I just got back to Guinea a few hours ago, and have since enjoyed a spaghetti dinner with other volunteers at the house and the last shower I'll be taking for the next few months.
Though I didn't get into Guinea until 6pm today, I started to feel like I was in Guinea yesterday at 3pm at the airport in Chicago. When I went up to the check-in counter in O'hare the woman took my papers and passport and looked over them for a long time, too long. She asked me to confirm my final destination, which I did. She shook her head and told me that my visa to get into Guinea was no good.
Pardon??
She left to go print out a paper with visa regulations. She pointed out to me a clause that said the visa needed to be a sticker not a stamp, as my new 3rd year visa was. She directed me to her supervisor who told me the same thing. I inquired about whether this requirement was worldwide or specific to Guinea, because whoever wrote this requirement must not realize that Guinea just doesn't have stickers. Then the man told me that in fact requirement to have a sticker visa was written by Guinea itself.
So, if I'm understanding this correctly, the Guinean ministry of foreign affairs is only issuing stamp visas and at the same time saying that they won't accept stamped visas. Only in Guinea.
What should we do then?
Well, you're going to have to fax us a letter from the Guinean Embassy saying they'll accept it.
We get the number for the Guinean Embassy in the US and call it. No one answers. The phone rings and rings. I hang up, try again...and again. There is no one at the Guinean Embassy. On the Guinean side it's now 8pm on a Friday, meaning there will be absolutely no one at the ministry in Conakry to help, and even if there was, good luck trying to find their phone number.
By now I'm in tears, utterly panicking. I call the Peace Corps country director for help and explain the situation. I hand the phone off to the airline supervisor and they talk for a bit. They hang up and the supervisor makes a call to who knows where, starts speaking Dutch, then tells me to just go on ahead. No one really knows what will happen once I get to Conakry.
When I land in Guinea I start to get a little nervous about border control. I walk up to the window and hand my passport and entrance paper to the gendarme. The guy gives one quick glance at my old, expired visa, stamps it and says welcome to Guinea. And off I go.