A study in embassies

So, as some of you know, I'm all set up to go on this dig in Turkey this summer. Everything's pretty much in order, I'll just wrap up classes and these orientations in the next few weeks and then fly out. All I need to do (famous last words) is get my research visa from the embassy. Since I requested it be sent to Serbian embassy, I went on Tuesday to go and pick it up after being told by dig director they had been released a few weeks before.

To give some context, that same afternoon I went to the US embassy to get additional pages put into my passport (I've run out of complete blanks thanks to Ukraine entry/exit stamps, so figured it was best to have virgin pages for this Turkish visa). My appointment was for 3, after going through the security check, leaving cellphone and ipod behind I penetrate the consular section. Security guy there (after going through a door labeled exit at the a narrow stairway) asks my name, there is no one at the check-in desk so he tells me to go sit down and wait for my name to be called. I go, I sit (I listen to directions).

After maybe 10 minutes I find a person through the thick plate glass of one of the windows (it's like a high security bank with numbered teller windows) and they "check me in". A disembodied voice announces who needs to go where, directing people to both payment kiosk and other places for papers. I'm the only one whose announcement is in English, give a lady my passport through a little slot along with paperwork I've filled out, told to wait. I'd called Eric beforehand, he actually is able to make it down and find me, so we while away the time chatting a bit in the completely sterile white environment with blue plastic chairs. The whole passport thing takes maybe 45 minutes, my visiting a bit longer.

I then head to Turkish embassy, a building I pass daily. This isn't the high security edifice of my compatriots. There's a metal detector when I walk in the door but no security guard to man it. I make my way up worn marble steps to a glassed in waiting area with a door that gives access to the rest of the main hall (the building is an old one with interesting marble tile work and period motifs on the walls and ceiling). There are two chairs, a desk that faces the window with a phone on it and a little tiny slot to desk on opposite side (where the embassy types roam free).

Because I've been verbose I won't go into excruciating detail but it takes me 15 minutes to convince the people that I do need a visa because it's for research. They take my papers with information about director, project, etc, leave, come back, leave again. One man comes through the door and tells me that he is not allowed to leave because of me (what can you say to that?). Finally I'm told they have nothing for me, I need to call my people and get back to them later. The others who have trickled in during this interlude all get their passports back with documents inside, the last being a pair who are taking a group of kids on an excursion (over 40 passports for them - can you imagine?).

It turns out that all the visas for the dig ended up going to the DC embassy. And that they cannot send visas to other embassies. So my passport left this morning for a trip across the Atlantic without me, here's hoping it makes it back in time for my flight in early July. I'm a bit more relaxed about the whole thing now that the deed has been done, but feel even more empathy for my Serbian compatriots and the rigors they must go through to get any kind of visa. As Uroš put it, it's like they deliberately set out to humiliate you. And yes, I'm still not in the pit of despair, but it's disconcerting being abroad without ones documents. To put it mildly. But the DHL guy today was totally helpful and I'm optimistic (again, not a big surprise, right?) that everything will work out for the best.

PLUS my birthday is next Friday! And how can I not be excited about that? Also got to hang out with Bogdan Rakic on my terrace this evening, catching up as the evening deepened into night. Who would have thought when I had him in class all those years ago we'd end up here like this? Life is a beautiful thing - as the incredible grandmother I was sitting next to in the park today said "Don't worry, be happy." Words to live by.

Enough (pseudo) moralizing. Enjoy summer truly beginning!