Border Crossing into Serbia

So we had just been to Kosovo the day before heading to Serbia and right now there are some tensions between the two entities.  Rae had definitely done her research and in hindsight, trying to go from Kosovo to Serbia would no doubt have resulted in our being turned away at the border.  Going through Macedonia first though was still charting unknown waters and I think it is safe to say we were all very interested to see how this was going to go.  This trip had my first land border crossings and everywhere else I’d been so far in the world outside the US didn’t really check the passport thoroughly.  I was not accustomed to the border guard actually thumbing through and looking at where I’d been.  Every time I felt they were going to call me off the bus and ask me questions.  How much more so for Serbia!

So we’re on the night train from Skopje to Belgrade and we know that most of the trip will be through Serbia.  Only an hour or so into the trip and we easily pass out of Macedonia, the exit stamp clearly made.  A little ways more down the track and we reach the moment of truth.  It’s late but we’re wide awake.  I think the best way to picture the guard that we got is a guy of bulk build but not fat, gruff to the point of irritated and angry but not quite.  This is my interpretation and he might just have been tired or recently lost a game of poker.  Who knows?  Well he takes Jeff’s passport, glares at it and him, stamps it (I think he stamped it right then) and then makes a vague motion suggesting he needs to check something and put it in his pocket!  The same went for Rae and me.  Another guard goes by and they jabber something and I swear there were glances our way.  Well the guard continues checking everyone else and is gone for about 5-10 minutes.  It could have been shorter but when you’re trying to pass into a country that has some tension with your own plus one you just came from, it makes you nervous.  The same guard comes sweeping back in and, to my worst fears, taps Jeff on the shoulder and motions him to follow him off the train.  Rae and I start to get up thinking to follow but he says we should stay.  Hoo-boy.

Another 10 minutes or eternity goes by in which we wonder what they asking Jeff.  I imagined questions pertaining to politics that I’m not comfortable answering in a relaxed and friendly atmosphere.  Jeff comes back smiling then chuckling and then laughing quietly out loud while handing our passports back to us.  He tells us that he followed the guard a ways down the station as he met up with two other guards.  They proceed into a guard hut of some kind but when Jeff tries to follow, they say he should stay outside.  He has no coat and another person is there and Jeff merely says, “passport?” and they nod.  Jeff says the guards were inside not really doing much and then they were laughing.  Near the end of the time frame we were waiting in the train, the original guard just opens the door and hands the passports back to Jeff and motions to go!  Wha?!  Jeff thinks it might have been some sort of joke or game they were playing.  After he told the story to us, it did seem that was probably the case.  We were still strung up on adrenaline but the train was moving and we were in Serbia.  Our passports that had both an entrance and exit stamp from the Republic of Kosovo now had an additional stamp over them – the nullification (in the Serbians eyes) of the stamp and our having ever left (or entered I guess) Serbia before then.  I’ll include a picture when I have it.  So there you go.  The rest of the trip involved trying to get some sleep as we made our way to Belgrade.