Holding My Breath: A Visa in Progress

The visa application can feel like a mystifying process. Up until today, I was holding my breath for my visa appointment to go smoothly. A whole month of careful preparation went into its success. I can now say I am truly grateful for giving myself ample time to prepare. There were several times where I saw I had forgotten a step in the process, or that I might have to postpone the appointment because I might not have factored in enough wiggle room. Even with all my documents ready, it seemed I kept finding little details I had missed, or some new thing I had to do up until the very moment of my appointment. The only way to keep this from becoming overwhelming was to focus on what I needed to do in my immediate present and to break tasks down. Luckily CIEE as well as the Facebook group for CIEE auxiliares was a real help. Not only did I feel at ease to ask questions, but it was reassuring to hear other people's experiences. They had the same questions. They made it to the consulate and had advice to offer. A daunting challenge became doable, survivable.

Since my acceptance into the CIEE program it seems I never quite celebrated. Was I exhilirated when I got the email? Yes. Was I shedding tears of joy in the shower that morning? Yes. I had two hours of sheer happiness as I told those closest to me about the news. That happiness was checked after the rush. I hadn't been assigned to a school yet. There was no guarantee. It was too soon to share publicly. A week later I got assigned to two schools, and again I felt the thrill. I shared with a few more people before my rational mind jumped in with more concerns. I still needed my visa documents. I needed to prove to myself I could organize everything in a timely fashion before I could feel in the clear. Even after I got over my initial concerns to apply in the first place, my fear voice still spoke to me. Even at the Spanish consulate, my heart beat drums under my chest.

In spite of these hesitations, everywhere I went, I was met with kindness and quick action. It kept surprising me, but it also felt like a sign post. Yes, I am meant to do this. I am meant to be here. Instead of the long waits I was expecting, everything was addressed either immediately or within a few days. A trip to the DMV, which I normally associated with an hour long wait and a clumsy presenting of documents became instead a place where I was already next in line as soon as I walked through the door. A new lady working at the DMV welcomed me to work with her, and the mundane transformed into a bonding between two people, if only for a time. As the official interaction took place, a more fascinating conversation was interlaced. At first we laughed because she loved my middle name so much she accidentally confused it for my real one and addressed me that way. She adored my purse design--a black cat with red bowtie and witchy details from Kiki's Delivery Service. I explained to her about Hiyao Miyazaki, a movie director as notorious in Japan as Disney for his fantastic animations. An interaction between the seconds, that made being there feel more meaningful. When she expressed curiosity as to why I was here now, I surprised myself by sharing my news about Spain. She was so excited and happy for me on my journey, and that excited me as well. Spain felt a little more real.

The same day I went to get fingerprinted at the police station, and was set up in minutes with a cheerful lively man. He too was happy with where I was in my life and wished me well. A few days later I went to the doctors for my medical certificate. A doctor excitedly to my room came to introduce himself personally. He wanted to tell me how amazing it was that I would be leaving the country, and how not everyone could do it. He warmly recounted how he and his wife had lived in England for a part of his graduate studies. Even at the UPS store, it seemed I made new allies who wished me well on my journey, who smiled and recognized me later when I returned later to make a fax. Even in places with more gravity, such as where I got my apostille, I was able to walk out with what I needed in a matter of minutes. Spain felt increasingly real and right to me with each interaction.

All this led up to my Chicago trip and my growing anticipation for my visa appointment. It felt surreal to be back in Chicago. I hadn't lived or been there for a couple of years, yet it welcomed me back like an old habit or lover. Familiar, yet unfamiliar. I knew the street I needed to go to, yet had no recollection of my first time to the Spanish consulate for a study abroad visa. I assumed it was the same place. It seemed I had years of longing to do this, and a solid month to prepare for this. It still felt bizarre to sit on a plush black chair as I waited, with a folder of documents on my lap. It was not until I was standing at the window for my appointment, that it was really happening. The person helping me, who appeared to be a Spanish man in his thirties, gave me no indication of how things were going. I held my breath. It was a month's work of intense preparation and suspense, but only minutes for him to say it was done. I could expect to receive my visa in four weeks. That was the moment I took my first exhale.

In some ways, I expect I’ll be holding my breath until I board the plane itself. Until I land. Or secure my apartment. There will always be some uncertainties as to whether I’ve fully “made it” or not. Things will not always go to plan, or there might be some unforeseen details. What I’ve grown to realize is that it’s okay. It’s okay to celebrate now, and to marvel at how far I’ve come. I’m strong, resilient, and I am breathing.