Among the Russians.

Whenever I visit the Russian consulate, the sheer stress makes me age five years. Between last week and tomorrow, I will have gained fifteen years. 

I'm trying to get a Russian passport because as of last year, the rules have changed. Before, I was able to travel to Russian on a British passport with a Russian visa, but as of 2009, anyone who counts as a Russian citizen (and I do, apparently) may only travel to Russia on a Russian passport. One problem: I last used a Russian passport fourteen years ago. Additional problem: as of this year, I have changed my surname.

Still, I'm pretty optimistic when I approach the embassy for the second time. The first time, I was told that the consul who deals with name changes has gone AWOL and it's unclear when he'll be back. Why there isn't anyone to replace him, nobody knows. Especially since the working week at the consulate is four days long and they only deal with name changes between the hours of two and four. Never mind. I don't live in London, but I'm happy to come back.

The gurka at the gate recognises me. He's the most cheerful person in the building. The fat guy impatiently directs me to the wrong hall. When I finally get to window no.3, it turns out I should be at window no. 2 instead. I tell the middle-aged matron that I wish to change my name and offer her my deed poll. She squints at it, uncomprehending, shows it to the consul, who shrugs, and tells me that it's not a valid document. This floors me, though it really shouldn't surprise me that something that's a valid document in the UK carries no legal weight whatsoever on this tiny piece of Russian soil in the middle of London. I should have remembered to abandon common sense at the door.

I have to send that document to some office in Milton Keynes where it will be 'legalised' according to their standards. Who knows how long that will take. My trip to Russia is rapidly going down the tubes.

The matron notices that I'm staring at her incomprehensingly and says: "You're looking at me as if I'm speaking a foreign language. Do you understand me? Shall I speak slower? I'll speak slower." She even walks me to the main hall to show me the notice about what's required to change one's name. There is no mention of the Milton Keynes office.

She tells me to sit down and to talk to the consul once he's done with a bulldog-faced woman who's filling out a myriad documents. He seems to be helpful, though; he keeps reassuring her: "Don't you worry, we'll get it done today." Then he leaves the room.

The matron peeks at me through the window: "Did you speak to him?" "No. I thought he was still busy." She looks exasperated but tells me he'll see me shortly. I feel lost. I don't know the rules. I don't know when to jump in and to ask questions. I don't understand this unspoken order that everyone at the consulate seems to understand apart from me.

I sit and wait for an hour and forty minutes. A woman sits down opposite me and conversationally starts talking to me about her name change dilemma, as if I'm more knowledgeable than she is. No one really knows what's going on. I like the solidarity between fellow sufferers, erm, visitors. 

The consul finally turns his attention to me. The verdict? I need to apply for a Russian passport in my old name before changing it. Had I known that they're not at all interested in the name in my British passport, I would've started the whole process months ago. "Can I have two passports with two different names?" I explain that I have to go to Russian for work in the summer. "Our border guards don't give a toss about what name you've got in your British passport." Ideally, I should have the same name in both, but if that's not possible, then I can ratify my deed poll at their office, have it verified by the consulate once it's been translated into Russian and use it to explain the discrepancy between the passports when I go to Russia. 

Either that, or it might be easier to change my name back in English for the duration of the trip.

Going on their website, I discover that it takes three months to get a Russian passport, so time is of the essence. Tomorrow I'm to submit my documents and hope that everything works out before July.