Over the years I’ve noticed a disturbing trend by government officials all over the world to progressively remove themselves from those needing their services — with many discrepancies remaining between tourism destinations, rich and poor countries, and those who fear visitors and those who know they need visitors. The examples I give here are anecdotal, and no surprise to those who travel internationally (outside of tourists from powerful countries, who have no idea what goes on for the rest of us).
1) The first example is the most recent, most disturbing, and the inspiration for this blog. This past November 10, Aylin, my former Turkish teacher, an academic who already holds a Ph.D from Boğaziçi Üniversitesi, is resident in Istanbul, and had nearly completed a second Ph.D at the UK’s University of Bedfordshire, was notified that her dissertation defense date would be December 8. In order to organize this defense, she and her committee of three academic advisors would need to physically meet in Bedfordshire on that date. While it was difficult enough to get the three British academics to schedule a common free date to meet, getting the Turkish academic to the UK proved to be the most difficult part of this defense — because of the British visa she needed to attend.
In the old days (like 2 years ago), this would have required Aylin to run down to the British consulate in Pera, deposit her paperwork and passports, and wait 7-10 days for her visa to come through — at which point she would return to the consulate and pick up her passport. In recent years, if you were willing to pay enough (like $2.50/minute), you could call the consulate office to push your case if you were having difficulties, or you could even enter the consulate and respectfully entreat the nice officials through a 2 inch glass thick window (or yell at those faceless fucks who live off your misery, but then that’s not likely to get you the visa, now is it?).
Following a global trend — and using the 2003 bombing of this same consulate as the immediate justification, one can no longer attain a UK visa in person. Instead, now you must first fill out an online application, take a case number, and deposit your passport and papers with one of several private companies spread throughout the city and country, which then deposits your materials with the consulate for you (for an extra fee, of course).
You cannot enter the UK consulate under any circumstances (except for the summer garden party, which of course you’re not invited to) — that is only for UK nationals, and it’s even quite difficult for them to enter. There is no phone line to the consulate, not even one with ridiculous charges — although you can call the passport processing company (which has no power whatsoever) if you’re willing to cough up $14. Instead, if you need to press your case directly with consulate officials, you must send an email through the online application — at which point you get an automated response (Some of the responses Aylin received were spectacularly dismissive, but she hasn’t saved them, unfortunately). For those who want to check out the process, here is where you would start. Here is where you would continue the process, with UK’s centralized forms.
Here’s how the process played out in reality: On or about November 10, Aylin initiated the visa process, reassured by the site’s statement (and previous personal experience with real UK consulate officials in downtown Istanbul) that “99% of all visa applications are processed within two weeks.” That left an extra two weeks, which, while not ideal, should have sufficed. She then purchased her non-refundable Easy Jet tickets, and waited.
After two weeks had passed, she started emailing the office ever more worried — and insistent — messages, and receiving ever more snarky automated responses. At some point, she broke down and revealed her disgust at the entire process, especially considering that 3 British professors awaited her confirmation of attendance, Bedfordshire really needed her to finish for its own sake, she needed to finish for her own career’s sake, and she had already purchased an Easy Jet ticket. Yet another automated response arrived, reminding her to check her updates regularly. At this point, one imagines the jolly British bureaucrats sipping tea and having a good laugh at the desperate letter telling them how mean they really were being.
So, on the day of travel (day 25 of the application process, 99% of which are finished within two weeks), Aylin had prepared for everything, leaving her 5 year old boy with her ex for 10 days of dissertation defense travel, packing, and constantly watching for the update. 9 am, nothing. 11 am, nothing. Noon — the departure hour for the Easy Jet flight, nothing. 4 pm, it comes! She’d missed her flight, but the visa had come.
She immediately rushed to the airport in the hopes of catching the last flight out, on Turkish Airlines. She made it to the airport with 30 minutes to spare, and the Turkish staff rushed her through all formalities, urging “Hocam” (my teacher) Aylin to not miss her plane (note how Turkish culture still respects teachers). At this point, she’s lost her Easy Jet ticket (which made a cool free profit in return for providing no service whatsoever, thanks to the UK government), and had to shell out some 270 YTL ($175) for the Turkish Airlines ticket. When she got to London, it was late at night and no easy transport was available from Heathrow. At the end of the day, she shelled out some extra $300 or so to make this defense on time, all thanks to the UK’s automated visa process and the faceless fucks who intentionally approved her visa in the late afternoon of her last possible day of travel. I’m not sure what torture those bureaucrats deserve, but I’m open to suggestions.
2) The second story is equally depressing, albeit shorter. In 2006 my dear spouse Gamze traveled on a bargain ticket from Istanbul to Dulles, carrying our 18 month old girl and their carry-on baggage on a long trip which included a short layover in Brussels. I forget the details (there may have been a double stopover, inside Europe, or perhaps to transfer from one flight outside of Schenken to another flight outside of Schenken, you have to pass through passport control), but for some reason she had to enter the Schenken Area in order to make a simple airplane transfer within the Brussels Airport in order to continue on to the USA.
Many Americans wouldn’t even have realized it had happened, as the Belgian border officials would have simply grunted and stamped their passports, waving them on through. However, Gamze carried a Turkish passport at the time.
She originally had something like a two hour layover, but didn’t make the connection because it took some 60 Euros and 8 hours for the Belgian authorities to let her through the damn booths. Remember, she had extensive carry on baggage and an 18 month old girl — anyone ever try to keep a baby happy that long anywhere, let alone in an airport? Luckily, a number of Turkish airport workers took pity on her and shared their tea, crackers, and a comfortable space in a maintenance closet with her throughout most of the 8 hours.
Such a system is exploitative, inhumane, and designed simply to extract the most money and pain from non-favored nations’ citizens in order to discourage immigration on the whole. It wouldn’t have taken 10 minutes for a staff member to escort her through the airport to her connecting flight (that’s what they do for criminals and VIPs — two groups who share many things in common), but she and her baby were insufficiently important to merit such “special” attention.
She’s now a U.S. citizen, but don’t think for a moment that she’ll ever forget that experience. Our daughters might, might grow up as insolent American brats expecting everyone to love them and let them through, but we’ll always know better. Ironically enough, with my own spat of travels in the past 2 years, I currently have a United Airlines gold pass, so until February 2012 I will continue to effortlessly traipse through airport lounges, sampling second rate cheese and wines wherever I go. Thus lies the difference between an ably employed U.S. citizen and a migrating Turkish citizen.
3) The third example actually counters the first two to some extent. As Turkey steadily grows in power, and continues to copy Europe and the US (as it has been for at least 150 years now), they’ve decided to crack down on their own foreign population, and isolate government officials from the people they’re meant to serve.
Now the Turkish Security Directorate also insists on an online application for a residency permit, which leads to an online chat appointment — currently averaging two months after the initial request. I haven’t yet had to deal with this, but I’m worried about it. Stay tuned.
So, what’s the true meaning of “freedom”? It’s the freedom to travel wherever you please — and it tends to be a zero sum game. My freedom to travel as an American citizen appears to be contingent on your inability as an African, Middle Easterner, Central Asian, or Latin American to do the same. I’ve come to think it’s one of several related reasons why our soldiers are sent all the world to other people’s countries without invitations and with heavy arms. They say it’s to “protect our freedom” — I think I now know what they mean. It’s to protect our gold pass.
