Visas - the easiest and the toughest

The gate to the embassy slowly opened. "All Indians! Run! Run! RUN!" shouted the Malay security guard with a sardonic grin on his face. What ensued was a stampede. I was applying for a visa to enter Malaysia in their High Commission in Singapore.

"Take a seat," said the receptionist. She asked, "Would you like some coffee?" I was waiting to meet the Manager of a factory manufacturing automotive parts in a suburb of Chennai, a city in southern India. He was also the Honorary Consul for Madagascar. To enter Madagascar, most Western passport holders could get a visa-on-arrival. But Indians had to apply for a visa in advance. So, I waited to meet the Honorary Consul. I entered his office. He was a middle-aged Malagasy gentleman wearing a crisp white shirt and a blue tie. 

He asked, "So, you want to visit Madagascar?" I replied, "Yes." "Have you brought your passport?" he asked. I gave it to him. He swiped my passport on a reader on the keyboard of his computer. The printer attached to it printed out a visa sticker. He stuck the visa on my passport. He handed me my passport and said, "Have a pleasant trip." "How much do I have to pay?" I asked. He said, "Nothing. It's gratis!" That's the easiest visa I have gotten in my life.

"Eight francs," she said. For $9, I was getting one cup of coffee! I was on the high-speed train from Zurich, Switzerland to Milan, Italy. I got off at Sargans, the last station in Switzerland before the train entered Italy. From the train station, I walked to the bus station to catch a bus going to Vaduz, the capital of the tiny but wealthy Principality of Liechtenstein. "Show me your passport," said the young woman, who was the driver of the bus. She did not ask for the passports of the other passengers, who were all white. She said, "You need a visa stamp," examining my Indian passport. "I will drop you at the post office," she said, adjusting her Armani sunglasses.

The post office in Vaduz would issue my visa. The ticket cost $30 for the 30-minute bus ride. A dollar a minute! That's how she could afford the Armani sunglasses. There was one single, elderly woman who looked Arabic in the tiny post office. She glanced through my passport and said, "20 francs ($23)." She stamped my passport and asked, "Do you want a doner kebab? I am going to have one." I said, "Where are you from?" She replied, "Eastern Turkey." It was lunch time and she made a doner kebab, that was one of the best I have ever had. She didn't charge me a penny for it.

The fastest visa that I have ever got is perhaps that of Benin in West Africa. It's an e-visa issued online to most nationalities, including Indians. I completed my application, uploaded all the required documents, paid the visa fee and clicked on the "Submit" button. In about 30 seconds, I got an email with the visa attached! The Vietnam visa was also an online e-visa, but it asked me a strange question. They wanted to know my religion. It's the only country where I have ever been asked about my religion.

In the late 1990's, I used to work and live in Los Angeles. I had planned a trip to Russia and had applied for a visa in their consulate in Los Angeles. I was informed that I would get the visa in about a week. Just 24 hours before my departure, I get a call from the consulate, "You need to give a Tourist Confirmation Letter." I had to get it from a Russian travel agency. The Russians have updated their website and this is what it says: a Tourist confirmation letter (a copy can be submitted) issued by a Russian tour operator (registered in the Unified Federal Register of Tour Operators under a unique reference number). It should contain all the passport details of the tourist (full name, date of birth, sex, citizenship and passport number), duration of stay (date of entry and exit), number of entries granted by the visa, full contact details of the Russian tour operator, its reference number (“MBT”), list of the cities to be visited, accommodation details, signature of the head of the tour agency, the organization’s official seal.

 I spoke to my friend, Boris, who had emigrated to the U.S. from the U.S.S.R. He gave me the contact details of a Russian owned travel agency in the U.S. They arranged for the letter, through an agency in Russia. Of course, it cost me $125 for the letter. I got the Russian visa, just in time for my flight. 

It was 4:30am when I got into the taxi from my home in Singapore. I was headed to the Malaysian High Commission. In the mid-1990's, I used to work and live in Singapore. On weekends, I used to explore Malaysia, to escape from plastic Singapore. There was already a line in front of the closed gates of the embassy. Almost everyone in the line was an Indian. The man standing next to me said, "They give out only 100 tokens every day." I counted. I was 56th in the line. The man said, "There is no point in counting. The line will disintegrate." And that's what happened. One person broke the line and went to the front. Another person joined him. Pretty soon, the line vanished. It was just a mob, waiting for the gates to open. Lining up in a queue is anathema to Indians. The gates slowly opened at 8am.

"All Indians! Run! Run! RUN!" shouted the Malay security guard with a sardonic grin on his face. What ensued was a stampede. I could not get a token. I returned home without a visa. I went again the next day. This time, when the gates opened, I pushed, shoved and fought my way through the mob. I snatched a token. The number on the token was 87. I got a Malaysian visa valid for 28 days. Fortunately, the Malaysian visas were multiple entry visas. Believe it or not, every 28 days, I used to repeat this!

When I was in Los Angeles, I had planned a trip to Estonia and tried to apply for a visa in the Estonian consulate. The visa officer listened to me and said, "We are not giving visas to Indians." She refused to give me a reason. She just flatly refused to accept my application form. I asked her for a solution. She said that I could try in Finland. I might get a visa. I went to the Finnish consulate and got a visa in a matter of a few minutes. I flew to Helsinki. I took a taxi and reached the Estonian embassy. They accepted my application form and asked me to pick up the visa at 4pm. When I went back at 4pm, I got my passport back with a rejection note. I spoke to the visa officer and he said, "We don't give visas to Indians." Again, he refused to give me a reason. That was my first visa rejection. 

Another visa that got rejected, was that of Jordan. The application form wanted to know the name, date of birth and place of birth of my father, mother, paternal grandfather, paternal grandmother, maternal grandfather and my maternal grandmother. I did not know the place of birth of my paternal grandmother. All that I knew was that she was born in 1904. Since my father and mother had already passed away, there was no way that I could find out. So, for her date of birth, I just wrote '1904'. And for her place of birth, I left it blank. The visa got rejected. The rejection note gave the reason as 'Incomplete information for paternal grandmother'. My friends said that I should just have entered a date and place. How would they have verified?

A recent visa rejection was that of Iran. I wanted to use a land border to enter Iran. So, I thought of flying into Baku, Azerbaijan, spending a few days there and then travelling southwards to the Iranian border. The reason I wanted to use that border was because it is a notorious border. There were supposedly American, Russian and Iranian intelligence agents and recruiters, money exchange scammers and other unsavoury characters over there. I wanted to see what happens. But the visa got rejected. I surmise that it was due to the U.S. Green Card stamp in my passport. The rejection note said, "Apply through a local sponsor in Iran." I do not know a single person in Iran, so that was out of question. 

An interesting visa rejection was that of United Arab Emirates. I was living in Los Angeles and wanted to visit the UAE on a trip back to India. I had booked my flight tickets on a UAE based airline and had opted for visa processing through them. The 9/11 terrorist attack had just then happened and the U.S. had banned the entry of Arab nationals. Two weeks had passed after applying for my visa and I did not hear back from the airline. So, I went to their office in Los Angeles. 

I met a young Arab woman who was wearing a T-shirt with the words "THE PRETTIEST" emblazoned across her chest. I asked her, "What is the status of my visa?" The Prettiest answered, "We are not issuing visas to Americans." I said, "I am an Indian. I am not an American." The Prettiest said, "You pay taxes in America. So, you are an American." I said, "Arabs are allowed to enter India. There is no ban on them." The Prettiest adamantly repeated, "We are not issuing visas to Americans."

 I have never re-applied for the visa of a country, that had rejected my visa. I have no desire to go to those countries. There are plenty of countries in the world. I would rather go to Madagascar again.

Which is the easiest visa that you have got? Which was the toughest?

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Have you read my previous blog? Click on this link to read my blog on crossing land borders, "A bend in the border": http://kodavarthi.blogspot.com/2021/01/a-bend-in-border.html

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