Rodrigo Hernando’s Unfolding Visa Ordeal in Iran
Rodrigo Hernando, a football coach born in Burgos, Spain, has spent years in the Costa del Sol coaching and mentoring youth players. After leaving Málaga CF’s youth ranks and deciding to explore the world, he found himself stranded in Iran while guiding Naft Masjid Suleiman FC, unable to return home to Rincón de la Victoria. The situation arose from a complicated visa process that stalled his residency plans, leaving him in a country where his work permits had lapsed and his future there became uncertain.
There were unexpected visa issues: Hernando arrived with a work visa, but the processing period stretched into weeks. While the paperwork was being completed, he was temporarily required to leave. The effort to renew or secure long-term residency faltered, and the plan shifted from establishing residency to remaining as a visitor. He describes the period as a strange and frustrating experience, sharing his account from an Iranian hotel where he sought solutions to bureaucratic hurdles. He mentions that his stay exceeded the 30 days allowed by a typical tourist visa, explaining that his original intent was tied to residency, not mere tourism.
Facing a new reality, he found himself in Iran without a formal work status. He believes that if the residence visa had been granted, things would have proceeded smoothly—an ID for foreigners, a tax code for payments, and a straightforward administrative path. However, the necessary procedures were not implemented, and the responsibilities now required embassy involvement. He emphasizes that, despite working in the country, taxation and administrative duties still fall to the appropriate authorities, a process now complicated by missing or unavailable channels for foreign staff.
Hernando recalls being treated with warmth by local authorities and club associates. He notes how immigration officers and police show curiosity and appreciation when they learn a foreigner is a football coach. The club helped with some practical matters, covering hotel expenses in Tehran and arranging a place to stay, but broader administrative support remained elusive. He recalls the club’s attempts to ease his situation through practical help, yet the core issues persisted beyond the club’s direct influence.
The crux of his challenge lies with the Spanish embassy. He describes contacting embassy staff after parting ways with the club, seeking guidance on leaving Iran and returning home. Communication proved unreliable: emergency lines went unanswered, and emails drew slow or no responses, especially during the Christmas period. He recounts repeated attempts to reach the embassy, only to be met with delays and, ultimately, responses stating that the matter was not their concern. The lack of timely assistance amplified the sense of isolation and administrative gridlock.
Throughout his career, Hernando had worked across diverse regions, including Portugal, Mongolia, and the United Arab Emirates. Yet he had never faced a situation quite like this, where visa procedures felt opaque and the support from compatriots seemed absent. He stresses the complexity of visa processes and voices frustration that the help he expected from fellow nationals and institutions did not materialize as hoped. The experience underscored a broader frustration with unclear requirements and the absence of a clear, workable path to resolution from the relevant authorities.
As the situation stretched on, the main question remained: what exactly was needed to regularize his status as a worker in Iran? He points to the possible requirement of a tax payment code through official channels, a step that ideally would be coordinated by the embassy. The lack of clarity around this step left him unsure of the precise documents or codes required, creating a sense of procedural precariousness that affected his ability to plan his next moves.
His status from the Spanish government’s perspective became a focal point as well. He notes that the Islamic weekend in Iran falls on Thursday and Friday, and he anticipated visiting offices at a time when the weekend would pause progress. He expresses cautious optimism about progressing during the local business week, hoping that embassy intervention would accelerate his return. If the embassy remained inactive, he believed he could attempt a return on his own in the following week, though the uncertainty carried significant emotional and logistical weight. The overall experience has clearly turned into a challenging ordeal that he wishes to bring to a constructive close.
In sum, the case highlights the tangled realities that can accompany international coaching assignments. When visas and residency paths collide with bureaucratic inertia, even seasoned professionals can find themselves stranded far from home. Hernando’s story underscores the need for clear, timely support from consulates and for well-defined processes that help foreign workers navigate complex systems without losing their professional footing or personal stability.
As he continues to seek a resolution, the central goal remains straightforward: to return to Spain, reunite with his home community, and resume his coaching career with the certainty that proper documentation and permissions are in place. The journey from the bench in Europe to a foreign country’s administrative maze serves as a reminder that talent alone does not guarantee seamless mobility, and that robust support networks are essential for protecting the interests of international professionals in sport.