Visas and taxes

Having recently gone through the US visa application process with my Ukrainian husband, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gleeful revenge when I read this article about the “new” visa application procedures Ukraine is introducing for foreign tourists. I’d love to see some of those State Department folks go through the humiliating (and expensive) hoops of fire that our embassies call “visa application process.”

After his interview with the embassy official, during which their goal seemed to be to trap even the likes of Mother Theresa in lies, Igor rather meekly said to me, “You know, after this experience, I really don’t want to go to your country.” And his interview was rather mild compared to the many horror stories I’ve heard.

I myself was left disillusioned and disappointed with my country, too. The What’s On article captures beautifully the standard practice of many embassies in Ukraine. Would we accept similar treatment of our own citizens?

As of 1 April, when the new law comes into effect, all foreigners wishing to visit Ukraine will have to undergo a complicated and extensive visa application process. The process of applying for a visa for Ukraine will have to be commenced a minimum of six weeks before travel… By the new law, it is also compulsory that the interview itself is as humiliating and degrading as is humanly possible, and that all applicants are treated with the utmost suspicion… It is necessary they prove (a romantic) relationship is ‘real’ and they will not be a flight risk… Applicants will also have to prove their earnings in their home country to further ensure they will return once their visa has expired… The visa fee will be $500 to start with, and this will be paid along with the initial application and will not be refundable should the application be denied, which is highly likely as, according to the law, at least 50% of applications have to be rejected.

And all this is only for visitor visas. Obtaining a work permit for Ukraine is already a difficult task that requires that all foreigners can only take a job here if no Ukrainian can perform the task to the same standard. Under the new law, this criteria is going to be much more strictly enforced, and the candidate will have to prove their suitability by providing diplomas, a CV, and by sitting a series of oral and written exams on the subject. Obtaining a work permit in no way guarantees a work visa to go with it, and the system of applying for such a visa will be even more rigorous than that of a visitor visa.

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In another, non-April Fool’s Day, conundrum – how do I file my US taxes when my spouse doesn’t have a U.S. social security number? The most I can find on the IRS website is that my spouse should apply for one. Frankly, since we do not live in the US and neither of us earns money from a U.S. organization, I really don’t see the reason for him to get a SSN. Any ideas or suggestions, anybody?

Customs

I’m not writing this time about the kind of customs I usually enjoying sharing with you – the cultural traditions and stuff like that. This time I’m writing about those bastards at the Ukrainian “government department that collects taxes paid on goods coming into a country“. My new least favorite thing in Ukraine.

In my 2 1/2 years living in Ukraine, I have received a decent number of packages from abroad – some sent by family and friends, some sent by companies from whom I’ve made a purchase (like Amazon.com, Shutterfly, etc.). I’m used to the fact that delivery dates are completely unpredictable and inconsistent – sometimes it takes a couple weeks, sometimes more than a month (what on earth the Ukrainian post office does with those packages for weeks on end, I’ll never understand). But, as far as I know, I’ve received every package that’s been sent to me, eventually.

In early January this year, I found some great sales at my beloved Eddie Bauer’s online store, and I ordered 3 pairs of winter pants. Total price of order – about $100. I cringed a bit when another $42 was tacked on for shipping and handling to Ukraine, but I really needed winter pants, and since I know and trust and love Eddie Bauer, I made the order. Within a couple of days, EB notified me that my package was on the way. Their optimism that I could expect delivery “in two weeks” was just so darn cute. I figured a month, which would mean the heart of usually horrible February when those wool pants would be really handy.

January passed. Nothing. February passed. Nothing. March arrived, the weather improved and even though I knew I wouldn’t need the wool pants until next winter, I couldn’t help wondering if I’d ever actually receive them. I decided if I didn’t have any sign of them by the end of March (2 1/2 months from shipping date), I would write to EB and ask for a refund.

Lo and behold, March 25, a friendly UPS man arrived at the UN House with a package for me. The receptionist called me to the lobby to sign for it, and she mentioned something about paying 265 hrivna ($53). “Ничего себе!” I muttered (“Not bad!”). I met the delivery man with a smile, knowing that whatever bad news he had to deliver, he was, after all, only the messenger. He pulled out some documents, said that there was a fee of 265 hrivna, and showed me where to sign.

“I’ve been waiting for this package for over 2 months, and now I have to pay for the privilege of receiving it?” I asked. “I know it’s not your fault, but come on, this is ridiculous.”

To his credit, the UPS guy was very sympathetic and polite. He said that something has happened in the customs office since the start of the new year. They have packages there from December still, and they have been releasing only 2 or 3 a day. “It’s a total nightmare,” he said.

“And what’s with this 265 hrivna?” I asked. “I’ve received lots of packages in the past and never had to pay any fees to receive them. And excuse me, but 50% tax! The clothes are worth only $100, and I have to pay $53 more, on top of the U.S. taxes I already paid for them?!”

Again, the UPS guy was polite and patient. He reiterated that something has been funky with customs since January. He said he feels so sorry for the people he delivers to, he wishes he could help them, give them some phone number to call and make a complaint. He shrugged and stated the only thing one can say in Ukraine in these situations – “Ну, что делать?” (“Well, what can you do?”) Poor guy, his job must really suck.

I told him that there was no way I was going to pay $53 in taxes for $100 worth of clothes. He nodded understandingly, gave me some UPS phone numbers to call, and wrote “Delivery refused” on the bill.

Igor, bless his heart, does a lot of phone calling for me to various Ukrainian bureaucracies. He called the UPS office the next day and reported that the lady there said basically the same thing the delivery guy had – the customs office has been doing this since the start of the year, and they at UPS don’t understand themselves what has changed or why.

After checking the Eddie Bauer website for their refund policy (which states they don’t refund shipping and handling fees), I wrote to EB customer service and explained the situation. I asked if they could resend the package to my parents’ address in the US. Unfortunately, the reply was that they can’t redirect a package like that, but that if I placed a new order for the items, the would ship it for free to the US address. I was impressed, although still disappointed since the items I had ordered were all sale items and aren’t in their website catalog anymore.

So, I expected that thanks to the Ukrainian customs bastards, I was out $42 and had nothing to show for it except a not so good story. The happy ending to this story, though, is that Eddie Bauer gave me a full refund, even shipping costs. I heart Eddie Bauer! Pity I can’t support their awesome business from Ukraine.

Has anybody else encountered this kind of thing this year? Anybody know what the heck is going on at customs? Can anybody explain to me who thinks 50% custom taxes are a good thing and why?

In memory

Olga Markovna Melinevskaya
1927-2008

Igor’s grandmother passed away Friday morning. Her family often teased her for having been preparing for her death for 30 years. Somehow, every morning was a surprise to her that she had lived through another night. She was a strong and active woman, though. It took her body 8 days to settle down and let go after she suffered a stroke last week.

She was a lovely woman. She made me feel welcome from the first time I met her. I am glad I knew her.

Taking root

Kruglik was the first youth center I visited, in February 2006, just a couple months after starting with Chornobyl Recovery and Development Programme. Coincidentally, Kruglik was the first youth center established under CRDP, in 2004.

As we toured the small one-floor building, I admired the plants lining the windowsills. I really enjoy houseplants, and in my house in Columbus I had a pretty decent jungle taking over my sunroom. One of the first things I noticed, and really liked a lot, in Moldova, and later in Ukraine as well, is that there are plants in nearly every office and store. They can range from the “fancy” potted plants you usually expect a business to purchase for its reception area, to simpler ones, obviously planted and tended by the staff, in clay or plastic pots (sometimes even in makeshift “pots” made from the bottom half of a one- or two-liter plastic bottle). I’ve seen most of the typical office plants – peace lillies, african violets, ficus trees – as well as ones I never would have imagined indoors – all kinds of vines (some that I would have thought of as weeds, actually), sapling oak trees, and plenty of other “wild” looking plants. I love that plants are so integrated into the indoors here.

In the Kruglik youth center, there was one interesting plant that I’d never seen before, and as I was admiring it, the ladies asked if I’d like a cutting to take back to Kyiv with me. I wasn’t sure it would survive the hour drive in what was one of the coldest winters on record, but I figured why not?

When I got home, I put the small cutting in a jar of water. Something like this:

A little over two years later, I now have two big pots brimming with the beautiful bushy guys.

And another pair of cuttings growing roots in the jar of water.

I’ve been to Kruglik probably three or four times since that first trip two years ago. I always admire the mother plant to my cuttings, and I always give an update on the progress of her offspring. The last time I was in Kruglik, in November 2007, I was startled to see beautiful little flowers all over the mother plant. I had no idea it flowered! I started to worry that mine had never flowered, but the ladies assured me it eventually would. It just takes some time for it to take root and be ready.

I have felt like that plant many times over the last few years – cut off, uprooted, replanted, not quite comfortable, slow to settle in, not ready to commit myself and bloom in this spot.

I know moving to Kyiv caused many of the same feelings in Igor. He had a good job in Korosten, he loved working with the Regional Development Agency, he was a well-known and well-connected man in town. He gave up a lot so that we could live together. He jumped in with both feet at his new job, though, and he was so busy with work that he didn’t have time to go back to Korosten for nearly two months. After his first trip home, I asked him how he felt, if he didn’t regret moving to Kyiv. “No,” he said. “But I don’t feel at home anywhere right now. Korosten is not my home anymore, but Kyiv is not my home either.” I knew exactly how he felt.

A few months later, when he was in Korosten without me for a weekend, I called him in the evening.
“I’m ready to go home,” he said
“What? You want to move back to Korosten,” I wasn’t sure I had understood.
“No, to Kyiv, to you. My home is where you are.”

During Igor’s visa interview at the American Embassy, the foreign service officer asked him why we had not applied for immigrant status for him. “Because we don’t want to live in the US,” he answered. “We want to live in Ukraine.”

As he told me about this exchange, after the interview, a realization came ove me. I am ready to make a home with Igor. I want to settle in and take root.

Believe it or not, the next day I saw the first flower on my plant.

OK, it’s a tiny one, not very strong yet, but it’s there. My plant has taken root, too.

Who you callin’ free?

A colleague of mine went to California last autumn to give birth to her first child. She herself is Turkish, her husband is American. He couldn’t be there the whole time with her, so she took her Ukrainian housekeeper, who we’ll call Irina (who would be the baby’s nanny when my colleague went back to work) to help her. The Ukrainian woman was thrilled to go to the US, it was a dream come true to spend a few months in glamorous, exciting, rich America, beyond belief that she was so lucky – and in San Diego no less!

She spent months on pins and needles, eager with anticipation. She packed all of her most fashionable and chic clothes – super-mini skirts, super high heels, the tightest most revealing tops you can imagine (“the more skin, the better” seems to be the motto in Ukrainian fashion).

Day 1, she wants to go straight to the beach. They settle in, spread out the towels, and she pulls out her cigarettes. “Smoking is not allowed on the beach,” my colleague tells her. Irina is dumbfounded. So she takes out a beer she brought along. “It’s against the law to drink on the beach” my colleague tells her, “and you actually have to follow the laws here,” she adds. Irina is becoming quite confused. A few minutes later, she starts to untie her bikini top for some topless sunbathing. “You can’t go topless here,” my colleague says.

Irina throws up her hands in digust. “America is free?! There is no freedom in America! This is ridiculous!”

Dreams and fantasies completely crushed, Irina was utterly depressed for the next two months. She stopped wearing make-up, dressed only in ratty jeans and an old t-shirt, and pined to get back to Ukraine where there is real freedom.

Igor got a visa!

Igor got a 5 year visa for the U.S.! Maybe it was silly to be stressed out about it, but we were. He had his interview last Thursday morning, and we’ve been on pins and needles since then waiting for the answer.

Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! We’re coming home this summer together!