“Starting the process” wasn’t as simple as it sounded but for time sake, we’ll skip those gory details. Let’s just say it involved, among other things, me/Charlie (the Spanish speaking boyfriend of Megan) writing a letter detailing who I am, why I’m here, and why I need an extension.
We finally left with the plan that Megan and I would go back
the following Monday to complete the paperwork and be done once and for all.
Ha.
Yeah right.
Remember when they said I “might” have to pay $100? Well, by
‘might’ they mean ‘definitely.’ And they didn’t mean “go to our finance office
and pay a lady behind a desk $100 then bring us the receipt.” They meant, “Go
to this specific bank and deposit this specific amount into this specific account.” So bright and
early Monday morning, Megan and I set out to San Jose to finish this madness.
Between here (home) and San Jose there are a couple of different towns with the
bank I needed. EXCEPT THAT the banks open at 9 and by 8:45, which is when we
arrived, the line was literally wrapped around the building.
Every. Single. Bank. Between. Here. And. There.
I. AM. NOT. EXAGGERATING.
So as we approached the mall, Megan remembered that there
was a branch of the bank we needed inside the mall and surely, the line
wouldn’t be as long. We parked and walked up to the door to realize that the
mall didn’t open until 10 am so we did the only logical thing and went to get
coffee right outside the mall.
As soon as the mall door opened, we went
straight to the bank only to see that it didn’t open until 11 am. So we walked
around and killed a little time until the bank opened and we got in line. Just
before our number was called, I realized that I didn’t bring with me the
account number that we were supposed to deposit the money into. With high
hopes, we asked the teller if perhaps he knew the account number for
immigration. Naturally, immigration has 85 million account numbers and this guy
needed me to tell him which one I wanted to give him money for. So we got BACK
out of line, went to the car, got the paperwork and returned to the bank. We
got a NEW number, got BACK in line and waited for our turn. The NEXT time our
number was called I gave the teller everything he needed including my debit
card to pay the $100. FINALLY... we were making progress.
Ha.
In my dreams.
The bank’s online communication for credit cards was down
and the teller so gently told me that I needed to go to the ATM and get cash.
Lucky for me, this bank had an ATM right outside it’s door and this nice teller
would let me back in line without getting a new number. We went outside, got in
line for the ATM, and waited. When it was finally our turn, I stepped up to the
computer screen only to realize that it was out of money. BOTH of them.
Seriously?????
So we went around the corner of the mall searching for
another bank with working ATM’s until finally we found a bank with 4 ATM
stations outside of it. Pretty good odds, eh? ONE of the four worked for me and
I was on my way back to the bank I needed. We finished our business there at
12:10 pm. So we left the mall with the plan that we would go BACK to
immigration later in the week to turn in the bank receipt and the rest of the
paperwork.
The following Thursday, Megan and I went to immigration at 9
am and I told my substitute, “I should be back by lunch.”
......
Stay tuned for part 3 :)
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