Today is the day I was supposed to apply for my visa. Read that line very carefully. After getting off BART, I was pleasantly shocked to see San Francisco heavily covered in a chilly layer of fog. But my spirits were up, because soon I was going to have physical evidence of becoming a French resident. As I turned a few corners -- impressed because I was navigating the big city alone, something I've never done before -- my energy seemed to increase as I saw more and more signs I was getting close.
It was as if I had been transported right into the heart of a French metropolitan city. To my right I saw a Tabac sign, just like the ones I grew acustomed to on every street corner in France. On the left, L'Hôtel des Arts and then another small, yet bustling, French café opened its doors to Francophiles along the gray streets of San Francisco.
The tri-color flag just down the street signaled the French consulate and I was gliding on air at that point. Standing in line, my eyes wandered to the consulate's hours of operation sign. My heart raced a little when I read the words "Appointment only." How did I miss that on the website? I triple checked the website to make sure I had all the right papers with me. Two copies and the original of my passport, passport-sized photos, my arrêté de nomination, the visa application and an itinary for my flight. It was all in my envelope, taunting the fact that I was not 100% prepared.
I figured I'd give it a shot anyhow. What's the worst that could happen? I'll stick around after making an appointment in person? Turns out I ran into the rudest security guard I've ever encountered in my life. He spoke neither English nor French very well. After he informed me that I could only make an appointment online, I still wasn't panicing and called my mom to see if she could do it. However, the link was broken.
Trying my luck a second time, I walked up to the security guard and told him the site wasn't working and if I could just please speak to someone who could help me make an appointment in person... But he would have none of it and sent me off, broken-hearted.
I'm beginning to learn a lot about my character as the years go on, because my eyes welled up with giant tears right there on the street. I couldn't hold it in, but by the time they started falling, I was already fleeing the French corner of the city that I so badly wanted to be in.
Now all it stood for was a dream that was always just beyond my grasp. If I'll ever be able to make an appointment, you have to do so three weeks in advance. That takes us to the end of August. Then it takes 2-3 months to process a visa request, which would be about late-October to November -- too late for me to start teaching by my October 1 deadline. I tried calling the program coordinator, but I don't think she can do anything to expidite this process. All I can do now is wait and keep checking the website each day.
So now I'm at a loss once again. Do I schedule my ticket and risk blowing $1,000? Or do I wait until I have my visa to do so and then have to pay close to $2,000 so close to the departure date?
And if I don't go, I know I'll always be wondering what it could have been like, upset at myself for never siezing this chance when in reality it was kind of impossible. Then I'll be stuck in the United States with no job, no place to live and no boyfriend, because in preparation for my departure, we kind of decided to split up in order to lessen the pain that could possibly ensue had I left for France fresh off the break-up. The one thing that's worse than breaking up with someone and not being able to see them because you're thousands of miles away is being only 300 miles away, without him.
So that means that right now I'm heart-broken without a good cause. And the only thing that could make me feel a little better about that fact is slipping away from me.
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