Afghan Visa
Friday, March 24, 2006
Went to get my Afghan visa today. The Afghan consulate is in a leafy quiet neighborhood of the Cantonment area of Peshawar. It was walking distance from my hotel. I knew I was getting close when I reached a street with a guardhouse and gate blocking the street. There were many soldiers idling about toting assault rifles. It was not just the Afghan consulate on this street, a number of Pakistani government offices could also be found here.
The simplicity of the Afghan Consulate office surprised me, but Afghanistan is one of the poorest countries in the world and probably does not have a lot of money to spare for government offices. The consulate was a collection of low buildings around a dusty courtyard. The visa office was a simple building with bare concrete floors with a dozen cheep plastic chairs in the waiting area. Getting my visa involved and odd back and forth ritual where I had to shuttle my visa application from the visa office to the consular officers office repeatedly. First I filled out an application at the at the visa office. I was then dispatched to the consular officers office; the consular officer reviewed it for a minute, scribbled something, and then sent me back to the visa office. At the visa office I was told I had to pay $30. Only they couldn't take the money there. I had to make a deposit at a bank nearby. I didn't know where the bank was so a guy from their office ran to the bank to make the deposit for me. After about 10 minutes he returned with the required deposit slip (but not my change). With the deposit slip I returned to the consular officers office. All the men at the Afghan consulate were traditionally dressed in shalwar kameez and turbans or white skill caps, except for the consular officer who was well dressed in a sharp suit. He spoke excellent English and seemed extremely bored with his job. I asked him if he saw many tourists. He said not many real tourists, but he did say many people apply for visas because since the international aid money has been pouring in everyone wants to go to Afghanistan to work. In fact there were a couple African men getting visas at the office when I was there. They were with a Russian guy (with a Kazakhstan passport) who was helping them through the process. Afghanistan seemed like a funny place for Africans to look for work, but as I would discover in Kabul, there are people from all over the world coming to Afghanistan to work. Anyways back to the visa. Now that I had the second signature from the consular officer I gave my application back to the visa desk. This only meant that I now had to wait a couple hours for my visa. I went out briefly to get my lunch, but I came back quickly. It was Friday, the Muslim day of prayer. I knew they would shut down in the afternoon to go to the Mosque. Good think I waited, because at noon they shut down the office and returned passports to those who were waiting (tough luck if you weren't there, they were off to the mosque). Outside the embassy I was approached by a man in a plain shalwar kameez who said he was a police officer and asked why I was visiting the Afghan consulate, what my name was, and what my passport number was. He was writing the information on scraps of paper. It seemed kind of shady, but I'm glad I complied. When the same man approached one of the African men, the African man got very upset, "Why do you want my passport!" and resisted any attempt to get his passport number. At this a couple uniformed Pakistani policemen with assault rifles came running to support the man I thought was a little shady. I guess the plain-clothes policeman was legit after all.
The American consulate was also in the neighborhood and I thought as long as I was close I should stop by to register myself. My plan was to cross the Afghan border Saturday, so it seemed like a good idea to let my government know. The American Consulate was significantly more fortified than the Afghan consulate. There was an armored car mounting a large machine gun parked in front of a network of jersey barriers blocking the approach. As usual there were many soldiers with assault rifles. At the guardhouse I was told to call and make an appointment. Because of security concerns "drop-ins" were not allowed.
That night returned to the old city with Ali and Sara for dinner at a really cool hotel restaurant. The Khan Klub is in a very cool building that has an amazing mix of Indian and Western architecture. The food was great too.
Went to get my Afghan visa today. The Afghan consulate is in a leafy quiet neighborhood of the Cantonment area of Peshawar. It was walking distance from my hotel. I knew I was getting close when I reached a street with a guardhouse and gate blocking the street. There were many soldiers idling about toting assault rifles. It was not just the Afghan consulate on this street, a number of Pakistani government offices could also be found here.
The simplicity of the Afghan Consulate office surprised me, but Afghanistan is one of the poorest countries in the world and probably does not have a lot of money to spare for government offices. The consulate was a collection of low buildings around a dusty courtyard. The visa office was a simple building with bare concrete floors with a dozen cheep plastic chairs in the waiting area. Getting my visa involved and odd back and forth ritual where I had to shuttle my visa application from the visa office to the consular officers office repeatedly. First I filled out an application at the at the visa office. I was then dispatched to the consular officers office; the consular officer reviewed it for a minute, scribbled something, and then sent me back to the visa office. At the visa office I was told I had to pay $30. Only they couldn't take the money there. I had to make a deposit at a bank nearby. I didn't know where the bank was so a guy from their office ran to the bank to make the deposit for me. After about 10 minutes he returned with the required deposit slip (but not my change). With the deposit slip I returned to the consular officers office. All the men at the Afghan consulate were traditionally dressed in shalwar kameez and turbans or white skill caps, except for the consular officer who was well dressed in a sharp suit. He spoke excellent English and seemed extremely bored with his job. I asked him if he saw many tourists. He said not many real tourists, but he did say many people apply for visas because since the international aid money has been pouring in everyone wants to go to Afghanistan to work. In fact there were a couple African men getting visas at the office when I was there. They were with a Russian guy (with a Kazakhstan passport) who was helping them through the process. Afghanistan seemed like a funny place for Africans to look for work, but as I would discover in Kabul, there are people from all over the world coming to Afghanistan to work. Anyways back to the visa. Now that I had the second signature from the consular officer I gave my application back to the visa desk. This only meant that I now had to wait a couple hours for my visa. I went out briefly to get my lunch, but I came back quickly. It was Friday, the Muslim day of prayer. I knew they would shut down in the afternoon to go to the Mosque. Good think I waited, because at noon they shut down the office and returned passports to those who were waiting (tough luck if you weren't there, they were off to the mosque). Outside the embassy I was approached by a man in a plain shalwar kameez who said he was a police officer and asked why I was visiting the Afghan consulate, what my name was, and what my passport number was. He was writing the information on scraps of paper. It seemed kind of shady, but I'm glad I complied. When the same man approached one of the African men, the African man got very upset, "Why do you want my passport!" and resisted any attempt to get his passport number. At this a couple uniformed Pakistani policemen with assault rifles came running to support the man I thought was a little shady. I guess the plain-clothes policeman was legit after all.
The American consulate was also in the neighborhood and I thought as long as I was close I should stop by to register myself. My plan was to cross the Afghan border Saturday, so it seemed like a good idea to let my government know. The American Consulate was significantly more fortified than the Afghan consulate. There was an armored car mounting a large machine gun parked in front of a network of jersey barriers blocking the approach. As usual there were many soldiers with assault rifles. At the guardhouse I was told to call and make an appointment. Because of security concerns "drop-ins" were not allowed.
That night returned to the old city with Ali and Sara for dinner at a really cool hotel restaurant. The Khan Klub is in a very cool building that has an amazing mix of Indian and Western architecture. The food was great too.
posted by TravelWriterWannaBe at 2:48 AM
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