The First Night
The Russian girl led us into a multi-leveled, small building with short flights of steps in between the levels. It was like a bad camp. A lot of beige. They brought us to a room with big wooden cubbyholes and lockers. The Russian girl told us to put our stuff away.
“You can…….take money. You can take…….few things.”
I grabbed my make-up bag for reasons that are not clear to me. Vanity, I guess. She looked inside, seeing a razor, nail clippers and tweezers.
“No, you not take this,” she said. I laughed. Of course not.
Continue reading Being Held [How Not to Travel Part 5]
“Stand aside, m’am,” the woman behind the glass said.
A short, serious looking man walked over, spoke to her then looked at me.
“Come with me,” he said. He had the paper copy of my passport in his hand. He directed me to a sectioned off part of the large room with a sign that said Border Control. There were a lot of people waiting. They looked sad and frustrated. There were two adjacent offices with doors open and a lobby of sorts. The short man started to walk off. I looked at him as if to say, “What now?”
“Someone will call you,” he said and left.
Continue reading You Shall Not Pass [How Not to Travel Part 4]