So I went through a visa change via Kish Island.
It turns out that Kish (كيش) is a Free Zone area, which is to say that it is tax-free and has its own semi-autonomous immigration authority, police force, etc. It’s a desert like most of the Persian Gulf region. And people there speak Farsi and (occasionally) broken English and Arabic.
I left Dubai around 9:30 am, arriving in Kish some 45 minutes later. The women were given headscarves to wear — the first sign that we were now in the Islamic Republic of Iran. After getting through immigration (one of the few places outside India where Indian citizens are allowed to enter the country without a visa [and stay up to 14 days]) I was whisked off to the Farabi ‘Hotel’. Here we were all jammed into a corner, relieved of our passports and given tokens in their stead, while we waited for our return flights to Dubai. Fortunately for me, my father had already faxed a copy of my new visa to the hotel before I got there. After our passports were taken, we were led — nay, marched — into our ‘accommodations’ — a 15m × 20m hall with eight beds on the right-hand side (“only for the ladies”) and some uncomfortable cafeteria tables, chairs and old battered couches for the rest of us. Most of us immediately left.
I accosted the guy who led us to the hall, asking him whether I could take an earlier flight home, since I already had a visa fax. He told me that there were only two flights a day to Dubai, and the first one (on the plane on which I came to Kish) had already left. I asked him where I could make a call, and he pointed out the Business Center.
I made my way to their ‘Business Center’ to make a phone call — no public telephone booths and no telephones in the hall. The Business Center turned out to be a waiting room of sorts and a request/payment counter, with one computer in the corner with dial-up access (six Dirhams an hour). They had four phones and about forty people waiting to use them. They had me write down the telephone number and wait (fortunately, I had Thomas Harris’ Red Dragon to keep me company) while the folks before me finished their calls. Their system is thus: they call out each number before they dial it. If no one responds (or, more importantly, they don’t notice anyone responding), they move to the next number. If they notice someone indicating that he’s ready to call, they direct him to one of four ‘cabins’ containing the handsets (really just damping hoods) and dial the number themselves. When the other party picks up, they transfer the call to the customer’s handset.
I had to wait a good fifteen minutes before I could call home. Charge: one U. A. E. Dirham per hour. Everyone accepts U. A. E. Dirhams on the island — more readily than the local currency, the Toman.
Fortunately for me, I was well-engrossed in the text of Red Dragon, so the time passed pretty quickly. Toward the end, I had a bit of the scare — my return reservation was open, which is to say that my travel agent had not confirmed it. Upon reaching the airport around two hours before the flight, I made my way to the check-in counter, which was manned by two guys in yellow coveralls. (This should have tipped me off to the fact that their advice should have been disposed of.) Neither spoke English particularly understandably (the accent of Kish residents is just plain odd), but I could make out that they meant for me to head toward the airline’s office in the airport for further information.
In the office, I found fellow passengers showing their tickets to a guy wearing the airline’s staff uniform. He indicated to them that they should wait until 5 p.m., which was when the flight would board. In my case, however, he indicated that I should get my reservation confirmed at the ticketing office next to the Farabi Hotel.
Fearing that I might be stranded on the island for another day, I hired a taxi (five Dirhams) back to the hotel, then visited the airline ticketing office. There, I found about twenty people involved in an altercation with the woman staffing the counter. It turned out that the next flight back to Dubai with any seats available was to leave the morning of the 29th! I quietly got my reservation confirmed for the 29th. (I suppose it’s still confirmed, somewhere, despite the fact that I’m already back in Dubai . . . I didn’t see any computer at the ticketing counter.)
I called home again, and my father said he’d enquire about the situation. Then I spoke to some other Indians who were standing around and chatting, and gleaned from them the fact that there’s another ‘hotel’ across the street providing beds for the night at Dh. 25 a night, while the Farabi cost Dh. 35 per night per bed. (Whole rooms were relatively much more expensive.) In the meantime, a travel agency next to the Kish Air office opened after lunch break. I enquired about the earliest flight to the U.A.E. (Dubai, Sharjah, Abu Dhabi, anything at all), but apparently, even flying from Kish to a bigger airport and then back to the U.A.E. would take a lot of time. In the end, the guy at the counter asked me to come back at 9:45 p.m. and he would see what he could do about putting me on a flight back home the next day. (I wonder if he waited for me.) The fare: 290 dirhams (what I paid for both ways + hotel facilities).
I called home again and was told that the Kish Air office here had registered surprise at being told about the situation. “He has a Dh. 295 ticket! This should not be happening!” Apparently they have fare slabs and the readiness with which they provide a confirmed seat to any given passenger depends on the fare having been paid. Armed with this information, I made my way back to the airport and confronted the guy who told me to get my reservation confirmed. The moment I mentioned the price, he asked me to rush to the check-in counter and came up after, the check-in operative apprised him of the issue, following which I was promptly issued a boarding pass. I called home again, breaking the good news, and I heard my father relax.
Upon returning to Dubai, I was somewhat unsurprised to find that, like Sharjah airport, Dubai airport also iris-scans all visitors. However, unlike Sharjah airport, their iris scanners aren’t frequently broken and even if they were, Dubai Police is known for its better judgement — the last time I flew Sharjah→Muscat→Sharjah, their iris scanner system failed and no one was allowed to proceed to immigration — a good two-and-a-half hours — before their iris scanners came up again; I doubt the same sort of treatment would be dealt out at Dubai airport.
Collecting my Dh. 1,500 deposit was much more of a struggle, though — there was a long line of people waiting to receive their deposit refunds. The line to make the deposits had been longer in the morning, but fortunately, my father had managed to snag a policeman patient who expedited my deposit and check-in at Dubai airport. There was no one around to similarly expedite my deposit recovery. It must have taken us a good half hour to get the money back, and this was after another clerk came in to handle deposit receipt.
Anyway, all’s well that ends well, though I don’t care to repeat this particular experience. Perhaps I’ll fly Kyiv Aircraft Repair Plant (not kidding about the name of that airline) again next time; even with the massive delay at the iris scanners, I was out at 4:30 p.m., while with Kish Air, I only managed to leave around 7:15 p.m.
Incidentally, my ssh write-up is part of the current Linux.Ars draft. Check it out.
