Back in early February [RC#24],
I was pleased to report that Ernestine’s Ukrainian cousins, obstructionist
local bureaucrats, seemed on their way to retirement. I’ve had to reconsider
that assessment.
On
Mar. 20, I got a little e-mail from a friend in Edinburgh whom I hadn’t seen in
a long time. After years of talking about it, she had made up her mind to come
to Ukraine to visit me.
I
immediately picked the last week in May as the best of the three times she
proposed. “The weather should be ideal,” I wrote back, “and it’s Kyiv Days,
which is a wonderful feast here. Zillions of concerts, shows, artists, etc
etc.”
March
22: “Great! I looked up a
travel site and return flights are £190-585. Ouch! We’re spoiled here with
flights to Venice at £30 each way. For a while, flights to Dublin were free –
you only had to pay £10 in taxes. I guess Eastern Europe is ripe for Ryanair or
Easyjet. Love, Rach”
March
25: “Have booked our tickets.
I will now get on with visas.... Rachel”
March
30: “You shouldn’t need
anything from me for a visa – they dropped the invitation requirement some time
ago – but you never know,” I replied.
April
12: “Because we’re staying
with you and because of our nationalities, John only needs a letter confirming
he’s staying with you but as a New Zealander I need (quote) “a letter of
invitation” plus confirmation that I’m staying with you. We need ‘private’
visas, but the girl on the phone couldn’t tell me what that really meant. Good
news is that there’s a consulate in Edinburgh so I won’t have to pay a private
courier to London and back. The Embassy won’t send visas in the post; they have
to be handed direct to someone with an official receipt! I can only assume old
soviet bureaucracy is still rife in all this! Rachel”
April
13: “Send me all your
passport stats and then I’ll be off and running. Also, a fax number where I can
send the letters.”
April
18: “Did you get the faxes I
sent this morning?”
April
26: “The consulate says
John’s stuff is OK, but my invitation needs to be stamped by the police in
Ukraine. The consulate bloke wrote BBIP/VVIR on top. I guess you know what that
means. A faxed copy will be fine (he says). They’re having some sort of a
holiday (May Day, I guess) all next week. Rachel”
April
26: “I thought all those
requirements were dropped long time ago. I’ve never gotten such a stamp and
I’ve no idea what they’re looking for. Can you somehow find out? We’re still
working Apr. 29-30, and so should the consulate.”
April
26: “The consulate and
embassy only take calls between 09:30 and 12:30. I’ll try faxing today but
don’t hold out much hope. Rach”
April
26: “Hurrah! I faxed them and
the consul just phoned me. As an NZer, I still need a police stamp. R.”
April
29: “Am working on it.”
April
29: “They say it takes three
days to process but I don’t trust them. I may get it and then they’ll say I
need something else (that’s been my experience of these things). They’re open
again the 7th. R.”
April
29-30, we spent much of the morning on the phone with the Central VVIR in Kyiv.
Finally, we went down to talk to them directly. They refused to explain what
the procedure was, or its cost, and sent us to the district VVIR where I live.
The
trouble is, I’m not registered with the VVIR. As a foreign journalist, I’m registered with the Ministry
of Foreign Affairs.
So
I called my contact there, but Viktoria had no idea what I was talking about.
“Call this guy at the Visa Policy Department,” and she gave me a number and
name.
When
we called, XXX knew nothing about it. “We don’t deal with that kind of thing,”
he said and suggested we go to the Central VVIR.
Meanwhile,
the district VVIR wasn’t answering its phone. When we there in person, we were
informed the stamp would cost Hr 80 or US $15. Of course, as a foreigner, they
wouldn’t give me any stamp.
We
were back where we had started from. Nowhere. And six days of holidays were
upon us.
On
May 7, we tried the Central VVIR again, with the same results. The District
VVIR was closed until Saturday.
May 7: “Was
wondering how things are progressing? I hear the weather’s good in Kyiv. Here
it’s the usual 10-12° (a Scottish heatwave) so I’m looking forward to some sun.
Rachel”
May
7: “No luck with the VVIRs
but a friend said he’ll try through someone he knows. I should know by six. The
weather really is wonderful.”
May
7: “That’s good news! Rachel”
May
8: “No luck. I’m just going
to fax you another version of the letter. Give it a try today if you can.”
May
8: “I phoned a travel company
in Manchester who deal with these things all the time. They thought Edinburgh
was more switched on than London, so this gives real food for thought. He
confirmed that you won’t get a stamp because you’re a foreigner. I guess I’m going
to have to opt out. R.”
May
8: “Rach! Don’t give up yet.
I just talked to my MFA people again. They said to fax you my Ukrainian visa
and MFA registration stamp. (Why they couldn’t have said this a week ago, Lord
knows.) Anyway, they will try to get a stamp for you Friday morning (tomorrow’s
another holiday) if necessary. Saturday is an official Ukrainian workday.”
May
10: “The MFA girl knows a guy
at your consulate personally, Kyrylo. Is that who you’re dealing with? He
should be able to do a visa in three days.”
May
10: “That’s the guy. He first
he said three days was enough, then said no, it would take 10 days. He can’t
seem to make up his mind. I have no choice but to opt out. Sorry about all
this, but if I don’t cancel immediately, I’m £500 out of pocket. Rach”
We
agreed to try again in September.
Ernestine would have been proud of them all. •
–from the
notebooks of Pan O.
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