I have been in Russia for a while, busy re-uniting with the family and long-lost friends. I was supposed to have an internship in Hong Kong this summer, but things got immensely messed up (more venting on my part will come in a much more detailed post later), so for the next month I am a correspondent of a local newspaper, a TV anchor and a host of my own TV show (a little one, but still, a real one). Things are keeping me busy, so I don’t really have time to blog, but here is an interesting observation about Russia.
If a holder of an American passport or a Green Card flies into the US, they go through customs much faster than all those unlucky visa holders. The queues are always shorter, there seem to be more immigration officers on hand, and the smiles they dispense at the citizens are always nicer (NB: my personal observation, not a documented fact). If you enter Hong Kong with a permanent resident card, you just swipe the said card through a terminal — an voila, welcome home. This trend in general is true for the rest of the world — except for Russia.
Entering the Russian Federation is much easier for the foreigners than for the citizens of the Russian Federation. I was flying into Pulkovo-2 (international abbreviation LED) — an airport in St. Petersburg, which is dominated by the Russians returning from their European vacations. There are only two immigration booths for the Russians, while there were four or five for the foreigners.
The extremely unfriendly, sulking immigration officer (by the way, the ones working with the foreigner did smile at them; I tried taking a picture to prove, but was yelled at by the local security agents) went through an extensive number of visas in my passport and muttered something like, “why the f*** do you travel so much” (quoted verbatim, translation mine). She asked me how I “dared studying at the foreign university.” (because Moscow State is so much better than Yale, of course!) Then she asked me why my traveling passport looks worn-out. (because I travel a lot? An obvious answer). Then she finally — and very reluctantly — let me into my own country. I didn’t know if I should show extreme gratitude I was reluctantly allowed into my motherland — that’s what their demeanor suggested.
Welcome home, I guess.
PS: Apparently, Russia is actually one country with Belarus — or at least a union with it, according to the sign above the immigration booth at Pulkovo-2.
