Yesterday was Christmas (Merry Christmas to you all!), and I’m really starting to think that this whole leaving-my-safe-and-comfortable-corner-of-the-planet thing is finally setting in.  There are few reasons why this may be…

The first is that the majority of my gifts were given to me with my travels abroad obviously in mind.  I received a Spanish-English electronic translator (that I hopefully will not get into the habit of using), a Spanish Bible (that I hopefully WILL get into the habit of using), and bunch of other odds and ends that simply scream “I’m leaving home for 3 1/2 months.”  I was also fortunate enough to get a “fake snow” kit from my brother and sister-in-law, since I will be missing out on some of PA’s colder months.

Speaking of snow, that’s the forecast for today.  We’re suppose to get a good amount, which makes me pretty happy. Some people might consider me lucky for getting to leave the northeast during winter for the sunny beaches of Venezuela, but I have to say that I am a bit disappointed. I really enjoy the drastic changing of the seasons, and I also get bored fairly easily, so, usually, by the time the warm is ready to be cold (and vice versa), I am also ready for it to be that way.

Okay, sorry for the slight diversion.  I do love snow. But, anyway, getting back to this whole “things finally setting in” theme…
On Christmas Eve I got pretty sick.  Okay, scratch that, I got violently ill.  I’ll spare you all the details, but, needless to say, it was awful. It lasted only one day, but in the misery of that one day, I was able to grasp this one very clear truth: If being sick at home is this terrible, then being sick abroad definitely won’t be a picnic. 

Maybe I’m just being pessimistic, but, chances are that I will get sick at least once while I’m in VZ (if for no other reason than the fact that my body is not used to being in South America, with all of its food and flavaaa), and I’m sure that, in that moment, I will only want two things that will no doubt be unavailable: my bed and my mom. I’m not sure how else to reconcile this seemingly doom-laden predicament, other than praying that it doesn’t happen or simply telling myself to just “cross that bridge when I get to it.” (I mean, outside building a germ-free bubble contraption for me to reside within, there isn’t much else that can be done). My first instinct is for the present me to convince herself that the future me will just have to get over it. Deal with it. Sickness happens. However, what the present me fails to realize is that, if I do get sick abroad, it will no longer be the future me dealing with it. It will be me. In the present. In Venezuela. Sick as a dog. And if it is anything like what I experienced a few nights ago, I just don’t know how I’ll react. Really. Just being honest…

I suppose I should wrap this up now, but, before I go, I just have to share some of my frustration concerning the Visa process using a short story:

 A few mornings ago, I was abruptly awoken by a woman from the Venezuelan Consulate in NYC.  Obviously, my first instinct was to panic. What if something is wrong? What if I can’t go?! What if I’m a fugitive without even knowing it!  I answered the phone, half dreaming, and the woman began speaking so fast in English that I was almost certain at one point that she was actually speaking Spanish.  She told me that they needed my medical records.  I gave you those, I said.  “Es too much,” she said, with a laugh. Wonderful. The paper had said I would have to give my medical records OR a note from my doctor.  I went with the records, thinking it would look more legit, but, alas, what they really wanted was the note.  The records were too much to sift through.  All things considered, this is no big deal, right?  At least I’m not Wanted, or something else crazy like that.  So, I called my doctor.  She’s not in right now. Oh, okay, well, when will you be expecting her back?  We’re not sure.

Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day in a small agony over whether or not my doctor was even in the country.  Luckily, they called the next morning.  I missed the call.  I called them back. “Your doctor says she can’t write you a note because we haven’t seen you since January.”  Well, then can I schedule an appointment?  Sure, for when?  ASAP. How’s Thursday sound?

What I wanted to say:    Not good. How’s right now sound?

What I actually said: Are you sure you don’t have anything sooner?  This note is for my VISA and I leave on the 23^rd.  If things aren’t processed by then, I can’t go*.  You don’t have anything else?
“No.”
“Welp, see you Thursday! Merry Christmas!”

*Disclaimer:  I am not a procrastinator, in general.  The reason I couldn’t do it sooner was because I had to wait for my program to send me the info.

    This story is just one of many examples that I have from a process that I feel like I have been going through since my freshman year (you know, with the whole Israel thing, too). The study abroad process is definitely not an easy one. There are a lot documents to sign, a lot of deadlines to remember, and, of course, A LOT of ways to make mistakes.

My advice: Write everything down, save ALL of your emails, make a copy of every paper you send anywhere, and ask plenty of questions.  People will give you the run around a lot of the time, but, eventually, you will find someone who understands and is willing to help.  

Like I said before, the process was not easy, but, honestly, if it had been, I don’t think I would appreciate it as much now.  To be able to say “I’m leaving for Venezuela in 29 days” did not come without it’s tears and nights of frustration, but I can assure you that it does come with a sense of gratitude and true peace in knowing that you did your part in making it possible.

I’ll probably update once more before I leave the states (maybe even when I’m in Miami?)  It probably won’t be as long as these last two…  right now, I’m just on break and I really don’t have anything better to do except read. or sleep. or, now, go play in the SNOW!

chao!

Mandy

Location: Lebanon, PA