woensdag, 26 januari 2000 22.02
Some setbacks and more fun.
Where to start with this weeks events:
I do not know anymore. This week was too much. Too much of the unexpected, too much of the expected. You see, I start with contradicting myself, within the first line of the paragraph.
Reading back last weeks article, there are two hings that stay with me: 1. Works on Sylphe’s stringers were to start this week and 2. That Turkey is a great place. Well…..to come down with the reality of this Wednesday ….neither is true. Turkey sucks and work has not started. By the way, they are not linked to one and the same object or reason.
Turkey sucks……let me be clear. I should have been in Amsterdam with Marit, who I have not seen for 1,5 month. Which is okay by our standards, but just for all you friends out there, we are trying to improve the intervals in between visits. So I tried, but failed miserably. I am stuck here in Turkey and can not leave. (This only happened once to me in Africa on al those visits. And for a good reason; I was carrying bloodsamples onboard a Swissair plane, suspective of being contaiminated with AIDS (according to the pilot) and thrown out of the plane on the tarmac.…., so this time it must be special). Nothing spectacular (and illegal) like this at all. What was the case: I had entered Turkey with Sylphe, who was stamped into my passport. Rightfully so, otherwise I coud sell her, and avoid taxes, VAT and other money sources. So the Turkish customs put a nice stamp in my passport, stating that I was not allowed to leave the country, unless accompanied by Sylphe. Now, you all know that Sylphe is on land, in a yard, and not to be relaunched for the next 5 months or so. So……. If I wanted to go to Holland, how to overcome the obstacle of the airport customs. “HAVE the samp removed from your passport, Roland”. Good, sound advice and thank you for the tip!!!. I spent the last month worrying about this procedure. Because it was rather vague. On asking around, one shipping agent advised me to fake that my passport was stolen, in order to obtain a new one and be able to leave the country. AHA, apparantly it really is difficult to have the official stamp removed from your passport. I had offers of people arranging the whole affair for 350$, but this goes against my integrity for not paying any bribes.
And so I ended up in the customs office myself, on a grim, cold Monday morning. Now, imagine the Rotterdam container terminal, all these forklifts flying around, bitterly cold, snow everywhere and in between you had some small ‘offices’ for the customs people. These people know everything about the clearing of a contaner full of VCR’s or a boat full of Daihatsu cars, but to have a stamp of a sailyacht taken out of a passport…..?? So, I saw all officials. And when I say all, I mean all. In the mean time (turkish language still not mastered) this was accompanied by hands and feet language and every agent (that was in the same office for another reason) to get involved. After 5 hours I had enough of it. This was leading no way. Enough of faces that looked at me pittyfull, enough of customs faces saying that this was a problem. I wanted to go home, to Marit and have the stamp removed from my passport. Back to the old (MSF) tactics…… Where is the boss????? It worked, I was finaly shown into an office, where I found an older gentleman, speaking fench. The whole situation was explained to him (I was still being accompanied by some 8 or 9 agent-‘friends’), and again the shoulders go direction air.
The reaction must have shown on my face. The documents I had obtained, upon entry into Turkey, clearly state that it foresees in the possibility to leave a yacht for a longer period in Turkey. But how the procedure actually works……….no idea. In the end, he got desperate too. He called his boss (……..this just to prove that everyone has a boss.) He was in office outside the present premises. So a car arrives, we drive off. (Kinshasa 1999, lesson no. 1: never get into a car with the customs-director next to you………you end up in jail) This time we really end up on the doorstep of the director. He apologizes for the inconvenience, countersigns my documents and says that everything can be processed now. I return to the maze of small offices, between the containers, and get lost again. Not physically, but in the paperwork. Although signed by the Director, it did not state on which form this had to be processed…….. I left the premises, two hours later…….Unsuccesfully. Defeat at full daylight.
Coming back to Tuzla, only to discover that they had not started on the works of Sylphe. Although clearly discussed last Friday, they did not start!!!!!!!
I write a diplomatic fax to the Director, explaining that although he signed the document, I created “ an unforeseen and unprecedented obstacle for his people”. Copy to the Dutch Consulate. (I will win…….no matter)
My visa expired the next day, but I was still here. I cancelled my airline ticket. AND I DID NOT PLAN SO. Waking up the next day, with full energy to try Turkish-bureaucracy again, I leave my appartment. My car is normally parked in front of the door. There was only snow covering the street. CAR GONE. Oh yes, that is all I needed for the start of yet another day. I stared for two minutes to the empty spot, before I believed my eyes. Not only had the car gone, but in the back it had almost all of my clothes for the laundry.
No car, no progress on Sylphe, not being able to leave the country, no clothes………
So, I walk to the corner of the street, where the ‘dolmus’ (local taxibus) normally stops, to take me to the center of town. It is bitterly cold. I am still not wearing socks (not due to the lack of clothes, but free choice), freezing my toes off and am waiting for the bus. I notice a woman across the street, nicely sheltered from the snow and wind. When a bus pulls up, she comes over and we both get in. Half the bus looks at me, but I am used to that in Tuzla. At the center of Tuzla the bus does not stop, although I stood up and walked over to the door. The driver (nor any of the passengers) speaks english. Having left the center of Tuzla, I realise this must not be one of the ‘regular’ dolmus-busses, but a private one. They also realise they should not have me onboard. And pull over. I leave the bus in the middle of nowhere, further away from a taxi, than where I started. I walk back.
With full energy we tackle the Turkish bureaucracy again, in order to have the stamp removed from my passport.
Yesterday, customs made clear, that they needed some one from the yard, to officially declare that SYLPHE was in their hands. In their custody. Not to be sold off and made profit from. So we decided (after the visit to the police to declare the theft of my car) to take the driver of the yard-director (and an official yard-stamp!!!!). If this is bureaucracy, this is how it works: a stamp means everything, who you are, is unimportant (lesson 2 in Africa). So accompanied by my ‘yard-representative’, I show up again at the customs offices. I get tea offered. This makes a whole change and the result of my fax?? Half an hour later it becomes clear that it is not my fax, They still do not know how to proceed. Lesson 3, learnt in Macedonia,: if you have a cellular phone and the number of the Director….call him on the spot and hand him over to the “unwilling’ official. Miracles happen. The official turns white as he is beig told off by the Director, papers appear where no papers where before, the Law book comes out and suddenly there is a paragraph which states your case, and thirty minutes later your stamp is removed from the passport. As simple as that.
On the way back to Tuzla I drop in a travel agency, to book my flight home to Amsterdam for the following day.
The next morning, I walk to the corner of the street again, waiting for a dolmus. Again, I notice the woman across the street sheltering from the snow and the wind. Again, it is her private bus that shows up first, and she boards. Just before the doors close, she calls me in as well. “Tuzla?”, she asks. “Yes” is my answer. Half the bus starts laughing, but this time they stop in the center of town, to let me off. I do not have to pay,…. of course.
Neither did I have to pay for my passport; no bribe, nor no 350$. And today they started on Sylphe. We agreed that 35 of the small, intemediair frames and 22 of the main frames wil be preplaced. It will take two weeks, Inshallah.
But first I will go to Holland for a week. I will check upon Sylphe’s progress, after I have checked upon Marit
Love roland