Regarding Exile
So, regarding my country of exile, I decided to give my long-stem red rose to Turkey. (Did I just make an allusion to “The Bachelor?” That is, like, soooo 2002. Being out of the US has completely warped my sense of American pop culture.)
Anyway, Turkey-Istanbul, to be precise. Last week, I booked myself flights through my company’s travel agent-the return flight for May 5 but flexible, and I found an apartment with internet access to stay in for that time. I brought my laptop into work and our IT guy installed all of the necessary components on it, and I started stocking up on a few items that I wasn’t sure I would find in Turkey. I confirmed all of the travel arrangements, and the man with whom I am smitten found himself flights to Istanbul for the 21st through the 31st.
Perfect!
And then on Friday, I went to a party. At this party, I was introduced to a young woman who told me, “No, you don’t have to leave!” She had been to a meeting hosted by the US embassy, at which they declared that it was “99% certain” that they would pass a resolution allowing foreigners in the process of getting a visa to stay in the country for another three months. “Don’t worry about it; you’re fine,” she said.
So I went on the embassy’s website and saw that this meeting was held on Monday, March 5th (cutting it close, aren't we?), and I verified all of the information that this woman told me-except for the 99%. Instead, the website said that it was “indicated” that this resolution was “possible.” Four days to my flight!
I emailed my boss and the guy in the office who has gotten things together on my visa, and then I sat on my hands. My boss and colleague didn’t see the email until Monday morning, which is just as well, because nothing was going to happen over the weekend anyway. Two days to my flight!
My boss and I chatted, and he said I should call the embassy and he’d call the woman whose job it is to take care of these matters for us-you know, the woman who should have told me about this but instead I found it out at a party. So I called the embassy and they told me to call the foreign police, which I did, and they didn’t speak English and hung up on me. I asked a colleague to call for me, but he suggested that we wait for the response from the woman who should have known about this stuff and didn’t.
My boss said I should go ahead with my plans to travel to Turkey, and we’d change my return flight and bring me back when this got resolved. So, at this point, there are two days to my flight, and I know I’ll be gone for anywhere from a couple of days to three months. Thank God I decided not to sublet my apartment.
Then in mid-afternoon on Monday, I loaded the website for the embassy and there it was: the resolution had passed, informing me that I can stay in the Czech Republic. I did a happy dance, emailed everyone, and heard my boss cheer from his office.
I’m sad that I won’t be taking a Turkish holiday any time soon; glad that I didn’t choose someplace really far away, necessitating flights with a much pricier cancellation fee (it’s my company’s expense but that doesn’t mean I don’t care); and pleased that I hadn’t gotten myself into something that couldn’t be reversed (like paying in advance with some budget website).
To celebrate this news? A weekend with the smittee.
Anyway, Turkey-Istanbul, to be precise. Last week, I booked myself flights through my company’s travel agent-the return flight for May 5 but flexible, and I found an apartment with internet access to stay in for that time. I brought my laptop into work and our IT guy installed all of the necessary components on it, and I started stocking up on a few items that I wasn’t sure I would find in Turkey. I confirmed all of the travel arrangements, and the man with whom I am smitten found himself flights to Istanbul for the 21st through the 31st.
Perfect!
And then on Friday, I went to a party. At this party, I was introduced to a young woman who told me, “No, you don’t have to leave!” She had been to a meeting hosted by the US embassy, at which they declared that it was “99% certain” that they would pass a resolution allowing foreigners in the process of getting a visa to stay in the country for another three months. “Don’t worry about it; you’re fine,” she said.
So I went on the embassy’s website and saw that this meeting was held on Monday, March 5th (cutting it close, aren't we?), and I verified all of the information that this woman told me-except for the 99%. Instead, the website said that it was “indicated” that this resolution was “possible.” Four days to my flight!
I emailed my boss and the guy in the office who has gotten things together on my visa, and then I sat on my hands. My boss and colleague didn’t see the email until Monday morning, which is just as well, because nothing was going to happen over the weekend anyway. Two days to my flight!
My boss and I chatted, and he said I should call the embassy and he’d call the woman whose job it is to take care of these matters for us-you know, the woman who should have told me about this but instead I found it out at a party. So I called the embassy and they told me to call the foreign police, which I did, and they didn’t speak English and hung up on me. I asked a colleague to call for me, but he suggested that we wait for the response from the woman who should have known about this stuff and didn’t.
My boss said I should go ahead with my plans to travel to Turkey, and we’d change my return flight and bring me back when this got resolved. So, at this point, there are two days to my flight, and I know I’ll be gone for anywhere from a couple of days to three months. Thank God I decided not to sublet my apartment.
Then in mid-afternoon on Monday, I loaded the website for the embassy and there it was: the resolution had passed, informing me that I can stay in the Czech Republic. I did a happy dance, emailed everyone, and heard my boss cheer from his office.
I’m sad that I won’t be taking a Turkish holiday any time soon; glad that I didn’t choose someplace really far away, necessitating flights with a much pricier cancellation fee (it’s my company’s expense but that doesn’t mean I don’t care); and pleased that I hadn’t gotten myself into something that couldn’t be reversed (like paying in advance with some budget website).
To celebrate this news? A weekend with the smittee.