Continuing with the theme of travel-related humor, I recently had to travel to Kazakhstan and that led to more than a few chuckles. Now, Kazakhstan is not a place where I travel very often. It's in Asia, bordering both China and Russia, so it takes at least a couple of flights in order for me to get there. Essentially, it's far from home for me.
To make things a bit more complicated, I don't speak any Kazakh or Russian, so I am very much a foreigner in that country. Sure, I'm very willing to try the food, but that doesn't quite help when trying to answer questions or hold a conversation. Similarly, I don't any of the local laws, because, again, I am a foreigner in that country. Given that I don't speak the language, this basically means that it is in my best interest to not run afoul of any regulations.
I mention these two specific facts because they bring me to the focal point of today's blog post: the white piece of paper. When you arrive in country, you are required to either have a visa or stay for a short amount of time. This is not particularly odd, but the way they enforce this rule, if you don't have a visa, is that they issue a white piece of paper that you are required to surrender upon flying out. It's a simple system, but it accomplishes the goal.
Guess who didn't have a visa? Yup, yours truly. Now, this was not an oversight on my part. Travelers from my part of the world are allowed to travel there without a visa for up to 30 days, so I didn't go through the hassle of dealing with more paperwork. Remember, I don't speak the language or know the laws. The fewer things I could screw up, the better.
Now, I'd actually known about this piece of paper prior to traveling there. It just so happened that some coworkers had gone there a few months back, and one of them lost his white piece of paper. It was apparently quite the ordeal, and they weren't even sure if they would let him on the plane. From what I heard, there was a non-trivial chance that he might've ended up in jail. It all ended well, so everyone could laugh about it in the end, but I was warned repeatedly to hold on to that piece of paper as a result.
Needless to say, I was not going to play any games. In fact, once I got off the plane, I immediately started looking for this piece of paper. I was going to acquire one as soon as possible, so that I could then hold on to it for dear life. To give you some idea of how serious I was about this, I actually got out of line at one point because I had spotted a stack of white papers. I wasn't even sure that this was the white paper I needed, but I knew that therein lay the possibility for accomplishing my goal.
Fortunately for me, I was actually correct. The paper I needed was in that stack, and I filled it out as accurately and carefully as I could (I have sometimes-illegible handwriting). I then tucked it into my passport, and utilized an iron grip on my passport. I was not letting that paper out of my sight. This continued for the entire trip, as I did not want to have another "funny" story like my coworker.
Ultimately, I did manage to keep the piece of paper in my possession the whole time, so I very happily returned it to the Immigration/Customs official when I departed. The sense of relief upon being waved through was quite palpable. In fact, I sent the Mild Wife a text message as soon as I could, to let her know that I had managed to correctly navigate the local laws. It is amazing how much joy you can feel over a piece of paper that's roughly six square inches big (it really isn't very large).
To make things a bit more complicated, I don't speak any Kazakh or Russian, so I am very much a foreigner in that country. Sure, I'm very willing to try the food, but that doesn't quite help when trying to answer questions or hold a conversation. Similarly, I don't any of the local laws, because, again, I am a foreigner in that country. Given that I don't speak the language, this basically means that it is in my best interest to not run afoul of any regulations.
I mention these two specific facts because they bring me to the focal point of today's blog post: the white piece of paper. When you arrive in country, you are required to either have a visa or stay for a short amount of time. This is not particularly odd, but the way they enforce this rule, if you don't have a visa, is that they issue a white piece of paper that you are required to surrender upon flying out. It's a simple system, but it accomplishes the goal.
Guess who didn't have a visa? Yup, yours truly. Now, this was not an oversight on my part. Travelers from my part of the world are allowed to travel there without a visa for up to 30 days, so I didn't go through the hassle of dealing with more paperwork. Remember, I don't speak the language or know the laws. The fewer things I could screw up, the better.
Now, I'd actually known about this piece of paper prior to traveling there. It just so happened that some coworkers had gone there a few months back, and one of them lost his white piece of paper. It was apparently quite the ordeal, and they weren't even sure if they would let him on the plane. From what I heard, there was a non-trivial chance that he might've ended up in jail. It all ended well, so everyone could laugh about it in the end, but I was warned repeatedly to hold on to that piece of paper as a result.
Needless to say, I was not going to play any games. In fact, once I got off the plane, I immediately started looking for this piece of paper. I was going to acquire one as soon as possible, so that I could then hold on to it for dear life. To give you some idea of how serious I was about this, I actually got out of line at one point because I had spotted a stack of white papers. I wasn't even sure that this was the white paper I needed, but I knew that therein lay the possibility for accomplishing my goal.
Fortunately for me, I was actually correct. The paper I needed was in that stack, and I filled it out as accurately and carefully as I could (I have sometimes-illegible handwriting). I then tucked it into my passport, and utilized an iron grip on my passport. I was not letting that paper out of my sight. This continued for the entire trip, as I did not want to have another "funny" story like my coworker.
Ultimately, I did manage to keep the piece of paper in my possession the whole time, so I very happily returned it to the Immigration/Customs official when I departed. The sense of relief upon being waved through was quite palpable. In fact, I sent the Mild Wife a text message as soon as I could, to let her know that I had managed to correctly navigate the local laws. It is amazing how much joy you can feel over a piece of paper that's roughly six square inches big (it really isn't very large).
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