The greatest oak was once a little nut who held its ground. ~Author Unknown
Apparently bribery and harassment do work. What the British Embassy told me would take at least 2 weeks only took 2 days. My good pal Simon called me this afternoon to let me know that my passport was on its way, and would arrive tomorrow morning.
He also gave me advice on what to say to the airline to get them to change my ticket for free (which I had already successfully accomplished) because "it is not as if you missed your flight because you were pissed (English word for drunk) at the bar." Sounds like Simon has had some problems with traveling too... but that comment made me like him more.
I wonder if Simon still calls his Mum when he has travel dilemmas? Whether he does or not, I promise you she is nowhere near as good as mine.
Oh and now not only will my passport be valid again, but my passport picture is WAY cuter than Katie's.
Thanks to all who supported me through my tears (read: Skeemers (aka Mom), Dadders (self explanatory) and Doodle (aka Katie). I can't wait to get there and get some pictures up on this blog.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Trying to get to paradise....
“If you think you have it tough – read history books.” - Bill Maher
My last post was about my over-packing tendencies. However, I am ashamed to report, over-packing isn't the only problem I have previously had when traveling. My Mother has gotten more than one tearful call from me while I was at an airport or a bus terminal...(though in my defense, these calls were so long ago, they were made from PAY PHONES... I don't think she has gotten a tearful call about travel dramas since college).
There have been tearful calls about relatively simple things like missed flights and lost or forgotten tickets (this was long before e-tickets). And more complicated things, like ending up at a bus terminal in the wrong town. Each time I have called her, she has successfully calmed me down and bailed me out of the situation, whether it was by problem solving, buying me a new ticket or just giving me the love only a Mother can give.
Post college, I will admit, I have called her many times crying, in need of that Motherly love, but those calls were not about travel related issues…. well that was until Thursday of last week.
My day started at the INS office at 7:30 a.m. For those of you who don't know, I am a British citizen, and have a "green card" allowing me to permanently live and work in the U.S. (I put "green card" in quotes, because not only is the card not green ... it is more of a pinkish-cream... there is NOTHING green anywhere on the card. I really feel like they should change the name of this card, it is a total misrepresentation, which I find very bothersome).
Anyway, I lost my “pinkish-cream card” sometime back, and have been trying to get a new “pinkish-cream card” for months. This has required numerous appointments at the INS office, which, as you can imagine, are relatively painful. Until my new card arrives, the only proof I have of my legal right to live and work in this country is a stamp on the inside of my passport. I have needed this stamp and passport at every INS appointment.
My final appointment (keep your fingers crossed) at the INS office was Thursday. I had fortunately spoken to an amazing immigration officer who was very kind to me, and managed to do in 1 appointment what no one else seemed to be able to do in 10 appointments combined. So, I was feeling great, I knew my “pinkish-cream card” was going to arrive at my parent’s house within 2 weeks, and they were going to bring it down to Costa Rica when they came to visit at the end of April. Aside from the zit on the side of my nose that will be on my “pinkish-cream card” picture for the next 10 years, all was good, I was going to be able to re-enter the U.S. at the end of August with little to no problem.
It was around 10:30 in the morning when I finished my INS business, and what I thought might take me all day only took 3 hours, so I had the rest of the day to spare. I decided I was going to swing by my friend Katie’s office, go to lunch with her, get a mani-pedi and head back to my house to get some last minute things done before my trip. That was until I was informed that my current passport was not going to get me into Costa Rica.
Here is the deal… apparently to get into Costa Rica, your passport has to be valid for 6 months AFTER the date in which you are leaving the country …which means my passport had to be good until March of 2009. Which it was not. Now, I know some of you are going to say “of course it did” or “I knew that”…Where were all of you 6 months ago when I started planning this trip?
But here is the thing, even if I had known, it would have been very difficult for me to send my passport off for renewal any sooner as I had to have it for every INS appointment I went to.
So, I went to Katie’s office which is just a couple blocks from the INS office and told her about my quandary. She tried to make me feel better about my situation by showing me her passport with what might be the least flattering picture ever. While I appreciated her effort, her passport was valid, mine was not. We went online to look up a bunch of information and I decided to make some phone calls to see what I could do about my little situation.
My first call was, of course, to my Mother (as I said before, she has solved all of my other traveling dilemmas) who suggested that I call the British Embassy in SF. Which I did. Kelly, the woman I reached at the BE, told me that the only office that issues passports is the BE in DC, and basically there was nothing she could do. As you can imagine that answer didn’t sit well with me. She said she would try to get some additional information for me and would call me back shortly.
So, Katie and I went to lunch to try to figure out a plan. Katie’s suggestion was that I get on the plane, fly to CR, and bring a couple $100 bills to bribe the immigration officer if necessary. See, this is why I go to my Mom for this sort of advice; my Mom’s advice is usually very practical. Katie’s advice, on the other hand, might get me thrown into a Costa Rican jail. Katie and I spent some additional time playing the “what if” game to determine what lengths I would go to in order to get into Costa Rica. My Father will be pleased to hear that financial bribery was as far as I would go. Katie called BS on that.
After a delightful lunch I received a call back from Kelly with bad news. She didn’t think there was anything I could do, and suggested I push my trip back 3 weeks to a month and apply for a new passport. Kelly doesn’t know that I don’t give up that easily.
So, I decided to call the Costa Rican Consulate’s Office in search of an answer I would like more. Sadly they were not able to provide this magical answer. They informed me that not only will the Costa Rican immigration officers not let me into the country (I didn’t tell them that I was going to try to use my womanly powers and some freshly printed Benjamin’s), but also that they are doubtful the airline will even let me on the plane. What? How am I supposed to flirt with the Costa Rican immigration agent if I can’t get to Costa Rica? I called the airline, and, not surprisingly, the Consulate’s Office was right, they wouldn’t let me board the plane.
Let the tears begin.
So what do I do (in between sobs)? Call my Mother of course, and we came up with a plan (and by we, I mean my Mother came up with the plan and I said “great idea”). We decided I was going to take a red-eye flight to DC on Sunday night to arrive at the BE Monday morning by 8:30 a.m. when they open. I was going to beg and plead with them to issue me a new passport that day, and then fly to Costa Rica. Genius.
So, I called Kelly back to confirm that this plan would work. Kelly, who I began to refer to as “the dark cloud” claimed that my application wouldn’t be processed any faster if I showed up in person than if I just mailed them the forms. I was not convinced. Past experience has shown me that a low cut shirt will get you a long way with the right person, usually the “right person” is the bartender and “a long way” is free wine all night, but I was sure “the girls” were good for more than just a free glass of wine. When I tell her this (that I am not convinced my plan won’t work, not that I am not afraid to use “the girls” to help me out when needed…that would be inappropriate), it finally occurred to her that unless she provided me with some sort of assistance, I was not going to stop calling her. I am sure this was a frightening realization for her.
At that point she told me that if I can got my documents sent overnight to arrive at the DC office first thing on Friday morning that she would email her colleagues and request that they process my forms quickly with the hopes that I could have my new passport back by Monday in time for my red-eye flight on Monday night. I thanked her profusely, and called and ordered her flowers. Yes, more bribery. Look, Katie’s plan had merit… I just had to tone it down a little. I was pretty confident that sending flowers to an employee of the BE wouldn’t get me thrown in a Costa Rican jail. Though at this point I wanted to be in Costa Rica so badly that jail seemed like an acceptable option.
Kelly called me Friday afternoon while I was trying on workout pants at Lululemon (while that isn’t specifically relevant to the story, if you have not tried these pants, you must, they are amazing. Terribly overpriced, but amazing.) to tell me that while my package was delivered at 7:18 that morning, the mail room didn’t process the paperwork, my application had only just been given to an agent and it wouldn’t be processed that day. This meant there was no possible way I was leaving for Costa Rica on my Monday night flight.
Let the tears continue.
However, Kelly did give me the name and phone number of the person who would be processing my application on Monday so that I could call him and get updates from him. While this seems like a very nice thing to do, we all know the reason she gave me his number was because she hoped that I would stop calling her and call him instead. So far that plan hasn’t worked out for her.
I have called Simon twice today and have not yet received a call back. I am hopeful that this means he is so busy processing my application and creating a new passport for me, that he doesn’t possibly have time to call me back. I also called Kelly and left her a message. I haven’t heard back from her either. At this point they are probably having a conference call about revoking my passport all together.
So, as of now, I have changed my flight to Thursday morning. This gives Simon 2 days to get me my passport. If everyone could spend the day with their fingers crossed for me, that would be helpful.
I will keep you posted…. The good news is that this has given me time to repack my suitcase one last time, as I am quiet sure it is currently too heavy to carry down the stairs.
My last post was about my over-packing tendencies. However, I am ashamed to report, over-packing isn't the only problem I have previously had when traveling. My Mother has gotten more than one tearful call from me while I was at an airport or a bus terminal...(though in my defense, these calls were so long ago, they were made from PAY PHONES... I don't think she has gotten a tearful call about travel dramas since college).
There have been tearful calls about relatively simple things like missed flights and lost or forgotten tickets (this was long before e-tickets). And more complicated things, like ending up at a bus terminal in the wrong town. Each time I have called her, she has successfully calmed me down and bailed me out of the situation, whether it was by problem solving, buying me a new ticket or just giving me the love only a Mother can give.
Post college, I will admit, I have called her many times crying, in need of that Motherly love, but those calls were not about travel related issues…. well that was until Thursday of last week.
My day started at the INS office at 7:30 a.m. For those of you who don't know, I am a British citizen, and have a "green card" allowing me to permanently live and work in the U.S. (I put "green card" in quotes, because not only is the card not green ... it is more of a pinkish-cream... there is NOTHING green anywhere on the card. I really feel like they should change the name of this card, it is a total misrepresentation, which I find very bothersome).
Anyway, I lost my “pinkish-cream card” sometime back, and have been trying to get a new “pinkish-cream card” for months. This has required numerous appointments at the INS office, which, as you can imagine, are relatively painful. Until my new card arrives, the only proof I have of my legal right to live and work in this country is a stamp on the inside of my passport. I have needed this stamp and passport at every INS appointment.
My final appointment (keep your fingers crossed) at the INS office was Thursday. I had fortunately spoken to an amazing immigration officer who was very kind to me, and managed to do in 1 appointment what no one else seemed to be able to do in 10 appointments combined. So, I was feeling great, I knew my “pinkish-cream card” was going to arrive at my parent’s house within 2 weeks, and they were going to bring it down to Costa Rica when they came to visit at the end of April. Aside from the zit on the side of my nose that will be on my “pinkish-cream card” picture for the next 10 years, all was good, I was going to be able to re-enter the U.S. at the end of August with little to no problem.
It was around 10:30 in the morning when I finished my INS business, and what I thought might take me all day only took 3 hours, so I had the rest of the day to spare. I decided I was going to swing by my friend Katie’s office, go to lunch with her, get a mani-pedi and head back to my house to get some last minute things done before my trip. That was until I was informed that my current passport was not going to get me into Costa Rica.
Here is the deal… apparently to get into Costa Rica, your passport has to be valid for 6 months AFTER the date in which you are leaving the country …which means my passport had to be good until March of 2009. Which it was not. Now, I know some of you are going to say “of course it did” or “I knew that”…Where were all of you 6 months ago when I started planning this trip?
But here is the thing, even if I had known, it would have been very difficult for me to send my passport off for renewal any sooner as I had to have it for every INS appointment I went to.
So, I went to Katie’s office which is just a couple blocks from the INS office and told her about my quandary. She tried to make me feel better about my situation by showing me her passport with what might be the least flattering picture ever. While I appreciated her effort, her passport was valid, mine was not. We went online to look up a bunch of information and I decided to make some phone calls to see what I could do about my little situation.
My first call was, of course, to my Mother (as I said before, she has solved all of my other traveling dilemmas) who suggested that I call the British Embassy in SF. Which I did. Kelly, the woman I reached at the BE, told me that the only office that issues passports is the BE in DC, and basically there was nothing she could do. As you can imagine that answer didn’t sit well with me. She said she would try to get some additional information for me and would call me back shortly.
So, Katie and I went to lunch to try to figure out a plan. Katie’s suggestion was that I get on the plane, fly to CR, and bring a couple $100 bills to bribe the immigration officer if necessary. See, this is why I go to my Mom for this sort of advice; my Mom’s advice is usually very practical. Katie’s advice, on the other hand, might get me thrown into a Costa Rican jail. Katie and I spent some additional time playing the “what if” game to determine what lengths I would go to in order to get into Costa Rica. My Father will be pleased to hear that financial bribery was as far as I would go. Katie called BS on that.
After a delightful lunch I received a call back from Kelly with bad news. She didn’t think there was anything I could do, and suggested I push my trip back 3 weeks to a month and apply for a new passport. Kelly doesn’t know that I don’t give up that easily.
So, I decided to call the Costa Rican Consulate’s Office in search of an answer I would like more. Sadly they were not able to provide this magical answer. They informed me that not only will the Costa Rican immigration officers not let me into the country (I didn’t tell them that I was going to try to use my womanly powers and some freshly printed Benjamin’s), but also that they are doubtful the airline will even let me on the plane. What? How am I supposed to flirt with the Costa Rican immigration agent if I can’t get to Costa Rica? I called the airline, and, not surprisingly, the Consulate’s Office was right, they wouldn’t let me board the plane.
Let the tears begin.
So what do I do (in between sobs)? Call my Mother of course, and we came up with a plan (and by we, I mean my Mother came up with the plan and I said “great idea”). We decided I was going to take a red-eye flight to DC on Sunday night to arrive at the BE Monday morning by 8:30 a.m. when they open. I was going to beg and plead with them to issue me a new passport that day, and then fly to Costa Rica. Genius.
So, I called Kelly back to confirm that this plan would work. Kelly, who I began to refer to as “the dark cloud” claimed that my application wouldn’t be processed any faster if I showed up in person than if I just mailed them the forms. I was not convinced. Past experience has shown me that a low cut shirt will get you a long way with the right person, usually the “right person” is the bartender and “a long way” is free wine all night, but I was sure “the girls” were good for more than just a free glass of wine. When I tell her this (that I am not convinced my plan won’t work, not that I am not afraid to use “the girls” to help me out when needed…that would be inappropriate), it finally occurred to her that unless she provided me with some sort of assistance, I was not going to stop calling her. I am sure this was a frightening realization for her.
At that point she told me that if I can got my documents sent overnight to arrive at the DC office first thing on Friday morning that she would email her colleagues and request that they process my forms quickly with the hopes that I could have my new passport back by Monday in time for my red-eye flight on Monday night. I thanked her profusely, and called and ordered her flowers. Yes, more bribery. Look, Katie’s plan had merit… I just had to tone it down a little. I was pretty confident that sending flowers to an employee of the BE wouldn’t get me thrown in a Costa Rican jail. Though at this point I wanted to be in Costa Rica so badly that jail seemed like an acceptable option.
Kelly called me Friday afternoon while I was trying on workout pants at Lululemon (while that isn’t specifically relevant to the story, if you have not tried these pants, you must, they are amazing. Terribly overpriced, but amazing.) to tell me that while my package was delivered at 7:18 that morning, the mail room didn’t process the paperwork, my application had only just been given to an agent and it wouldn’t be processed that day. This meant there was no possible way I was leaving for Costa Rica on my Monday night flight.
Let the tears continue.
However, Kelly did give me the name and phone number of the person who would be processing my application on Monday so that I could call him and get updates from him. While this seems like a very nice thing to do, we all know the reason she gave me his number was because she hoped that I would stop calling her and call him instead. So far that plan hasn’t worked out for her.
I have called Simon twice today and have not yet received a call back. I am hopeful that this means he is so busy processing my application and creating a new passport for me, that he doesn’t possibly have time to call me back. I also called Kelly and left her a message. I haven’t heard back from her either. At this point they are probably having a conference call about revoking my passport all together.
So, as of now, I have changed my flight to Thursday morning. This gives Simon 2 days to get me my passport. If everyone could spend the day with their fingers crossed for me, that would be helpful.
I will keep you posted…. The good news is that this has given me time to repack my suitcase one last time, as I am quiet sure it is currently too heavy to carry down the stairs.
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