Well, everyone. My time in the Twin Cities is growing very short. I now have almost everything I need to depart. My plane ticket is scheduled for September 1st. I've visited Chicago and handed over my passport to be scrutinized by the Korean Consular Authorities... they have also 'scrutinized' ME, by asking me the same questions the recruiters all asked me on the phone. If I didn't have ulterior motives for going to Chicago, I would be just a little annoyed. Now all I have to do is wait for them to mail my passport back to me. It's a little nerve wracking, I'd say, to trust the US Postal Service with your passport, especially on such a time constraint.
The visa interview was a little surreal. The consulate is this gorgeous suite in the NBC Tower in Chicago. Chicago is great because it's this enormous city built on a river and a lake. There are waterways between these skyscrapers. It was raining and misty when I arrived on the 27th floor, and while I waited for my name to be called, I stared lazily out the window as buildings disappeared and reappeared in the fog. It was gorgeous. The other surreal part about it was that I was sure that I was late! Terribly afraid that I was late! But when I arrived, there was a line of some 10-15 others there--all young white women. There were a few exceptions. A cute looking couple (male/female) were there, and then there was perhaps one man. And there was another girl's father, who was waiting there for her. He looked just like my ex landlord--except that he had an enormous handlebar mustache and was tattooed. You could tell he was military. Not even because of the shaved head or the tattoos, but because of the way he looked at things. It was surprising to me, and I wasn't sure if it was actually his facial structure that reminded me of my ex landlord, or his demeanor that made them look the same.
Anyway, among this sea of potential english teachers, there was one young woman who was leaving on Sunday (what I thought I was going to have to do.) She was stressing out. We were both on a time table. When I went up, I showed her my express envelope and said "I'm leaving on Tuesday." The woman behind the visa counter said "We can't get it to you by then." And I nearly had a heart attack, but after a few questions, I realized what she was trying to say was that she can't guarantee that the postal service can get it there on time. I figure that's a legitimate concern, but I'll take the USPS's word (and my 17.50 for express over night mail) on that. I just told her that as long as it was mailed on Friday, and she said, 'Oh, nono, we will have it on Friday.' So I went away okay. However, this other young woman, started to get angry and stomped off. It was weird. I tried to tell her, but she was paying attention to the woman behind the counter instead of the rest of the room.
There are some things about travel that I love, and then there are those awkward moments when anger gets the best of you, and you end up stuck on your own. It's hard to live without anger in a world where you don't understand anything, though. It's exhausting. Travel is great, but hoo boy it is not easy. I just keep reminding myself of that!
