Getting my visa was a bit of a nightmare. First came the email. “I’m hearing that appointments at the French consulate in NYC are now booked through early August…” We had previously been told to wait until we received a Campus France confirmation, but now all bets were off. I went straight to the consulate website only to see that it was true- the earliest available appointment was for August 5th. I thought a bit and, deciding a Tuesday would work better for me, registered for the 6th. Then I could do nothing but wait (and procrastinate in preparing all my paperwork- yes, I was up the night before the appointment finishing it all).
The day of the appointment arrived. I woke up early and drove myself to the bus station (I’m such a big girl!) and waited at the park & ride. I boarded the bus and off we went. No traffic. No delays. It was perfect! Same story with the subway… and when I resurfaced I had only a few short blocks to walk until I was there. Well, I was actually there 30 minutes early and was sent away… I just bought a coffee and walked around until the time was up. Curiously enough, in my wanderings I passed a shop on the corner that had a sign advertising quick passport photos. I briefly wondered if I should do it before my appointment but reassured myself thinking that the photo I printed would be fine and going in there would be a waste of money. Naturally, I was wrong.
The security guard was friendly when the time was right and let me inside. Up a short flight of stairs and then …waiting. Lots of waiting. I began to wonder whether I’d missed my number when I suddenly heard it over the speaker. The woman behind the window was very businesslike and just a little intimidating. I tried to hand everything over as quickly as possible but I think she was annoyed before she even saw me. “What is this?” she shouted. “Uh… uh… it’s a photo?” “This is not acceptable. This is a photocopy. Do you see anywhere on the website to bring a photocopy? No.” Or something like that. I was about to have a panic attack when she said I had 5 minutes to run to the corner and get a “real photo” so I ran instead.
Good ol’ Riff Raff
Aaand wouldn’t you know it, a lady steps up to the photo counter the moment I come screeching around the corner. The photographer looked miserable… a little bit like a stockier Riff Raff.After a little sweating and foot scuffing and no attempt at smiling, I had my stupid photo. The thing cost $17. Madness.
The rest of that day was uneventful… I waited around more, spoke to a nicer french guy, had a new photo taken (WHAT WAS THE POINT), and was told to come back in exactly one week.
First of all, why in the world does the New York French Consulate not mail the finished visa? Apparently everyone else does it… Each round trip costs me at least $35 for the bus, and then more for the subway and stuff. It takes so many hours to get there and back… I even asked the guy if I could pay $20 and have it mailed. He smiled and shook his head. Cheeky bastard.
I wonder if Riff Raff’s character had anything to do with Nosferatu.
This post is getting really long so I’ll cut to the chase. I was late for my pick-up appointment the next week (by 25 minutes) and was told to come back the next day. I pleaded. I cried. Nothing helped. See, the first trip was seamless. The second was not. An hour delay on the bus, two stalled trains, and a mile walk (in the pouring rain) were my undoing. Le sigh. Fortunately, my friend, Miles, graciously offered me his floor and gave me easy instructions for getting back the next day (it involved an MTA bus but all went well). I also went back to Brooklyn to close out my bank account and got to hang out with my coworkers at school. The trip wasn’t a bust- I saw friends and got my visa- but the process was more difficult than it could’ve been. I vote for a friendlier lady and visa-mailing. Ttfn!
PS: Enjoy these pics of my cute BC coworkers… I’ll miss you guys!
Post a Comment