Another trip to a former Soviet Republic, another adventure at the border.
I was originally scheduled to fly out of Almaty to Frankfurt early on 25 March. Plans changed and I pushed back my departure to 01:50 on 26 March. Although my Kazakhstan transit visa was valid through 25 March, my Kyrgyzstan tourist visa was valid through 23 April. Under a 2007 bilateral agreement visas are valid for egress in both counties, meaning my Kyrzyk visa was valid for entrance and exit into Kazakhstan and vice-versa.
One report after another verified this law on Lonely Planet so with numerous reports of success and no reports of failure, I did not worry about it, deliberating deciding not to get to the airport before midnight on 26 March just to play it safe. That would prove to be a costly choice, though I would not label it a blunder or error knowing what I did at the time.
Almaty is, well, not much of a city, but I did have an exceptional stay at the Intercontinental Almaty (review coming) and part of that great service included a complimentary shuttle to the airport in a private van with my own butler onboard–a jovial lad named Roman–to serve refreshments and keep me company during the 20 minute journey to the airport. Never had that before, but it was better than sitting in silence.
I checked in for my Lufthansa flight, then proceeded to immigration (time was now 00:20) where a female agents took my passport, adjusted a camera to snap my picture, then began typing away. She typed and typed, then raised her stamp and froze…
Still carefully examining my visa, she says, “This good 25 March. Today 26. You have other visa?” I point to the Kyrzyk visa on the next page and she shakes her head and gets up to fetch a supervisor–her English skills were very limited.
A portly woman (think Kazakh version of the Wendy’s Choice commercial at 0:10) in a green uniform far too tight for her walks over. She speaks English, but is not in a good mood. She shakes her head and tells me my visa is no good. I explain to her that that my visa from Kyrzgstan is valid for almost another month and that under a 2007 law it should allow me to enter and exit Kazakhstan.
She shakes here head, saying I was wrong. I tell her I am absolutely correct and reach into my bag for my laptop, where I had downloaded a version of the law in Russian. She stops me and suddenly “remembers” the law, but says my visa does not apply because it isn’t a tourist visa.
I open my eyes wide and say, “Of course it is a tourist visa. I just got it a few days ago.” Nope–it is a “private visa” she says. That is ridiculous–a private visa is issued for relatives or friends who receive an invitation from a local. I don’t know any locals or have in friends in Kyrgyzstan.
She’s done with me and hands me off to a supervisor and this is where the fun starts. The soldier, who could not have been more than 30 years old, looks at my visa, shakes his head, and says, “Your visa is cancelled. You are not flying. Go back to your embassy.”
My mouth drops and I begin to plead with him. I try explaining the reciprocal visa recognition act to him, but he’s not listening. I pull the Bambi eyes look, tell him I am a student who needs to get back to class, and plead with him to help me out.
With a gleam in his eyes, he leans toward me and whispers, “There might be a way.”
<silence>
I look at him, he looks at me, and I say, “And what may that be?” knowing full what is going on.
He whispers, “Go the bathroom. Make sure no one is looking. Put $1,000USD in your passport and come back to me.”
<sigh>
I nod my head in agreement and retreat to the men’s room, where I take out two $20 bills, fold them, and place them in my passport. I did not have a $1,000 and even if I did, was certainly not going to give it to a dirt bag like him.
Back in the line for passport control, I have to think the soldiers around were in on this too, because my “friend’ was shooing people to other border agents to keep his lane open for me. I got up to the booth, slipped him my passport, and he quickly slid it under a secluded part of his desk. He took a look at his takings, but a frown quickly spread across his face.
“I told you $1,000! This is not enough.”
I pleaded with him again, telling him I was a student and that I did not have any more money. He wasn’t impressed.
“Go the the bank, then. Go to automatic. Don’t come back with less than $300.”
Again, I retreated to the men’s room where I pulled out the rest of my money–several hundred dollars–to contemplate what to do next. Boarding was scheduled to begin soon and I thought this would be now or never. I considered asking the Lufthansa folks to intercede, but they were local rent-a-agents who were not at all friendly during check-in, so I decided I would have to take care of the matter myself.
I pulled out a 100 Hong Kong Dollar note and a EUR50 note, adding them to the $40 already in the passport (I’m surprised he did not keep the $40…). I had more, but was still unwilling to part with it–especially in this circumstance.
Back at the check-in desk, I waited off to a distance for a break in the crowds. It soon came and I marched up to my amigo. He again took my passport, placed it under his desk, and pulled out the money. Thankfully, he seemed satisfied and began to work on my passport. He probably did not know what the Hong Kong Dollar exchange rate was and thought he had more than $13. Next time, I’ll have to bring Colombian pesos…
He first pulled out a paper clip to scrape off the exit date on my Kazakh visa (I should have thought of that). He tried that for about 30 seconds, did not appear to make much progress, and soon moved on to his keyboard. He typed away for over three minutes, often stopping to wipe his sweaty brow. I don’t know what he was doing, but eventually he pulled out his stamp, but then stopped.
He stared at my visa and decided not to stamp me out on the visa itself, but to stamp me out on a separate page. He handed me back my passport and boarding pass, then had the nerve to reach out his hand to shake mine. Fearing a reprisal for non-compliance, I shook back and smiled at him. He laughed. I have to admit, I chuckled myself.
Out about $120, I soon boarded my Lufthansa flight to Germany. Warmly greeted by two smiling Germans, it was good to be out of Kazakhstan.
Wow, Matthew! Your adventures truly are adventurous.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who would like to travel with you, although maybe not on one of these more extreme trips.
Wow – a true Borat-worthy experience!
“In my country, eh visa look like american dollars”
Great story. Way to keep your composure. I had something similar to me happen in Thailand and was forced to hand-over some Qatari Riyal. But stories like these open up our eyes to the mis-adventures we might face in still developing countries.
man, what dirty bastards!
I would’ve freaked out and at the very least given him the whole $300 dollars. Good job!
OK I’m calling you out on this one. You got to the airport at !2:20am knowing that your Kazak visa expired at midnight? I think you were looking for a little adventure my man. Maybe not consciously, but at least sub-consciously you knew there would be some problems. 🙂
smiling germans??? Where was that! 🙂
Good adventure…something to tell your grandchildren among all your other truly amazing stories! 🙂
Wow, Matthew, what an adventure! The two Kazakhstan exits under my belt were both smooth; but then again, I did not overstay my visa.
Your misadventure begs the question, however: why did you move your flight up by a day? And how were you able to do so in a cost-effective manner, given that you were travelling on a dirt-cheap mileage run fare (I would know; I took the same journey several weeks ago.) Did you get lucky with a Kazakh girl? 😉
I can relate with you on how glad I was to leave the country. I left Kazakhstan a day after you on March 27 on [cancelled] Lufthansa flight (due to strikes in Germany). It was an ordeal trying to speak to the local contract agents. Given the fact my flight was cancelled, I couldn’t even reach the local check-in agent since the airport is setup in a dumb way such that the immigration and check-in are in same area. The guards didn’t want to let us through, and local agents wanted us to call LH local number which made no sense, since we were already at the airport. After much bickering and yelling (along with half dozen cancelled passengers), I was let through to speak to agent who was able to re-route me and 1 other passenger through London on BMI. AFAIK, the rest were rerouted for next day and given transport and hotel voucher. The BMI flight was due to depart 5h later, I asked for meal voucher or any compensation and they refused, saying they had done enough by re-routing me.
Luckily the immigration didn’t cause any problems for me. My visa was valid for 30 days (or whatever the max stay was). Nonetheless, glad you were able to make it out. I was certainly glad to leave.
Also, the lounge in ALA is a joke, but I wasn’t expecting much either.
Oh, wow, you should feel lucky because if you had to pay the official fine, it would be, in 2013 dollars, about $450. You would have to deal with the not so pleasant experience of going through a local court, then migration office, all while dishing out money for translator and maybe even a lawyer as well as taxis/buses/hotel rooms/etc. I am “lucky” as I speak fluent Russian, but I am already hostage for 5 days and counting waiting to get through all the bureaucratic hoops. So in relative terms, you got off ok.
Indeed, you did manage to pull through this one rather well. I am a Canadian married to a citizen of Kazakhstan, and I overstayed my “Personal Visa” by 4 days – causing a kafka-esque type adventure through a bureaucratic ‘nightmare’. My passport was confiscated and I had to go through military court trial (as the border is governed by the military), various other departments, etc… never knowing exactly what the process was, whether I’d be deported at the last minute, spend time in jail or combination of both. The prosecutor asked for 5 days in jail, the Judge suggested 10 days because I should “know better”, while my poor wife looked on with fear and terror in her eyes (having grown up in their system). I was somewhat prepared for the trial, and the judge was more flexing his muscles than really wanting to send me off to jail, and in the end I got a $495 US fine, had to pay for another airline ticket, cost of the Exit Visa and a week spent going through the ‘ordeal’. Thankfully, we had an apartment in Almaty so I was not put out for those costs. Ironically, my Exit Visa was good for 3 weeks, so I was in essence allowed to stay almost a month beyond the original visa departure date – go figure. Words of advice: don’t take risks in foreign countries when it comes to visas and the law, and never assume you can talk your way out of even the most minor of infractions – even those may have dire consequences.
I read this and remembered my Kazakhstan experience when leaving the airport many years ago. I was asked how much money worth of local currency I had, answered “about $50”, turned out to be $52 – so they threatened to jail me for intentionally lying to a security officer. Put me back $20 or so, but made me quite angry. Life goes on!