Quick trip

This week has been a strange week, to say the least. A good but strange week.

Yesterday I went to Monterrey to get my student visa. Those of you who don't know, I am going to Boston for some time during the summer to take a couple courses at BU. The whole thing was crazy. From the moment I woke up, or "not-woke up" really, because I don't recall hearing the alarm, to the last part of the day where I ate tacos for the first time in like two months, it all felt so surreal, very dali-esque, except without the nasty feeling in your stomach... oh wait, I did get that, but that was from the fact that I ate too many different things and then got on a taxi that could've easily been mistaken for a blender.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's all begin where good things begin: right where it all started.

So I got up in the morning, my mom knocked at my door and told me we should already have been leaving for the airport. I still don't know what's happening so I jump out of my bed and hit the light switch. "I'll just put on some clothes and wash my teeth, and we can leave." I said as I was trying to find something decent to wear. My mom insisted, however, that I shower, so I complied and took a very quick 4 minute shower , put on some shorts and a shirt... I looked so not decent for a consulate interview to get my visa. My mom made notice of that, so I changed into a nicer shirt (no great improvement there really, but really, it was 6 in the morning).

So we're off to the airport, and my half-asleep brother grumbles something at us when we are getting out of the car. An hour and forty minutes until our plane leaves, we check in (too early for my gusto) and head up to get some breakfast. Ten minutes before boarding time, the security guard at the gate entrance tells us our flight has been canceled.

I'm not panicking yet, because again, it is too early in the morning. But I really do have to get to Monterrey NOW because I have a visa interview in less than three hours.

We're getting another ticket, another plane leaves half an hour after our flight was supposed to. We can still make it, we tell ourselves and board the plane. Next thing I know I'm drooling over my mom's shoulder and we've landed. Time to go? An hour: we can still make it.

We find a cab, and wait in line at the wrong taxi company line, realize that our taxi was waiting at the curb, we hurry and get in. "Take the highway, they say it's quicker"... and there we are, driving towards the consulate, the taxi driver just doesn't seem to want to be quiet, so we talk for a bit. He's from Linares, small cities have no work opportunities, they shouldn't be charging for highway use, we're here at the consulate.

Some paperwork checking and finding some random security guard to take care of our cell phones we're inside. They're checking my name on a list, cross it and now it's time to go through the metal detector. My mom forgot to leave her iPod headphones outside, so I have to hurry outside and give them to the security guard who's taking care of our cell phones. We're back inside. There's a line. Long line.

Now I'm inside a small booth and they're checking my papers. Some payment I had to make was not registered in the system... Oh my God, are you kidding me?

So, no payment register... means no visa. But they take my picture and my mom and I go to another line. We're getting the mean visa lady, I wanted the one next to her, but there's nothing I can do. Finally we're right in front of her, I give her my papers.

"The SEVIS payment is not registered in the system. We can't give you the visa"

"What is going on?" I think to myself (because who can I think to, really? Although I do know a couple people who can tell you what you are thinking) So really, God, is something not right? Do you not want me to go? Am I forcing something that you don't want to happen?

"You need to check with the university... blah blah blah" said the consul, and I'm not really panicking YET... so after some checking to see what we can do, we head out to find a cyber where we can try and see what on earth happened with the SEVIS fee I did pay, but was not register... I call BU, there's nothing they can do. I call the DHS and the stupid machine is no help. I print out another receipt, sort of... but it won't make the system register it...

"God, if you don't want me to go... if it is not in your plans, stop me. I don't want to do anything against your will."

At this point I'm panicking, and I'm being aggressive, spitting out short and unpleasant remarks to my moms insistence that I not chat while I was finding out what was going on.

We're heading back to the consulate. We're in... "The consuls are out to eat. Come back in like 40 minutes"... but then this other dude is on the phone with someone and takes the paper I have saying I just need to pay the SEVIS fee... I don't know what he says or what happens but he tells me to go in again. We do, and I'm talking to some other consul. This time a guy. He seemed nicer.

So I don't even hand in my other receipt. He asks me something about paying for the program and if I have something that can prove it. I show him a bank statement and he says nothing. For like 3 minutes he says nothing. He tears my little paper and does some things I can't remember. Then he puts my passport at his side and gives me a green piece of paper. "Take this to the postal delivery service at the end of the street."

Wait. Does this mean I get my visa?

"You'll have your visa in four or five days"

Wait. Does this mean I get my visa?

My mom asks if they keep my passport.

"The visa is glued to the passport"

Wait. Does this mean I get my visa?

"Will I get my passport back" I ask not really thinking

"If your visa is glued to your passport and you are getting your visa, I guess you should expect to, don't you think?"

I laugh sheepishly and grin at him like I'm some kind of airhead.

We head out of the consulate and I swear I want to jump and scream because...

Wait. Does this mean I get my visa?

Yes, it meant I had my visa. It meant that God had opened the final door, in some sense.

So we're walking to the delivery place and I've learned my lesson. "Don't leave things for the very end" my mom tells me.

"I know." I answer back and just walk alongside.

Dude, I got my student visa. For the first time in my life I will leave my city for more than a month, by myself, to study, at an American university, writing courses.

My dream. Or one of them really... (I went back and checked my 101 things I want to do before I die... this summer I'll be crossing out 4 items in the list) And I can't wait for the trip to begin. The coolest thing about it is that I'll be gone 40 days (41, but one is a travel day so it doesn' count)I'll get my 40 days in the desert, lured by my lover so he can show me his heart's secrets.

So then we go to this fancy restaurant that my mom loves and I eat deliciously... however, after eating such an international dish, with weird sauces that tasted bittersweet, we got on another cab to the airport.

Awful is an understatement of how that cab ride went. The cab driver drove fast, but not only did he drive fast, he insisted on being no more than two meters away from the cars in front of him. He braked regularly, with very little grace and insisted on changing lanes like a maniac. Forty minutes later and I'm at the airport and I swear I want to throw up. I don't. Instead we go to the American Express customer lounge and do that (lounge) for the next three hours. Our flight is leaving, we're home... run for the hills! We still have time to get to the prayer meeting.

I get there and head upstairs, to have some "privacy"... The music was amazing, the singing was heavenly and my God's presence was astounding. I prayed, sang, clapped, semi-danced, kneeled and overall mused on his heart.

Then I threw up.

So much for crazy taxi rides and visas. The day ended with soccer, friends and tacos.