Digenis.org

For those of you who are living your adventures and travels by proxy through me, you may want to reconsider the vicarious lifestyle for a little while.

What was supposed to be a quick, routine visa run to Helsinki is turning into a hellish nightmare of trying to get back into a country to which I’m suddenly not so eager to return. Sure, I can think of hundreds of worse places to be stuck; it’s more the timing of all this that really bites.

My misfortune began on the train ride from Moscow to Helsinki. To be honest, I was just asking for it. . . I took a risk, forgetting that the House always wins in Russia. Well, that’s at least the case when the House is Russian law enforcement, who doesn’t seem to have to play by the rules. I have a policy not to pay bribes to Russian cops or officials unless I’ve actually done something wrong to warrant it. I think it just feeds the cycle of corruption. Besides, I refuse to be taken advantage of just because I am a foreigner and, now that I have the language skills, I am not afraid to tell them that.

But alas, as I was saying, this time I was just asking for trouble. You see, my current visa was expiring on the 3rd of July and, since I had to work in Odintsovo on the 2nd and do 347 other random errands before I left, I decided to leave Moscow on the third. The only catch was that, even though I was leaving Moscow on time, I wouldn’t techincally cross the Russian-Finnish border until around 7 am on the 4th of July. I was told by a few folks that this wouldn’t be a big deal and, if it was, I could easily solve it with a few greenbacks. It was my best option at the time.

So at about seven am, as we were passing through Vyborg, there came a knock on the door of the kupe. I crossed my fingers and squinted my tired eyes as the borderguard examined my documents. He cleared his throat a few times. “Please come into hall,” he requested of me in broken English. I slipped on my tapochki and stepped into the cramped corridor to play Let’s Make a Deal with him. I kn€w pre¢i$el¥ what h€ want€d.

The conversation, which started in English and quickly turned to Russian, went something like this (Me=me, BFSBPM=Big, fat, smelly border patrol man):

BFSBPM: You must pay fine. Visa July three, today July four.
ME: But I left Moscow on the train on July third.
BFSBPM: Yes, today July four. You must pay 150 euro or we take you to St. Petersburg.
[at this point we switch to Russian]
ME: 150 euros! That’s crazy! I didn’t even pay that much for the visa in the first place and you want to charge me that for leaving the country seven hours late?!?!?
BFSBPM: Oh, you speak Russian? [he then proceeds to repeat what he has tried to say up to this point]
ME: Look, I want to stay in Russia. The only reason I am on this train is because your country is making me leave in order to come back.
BFSBPM: Your fine will be 50 euros.
[By now I’m certain he’s just pulling these numbers out of his butt for vodka money]
ME: I’m not afraid of you. . . Here’s 20 dollars, I don’t want any more problems.
[BFSBPM gives my back my passport and starts to walk away]
ME: What about my exit stamp?
BFSBPM: I already stamped it.

Sure enough, he had already stamped it before he created that whole scandal.

I spent all of Sunday wandering around sunny Helsinki. I found this month’s Backpacker magazine in Stockmann’s and read the whole thing cover to cover at a small European-style sidewalk while sipping a mocha and a few street musicians who were playing just across the street. After that, I walked around a bit more, noted where the Russian Consulate was, and headed back to the hostel to catch the final game of Euro2004 at the hostel.

Now, the whole reason I came to Helsinki in the first place was because the Moscow Times ran a piece a few months ago in which they praised the Russian Embassy in Helsinki for their quick, in-and-out visa service. Either a whole lot has changed since that was published or they were talking about a different Helsinki, Finland. I arrived at the embassy half an hour before opening and only reached the front of the line 45 minutes before they closed for the day. Of course, part of that is due to the convenient 9-12 schedule at most consulates. Seriously, why do that?

So, when I finally got to speak with someone they told me that I couldn’t get the same day service. Then they informed me that I had to get extra pages for my passport before I could apply for another Russian visa. Apparently, the two fully open pages they require you to have must be consecutive. At least in Helsinki, because this was never an issue before. Of my previous four Russian visas, only 1 of them uses consecutive pages for that journey’s visa and stamps. Still, it’s pointless to arguge with them. She told me this happens often and that I should visit my country’s embassy to get additional pages.

So, I went to the US Embassy in Helsinki. It happened to be just 1o minutes down the road from the Russian Embassy, so it was a nice little walk to try and cool my jets. Calm myself down. As I was walking there, the thought came to my head, “What if the Embassy is closed because yesterday, the Fourth of July, was a Sunday? Heh, that would be perfect.”

Perfectly correct.

So, tomorrow I get to repeat the whole circus. Except I probably won’t be able to get to the front of the line of the Russian Embassy after having already been at the US Embassy, which opens at the same time. I might get stuck here for another two days. It’s too bad Wes hasn’t moved here yet.

Agh, now I’ve gotta go find a phone card to call my Tuesday students and cancel their lessons. Not a good day, folks.