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A Passport… or a Way to Heaven
By Carlos Jose Bourdjian
Dear all,
This is the story of my latest trip to
A year ago, I received my “Armenian passport” for which I was very happy, and decided to use it for the first time. This trip was postponed a few times the year before, and after many delays, I made my decision for the 16th of October 2005 for my one week to
I used my new passport for issuing the ticket, and gave it to Armavia Airlines person in charge in
I wanted to be sure if I had to pay for the airport taxes directly or – being a Syrian – I needed to buy the 1700 SP permit (which includes the airport tax). He advised me to take the 2nd option and so did the person in charge of the customs, and I did as I have been told.
I got the OUT stamp in my Armenian passport and flew to
The plane arrived after one hour and 20 minutes and I was the first who rushed to the airport to clear my stuff quickly because my friend, Ani Toranian, arranged a driver, to pick me up. I arrived to passport control section, the guy asked for my ticket and passport, I gave them both, he asked again “Passport sir”, I told him I already gave him my passport, he said no, this is the visa I need the passport, I said Noooo and showed him where the word PASSPORT was mentioned on the cover, then he showed me the 1st page where it was mentioned that this passport has a 10 year visa validity, and he needs to see my Syrian passport, my answer was why would I carry 2 passports with me? If I'll show you the Syrian one then I need to apply for a visa, he said Noo baby, you show your Syrian passport and use the other one in place of visa. He seemed astonished to hear that I had left the Syrian airport with the Armenian so called passport-visa and did not comprehend how the Syrian authorities had stamped OUT in it. I simply said this is my story and I don't have the Syrian passport with me. He asked me to wait aside till the big boss comes.
Minutes later an officer came and took me through the transit area to the front part of the airport where the passengers check in. On the way he asked if I can get my passport on the next flight, and since there is no next flight till next Sunday?- the date of my return – I proposed to bring the other passport via the Syrian Airlines flight, which was on Friday, meanwhile they gave me a permission to go out of the airport, of course leaving my Armenian Passport with them, and whenever the other one arrives I would produce it to get the entry stamp and everything would go on smoothly if I do that arrangement. The guy said “I'm not the one who will approve this after all. The big chief will see if he can do it”.
At that moment?I saw Varouj Mahserejian and his wife who came to pick up their relatives from the airport, and because I had an Armenian cellphone SIM card (Viva Cell) with me – Thanks to my friend Noubar for buying it for me – I called Varouj and explained my problem, he was surprised but I assured him that I'll be out of the airport within 30 minutes till the bigger boss comes and clears this out.
The officer asked me to wait for the bigger boss in the transit area, where there was the Duty Free and “The Armenian Surj”?Caf?, I waited for an hour till 6:30?a.m. then called Ani, who was shocked to hear this, she called the driver to wait an hour more.
It was 9:30 a.m, the chief was not there yet, Ani called me several times and all we could do was wait for the chief. I called Shushan Petrossian [known Armenian singer – Azad-Hye], my dear friend (she was not feeling well because of a backache), maybe she knew somebody in the airport who could help. She began calling friends here and there, but the problem was that she needed to know the name of this chief, which I didn't and nobody knew because the security people were Russians and the Armenians, who were inside, didn't know anything about the outside people.
The phone calls were still going between the three of us. Me, Ani and Shushan. Eventually, the clock indicated 10:30 a.m. The big chief came, a Russian, he told me that there was no way I could go out of the airport without the passport. I suggested my solution, but he wasn't convinced, I proposed to bring the passport with a courier service, but got the same negative reply again.
Shushan told me to declare that I was her guest in
I asked to know about the options I have, he said “we can send you to your country via Tehran (Iran)”, “You are not allowing me to go one step from here without my passport, so how will the Iranians allow me?” was my reaction.
He stopped for a while then said with his weak English “you?are right, so you have to take the other choice, which is to wait here till your passport arrives”. I began to laugh, he did too, and told him this “Look, do you see the squares in the ceiling? I was here for 4 hours and I know that there are 21 squares in the little part and 24 squares in the big one, and if I stay longer I'll begin to count the floor squares, do you find this reasonable?”, He smiled and said “The Rule is a Rule”.
I asked ? as a last solution -?if the Syrian Embassy could be responsible for my sojourn and bring me out with their guarantee until my passport arrives?
“This should be in written form” was his reply.
I began my phone calls to Ani, who contacted the Syrian Embassy, they responded quickly, agreed with this solution and promised to issue a letter.
Shushan also knew someone there, who tried to be of a help. Ani needed copy of my passport so she contacted my mom in
I had my 1st cup of coffee with a delicious cake in the “Armenian Surj” caf?. There were 3 girls working in the Duty Free who noticed that something was wrong with me, they approached, introduced themselves at lunch time and invited me to share their sandwiches.
In the meantime my sister Sylvia called from the
1 hour later Ani called and informed me that it took them so long to finish the process of issuing the requested?letter?but still needed to be legalized and because the working hours were over I had to spend the night over?there in the airport. No way, I thought.
Sylvia called several times and got more worried. Everybody calling me was asking where am I going to sleep? How is the situation inside? What are you consuming for food?
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The food was good; the toilets were very clean, of course there were no showers and I managed to clean my teeth with chewing gums, besides, I was clean and in a good condition, my hair was gelled and perfect.
There were foreign people in the transit area, people talking in Spanish. I asked the duty free girls, they said they were from
Arman, the bartender in the “Armenian Surj”, told me to get some sleep, but I couldn't find a place to rest, he said that the handles of the chairs at the waiting room could be moved leaving enough space to sleep. I tried that but I had back pains after 2 hours of sleeping. So I didn't sleep at all.
In the evening there was another trio of girls replacing the ones who were there in daytime, so we introduced ourselves to each other, of course they heard my story and were laughing and feeling shame at the same time.
We spent the whole night talking about things that had happened in the airport before. I heard horrible stories like how people came and stayed in the transit area for a week or two because of visa problems, and how the girls encouraged them to hold on and face the terrible days. Then they began to talk about their private lives, how they were studying in universities, then financial problems made them look for work besides studying to earn more money to help their families on one hand and finish their education on the other hand. They told me about the robberies that happened in the duty free especially at the perfume section and how innocent people were fired because of this. I was feeling bad after hearing their stories, and comparing to what I heard my case became very easy and simple to solve.
Noushig Mikayelian, Ani's daughter, called me. I didn't inform her that I was coming to
Avig, i.e. Avedis Berberian, a friend of mine, also called and felt ashamed because he thought it was awful to keep an Armenian trapped in the airport for a silly reason, so he, as an Armenian, felt horrible for me, but he could do nothing so we laughed and made jokes to alleviate the situation.
There was a flight to
I felt tired in the early morning. I took a nap sitting on one of the restaurant's tables. When I woke up there was a new set of girls. Nune and Hasmig from last night were gone and left me a souvenir while I was sleeping, it was a pack of half kg Armenian coffee, which I'm drinking now while writing this story to you.?
The new trio was Lilia, Sirush and Liana. Liana was the head of the duty free and responsible for all the girls. She works hard. The bartender and his assistant were replaced too. So I had to tell my story again and again.
Shushan called again feeling very sorry for what had happened and was very upset since I couldn't sleep, I told her that's ok, within hours we'll go and have lunch somewhere.
Ani called again asking for my Syrian ID card, which fortunately was with me. The Embassy wanted a proof that I was Syrian, and thank God I had it, so she came to take the ID, she couldn't enter in, I tried to send it with one of the girls outside but it was difficult to do this, so she asked the help of one of the security guys, and it took two hours for this mission impossible to be accomplished, getting the ID 30 meters away. You can imagine how time was flying.?After getting the ID and printing the much awaited letter, which will enable me to get out of my prison, Ani called again saying no good news. The letter was refused to be legalized because after contacting the airport, the Russians refused to take this action, and I have to stay at the airport till Friday, the arrival of the next Syrian Airlines flight.
I felt like a big basket of shit was emptied on me, pissed off and very mad. Ani called again and informed that Vrej, my uncle, back in
I noticed that my cell phone units were about to end, so I asked one of the girls to buy me some units, but then there was another problem, the phone's battery was almost empty and nobody had Sony-Erricson mobile. Everybody had Nokia, only one girl had a Sony-Erricson, but why to bring the “Zariedka” (the charger in Russian) with her? She charges her phone at home and uses it here… Good point.
Ani called again saying that one of the Armavia Airlines employees is coming to Yerevan via Beirut flight, late Wednesday early Thursday, and he will bring the passport with him, this is the quickest solution because the courier services like DHL and FedEx are using the same flights and no way to get it earlier. So
I asked for my luggage, at least my handbag, and was promised to have it, but nothing arrived. Thank God again for the clean toilets.
My uncle's attempts reached to higher levels through another politician, who was a friend of Father Antranig. So I was waiting for a sergeant in the military, to come and pick me up, but this one also failed with the Russians.
Another day passed and there was nothing to do, I tried to find a book to read, but all I found was one in Russian, nothing in Armenian in this area.
On Wednesday I had this call from Ani with a surprise for me.?My mom herself, decided to bring the passport by taking the
I was very tired. What I wanted most was a good sleep. Meanwhile I was afraid to take a nap, because the last time I woke up I was freezing a hell with pains in my back.
The girl at the bar came and asked if I like plav with soung (rice with mushroom sauce) I could join them for lunch. I tried to refuse the offer because they had only a small amount for themselves, but she insisted a lot, and I shared the delicious meal.
At night, we had a couple of flights to Beirut and Moscow, we sold a lot of Armenian cogniac because it was cheaper than the ordinary shops in downtown Yerevan, so I bought a few bottles too, had a permission to keep them there and take them with me on my way back home.
It was Thursday 1:00 past midnight, the
It was 4:00 a.m and I was waiting for somebody to come and pick me up, but no one. The flight arrived on time at 3:30, I was invited to my last cup of coffee and?enjoyed it. Both Duty Free and Armenian Surj employees were worried for what will happen this time, will I be able to go out or no? If yes, then where is my mom? I began to doubt that maybe she missed the plane or something happened on the Syrian – Lebanese border.
It was 5:30 when finally an officer came with my passport in his hands. He recognized me and asked to walk along with him back to the arrival check-point on the other side of the airport. I said goodbye to everyone and promised to bring them some pakhlava sweets on my way back. On our way to the transit area, the officer took the IN stamp out of his pocket and sealed on my passport with that day's date, which was 20 October 2005, then he asked me to find my bags from gortsradz ireri graseniag, which is “Lost and Found” section, and for the first time I saw my name written in Russian when I signed the papers at the L&F office.
When I went out, Haygo, the same driver, was there waiting for me, he came and hugged me, I didn't know him before, but that was a big Welcome for me.
I asked if he saw my mom, but he didn't notice anyone, I don't know what made me take my cell phone and call her, although I knew that her phone does not have an international roaming, but suddenly a Miracle….it was ringing and I heard my mom's voice, and that was the only time that her phone rang, cause during our trip it was not working properly.
My mom was waiting for me in the Departure section at the other side, so we found each other, hugged and kissed for a bit long. Hayko took the bags to the car and I began telling lots of stories on the way back.
A final note. After we arrived home and talked to my sister and the other friends who were waiting for my arrival, we had a small breakfast, then at 7:30 a.m. I slept and didn't wake up till 4:30 p.m. when I heard somebody singing some opera notes, I thought maybe I was dreaming, but then it turned out Ani with her mother Dr. Armine Toranian were waiting in the living room, she came in and with her vocalize etudes woke me up and said: “Yalla ge pave bargik, yelek tambalner, surje badrasd e” (Come on, enough sleeping, get up, coffee is ready) and she was laughing at me cause it was the first time for her to see me with long beard.
I hope you enjoyed reading this story. I'll try to write you later the 2nd part of it, which will include my adventures in
And a last note: Always carry your main Passport with you whatever other passports you have …. :)
Carlos Jose Bourdjian
30 May 2006
http://lovetolivefor.eponym.com/blog
Note from Azad-Hye:
Carlos Jose Bourdjian lives in
As a residence visa (or permit) this document allows the holder to stay and?work in
If you are a frequent traveler to
