Bureaucrats make the world go round - or at least that's what they'd have us believe. A love of forms and triplicate seems to have pervaded even the remotest corners of the world to such an extent that you can't even get lost in the wilderness without first asking permission, filling out reams of paperwork and collecting a bewildering array of stamps.
I am still unsure quite how many permits and letters you are supposed to have to travel along the Wakhan Corridor. In fact, no-one seems to know. Before leaving the UK we were given one list by Wakhan Tourism and the various embassies; another list was added in Ishkashim; and even in tiny Sarhad the police have their own ideas of what is required. Frustratingly for us, each check-point expects you to have everything it desires in place but singularly fails to communicate its demands back down the line to a point where you might actually be able to meet them. I have no inclination to drive eight hours back the way I've come to ask the police in Qila-e Panj for a permit they didn't know to give me, nor to return to Ishkashim to make another half dozen copies of my passport for burying in yet more archaic filing cabinets.
There are usually two ways around a paperwork problem: find a sympathetic ear in the upper echelons of whichever department is causing the trouble; or find an ear that will become sympathetic in exchange for a small payment in cash. Dollars still work best, even in today's unsteady climate, but you have to haggle hard and never reveal your hand else you are taken completely to the cleaners. Whilst in Europe and the US bribery and corruption are dirty words (we prefer to call them "fees"), the rest of the world is far more up front about what it expects: if you want something done, fixed or expedited, there's always a bill to pay.
I am still unsure quite how many permits and letters you are supposed to have to travel along the Wakhan Corridor. In fact, no-one seems to know. Before leaving the UK we were given one list by Wakhan Tourism and the various embassies; another list was added in Ishkashim; and even in tiny Sarhad the police have their own ideas of what is required. Frustratingly for us, each check-point expects you to have everything it desires in place but singularly fails to communicate its demands back down the line to a point where you might actually be able to meet them. I have no inclination to drive eight hours back the way I've come to ask the police in Qila-e Panj for a permit they didn't know to give me, nor to return to Ishkashim to make another half dozen copies of my passport for burying in yet more archaic filing cabinets.
There are usually two ways around a paperwork problem: find a sympathetic ear in the upper echelons of whichever department is causing the trouble; or find an ear that will become sympathetic in exchange for a small payment in cash. Dollars still work best, even in today's unsteady climate, but you have to haggle hard and never reveal your hand else you are taken completely to the cleaners. Whilst in Europe and the US bribery and corruption are dirty words (we prefer to call them "fees"), the rest of the world is far more up front about what it expects: if you want something done, fixed or expedited, there's always a bill to pay.
No comments:
Post a Comment