Me and My Big Girl Pants

I was on a mission today. Mission Get Ecuadorian Consulate to Process Visa. My newfound friend Peter was picking me at 9:30 am to tag team the people at the consulate. (Note about Peter: He graduated from Jefferson a year before I began teaching there, so a number of his friends are my former students. He student taught at Colegio Americano de Quito and is now returning to spend the next two years there. I'm happy to be flying over with someone who knows the ropes.) As I'm getting ready this morning, I text Peter putting on my big girl pants so we can take care of business. Let's back up for a moment. This morning marked my third trip to the consulate to discuss the visa issue. In early May I took a half day off of work to pay my first (and what I thought would be my only) visit. I show up right when the doors are supposed to open to find a sign in Spanish explaining that the consulate will be closed just that day because the staff is at a conference. Grrrrrr. I march myself to school and promptly explain to my principal that I will be needing another half day to take care of this. So, a couple of weeks later I embark on my 2nd trip to Northeast Minneapolis, ready to waltz into the consulate with all of my documents and walk out with a smug grin on my face. Again I arrive promptly as the doors are opening and explain to a nice mujer what it is I need. I wait patiently (grading essays) to speak with the hombre in charge of the type of visa I must obtain. When he finally calls me over, I set down all of my docs on his desk, showing him that I have come fully prepared. I look at him expectantly as he shuffles through my papers. When do you leave? he inquires. August 18th is my reply. Shaking his head he says we cannot process this yet. You come back in July. I'll have your visa by August 15th. While we're both speaking English, I feel somehow that we are speaking different languages. I don't feel good about this deal, but I also don't want to argue with the hombre who's doing his job. I end up reluctantly leaving, again, with nothing. Later that day I email Colegio explaining my experience and ask if this seems kosher. The response comes please go ahead and process your visa. After chatting with Peter, we decide we'll hit up the consulate after school is out. I feel good about the fact that there is strength in numbers. This brings me back to today. I've put on my big girl pants, I've conjured my inner Lindsay (sister #1 always knows how to work things in her favor--I often stand in awe), and I get into Peter's car feeling like this is the day. We arrive to the US Bank building off of Hennepin Ave where the consulate is housed and pause in the entrance to talk strategy one last time. As we approach the door to the consulate my heart sinks. It is open, but all of the filing cabinets and furniture have been moved into a big bundle and there is definitely no business going down here today. I turn to Peter with a crestfallen look and then start to laugh. For real?! We hear voices from inside of the office space, so we venture inside to find all of the consulate workers chillin' in chairs in a circle. I spot the hombre that I spoke with on my 2nd venture. The group moves towards us as I start with We need to get visas. To work in Ecuador. Ummm, when should we come back? Making eye contact with The Hombre I say We've spoken before. He replies yes I remember you with slight disapproval. He also remembers he told me to come back in July. When do you leave again? Hombre asks. I stand up a bit taller, puff up my chest a little, and reply August, but our school wants us to process the visas now. I'm waiting for Peter to chime in a bit, but silence from the Peanut Gallery behind me. With some reluctance Hombre looks around and instructs us to come back on Tuesday, when the renovation (that has yet to begin) is scheduled to be done. Peter and I nod our heads and mutter our good byes as we head back out the door, again, with nothing. I'm just cracking up by the time we hit the parking lot. Dude, I hope they still have all of YOUR documents I say, jibing him in the side. When he visited the consulate the previous time, he left all of his paperwork, minus his visa, with a mujer. Based on the scene in that office space, I'd be nervous, but Peter's cool with this. A much calmer man than I am woman. We buckle our seat belts as Peter shakes his head There's no way that place is going to be running by Tuesday. Yep, the misadventures have begun. Uffffff da. Stay tuned.