Ilsa Around The World

Abroad at Last

• Last week I left Calgary to get started on my new career of teaching English. There were still a couple minor details... getting a visa, for one. And then there's the logistics... how to get me and the stuff that is to keep me comfortable for the next nine months to Russia.
  
  The cheap flight to Frankfurt was a no brainer; however, the next decision of train travel, as opposed to a quick flight, proved to be an adventure of its own. It only took one delayed train to screw up the rest of the trip from Frankfurt to the Hague (Holland). I had to switch four times - carrying this load. I'm talking stairs and escalators. Why are elevators always out of service when they're truly needed?
  
  I found it difficult to maintain the elegance I pretended to have when hauling this stuff. At one point, a German gentleman insisted on carrying my big suitcase (which cost an extra $140 to fly) up some stairs. The Germans are really great that way but I'm sure he was cursing me after he broke all his nails on one hand (hopefully he thought I was American and not Canadian). Ouch!
  
  The next morning (a few hours after waking my friend in middle of night) I headed to the Russian consulate office, conveniently located three blocks away. There were a few people lined up outside. No one offered any assistance so I pressed the bell - the bell was up three steep, narrow stairs so you have to step back down after ringing. A man peaked out and looked at me inquisitively. I looked up 'I'd like to apply for a tourist visa?' He gestured for me to wait then closed the door. So I waited, and waited, and waited. I got to know a little Japanese guy in the lineup. He told me his story. His company, which specializes in automotive parts, is sending him to Moscow for 4 years. He's not particularly looking forward to it but was really hopeful to get to get his visa on this day after trying on three previous occasions. He seemed to take it all in stride - maybe coming from another 'orderly' culture gave him an edge up.
  
  When they let me, I remembered Alice in Wonderland and how she had no idea what was in store for her once she entered. In my case it was more waiting. The room was tiny but the waiting let me scope the rest of the goings on. There was a cashier with one lineup, a table for the 'screener' I first met to make sure the next visitors had the right lineup, and then the lineup which contained the most important authoritarian behind a cage at the end of it. The importance surrounding this person was obvious. All they had to say was 'yes' or 'no' - my fate was in their hands. In my case, she said 'no good', gesturing toward my Canadian-sized passport photo and something else I can't even remember anymore. Prior to this confrontation, I had a little help from a guy claiming to be 'special visa services'. He and three others were processing visas like nobody's business. They had stacks of passports and documents and would slip them in the cage when possible, sometimes letting lined-up folks, like myself, to take their turn. From observations on two consecutive days, it appears to be their job to lurk around there for the three hours the consulate office is open on week days. The guy who helped me (maybe because of the bewildered look on my face?) advised me to make some changes so I was back and forth a couple of times that day and ran out of time for the 'no good'changes I needed to make.

The second day went much smoother since I knew what to expect. The guy in charge barely looked at it and I got to go to the cashier lineup. I knew not to complain about the price as I had witnessed a dead, incredulous silence the previous day when some Dutch guy said in a loud voice ''Why so much?"

That taken care of, I had to wait out the five-day waiting period but, who cares, I was in Europe. I love Europe.

Stay tuned for more of my European Vacation.

posted by Ilsa @ Wednesday, November 01, 2006