Before I set out for Russia, I had to apply for a visa. Nothing unusual about this, as many countries require a visa for entry. I was going to be here for 16 weeks or thereabouts, and so looked for the most cost-effective visa available. Unfortunately, what I wanted, time-wise, wasn’t an option. I could have spent oodles on a six month business visa, but that was ridiculous. And anyway, the Russian Embassy advised me to get a three month, single entry visa and said that after I’d been in the country a while, I could get it upgraded to a six or twelve month, multi-entry student visa. All well and good.
So I dutifully applied for my three month visa, including all the necessary paperwork: invitation from the host institute (KGU), passport, HIV-negative certificate, return post-paid envelope. After some to-ing and fro-ing, because some of the paperwork wasn’t quite what they wanted, my three month, single entry visa arrived – one week before I left New Zealand. Bit of nail-biting went on in that last fortnight, I can tell you.
Actually, because I was doing a quick plane change in Moscow to get to Warsaw, I was a little concerned that my visa requirements might need an extra entry to Russia. Or worse still, the flights might not connect properly and I would have to spend a night in Moscow because of bad weather or other delays. As it was, I got bumped to a flight three hours after my original one to Warsaw, but got to enjoy the luxuries of Lot Polish Airlines.
Arriving in Kazan, we were told to apply for the student visa one month (1st October onwards) later. I think they figured the serious students would have stayed and the chaff would fly away on what passes for a wind in these parts. This gave us all a chance to settle in, get used to the systems, and them a chance to sort out our first round of problems.
So October duly arrived, and I decided to apply for the student visa. I was a little slow of the mark and completed the necessary paperwork, payments and supply of photos only by 14 October. And then the waiting began. Of course, I didn’t expect the visa to materialise the next day. That would be a dream, even in New Zealand. We were told it would be about two weeks. That made it the end of October. Maybe the beginning of November if the Men in the Ministry were having a bad day.
People’s visas began to arrive in dribs and drabs. I started asking after three weeks, as that seemed reasonable. No, sorry, not here yet, the nice lady in the office said. I wasn’t worried; I still had three weeks on my old one. But hand over your passport, as we’re getting a whole bunch tomorrow and it’s easier to sort things out. In return I got a photocopy of the important bits of mine back. I returned the next day to discover it wasn’t ready. Come back tomorrow, she said.
Tomorrow started to acquire the flavour of mañana, as my passport lingered in the office safe. Where the visa was, nobody knew. The nice lady began to apologise to me every time I opened the door. Try again the day after tomorrow became the standard reply to my question “is it here yet?” Actually, Russian has a word for “the day after tomorrow”, and usually it has a definite meaning, which is, of course, the day after tomorrow. In this case, mañana loomed.
I got used to going to the office and hearing “no, maybe the day after tomorrow”. I started to get concerned. My old visa was due to expire in less than a week. Galina, my landlady, was a bit worried too; what would I do if it didn’t arrive. We didn’t talk about it. The Swiss gent in my class asked, in his slightly stilted English, if “I have yet got my visa”. The two young Scandinavians found his style amusing, and would copy it from time to time.
So, after a bout of food poisoning, a very mild dose of the flu, one huge night’s sleep, rock concert, and a ghastly shock as to the value of the Kiwi dollar (about half that of the US), I returned to the office and a really big shock – my visa had arrived (big drum roll and splash on the cymbals please, Mr Skins). I had been half expecting to have to bribe an MVD (Ministry of Internal Affairs, but in Russian) official for the pleasure of staying here another three-four weeks. But no, only 20RR to cover re-registering where I lived. I had my passport again.
I am no longer living in fear of being deported as an overstayer, or taking circuitous routes home, in case the MVD have me targeted. I don’t know if marrying a Russian would have done anything to improve my chances of staying here long term, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to find out. Finding a bride wouldn’t have been too difficult, but finding one I liked would’ve. Even Broderick Wells has standards. “You have a pulse, and I like that in a woman”, or “You’re breathing, and I’ve always admired that” may be fine sentiments for some, but I try to aim a little higher.
Anyway, now I can stay until mid-December, and cross the border as often as I like. However, the latter involves having the money to cross the border. I’m about 800km east of Moscow. The nearest country to here, not counting the technically independent autonomous republics littering the Russian Federation, is either Kazakhstan or the Ukraine. Both are at least 1200km away. And I’m almost broke. Sigh.
Next post: Got a Hobby?
5 comments:
Marrying a Russian would have got you in a lot of trouble with me.
That certainly was a consideration.
Russian bureaucracy, eh. As for their visa system: if they made it a bit easier, they might get more visitors. OK, nowadays they get a lot of Western currency by selling oil, so that might not be such a huge consideration, but still.
For instance, my last visit to Russia was in 2001, to St. Petersburg. I went there with an Indian and a Russian colleague. (The latter had been born in that city, in a hospital that was the former headquarters of the NKVD, he proudly told us.) In the application form, I had to give the exact days of the planned trip, and the visa I got was valid for exactly those days.
What if I got sick and had to go to the hospital? Or the train broke down on the way back? Or just felt like staying there a bit longer and thus contributing a bit more currency to the Russian economy?
I think that part of this is retalation to the EU for not allowing Russians to visa-free travel. But Europeans just might have a legitimate interest in not making it too easy for Russian criminal leagues to infiltrate Europe.
Still, I was glad to see Piter again. An impressive city.
There's also the constant need to show the passport for any significant transaction. I'm surprised I don't have to show it when I buy a ticket on the town bus.
Would that be because Russians themselves still have to have an internal passport that allows them to live in a certain part of the country, so everyone, Russians included, have to constantly prove their right to be where they are? Just a guess.
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