Into the Torugart Pass Part III

So there I was, heading across the border from China to Kyrgyzstan through the snowy and desolate Torugart Pass. On hand, I had my entry visa papers with a slight typo on it so I was getting a bit nervous. As is, I get nervous standing in front of any immigration officer even with all my papers in order but usually if there are problems the worst that can happen is you get chucked on a plane the way you came. Not sure what they'd do with me at this remote border crossing.

We stopped at a military checkpoint just for a cursory check of the passports and a headcount of the people on board. As I was sitting in the front passengers seat of the mini bus, I had to open the door and hand over the passport to the soldier. Remnants of the soviet system still remain in Kyrgyzstan, the soldier had Eastern European Camouflage, a fur hat with a red star in the middle and of course an AK 47 Spetznas version nonchalantly slung over his shoulder with the barrel unnervingly pointed at my belly. He flipped through the passports, looked at our faces and let us go through.

After a couple of minutes we finally get to the immigration "office" which consisted of a bare concrete room separated into two sections by a flimsy divider and a phone booth sized heated kiosk in the middle where another soldier started checking our passports. His kiosk was heated because the rest of the room was not and so we lined up in silence in a room as cold as the mountain scape outside.

I was the last in line which didn't help me with my nerves at all. I kept thinking about what I would say, how I would convince him the typo was just that, a typo, where I would run to should everything go horribly wrong and how I would live off the land.

When my turn came, I handed my passport and papers over. The officer was similarly dressed to the one who came close to poking me with his AK 47 at the checkpoint. Red star in his fur cap, full on camo uniform and his AK was propped up against the wall of his cozy kiosk.

I watched intently as he scanned the visa papers, my passport, my face, back to the visa papers, back to my passport and then horrors, back to the visa papers. He looked at something intensely and then leaned forward towards me pointing at my passport. "Oh crap, here it goes" I thought to myself. I nearly blurted out "It's all a typo, that's all, please let me into your beautiful country, I don't want to go back to China" but then I noticed he was pointing at my date of birth. I looked over to him and he smiled and pointed at himself. It turns out we have the same birthday. With a sigh of relief, I took off my glove and shook the man's hand.

Needless to say, this was the most bizarre border crossing I've had. Even without the drama of my papers, meeting the most cheerful immigration officer in China, driving through desert and then snow, getting caught taking pictures at the border (on both sides) and getting checked at military checkpoints, it was just too good to be true. It sure beats handing over your passport at the airport and five minutes later picking up your bags and jumping in a taxi.