Before coming to Iran, I know that I will have to stay longer in Tehran for all those crazy visa application.
Tehran is absolutely not a place to hang out.
OK! I arrived in Tehran at night on 29/6/11, which is Wednesday. When I wake up next morning, of course it is Thursday, but it is the day of Mission of Prophet Hazrat-e Rassol Akram…well, I have totally no idea about the day but I know it’s a public holiday. Then there come Friday and Saturday, which are weekends in Islamic country. Everything is closed and of course the embassies as well. I can only start to apply visas on Sunday. That means 3-day time I need to kill in Tehran.
2/7/11(Sat)
Luckier than worse, the Pakistani embassy is open on Saturday. Ok! Ok! I already know that things have changed as they have stopped issuing visa in host country. You have to apply for it in your home country. But as stubborn as a cow, I still want to give it a try as I know that few travelers(very few) got it successfully.
So, I made a call there using the hostel phone. The operator said no but then passed the line to visa department after I begged him. Nobody was there. The operator asked me to call back after half an hour. I checked the time and it was 9.40am. Apparently all the consular officers are the same – lazy, arrogant and bureaucratic. I don’t know what happened to me at that moment as I was too naive and stupid to have thought that since the operator lets me spoke with the person-in-charge, the light is likely on. So, I didn’t wait to make another call and rushed out to the embassy, empty-stomach, only to find out that I only know half the way to get there. Then that morning saw me running and asking here and there, helplessly, before getting myself stranded in the Metro station, totally frustrated. I have the embassy address written in Farsi but I still refused to take a taxi.(I’m indeed incorrigible!). Then I went to a grocery shop to buy a telephone card to make a call at a public telephone booth. The person-in-charge answered and apologized to me for not being able to help – that means NO! He hung up the phone before I could make any further attempt.
So, I was denied a Pakistani visa.
3/7/11(Sun)
By ruling out Pakistan, that means I have to make a big loop by venturing to those ‘Stan’ countries in Central Asia to make my way to China where it is still feasible to enter Pakistan at Sust via Karakoram Highway. (I’m in an overland trip. I don’t fly). That also means that my journey back home was ‘delayed’ for another few months. Damn it!
So, now is the turn for Afghani-STAN, Turkmeni-STAN, Uzbeki-STAN, Tajiki-STAN and Kyrgyz-STAN. (I’m still not sure whether to travel to Afghanistan but what’s wrong by getting the letter on hand beforehand?). (Applying for a transit visa for Turkmenistan doesn’t need a letter). (Malaysian doesn’t need a visa to enter Kyrgyzstan).
So I went to Malaysia Embassy this morning to beg for some letters called Identification Letter(Malay: Surat Pengesahan). The owner of the hostel I stayed was too confident to tell me on how to get there where in fact nobody knows that apparently there have been some new stations of Metro put in service. With a combination of Metro-Bus-Walk and of course asking and running, I finally made my way to the embassy, sweltering like hell.
As bureaucratic as Malaysia’s government, the people in the embassy let me waited for half an hour long before our third secretary revealed himself to meet me. After some exchange of greetings, he asked me to come back tomorrow. See! Just a letter and I still have to bear with the bureaucracy and inefficiency of our own embassy. What a shame! The Japanese and Korean got their letters within half an hour time and sometimes they were even offered a breakfast!
The subsequent afternoon saw me trying to locate the Tajikistan Embassy, Uzbekistan Embassy and China Embassy, on foot, which I have finally succeeded after a 4-hour of ill-fated walking under the scorching hot sun in the chaotic, crowded and dusty northern district of Tehran.
Phew~~ I salute to myself!
4/7/11(Mon)
Despite having shown up late in the Malaysia Embassy this afternoon due to getting confused(or over-confident?) of the metro and bus route, finally, all the Identification Letters were in order. After finding the content of those three letters literally not convincing where there is no directory addressed to any particular embassy but a line of To Whom It May Concern, I was told that those are standard letter. Everything would be fine.
I have no choice but to put the letters in my bag, precariously, not forgetting to ridicule myself: Haha…What a Malaysia standard!
5/7/11(Tue)
A long queue of Afghan refugees was snaking along the shaded path across the street when I arrived in Afghanistan Embassy this morning. I never see such a huge crowd in any of the embassies I visited in my life!
First of all, I wasn’t ready for Afghanistan. The main reason I was here is to ask around and to check the possibility and perhaps is there any travel warning for those who wish to travel to Afghanistan.
I’m still struggling and switching between going and not going.
There are lots of travel posters stapled on the information boards, including some intriguing photos showing the exoticism of Afghanistan.
While some Afghans tried to talk with me in Dari/Pashto/Farsi having thought that I’m one of their kind(OK! OK!...I know I looked like a Hazara), I found myself too naïve and superficial to have ‘finally’ ascertained the trip there in such an emotional way. I thought I can blend in the society there easily.
The Consul Officer, an Afghan lady, is very friendly and helpful. I was convinced that getting an Afghan visa is as easy as chips, provided that you have the letter from your embassy. While it is just a piece of cake to get the letter from my embassy, I failed to draw a conclusion as whether my embassy is very helpful or it just doesn’t really care about the safety of its citizens.
While having confirmed the possibility of being granted an Afghan visa, it’s time to rush to the Uzbekistan embassy. While running out of time and yet still insisting on my ‘No Taxi’ principle, I rush to the nearest bus top as soon as stepping out from the Qeytarieh Metro station, only to find out that nobody can guide me to the Uzbekistan embassy, in any form of public transportation other than taxi. Everybody asked me to charter a taxi. Then an Iranian guy brought me to his friend who eventually squeezed a IR 100,000 cash note into my pocket and urged me to take a taxi, despite my strongly refusal . (Don’t get me wrong! I really appreciate all kinds of help but not money. I just want a bus). Without further hesitation, I got in the front seat of a cab before a lacerated sound stunned me – Oh my God! It’s my pant! My pant cracked.
Damn it! That was the second time my pant gets torn! An approximately 30 cm tear line, right between my inner thighs, at this critical juncture!
What can I do? What do you think I could do?
Of course I could do nothing. I let the driver brought me to the embassy, telling myself today was not my day. It wasn’t until I paid the taxi driver and saw him driving away that I was informed by the diplomatic police that I should go to the consular office, approximately 2km uphill from where I stood. With my torn pant, I rushed to the main road the police showed me, on foot, only to find out that I failed to locate it! I kept on asking and begging around and again, nobody can guide me! I rushed back to the police again, can’t help looking at my watch from time to time, before he managed to write an askew English letter on my palm. It’s 4th street.
I almost succumbed to the exhaustion before hunger struck me relentlessly.
I salute to myself for not being passed out on the street.
To make my day worse, it wasn’t until I eventually made my way to the consular office at 11.45am, wheezily, that I was told that by procedures, I need to fill up the visa application form online and print it out. The lady was about to leave and asked me to come back tomorrow. I begged her to spare some mercy and she finally agreed to wait for me for 15 minutes. Oh, thanks God!
Then I rushed out again, in total craziness, trying to locate a nearest coffeenet. (It’s really not easy to find a coffeenet in Iran!). After half an hour of asking and searching around and I still couldn’t find any coffeenet, I gave up.
Hmmm…when I said giving up, well, I don’t really mean it.
I eventually found a tiny coffeenet in a basement after 45 minutes of walking. Upon walking out from the coffeenet with my printed visa application form on hand, I found myself walking towards the direction of the consular office, still wanting to give it a try.
I’m really incorrigible!
It was 1.00pm when I reached the consular office. To my surprise, the lady was still there. I almost burst out of tears even she reprimanded me for taking so long time. I almost wanted to give her a hug if not because of the wall!
So, Uzbekistan visa was finally applied.
I don’t know if God is standing by my side today.
Perhaps.
6/7/11(Wed)
Spare a 10-minute time with you in the Tajikistan embassy and your Tajikistan visa should be ready to pick up after 4 days.
Note: Siow Ling and her husband have made their way to Uzbekistan now…and I’m still in Middle East!
No comments:
Post a Comment