Apparently, it’s more difficult to exit Afghanistan than to enter. I had no problems landing in Afghanistan but after four weeks of fun, my visa was about to expire so I had to pop over to Dubai to renew it.  Everyone said Dubai is a quick and easy place to renew – what no one told me – is flying out of Kabul International Airport is a complete pain.

My flight was scheduled to leave Sunday morning at 8:15am. When I booked it, I didn’t receive a confirmation email from the airline. No biggie – the last time I flew on Safi Air, they didn’t send one. So I wasn’t too concerned.

It probably shouldn’t surprise anyone that security at the airport is tight.  Before you even enter the airport grounds, passengers are required to step out of their cars and are patted down, while the vehicles are given the once over. 100 meters down the road, the process is repeated. However, this time,  I was asked to remove my luggage so it could be searched, while the car is given yet another cursory glance. No doubt most suicide bombers leave their explosives in the backseat in plain view.

Once  the police finished rummaging through my bag, it was off to the parking lot, where I paid my taxi and went through the fist terminal. Of course the guards wanted to see my ID and ticket – which I didn’t have- so I was a little concerned.  Fortunately, there was a Safi representative there and he waved me on.

At this point, I am on foot, walking in the rain and still nearly 400 meters from the the main terminal – and again, I am stopped and asked for my ID and ticket. However, this time, there was no Safi employee to help me. Fortunately, the friendly police officer, who continually reminded me of our friendship, said he would let me pass for the bargain price of just $10. I refused to pay and after ten minutes of explaining that I wasn’t going to pay, he finally let me through. Still, its nice to know, just ten bucks can get you past security in Kabul.

45 minutes after I arrived, I am now at the main terminal. But so are about 250 other travelers, and our bags are all being individually searched. I guess the lone x-ray machine wasn’t working. Compared to my luggage,  it appears as though most people are packed as if they are never coming back to Afghanistan. I knew immediately, this wasn’t going to be a quick line.

Once inside, I get my ticket and check my bag. I then hop in yet another line that is really noting more than a gaggle of people heading to Delhi and Dubai. Within minutes, the gaggle transforms into a riot for no real reason. They push, I push, people scream, chicks cluck and somehow I make it to passport control — where the fun really begins.

Immediately I was flagged and pulled out of the line. Its now 8am and I am little concerned I might miss my flight. Speaking in broken English, the cheery passport officer tells me I’ve overstayed my welcome in Afghanistan. Apparently, my visa has expired – though this is his interpretation, not mine.

My visa says two things. First,  “Good for one month,” – but it also says “good until March 30th.”

I arrive on Feb 27th and today its March 29th. The passport control officer claimed I over stayed my visa by two days. I of course countered that my visa said I was good until the 30th, and that a month is not defined  – and could be 28 days, 30 days or 31 days. Still, he was having none of rhetorical brilliance.

Finally, after 15minutes of arguing, I said, “I am just trying to leave Afghanistan, what do I

need to do to leave.” He responded, “OK, just go.”

Thanks.

It’s now 8:20, five minutes after the plan was suppose to depart, and I finally arrive at the plane – where yet again, I am patted down and my visa is checked. Once again there is a problem – but the Safi people overruled the police officer and let me on. The flight was already late and they clearly weren’t going to let a little passport discrepancy delay the flight any longer.

So, now I am in Dubai, and thanks to the Afghan Embassy, I have a new six month visa. I had hoped to spend my remaining two days in Dubai lounging by a pool and enjoying the sun which shines here 360 days a year. Sadly, I arrived in the desert during the five day rainy season. So I am off to the Emerites Mall to watch rich Iranians ski down a fake ski slope. Ah, Dubai.