What kind of visa do I need?

November 12/13 Beijing

Like so many trips, this one started out with more story than actual travel.  The trip was supposed to be last month but because of the meeting of the Communist Party of China in Beijing, security was doubled, and visas were delayed.  When I started the visa process anew, I called the Embassy to get advice.  I have a long-term tourist visa for China, but wasn’t sure whether or not I could use it for a conference.  They advised me that I would need a different visa, a “non-business” visa, so I applied.  For that you need a letter of initiation, which I had, but which they wouldn’t accept because it was signed in English, and they wanted it signed in Chinese characters. Another letter of invitation was requested and submitted.  After a week I got a phone call from the Chinese embassy…telling me that I already had a visa.  I explained about the tourist/non-business visa, and they said not to worry.  Just use my tourist visa and don’t tell anyone at the border that I am attending a conference.

The trip started at the usual time: in the dark with the snow swirling across the highway.  Check in was a breeze, and the plane was on time.  Although I was booked in a middle seat, it was between a father and son, so they were happy to trade so I could have the window.  Both had freshly trimmed mullets – a hairstyle that I had naively believed was long gone.  Little mullet was about 5 and a charming conversationalist.  He told me all about his trip to Mexico with his cousins and we watched the interactive map as they plane headed to Vancouver.  He was a little perturbed when the plane appeared to overshoot Vancouver and then do a U-turn, but I explained that away as the pilot’s search for a good parking spot.  He was also a little concerned when the plane appeared, on the map, to be parked in the ocean…fortunately I let him climb over me to look out the window and assure himself that we were on terra firma.

Vancouver provided its usual array of Canadian fashion statements, perhaps the most outstanding being a down vest over a bare tummy.  We just don’t take winter the way other folks do.  I managed to buy gifts for my hosts, but, as usual, it took some searching to find Canadiana not “made in China”.  A stuffed moose and some dreamcatchers were the best I could do.  I considered little bottles of maple syrup, but my experience with Asians has been that they don’t get the appeal…and the thought of it leaking in my suitcase was pretty unappealing as well.

On to the plane for a very long and uneventful trip.  The gentleman next to me appeared to be practicing Tai Chi in his seat, but he was careful not to knock me and he didn’t slurp his noodles so I was fine with that.  Air Canada provided us with three meals, two of them quite good, but all of them chicken.  The chicken sandwich didn’t make the grade, but by then I didn’t want any more chicken anyway.  This flight provides two dinners, followed by a lunch, so it is a bit confusing for one’s body.  My tummy was telling me that one of them should have been breakfast.

When I got to immigration the office stared at my visa.  Then she called a large man in a uniform with a lot of gold braid and he stared at my passport, then at me, then at my visa.  Of course, since I had essentially told a lie on my immigration documents I got nervous.  Then they laughed and let me through.  No explanation.  Alan’s parents were there to meet me, which was lovely since I had been up for 24 hours by then.  They don’t speak a word of English, and I speak two words of Chinese so conversation was limited.

They have an interesting system for customs.  If you have nothing to declare you go in a separate lane. You have your passport scanned automatically and then you walk along a narrow hallway with x-ray machines at the end.  The hallway has several customs officers walking in it and they select some people to have their luggage x-rayed.  I wasn’t one of them.  After the x-ray, some people rejoined us in the hallway, and some got to go elsewhere, with an officer.

We set off into the city on the airport expressway, which seems to have about 5 lanes going each way.  Appeared is the operative word, however, as the traffic is more like a swarm, with 7 or 8 cars more or less fitting themselves into the lanes.  It’s all very polite, with minimal honking and no apparent swearing.  The drivers seem to understand the method, and I just relaxed and watched the sun go down.

Alan had booked me into a Chinese hotel (as opposed to a tourist hotel) – it’s convenient and cheap.  When we arrived, it took some effort to get checked in as no-one spoke any English.  Alan’s mom has an app on her phone that allows her to speak or write Chinese and then it writes in English, so we managed to do what we needed to do.  The reception desk struggled because they couldn’t find the entry stamp in my passport…for some reason, the immigration officer had stamped a page in the middle, no where near either an empty page or the visa page.  Once we used the translation app I managed to find the stamp.

In to bed and fast asleep within minutes.

 

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