Schengen Visa in 2023: Mission Impossible?
The first time I really thought about this issue was in 2020, before the global pandemic. I was on an exchange semester in Lithuania, hanging out with newly-found friends with Iraqi passports. At the time, they were struggling to get their American visas to participate in the Summer Work and Travel program.
“What's the visa issue?” I asked.
“Well, they are super suspicious of people from Iraq. All embassies are. It's super difficult to get anywhere outside of Iraq: we often have to apply multiple times before we get the visa. It takes a long time and costs a fortune. To get a Schengen visa, you first obtain a Turkish visa and travel there to apply. It's a whole process,” one of my Iraqi friends told me.
I was surprised. At the time, I already had 15+ different visas for 10+ countries in my passport. I've never had any issues and often got a long-term multiple-entry visa. So when my Iraqi friends shared their concerns, I shrugged my shoulders.
I didn’t realize my passport privilege until I lost it.
It started in March 2022. I was studying in Bulgaria and decided to travel to Greece for the weekend. I went to the Greek embassy hoping for a warm welcome and at least a 1-year multiple-entry visa for the whole European Union.
What I encountered seemed unprecedented.
The embassy was full of Russian speakers: people with Russian, Belarusian, and Ukrainian passports. They didn’t even try to speak Greek, Bulgarian, or even English with the embassy employees. They were pissed.
When it was my turn, I already felt anxious. I handed a thick pile of documents to a tanned Greek man behind the glass.
“I’ll grant you the visa for just 2 days for your weekend trip,” the man said.
“How come?”
“That’s the policy now. So are you going to apply or what?”
I was confused but decided to apply. I didn’t believe they’d grant me a visa for just 2 days.
They did! I still went on that weekend trip and enjoyed my stay. When I was crossing the border back to Bulgaria, a Greek officer asked me,
“Why are you going back so early? Your visa only expires at midnight.”
I thought he was joking, so I laughed. But he kept on a serious face.
Maybe he knew that interaction was going to be my last time in the Schengen zone in a long time.
While I was in Greece, my Belarus-based family applied for a Bulgarian visa to witness my graduation. They were also told that the visas will last for a week, even though they had many Bulgarian visas beforehand.
While it is the ordinary situation for people with “weaker” passports, it was shocking for any Belarusian. As a nation, we gradually realized that we’ve lost our passport privilege.
After the trip to Greece, I went to apply for another visa, a work permit for Poland. The queue to the embassy was hopeful and full of smiling Belarusians with fake documents. Many of them came to prolong their visas, the first ones already granted based on fake documents.
Because my documents were real, I felt super calm — and I couldn’t be more wrong.
The consulate employees told me I’m not eligible for the visa I chose. In mixed Bulgarian and Polish, I tried to defend myself but was walked out by a security guard.
A week after that, after I consulted my sponsor, I returned to the embassy. I was confidently defending my rights, operating with terms and specific laws, and even naming officials. That allowed my passport in. I was beyond happy.
While my visa was under review, I got reassurance from the Polish bureaucracy that they talked to the council and the visa will be granted. Imagine my surprise when two weeks later, I got an empty passport.
“Why did the visa get rejected?” I asked.
“Everything is in the rejection letter. Now, please leave. Next!”
Of course, the rejection letter was too general and unhelpful. My Bulgarian residence permit was expiring in several days, so the only choice I had was to go back to Belarus with the hope to apply for a visa there.
From May 2022 to March 2023, I was waiting to apply for a visa in Belarus. It was a year with a rare night spent not crying. I was constantly planning what to bring to Poland and waiting for that email. Week after week, month after month.
It was a lost year, the time in-between.
When I finally received my visa in April 2023, I left Minsk in under 120 minutes. I fled the place as fast as my Iraqi friends.
If someone told me that in 2020, I’d laugh in their face.