Passport Timelines

Having been in and out of Türkiye for thirty-plus years, I’ve never been worried about overstaying my visa. Never. On one trip, when my daughter was a small child, her passport had expired, and that fact was not caught at the Istanbul airport. It wasn’t until we arrived for a day trip to a tiny island in Greece two months later that we were stopped.

It has been ingrained in my head that I must leave the country every ninety days, have my passport stamped in another country, and then return. I am religious about this. Ninety days. I’ve been doing it for over thirty years.

Then, we had the pandemic. We stayed in the U.S. and prepared our house to go on the market once the restrictions were lifted. When we could travel, we made our usual trip home to our apartment in Istanbul. And went about life.

Several months into the Turkish side of our lives, I made a trip outside the country, making sure I left before the expiration date of my visa, which was still valid. Because of the validity, I saw no reason to get another and re-entered Türkiye without issue. But when we went to the airport for the U. S. trip a few months later, the passport control officer sent me to what I call the “penalty box” at the opposite end of the airport.1

I overstayed my visa even though the dates in my passport were clear. I had come in with a valid e-visa and out within ninety days. I returned with a valid e-visa and again stayed less than 90 days. Neither the accounting clerk nor the second passport officer could tell me what I’d done wrong, only that I owed approximately $250 in Turkish lira.

The penalty box people do not take credit cards. You have to have cash. And yeah, the bank machines at the airport will not give more than $200 in lira.2 By this time, my husband is exasperated, and I’m angry because no one can tell me what I’ve done wrong. I suck in my words and follow along like a dutiful wife as he gets the way cleared for a second time.

Yes, I’m a lawyer. I know to read the statute and learn the rule. Have you tried to find a Turkish statute, much less read it in Turkish? I was never able to understand the reason for my overstay.

Then, damn it, if I didn’t do it again. Last year, I left at the ninety-day mark and headed to France. It was a great trip and I visited Lyon, Ceret, and Barcelona. Türkey had removed the need for Americans to obtain a tourist e-visa, so I breezed back into the country, again unworried about any issues. No one said a word to me at passport control.

When we left this past November, again, I was sent to the “penalty box.” However, this time, a very helpful passport officer explained that the rule had changed. The Schengen rule was applied even though Türkiye is not a member of those countries.3 Yes, I was to stay only ninety days—but it is ninety out of one hundred eighty days total. I cannot return for three more months when I leave after ninety days.4

Again, to the cash machines upstairs and downstairs. (Rest assured, I will have $1000 cash on me the next time.) We obtained the stamped receipt and returned to the helpful officer. (He was supposed to make us go to the penalty box, slow line, but he didn’t.)

As we waited to board, I searched the rules, which, this time, were easy to find online. I could not determine precisely when the rule changed, but it is clear now. 90/180 is the rule. But I still have a problem. The last passport officer warned me that when we returned to Istanbul the next time, the passport police would take me aside and question me.

I'm in a dilemma. After watching how our ICE officers have treated various people attempting to come to the U.S., I’m a bit afraid terrified. My husband assures me that as long as I am courteous and professional, the Turkish officers will be, too. I picture the ICE officers I see on U. S. television and social media in Turkish uniforms.

It happened so often, other than Substack, that I took social media off my phone.

My husband is not worried. (He avoids the reality that no country has to give citizenship to anyone.) We have applied for my citizenship, which I’m pretty sure will appear on the government computer. Once I enter the country, I intend to immediately apply for a temporary residency permit until my citizenship is granted. He will be with me, my husband reminds me. Everything will be fine.

Yeah, right. Their world is blowing up just like ours. Seen the news lately?

I am still terrified.