Synopsis #

Over a period of six months between 2024 and 2025, I detail my experience attempting to apply for the newly-created Japanese Digital Nomad visa. I encounter a poorly implemented set of approval requirements, regional inconsistency between Japanese consulates, and hurdles that would be insurmountable by the average applicant.

I give 110% effort for a visa that, on paper, really isn’t worth the trouble, only to be met with a wall of bureaucracy and ambiguity. I succeed.

Introduction #

The year is 2024. My partner and I are exploring Japan for a brief stint, on my first real vacation since graduating college. It boiled down to an assortment of typically touristy things. We visited the hot spring resorts of Hakone, wandered the streets of Tokyo, and saw the beaches of Yokohama. I spent some extra time alone visiting the southern regions of Japan, including a disproportionate amount of time in Dotonbori scarfing down street food.

Critically, it was the first time I had a real reason to use my Japanese language skills in a nontrivial capacity, navigating public transportation, figuring out road signs, and striking up small talk with strangers. It was a strange and formative experience.

I think being able to explore Japan but not being able to communicate effectively made my partner really dig in her heels and commit to studying the Japanese language more dilligently once we returned home. As she learned at an incredible rate, she eventually decided to apply for a fairly exclusive program at her school to study abroad. With luck, she was accepted and slated to study in Japan for about 3 months.

Around that same time in April of 2024 that the Japan Digital Nomad visa program was approved by the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs. If you’re unfamiliar with the concept of a “digital nomad”, it is in essence a program to incentivize remote workers to live in foreign countries for extended periods of time. Sometimes, digital nomads are double-taxed to redirect some income to the national government. Sometimes, they are invited to increase income through tourism. Other times, they are simply invited to experience the culture a country has to offer, and passively contribute to the economy through their overseas income. In almost all cases, it comes down to money – digital nomads are required to have relatively high income.

Seeing the option to live abroad at the same time as my partner as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I made sure to surface the idea to my manager and skip manager during the interview process while between jobs. Thankfully, both were amenable to the idea.¹

Overwhelmed with the excitement of living abroad, I embarked on what would become a torturous six month journey in the quest to assemble an application and get approved for Japan’s newest visa.

Personal background #

I am a United States citizen, born and raised. As explained, I have been to Japan once before, but only as a tourist. I didn’t really make any real friends (e.g., friends with whom I’d feel comfortable crashing with) while I was there for ~2.5 weeks with my partner. It was mostly sightseeing and the like.

While I live in California at large. I went to school in LA, but I have spent most of my life in the Bay Area. I also have never had to apply for a visa to live in another country or immigrate somewhere.

First impressions #

Let’s get something out of the way: Japan’s digital nomad program is… less than desirable when compared to its peers.

It has a steep income requirement: ￥10,000,000 JPY, or roughly $65,000 USD. As of this writing, that’s around double the national median income of the United States. Thankfully, the median income of software engineers in the United States as of this writing is north of ~$100,000 USD, which readily clears the bar.

It is limited to six months. More importantly, it cannot be renewed within the same year. That is, you can live in Japan for six months, but you have to move back to your home country for six months before you have the opportunity to renew the visa. By comparison, Japanese student visas last up to two years, depending on the program.

Though this sounds short, digital nomad programs tend to have inconsistent durations, so it’s not entirely unexpected. Abu Dhabi² permits an entire year, for example, but New Zealand only permits 90 days. Truly exceptional digital nomad programs, such as Italy, are highly permissive, and allow renewal without returning to your home country. This effectively enables indefinite stay and citizenship by way of naturalization.³

Another key point of specifically Japan’s digital nomad visa: it does not grant you a resident card.

A resident card (tl. 在留カード) is what most foreigners are looking for when living in Japan, since it lets you rent things, sign contracts, open bank accounts, purchase a Japanese cellular plan, and so forth. Consider it your Japanese domestic identification method, whereas your passport is your foreign identification method. A domestic form of identification allows you to take action within the country as though you live there, whereas your passport only allows you to take actions granted to foreigners. It could be compared to a less permissive United States green card. This means that digital nomads in Japan will have to figure out short-term rentals or bum it in hostels and hotels. Of course, you could outright purchase an apartment, but this would have to be an all-cash transaction from a less-than-auspicious realtor.

The digital nomad visa is issued as a single-entry visa. This means that you enter Japan once you plan to start living there, that’s it. I later discovered that you can file a re-entry permit at time of departure in order to temporarily leave the country on your nomad visa, but this was not clear from the outset.

Last point of contention: the program is brand new. Information about it was published in April of 2024, but it wasn’t actually implemented until late that year.

Let me take a quick detour to underscore the expectations of this plan. It is expected that you are a well-paid remote worker, who is able to accommodate the time difference in order to keep said job while living in a foreign country without any way to open a bank account, purchase a cellular plan, or rent an apartment. Most services for ID-less foreigners are designed with the shorter-duration tourist visa in mind. If you are stopped on the street without your passport ready, you may be subject to apprehension by immigration authorities.

The alternative is what everyone else does: work remotely on a tourist visa. Just don’t get caught.

Compared to this, it just seems, on paper, like a very expensive deal with minimal benefits.

Is this thing real? #

It’s October of 2024, and I’m excited to start the visa application process. I haven’t booked my flight yet, but we’re thinking that we leave in March of 2025. This means I have almost 4 whole months that I can use to worry about visa things. I called the consulate servicing (what was at that time) my legal address in San Francisco to inquire.

Automated phone menus such as the one used by the consulate are a wonderful example of dark patterns in UX. I would liken the Japanese consulate’s system to the walls of a castle. There’s endless ways of configuring your defenses to make it impossible for users to find a way in… or escape with their lives.

I called at around 10am that day and was met with a deluge of automated phone menus. After dialing through to the visa department, I was met with a message akin to:

“The visa department is not open to the public. You may drop off applications via mail or our drop-off box.”

The automated system then hung in silence for some time. I hung up and tried again. This time, I carefully navigated through a few submenus to the visa department, and listened to their almost 2-3 minute information message in its entirety. After an exceptionally pregnant pause, I came face-to-face with the minotaur of the labyrinth:

“If you would like to speak to a representative, press 9.”

The phone rang ominously after responding to my DTMF cry for “representative”. I was greeted by the voice of an unhurried, older Japanese man.

“Hi, I’m calling to inquire about application requirements for the Digital Nomad visa!”

“Digital… Nomad…?”

As I tried to explain the concept to the representative, it became apparent that they had no idea it even existed. He kindly informed me, though:

“If you’re an American citizen, you don’t need a visa!”

After hanging up confusedly, I took to the Internet. Is this visa program even real? At the time, the results available when Googling “digital nomad Japan” were sparse, to say the least. The only real information on it was found on travel websites regurgitating the same information from travel.japan. With some patience, I found the Los Angeles consulate’s website, and with it, some progress.

The laundry list #

I clicked around until I found their digital nomad requirements PDF. As the document rendered into view, I realized the sheer volume of documentation you must submit with the application. Paraphrasing with added emphasis and commentary:

• Everything on this link: https://www.mofa.go.jp/ca/fna/pagewe_000001_00046.html
  1. Visa application form (with JP standard passport photo on glossy paper, glued [yes, GLUED] to the page)
  2. Passport (not a copy; they want your actual, physical United States passport)
  3. Certificate of eligibility
     • (Note) If the certificate of eligibility is presented, (4) to (6) below can be omitted.
  4. Documents explaining the applicant’s planned activities and period of stay during their stay in Japan
  5. Documents proving that the applicant’s annual income is JPY 10 million or more.
     • (Note) Tax payment certificate, income certificate, employment contract, contract with a business partner (which clearly states the contract period and the contract amount.)
  6. Documents proving that the applicant has insurance against death, injury or illness during their stay in Japan (compensation for medical treatment for injury or illness must be JPY 10 million or more).
     • (Note) A copy of the certificate of insurance coverage and policy summary, a copy of the credit card and documents proving supplementary compensation.
• Proof of current address (driver license, renter’s insurance, etc.)
• Visa fee (in cash or money order)
• Pre-paid self-addressed return envelope (USPS only)
• Signed release of liability (i.e., if they lose your passport, it’s on you for trusting them)

Now, please note that I omitted the documentation that you are required to submit as a foreigner living in the United States. I am a U.S. citizen, so the information was not relevant, but know there are extra steps in that case. This is a blog post, not authoritative information on Japanese immigration law.

At the bottom of the page linked in the first bullet, you’ll find the following:

(Note) What is a Certificate of Eligibility (COE)?

By presenting Certificate of Eligibility which is issued by a regional immigration bureau, the visa application at the Embassy or Consulate-General and the landing examination at the passport control will be processed smoothly. However, please note that a COE does not guarantee the issuance of a visa. For details, please visit the website of the Immigration Services Agency of JAPAN (Japanese).

This point isn’t particularly descriptive. If you refer to the actual COE application form itself, though, it makes a little more sense. A COE is a supplementary document filled out by your Japanese national immigration sponsor that expedites the Visa issuing process. This could be your future employer, a family member, your host family for a homestay, or an extremely close friend.

Regardless who it is, the applicant must file the paperwork from within Japan (!!). As someone who has almost no real ties in Japan (that’s the whole point of me trying to live there for some time!), a COE was out of the question.

San Francisco’s consulate had other ideas. If you visit their long-term visa page, you’ll find that they imply that every visa application requires a COE:

Working/Long Term Stay (More than 90 days) / Certificate of Eligibility (COE)

When applying for a Visa for the purpose of work, study, or long-term residence.

PLEASE APPLY FOR COE in Japan BEFORE YOU APPLY FOR THE VISA.

So it’s a catch-22. I have no relationships in Japan, so I want to live there to build some. However, to live there to build some, I need to have a deep enough relationship with someone that they’d be willing to sponsor my immigration. How, then, are you supposed to live abroad as a digital nomad?

Reflecting on my supremely unhelpful (but friendly!) conversation with the San Francisco consulate compared to the somewhat-detailed LA consulate documents I found online, I decided to call the LA consulate directly since they seemed to be more familiar with the visa. After carefully tracing my way through yet another maze of phone menus, I was met with a human voice in the visa department. In speaking with them, I was informed that a COE was unnecessary.

If you cock your head and squint, you might be able to make this out of their ambiguous wording in the requirements document.

(Note) If the certificate of eligibility is presented, (4) to (6) below can be omitted.

Read in a particular way, you may pick up that what they meant to say is “a COE is optional. BUT, if you didn’t provide a COE, just do points (4) through (6)”.

Amazing! Even though the SF consulate didn’t have any information about the digital nomad program, I had a contact at another consulate who did. Surely all consulates have identical requirements, so if I followed the other consulate’s instructions, all would be well. Perhaps the older fellow I spoke to was just out of the loop.

Don’t apply too early #

I found another wrench in the process when I checked the consulate’s website and saw their warning not to apply too early. According to the consulate’s visa FAQ, visa applications take about two weeks to process, and once issued, visas are only active for a period of three months. Quoting the relevant parts:

Q6. When should I apply for visa?

…a visa typically must be used for travel within three months; therefore, three months prior to the date of your planned visit to Japan is the earliest that you may apply for a visa. … We cannot accept visa applications more than 3 months prior to a scheduled departure date.

That is, if I got the visa right the very first time, and my flight leaves in March, then I’d want to start applying around early December.

By now, it was around October, so all I had to do was hurry up and wait. In the meantime, I collected all the documents I would need to apply, following the LA consulate’s list to a T.

In that same window of time, I took the opportunity to research what I’d do for housing. If you’re unfamiliar, trying to find housing in Japan as a foreigner is notoriously hard – let alone short-term housing without a resident card. There are many mechanisms that contribute to this difficulty, but for the purposes of digital nomads, here are the big ones:

• You have no resident card. You cannot really sign lease agreements.
• Even if you could, your stay will be too short. Most lease agreements in Japan have a minimum term of around two years.
• At risk of overgeneralizing, there are undercurrents of systemetized xenophobia that persist in Japan to this day.⁴ Some buildings outright refuse to rent to foreigners.
• You have no guarantor, no foreign bank account, and likely no friends. You will have a hard time qualifying for a lease even if you magically found a landlord who’d be willing to rent to you.

What I decided was to roll with one of two big plans. Both had pretty big downsides.

1. Purchase an economy package with APA hotels, Japan’s largest hotel chain. They have short-term stay deals where you pay a flat rate for the month, much like an apartment. You would receive the same cleaning and linen services as the rest of the hotel, and hold the same access to amenities as everyone else! Downside: it’s a hotel, no space to really call your own.
2. Use what’s called a “monthly rental”.⁵ Downside: it’s expensive and you’d probably need to sign the lease before you even set foot in Japan. To make matters worse, lots of the places I was looking at took lump sum payments for the duration of your stay. e.g,. if you’re staying for 3 months, you’d pay all 3 months ahead of time. You’re also flying blind without remote access or some boots on the ground to inspect the unit for you. On the other hand, even the high-end options rent for about $1.5k USD per month, which is still significantly less than a studio in San Francisco.

I am more partial to the second option because it would be a place that I could live and work out of comfortably. There were also some nice options near the train line that my partner would be taking to and from her university.

A few more questions had come up while I was going through the application process, but perplexingly, I couldn’t get a hold of anyone at the SF consulate since that first phone call. Every time I called, I was met with the same automated dialer menu, and I couldn’t seem to figure out which buttons to press in which order to reach the visa department representative.

With no one to answer my questions, I soldiered on.

The first application #

Before I knew it, December had rolled around. It was time for me to apply. I bought my prepaid, self-addressed USPS envelope and stuffed in my visa application form, complete with glue-sticked passport photo; my employment contract, a photo copy of my driver’s license, copies of all my health, life, and AD&D insurance enrollments, a release of liability, my legitimate passport, and the exact application fee of $22 USD in cash. I even printed little divider pages to indicate which documents were intended for each part of the application!⁶ It was a thoughtfully-arranged package of everything a not-so-savvy criminal would need to assume my identity.

I drove into San Francisco for the day and left my application in the consulate’s drop-off box. Just as described by their automated hell maze, the visa windows were closed. When I visited, exactly one window was open, servicing a Japanese national. There was only one other staff member servicing the roped-off consulate, there to ensure people dropped their visa applications off in the correct box, and that no one else got through.

Some hours after dropping my application in the box, I realized I had made a few mistakes in the application. First off, I hadn’t included a description of my planned activities in Japan (first bullet, subpoint four from the previous itemized list). Second, I turned in a sealed self-addressed envelope. They would have to open the now-sealed envelope, potentially destroying the postage I had applied to it! I was not thinking straight with that one.

A flood of anxiety hit me in that moment; what happens if they can’t mail my passport back?

For better or for worse, that question was answered rather expeditiously. I knew I had already made glaring mistakes, and was certain my application was going to get denied. I was just grateful to receive the USPS notification that it had been shipped back to my address.

Sure enough, a few days later, my application showed up in the mail. They had meticulously opened my self-addressed, pre-sealed envelope with a letter opener to prevent damaging the postage, and taped the entire thing down securely. Thank God for that. The postage was USPS Priority – over $10!

As I opened the application to confirm my passport was present, I wondered which of my mistakes had done me in. They had graciously attached a piece of paper indicating what was missing to the front of the packet. On it, an incantation that may as well have been carved in blood:

“APPLY FOR COE BEFORE APPLYING FOR A VISA”

…the COE? #

I thought that wasn’t required! I had spoken with someone in the LA consulate who told me otherwise, what’s going on?⁷

I took to the internet again. It was by this time that the SF consulate’s website had been updated with a sparing amount of information about the digital nomad program.⁸ I went to check it out and see what guidance they had given, and sure enough, they listed the same COE requirement for their other long-term visas as a hard requirement to apply for the digital nomad program. But this is a direct contradiction of what the Los Angeles’ consulate said on their website and told me on the phone! I went to check the LA website, and I was shocked to find they were different after all.

I wasn’t sure what to make of this. How could an international service have local variations in required documentation!? I didn’t know what to do if they’d keep rejecting me because I couldn’t get a COE. I couldn’t use any other consulate since it is based on my place of residence!

At this point, many people would have given up on the process altogether. Some people on Reddit resigned themselves to their fate:

Apparently only MY consulate is requiring a COE for the Digital Nomad (I have called others and they don’t require this). … They let me know they won’t look at any applications that don’t include a COE.

They told me I would have two options.

a) Hire a lawyer …

b) Go there myself and apply for a COE

From: devdasher on r/movingtojapan

But I refuse to surrender, at least not in the face of this adversary; and certainly not when I have another trick up my sleeve. Do you recall that I went to school in LA?

Los Angeles my beloved #

That’s right, my mailing and legal address is in the Bay Area, but I split my time between both Northern and Southern California. At the time, I was bouncing back and forth between both Los Angeles and San Francisco since all my friends from college lived in Southern California, and the rest of my life was still in the Bay. This meant that I technically could use the Los Angeles consulate. All I had to do was add my name to the lease of one of my friends to give myself an address in its jurisdiction.

Adding my name to the lease took about a week or two to process. After purchasing individual renter’s insurance and adding my name to the lease, I updated my application with the new address and mailed it off once again, this time in Los Angeles. Unfortunately, I had not been paying any attention to how much time this cost me. Because I had waited until December to submit my first application out of concern for receiving the visa too early, I had suddenly given myself a much more narrow timeframe to have my application processed.

Before moving on, I want to take a moment to observe that I was only able to do this because I essentially live my life split between two cities that are 300 miles apart. This is an extremely privileged lifestyle that is only achieved because I’m willing to spend/survive on intrastate Spirit flights. Most people (especially homeowners) would not have the ability to readily up and move their residential address to another consular jurisdiction. If you live in the San Francisco consulate’s massive region of jurisdiction and cannot move, you’re screwed. Believe me, I checked – they wouldn’t let me apply unless I lived in the area.

I put everything together and sent off my second application on January 17th (T-55). It was finally delivered to the consulate on the 21st (T-51). I was cutting it close, but it had been over a month of just trying to reorganize my life during the holiday season to give my second application even a shot at succeeding.

I could not have anticipated what a WORLD of improvement this was. About two business days after my application was received at the Los Angeles consulate, they got it almost entirely processed, and even took the courtesy of emailing me the status of my application, informing me of some missing information. No problem, missing information shouldn’t be too big of a deal, I thought.

It turned out that they had an issue with the evidence of insurance I had provided.

I had given them the only information I could readily access that demonstrated I was covered under my employer’s insurance program, which was a PDF export of my complete benefits enrollment through our provider. Not ideal, I know, but like I said, it was the only piece of information I could get my hands on.

Insurance? What for? #

Alright. Now I have to go through my workplace’s benefits provider to get evidence that my life insurance policy covers me for the amount that they’re requesting (at time of this writing, the digital nomad program requires a policy in excess of ￥10,000,000 JPY, or ~$65,000 USD). Gratefully, our workplace benefits and its support staff are absolutely lovely. They messaged me back within 12 hours acknowledging my request, and vendored our certification of employer group life insurance within 24!

I emailed the documents they provided me to the consulate’s visa department on the same day they reached out to me, on January 23rd (T-49). The following day, the consulate wrote back, explaining that my insurance policy was still unclear. Apparently, because the policy said nowhere that it was explicitly active and applicable while traveling abroad, the head office of immigration for Japan had taken issue with it. I clarified that the policy doesn’t say anything about being inactive while traveling abroad, so I thought it would have been acceptable, but it would seem not.

That same day, I put in another support ticket with my benefits provider, asking for assistance in getting a document stating something to the tune of “Leo is covered under this policy even if he dies or loses a limb in another country”. My request was met with a note that I should reach out to my insurance provider directly.

Enter the torment nexus #

And reach out to my insurance provider I did. In the afternoon after lunch, I took some time off work to contact the provider directly.

The preamble #

I looked up their phone number, and gave it a ring.

Now, I want you to read the following carefully, because I have it almost entirely committed to memory at this point, and I’m not typing it out twice in this document.

“Hello, thank you for calling $INSURANCE. Para español, marque el número dos.”

[time passes]

“To help me identify you, please input your Social Security number.”

[input SSN]

“You entered [LOUDLY READS MY SSN ON SPEAKERPHONE]. Thank you. Please state your date of birth.”

[announce DOB]

“Welcome to $INSURANCE. If you are looking to open a policy, press 1. If you are looking to file a claim, press 2. If you are looking to adjust your coverage, press 3.”

[long pause]

“To speak with a representative, press 9.”

[DTMF 9]

“All representatives are currently helping other customers. Please hold.”

[twenty minutes of hold music]

[phone ring]

[noisy background clatter of a full call center]

S: “Hello, thank you for calling $INSURANCE, this is Steve $N.”

Putting aside the absolute hilarity of automatically reading out someone’s SSN at max volume, I would grow all too familiar with this preamble. It played at the start of every single step of the insurance call center experience. Transferred? The preamble plays. Got a phone call after requesting a callback? The preamble plays before you can connect.

I was required to enter my SSN and DOB at least four or five times over the course of that afternoon. While I admire the security by redundancy of this approach, one must wonder about its efficiency.

I would also like to draw attention to the background noise of the call center(s). It was a palpable amount of noise. I could hear other call center employees, folks walking around or writing things down; it all blended together into an incongruent cacophany, demanding the listener’s attention at all times.

Call 1 #

The first Steve I spoke to was quick to correct me of my foolish mistake in calling the publicly-listed phone number for the main branch of the insurance company.

[preamble]

L: “Hi Steve 1, I’m looking to get some documentation about my life insurance policy.”

S: “Are you covered by your employer?”

L: “Yes, I am.”

S: “Then you’ll want to call the phone number for our group insurance branch. I can give you the website for that.”

L: “Please do, thank you.”

S: [reads the FQDN]

L: “I’ll call the number on their website. Thank you.”

Call 2 #

I was verbally redirected to the separate subsidiary of my insurance company. Phone number two, let’s give it a ring.

[preamble]

L: “Hi Steve 2. I’m looking to get some documentation proving that my insurance policy will be active while abroad in Japan.”

S: “Are you covered through your employer?”

L: “Yes, that’s right.”

S: “I see. Unfortunately as a representative, we cannot access any of your insurance documents. Please contact your HR representative directly.”

[call ends]

So I was referred by my benefits provider to the insurance company… Who then referred me back to my benefits provider… Surely this must be a mistake, I thought. I persisted, with the goal of convincing some poor soul at the call center to transfer me to an internal department that could help me.

Call 3 #

I called back the same number, this time under a slightly different pretense to see if it’d get me any further.

[preamble]

L: “Hi Steve 3, I’m having trouble with the online portal for your insurance.

S: “Thank you for calling. Are you covered through your employer?”

L: “Yes, that’s right.”

S: “I see. What sort of problem are you having with our website?”

L: “I’m trying to find a document.”

S: “And what sort of document were you looking for? If it’s not on the website after logging in, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get you anything else.”

L: “Oh, I’m just looking for a document that will prove that I’ll be insured while on a trip abroad.”

S: “I can’t help you with that, but I can transfer you to the claims department. They may know.”

L: “Okay, please do. Thank you.”

S: “You’re welcome.”

I was then transferred to yet another call center for yet another arm of the same company. The call went something like this:

[preamble]

L: “Hi Steve 4, I was transferred to this line through the group insurance center. I’m looking to get a document proving I’ll be insured through my employer while overseas.”

S: “Ah, I can’t help you with that, but I can transfer you to the documents section. They can help you.”

[transfer + hold music]

Ready for yet another round of familiar preamble after over an hour of killing time, I instinctively opened the keypad for my cell phone and readied my dialing finger. The whole world froze in anticipation of my lightning-fast reflexes. Time to show them the true speed of a real™ gamer™.

But this time, the call went a little different. There was no preamble. In fact, there was nothing at all.

[dialtone]

[subtle click]

Upon connection, the first thing that struck me was the absolute silence of the receiver. A quiet and warm shelter against the storm of chatter, I savored the peace for a moment. I could feel my mind slip as I leaned back and let myself fall. A cup of tea, a cat, a blanket by the fire. Compared to the static hellscape of before, it’s beautiful.

I slapped myself; I’ve come too far to break concentration now.

S: “Hello, this is Steve 5.”

…

L: “UH HELLO! SORRY, I WAS TRANSFERRED HERE FROM A CALL CENTER. Sorry.”

…

L: “Oh!– Right, sorry, I am looking to get a document that shows that I will be insured overseas.”

S: “…Are you covered by your employer?”

L: “Yes, that’s right.”

S: “I’m going to transfer you to the correct line.”

L: “Oh. Okay, thank you.”

…

While the dialtone rang out, I had some time to process what had just happened. Then, before I could fully form the thought–

“Hello, thank you for calling $INSURANCE. Para español, marque el número dos.”

Thrown out back into the blistering thunderstorm. I had been punked.

I entertained the idea a bit, though. Maybe this time would be different.

“Thank you for calling $INSURANCE. Our call centers are currently closed. Our regular business hours are Monday through Friday, 8 to 7 Eastern Standard Time.”

A blatant slap in the face. I set the phone quietly down on the table and read the time. 4:30pm.

A prayer to the HR gods #

Clearly, I wasn’t going to get anywhere with the insurance company without gaslighting every call center employee into transferring me to someone important, and then carefully playing my conversation cards with the internal department like a shitty dating sim.

I was getting dangerously close to my wit’s end, but I had one more trick in my back pocket. When I spoke with my benefits provider before venturing into the maze of call centers, I was told that if reaching out directly failed, my benefits provider could coordinate a meeting between a representative, their internal contact at the life insurance provider, and myself.

I reached out and informed them I’d have to take advantage of that opportunity at their earliest discretion, which would have to be sometime in the following week, since the benefits company was taking a long weekend.

At this point, I was dreading the timeline implications that this entire process bodes for the application. A note like the one the consulate seems to be looking for will have to get OK’d by the insurance company’s legal department, no doubt. With all the litigation that life insurance companies conduct, I can’t imagine my small-fry request would get processed in no less than a week, though.

A bit shook from the experience, I reached back out to the visa section three days later, on the 30th (T-42), to update them with my findings. Feeling apprehensive about the timeline of my visa approval running over my departure flight, and a growing frustration with the opacity of the entire process, I inquired as to how long they anticipated the visa would take to get back to me once all documents are in-hand, as well as what exactly they were expecting of me. Their reply was less than encouraging:

“It is hard to say for sure if you will be approved for your visa by your departure date in March. In general, it takes about a month to get an answer … once you have a complete application.”

Panic #

Terrified at the prospect of losing the money I had spent on the flight, or otherwise having my plans delayed, I began to search for answers in a sleep deprived state late on Thursday night.

I tried to poke holes in my assumptions – what had we miscommunicated when it came to insurance? One thing that came to mind was the phrasing of their insurance requirement. They want an insurance policy that has supporting documentation, stating explicitly that I will be insured in the destination country for the duration of the trip. There really aren’t that many solutions to that, short of having my insurance company draft up a brand new document, I thought.

Hang on. Could they have meant travel insurance?

People online had mentioned travel insurance, but that didn’t check out with what I thought they meant in the MOI’s requirements list. I decided that given the insecurity around the fate of my trip as it stood, it would be worth it to purchase travel insurance regardless.

Unfortunately, I must not have been seeing straight at 12:30am that evening, because when I purchased the ~$100 USD tier policy, I did not set the correct city for my new, Southern California address through its confusing UI. So, the policy was made out to some sorry soul named Leo living in A A R P, wherever that is.⁹

I was fed up with everything at this point, and my visa was supposedly going to take a month to process even once they received all the proper paperwork. I looked on the insurance company’s website, and found that they had a 14 day refund policy, so in the name of expediency, I just bit the bullet and bought a SECOND policy that night, with the intent of refunding the first as an accidental purchase.

When the following day, the 31st (T-41), arrived, I took my time getting into the work day. Then at lunchtime, yet again, I allocated some time to handle the immigration procedures. I first canceled the first policy I had mistakenly purchased by contacting the agency via phone. I then rung up the Los Angeles consulate to find out whether travel insurance was, in fact, what they were looking for.

Somehow, I remembered how to navigate the maze of menus and reach a real human like I did so four months ago.

L: “Hello, I was calling to ask about what kind of insurance is necessary to apply for the digital nomad visa.”

S: “Could I ask your city of residence?”

L: “Sure, it’s $CITY.”

…

S: “Are you perhaps Mr. Krashanoff?”

Oh no. They knew me by name.

L: “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry about the flurry of documents I’ve been sending you. I’m confused about what sort of evidence you need from me; I’ve been sharing everything I can from my insurance company.”

S: “Yeah, you sent me a document with about 50 pages, and it’s not clear whether your insurance will cover you while abroad.”

But I thought they had wanted the complete documents so that it is clear I am not just falsifying them? Strange. The following conversation hung entirely on the following paraphrased point:

S: “Most applicants purchase a separate insurance plan just for traveling to Japan. You sent us the one that you got from your employer, which I don’t think we’ve seen before.”

[I tell them about my travel insurance and share the policy with them]

S: I see. The travel insurance you got looks alright, but the AD&D amount isn’t enough. It’s only $25,000 USD.”

What the hell?! So it WAS travel insurance this entire time! They just never spelled it out, and I had been running circles for no reason. Recall the checklist item for insurance in their official documentation online:

6. Documents proving that the applicant has insurance against death, injury or illness during their stay in Japan (compensation for medical treatment for injury or illness must be JPY 10 million or more).
   • (Note) A copy of the certificate of insurance coverage and policy summary, a copy of the credit card and documents proving supplementary compensation.

Again, if you cock your head and squint, you can infer they mean “any insurance at all, even travel insurance”, but I still feel this uses quite possibly the most imprecise terms available. Perhaps the intent is to keep it open-ended, and most applicants are expected to use travel insurance as a workaround?¹⁰

But I digress. I guess they meant travel insurance this whole time, which is fine, but now I have another problem: the AD&D amount covered by the travel insurance is allegedly insufficient. I apologized for all the headaches I was no doubt causing,¹¹ bid the consulate employee farewell, and embarked on a search for travel insurance with more extensive AD&D.

In the amount of ￥10,000,000 JPY #

Yet here arose another problem: no travel insurance I can find covers AD&D in any amount greater than $50,000 USD. Mind you, the compensation for injury or illness they state is a minimum of ￥10,000,000 JPY (about $65,000 USD). That’s a lot of money for a travel insurance policy!

To make matters worse, were I to pay for travel insurance that covers me up to $50,000 USD, I would have to pay a staggering $2,000. That’s a boatload more than the one I paid for that provided up to $25,000 USD of coverage.¹²

But, I was too deep in at this point, so I thought I’d try giving my existing plan a call, and then look for a third-party one.

I spoke with my current plan’s company representative to much success. They were very up front with me and stated that the plans they offered were not adjustable, which I infer is due to their agreement with the underwriting insurer. This was what I expected. I hung up, but kept my coverage since I had already shared it with the consulate at this point.

Let’s get back to the “boatloads more expensive” plan I mentioned. My thought process was that if any company would be willing to broker a slightly more expensive plan, it’d be theirs, since they were charging a pretty significant premium compared to competing insurance organizations. My ask was not that much more than their existing $50,000 USD per-person plan; perhaps we’d be able to work out a $70,000 USD AD&D solution.

I want to note that in the above screenshot, the plan states it will cover up to $50,000 USD of AD&D, with $100,000 USD maximum of coverage if you include another person. This does not necessarily imply that the plan could be adjusted to cover up to $100,000 USD on a single person.

I ended up opting for a cheaper travel insurance package through HeyMondo (not sponsored, and yes, they’re poorly named). My plan came out to about ~$100 USD for the total timeframe. This was using the only travel insurance search websites I could realistically find on short notice.

Again, the service representatives from this company were exceptionally helpful. They were expedient in answering my questions and transferred me appropriately. They were again quite up front that the plan limits were not adjustable, and agreed it was confusing that the consulate was being so specific. Feeling I had exhausted my search, I abandoned the lead.

An official alternative? #

It was while I was searching around for insurance options that I stumbled upon the official Japanese National Tourism Organization, which had a travel insurance policy for – miraculously – ￥10,000,000 JPY exactly!

Unfortunately, if you attempt to access this website from the States, you’ll be faced with the following wonderful page:

No problem, I have a VPN. I’d have to imagine that the ordinary traveler would not, though, so this is yet another prohibitive barrier to entry. I navigated to the page and was able to start filling out the form. Okay! This seems promising!

…until I noticed their disclaimers.

I can’t purchase their official insurance for the six month duration since the company covers a maximum of 31 days. I had found myself at a deeply disatisfying juncture.

Faced with defeat #

Phew. And with those seven-to-eight thousand words, we’ve finally caught up to where I am now as of this writing: February 1st (T-40). I have reached a point where I need to assign “my last straw”, because the more time I sink into this visa, the more negatively it impacts my determination to finish the process, let alone live in Japan. In fact, the more time that passes, the more of the bad I see in the visa and the idea of living abroad.

Even were I to get the OK and my application start processing as I write this, the likelihood that I receive my visa before my flight is slim. There are only six weeks between now and my flight, and there are three holidays, meaning there are only 26 business days to process things. It could work, but it’d be a narrow margin since they’d have to mail my passport back to me.

So I’ve given myself an ultimatum to protect my mental health and my own perspective of Japan. If, by this time next week (meaning February 7th, 2025), I have not made any tangible progress in receiving authorization to travel abroad, I will abandon the process and reclaim my passport.

I thought it prudent at this point to reflect on my own experience, lessons, and learnings up to this point.

On my mental state #

I have, throughout my life, come to several critical points where I have worked hard for a period of about six months to a year, nearly finishing something, before stopping for a long while out of immense stress. This is one of the traits that I loathe the most in myself. I am often able to push through these periods, but they represent times where I feel my most vulnerable and unstable. I am also often exhausted since I must exercise significant self-control to maintain composure. It is an intense ebb and flow of self-loathing and unbecoming. This represents one such period, as I am at the precipice of giving up on the application process.

I find myself wondering if this visa is even real. There are individuals online who have been approved before, from many walks of life, and from many different countries. Did I just get supremely unlucky with this entire process?

On my relationship with my partner #

At risk of making this far too personal, I have been in long-distance relationships before. I can’t say any was particularly great; distance places a very unnatural constraint on how people interact. Now that there is a very real possibility of not going to Japan with my partner for the duration, I worry greatly about how our relationship will fare in the coming months, as well as how we will navigate staying in touch on a 13 hour time-difference.

On immigration at large #

Overall, this has been my first real experience dealing with immigration officials in a foreign country, and it has given me a greater appreciation for those who immigrate to the United States in hopes of a better life, better employment opportunities, or for asylum. I realize that the process is expedited through employers and their immigration lawyers, but regardless, it is an arduous process that should not be wished upon another human.

…only to be met with victory #

Some days later, I received an email from my employer’s HR representatives. The document I requested had been produced without issue. I opened my copy of the employer’s group life insurance certificate to find that two words had been added to two sentences in the document.

…in the United States and Japan…

That was what they were looking for. I forwarded the document immediately, much to the dismay of the consulate representatives I had been bothering, no doubt. In fact, they were anything but communicative from this point on, it was complete radio silence.

Radio silence, that is, until I received my prepaid USPS envelope in the mail. It was so soon after I forwarded my updated information that I thought it must have been a fluke, but inside was my passport with a full-page Japanese visa.

Now, as I finish writing this blog post from a dingy little one-bedroom in Tokyo, working nights and living sleepless days, I struggle to recall any of the stressful points of this journey. All that’s left is a sense of adventure.

Contact #

This was an exhausting process to go through. It is incredibly opaque and there are several nonobvious pitfalls for first-time applicants. If you have any information that may have benefitted me while going through the application process, want to complain to me about how I should have spent more due dilligence in researching the Japanese-language application materials, or have questions for me about application specifics as you go through it yourself, feel free to contact me at hello@krashanoff.com.

I may not be able to reply to all messages, but I promise I will try my best.

Be well.

– Leo