show ourselves to him. For his own peace of mind, I needed to show him that I did get my son from my Mom and that I came home to the Philippines with him.

I readily agreed.

Barok & Mokong at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport, waiting to board our flight to Bali, Indonesia

A week after, when we arrived in DMIA Clark, I asked around where I could find him so he can see for himself that my son and I were back and that I can personally thank him and give him our simple gift.

Unfortunately, it was his day off.

God bless him still.

To read more about the Philippine Travel Clearance for Minors and how to acquire them (so you don’t end up being like me!), check out the Department of Social Welfare and Development website.