Oh my, indeed.
Today is the 25th of July and I am only an inch closer to making it to India, with classes beginning August 8th. I don't know how this is all still possible either, but I maintain that it is somehow.
About a week or two ago (the days run together now that I'm no longer doing the 9-5 gig), Jay and I zipped ourselves up to Oshkosh to visit North High School and get my transcript in person, after the school secretary said that she had both mailed and emailed me copies over a week prior. I received neither and didn't trust that I'd get them in the near future so off we were, enjoying that ride through the corn fields. Returning to the halls of my school was quite strange. We also toured my old neighborhood, the lake area, Main Street, and enjoyed some local frozen custard. Upon our return to Madison that afternoon, I thought I'd go check my PO box quick and you know what adorable little parcel was snuggled up against a catalog in there? My high school transcript. An immediate smack in the face that we had wasted a trip, gas money, and a day. But, Jay was incredible, patient and showed kind interest in my childhood. We actually had a great day together, despite the nonsense.
Two days later, we were off and running to Chicago to flash my complete set of papers before the Indian Consulate so they would attest them and I could ship them off to the Association of Indian Universities in New Delhi. Simple. The Consulate is open from 9:30am-12:30pm for such business. We arrived at about 11 (not optimal timing, but our morning start was a bit rough). At the window, a man notified me that my diplomas and transcripts first must be authenticated by the Department of State. What? Yes, I did read about this on the Consulate website, but when I emailed their office about it, I had understood that that piece was waived in my particular instance. I had understood incorrectly, and when I showed proof of this email (so organized) to a woman who then came to the window, she pointed out that I was asking about a university application, not diplomas/transcripts, and that is a different matter. Ah yes. She said that if I could get the items authenticated by the Department of State at such-and-such address downtown Chicago today, she would allow me to come back between 4-5pm today to re-attempt. It was a Friday, so we had no option to stay overnight and finish matters the next day (note to anyone trying to do anything like this in the future: don't pick a Friday!). We went out into the hallway and I found the number for the Department of State in Chicago and gave them a call, only to be told that they do not do such authenticating and that I must work with the Washington, D.C. office. A moment of utter, gut-punch defeat as I leaned into the wall behind me and sunk down to the marble floor of the NBC Tower. This means I would have to mail things to DC, if they accept it via postal mail, then wait for them to return my documents, then return to Chicago, which certainly would not be possible in time for August 8 commencement of classes. The end. I thought. But something in me yearned for the comfort of a Madisonian who would know what they're talking about, so I then called the Wisconsin Department of State and explained the situation. The woman there said that in Wisconsin, they can do the authentication at her office, but only for documents issued by Wisconsin schools, meaning that I would have to go to Minneapolis for my Minnesota diploma. Again, defeat. But this incredible woman thought it through and noted that it would be odd for Illinois not to be able to help. She looked up the phone number for the Secretary of State for Illinois and passed it along to me to try. It was different than the number I had called and when I tried it, I learned that I had probably called the Federal Department of State the first time. The Illinois Secretary of State official said they could do it (for all universities, regardless of state!) and I could come by today. It was about a mile away and the car was parked in a ramp costing me a fortune, so I didn't want to yank it out only to pay another fortune in another ramp, so we walked it. We thought we had a bit of time. We even walked through Taste of Chicago, which was going on in Grant Park, though a bit out of our way, but we were hungry and opportunistic regarding such timing of our trip with a city festival. But lines for food tickets were insane so we headed back toward our destination. Once we got to the Secretary of State's offices, the gentleman at the window informed me that I would need to have all of my documents notarized first. Seriously? So he gave us a map to a place that would do it. But on the way we found a Bank of America where I have a loan. Sweet glory. Bank of America. It was about 4 blocks away, rather than the 8 blocks away to the other place, which we later realized was a critical distance to any successes of the day. Because of the need for duplicate copies, I had about fourteen documents to be notarized and I had to hand-write "I certify that this is an original document signed by Jessica Haven on July whatever, 2012" and write lines for his signature and title and my signature. It seemingly took forever, the clock was ticking, and our stomachs were gurgling. And of course, BoA Paul had to try to sell me a checking account, you know, "for when you return from India," while I tried my best to be gracious and pretend that I was in any shape to think of where I'd be or what I'd be doing upon my return from a place I was failing to even get to. Eventually we made it out of there, just in time for a downpour of rain and raucous thunder. We never thought to check the weather so we just had shorts, tee shirts, sandals and a backpack. No umbrella, jackets, sweatshirts, whatnot. But that didn't stop us. Hunger did, so we dashed across the street to a Panera hoping that they had gluten-free soups, but they did not. The counter person was even so kind to look through the binder of recipes for an excruciatingly long period of time. Jay grabbed a hot chocolate for a little short-term sustenance and we were off, running back to the Dept. of State. On our brows, sweat and raindrops were indistinguishable. Our clothes wetly clung to our bodies as we dodged pedestrians. At one point, Jay is lagging behind but shouts with struggled gasps of breath that I should keep running and he'll catch up. I later find out he tripped and injured his foot. Jay caught up to me as I waited for an elevator back at the Dept. of State building. We board the elevator and all is silent and slow for a few moments, as if nothing is the matter. I attempt composure as I place my wet hair behind my ears. Back at the window, I hand everything over, and the man tells me that my documents are not notarized correctly. Blinking raindrops from my eyelashes, I'm in disbelief. He gives me a sample of how it should be worded exactly and I'm running through the streets again back to BoA. Literally, I'm running along the side of the street to avoid pedestrian congestion on the sidewalks, but hitting many a puddle and noticing the stinging feeling of blisters forming on my feet. In the meantime, somehow Jay shouted out a plan amongst the crowds, vehicles and chaos that he'd stop at Chipotle to get us food, then TJ Maxx to get a towel and umbrella, and meet me back at the Dept. of State. I made it back to BoA Paul and explained the matter. I had to, once again, write a statement on each of my 14 documents for him to sign. It pained me to have all of this scribbling on my official high school and college diplomas, but I knew that someday when my WSU diploma is back in its frame, I might just be proud of the extra scribbling if it means I got my ass to India. As Paul is signing, I notice that it's 3:12pm and the Dept. of State office closes at 3:30. C'mon, Paul. Please don't try to sell me a savings account. I'm off. My swiftest running and dodging of the day occurred during this time. I hear some shouting but keep running, but eventually I realize it's Jay when he catches up to me. He had a hot burrito and a dry towel in a bag in one hand and a shiny new umbrella in the other. We continued to run, run, run and made it to that elevator once more. The towel came in handy. I got to the window with minutes to spare and turned my documents in. I was asked to wait then while they would be processed. Jay and I rested and I began to devour some food, but soon found that I felt ill from trying to eat amidst such chaos. And within about ten minutes I was called back and given my documents with the most beautiful gold sticker affixed to each one of them. Muah! The longest stretch was ahead, back about a mile to the Indian Consulate. Our next mission was to hail a cab. We were both cab-hailing virgins. We awkwardly attempted, and then took advantage of a cab stopped in traffic, already containing a passenger with his window rolled down. I approached the window and made my plea that he share his cab. He noted that his stop was only a block away so he wouldn't mind walking it and got out for us. The cabbie laughed and said that no one is ever that cooperative. A short cab-ride later and we were back at the Indian Consulate. My god. It must have been about 4:30. Everything happened with no time to spare throughout the day. I got to the window right away and was so disorganized with my documents that the woman suggested I step away to gather things up and return when I was ready. I did so, sorting my duplicate piles and returned. Another Consulate employee came by and joked around with me, having me toss a coin regarding the fate of my documents, and it was comforting. The woman took my money and documents and stamped them all up as attested and sent me on my way. Wow. It was done. That woman was my savior that day.
Jay and I didn't really know what to do with ourselves after that. We were still rather hungry and super fatigued. I had planned to find a FedEx to ship everything off to Delhi but thought I could do it the next day. Jay generously insisted that I do it today, to have it completed. I think he's picked up on how I like to push, push, push to get things done in one shot, rather than take breaks, be patient, etc. so this was him, once again, being SuperBF. Across the bridge was a FedEx in a hotel lobby. I made copies of everything and got it in the mail right before they closed at 5:30. We might have exchanged a high five after this. We then collapsed in the lobby and discussed our plan. We decided to spend the night and try to relax and enjoy some of Chicago instead of driving home and Jay hooked us up with a very slick Priceline deal. The hotel we got was smack in the center of downtown so we could enjoy a nice dinner and a day of museums, parks and Taste of Chicago the following day. That, we pretty much did. In fact, there may have been some overindulgence that hit the pocketbook, but oh well. A few other things to mention... At the Field Museum the next day, I got to push injured-Jay through it in a wheelchair. There's a cute photo of that. And we topped our Saturday off with dinner and sweets on Devon Avenue where all the Indian businesses are. Jay even successfully haggled over the price of some Bollywood DVDs he bought for his mom for her birthday. We also picked up some fresh, exotic vegetables from a grocer which his grandmother enthusiastically prepared for us a couple days later in Madison. Yummmm. Jay was an incredible source of strength and reassurance all day, not to mention how heroically and selflessly he ran around the city with me, only to assist me in leaving him for a year. I'm a very grateful girlfriend and experienced some teary moments in the streets of Chicago related to all that.
So that's that saga. Next steps are to hear back from the Association of Indian Universities and have them send my equivalency results to Amrita University, hoping for an admission letter so I can return to Chicago to apply for my visa. Oh, we'll see!
Today is the 25th of July and I am only an inch closer to making it to India, with classes beginning August 8th. I don't know how this is all still possible either, but I maintain that it is somehow.
About a week or two ago (the days run together now that I'm no longer doing the 9-5 gig), Jay and I zipped ourselves up to Oshkosh to visit North High School and get my transcript in person, after the school secretary said that she had both mailed and emailed me copies over a week prior. I received neither and didn't trust that I'd get them in the near future so off we were, enjoying that ride through the corn fields. Returning to the halls of my school was quite strange. We also toured my old neighborhood, the lake area, Main Street, and enjoyed some local frozen custard. Upon our return to Madison that afternoon, I thought I'd go check my PO box quick and you know what adorable little parcel was snuggled up against a catalog in there? My high school transcript. An immediate smack in the face that we had wasted a trip, gas money, and a day. But, Jay was incredible, patient and showed kind interest in my childhood. We actually had a great day together, despite the nonsense.
Two days later, we were off and running to Chicago to flash my complete set of papers before the Indian Consulate so they would attest them and I could ship them off to the Association of Indian Universities in New Delhi. Simple. The Consulate is open from 9:30am-12:30pm for such business. We arrived at about 11 (not optimal timing, but our morning start was a bit rough). At the window, a man notified me that my diplomas and transcripts first must be authenticated by the Department of State. What? Yes, I did read about this on the Consulate website, but when I emailed their office about it, I had understood that that piece was waived in my particular instance. I had understood incorrectly, and when I showed proof of this email (so organized) to a woman who then came to the window, she pointed out that I was asking about a university application, not diplomas/transcripts, and that is a different matter. Ah yes. She said that if I could get the items authenticated by the Department of State at such-and-such address downtown Chicago today, she would allow me to come back between 4-5pm today to re-attempt. It was a Friday, so we had no option to stay overnight and finish matters the next day (note to anyone trying to do anything like this in the future: don't pick a Friday!). We went out into the hallway and I found the number for the Department of State in Chicago and gave them a call, only to be told that they do not do such authenticating and that I must work with the Washington, D.C. office. A moment of utter, gut-punch defeat as I leaned into the wall behind me and sunk down to the marble floor of the NBC Tower. This means I would have to mail things to DC, if they accept it via postal mail, then wait for them to return my documents, then return to Chicago, which certainly would not be possible in time for August 8 commencement of classes. The end. I thought. But something in me yearned for the comfort of a Madisonian who would know what they're talking about, so I then called the Wisconsin Department of State and explained the situation. The woman there said that in Wisconsin, they can do the authentication at her office, but only for documents issued by Wisconsin schools, meaning that I would have to go to Minneapolis for my Minnesota diploma. Again, defeat. But this incredible woman thought it through and noted that it would be odd for Illinois not to be able to help. She looked up the phone number for the Secretary of State for Illinois and passed it along to me to try. It was different than the number I had called and when I tried it, I learned that I had probably called the Federal Department of State the first time. The Illinois Secretary of State official said they could do it (for all universities, regardless of state!) and I could come by today. It was about a mile away and the car was parked in a ramp costing me a fortune, so I didn't want to yank it out only to pay another fortune in another ramp, so we walked it. We thought we had a bit of time. We even walked through Taste of Chicago, which was going on in Grant Park, though a bit out of our way, but we were hungry and opportunistic regarding such timing of our trip with a city festival. But lines for food tickets were insane so we headed back toward our destination. Once we got to the Secretary of State's offices, the gentleman at the window informed me that I would need to have all of my documents notarized first. Seriously? So he gave us a map to a place that would do it. But on the way we found a Bank of America where I have a loan. Sweet glory. Bank of America. It was about 4 blocks away, rather than the 8 blocks away to the other place, which we later realized was a critical distance to any successes of the day. Because of the need for duplicate copies, I had about fourteen documents to be notarized and I had to hand-write "I certify that this is an original document signed by Jessica Haven on July whatever, 2012" and write lines for his signature and title and my signature. It seemingly took forever, the clock was ticking, and our stomachs were gurgling. And of course, BoA Paul had to try to sell me a checking account, you know, "for when you return from India," while I tried my best to be gracious and pretend that I was in any shape to think of where I'd be or what I'd be doing upon my return from a place I was failing to even get to. Eventually we made it out of there, just in time for a downpour of rain and raucous thunder. We never thought to check the weather so we just had shorts, tee shirts, sandals and a backpack. No umbrella, jackets, sweatshirts, whatnot. But that didn't stop us. Hunger did, so we dashed across the street to a Panera hoping that they had gluten-free soups, but they did not. The counter person was even so kind to look through the binder of recipes for an excruciatingly long period of time. Jay grabbed a hot chocolate for a little short-term sustenance and we were off, running back to the Dept. of State. On our brows, sweat and raindrops were indistinguishable. Our clothes wetly clung to our bodies as we dodged pedestrians. At one point, Jay is lagging behind but shouts with struggled gasps of breath that I should keep running and he'll catch up. I later find out he tripped and injured his foot. Jay caught up to me as I waited for an elevator back at the Dept. of State building. We board the elevator and all is silent and slow for a few moments, as if nothing is the matter. I attempt composure as I place my wet hair behind my ears. Back at the window, I hand everything over, and the man tells me that my documents are not notarized correctly. Blinking raindrops from my eyelashes, I'm in disbelief. He gives me a sample of how it should be worded exactly and I'm running through the streets again back to BoA. Literally, I'm running along the side of the street to avoid pedestrian congestion on the sidewalks, but hitting many a puddle and noticing the stinging feeling of blisters forming on my feet. In the meantime, somehow Jay shouted out a plan amongst the crowds, vehicles and chaos that he'd stop at Chipotle to get us food, then TJ Maxx to get a towel and umbrella, and meet me back at the Dept. of State. I made it back to BoA Paul and explained the matter. I had to, once again, write a statement on each of my 14 documents for him to sign. It pained me to have all of this scribbling on my official high school and college diplomas, but I knew that someday when my WSU diploma is back in its frame, I might just be proud of the extra scribbling if it means I got my ass to India. As Paul is signing, I notice that it's 3:12pm and the Dept. of State office closes at 3:30. C'mon, Paul. Please don't try to sell me a savings account. I'm off. My swiftest running and dodging of the day occurred during this time. I hear some shouting but keep running, but eventually I realize it's Jay when he catches up to me. He had a hot burrito and a dry towel in a bag in one hand and a shiny new umbrella in the other. We continued to run, run, run and made it to that elevator once more. The towel came in handy. I got to the window with minutes to spare and turned my documents in. I was asked to wait then while they would be processed. Jay and I rested and I began to devour some food, but soon found that I felt ill from trying to eat amidst such chaos. And within about ten minutes I was called back and given my documents with the most beautiful gold sticker affixed to each one of them. Muah! The longest stretch was ahead, back about a mile to the Indian Consulate. Our next mission was to hail a cab. We were both cab-hailing virgins. We awkwardly attempted, and then took advantage of a cab stopped in traffic, already containing a passenger with his window rolled down. I approached the window and made my plea that he share his cab. He noted that his stop was only a block away so he wouldn't mind walking it and got out for us. The cabbie laughed and said that no one is ever that cooperative. A short cab-ride later and we were back at the Indian Consulate. My god. It must have been about 4:30. Everything happened with no time to spare throughout the day. I got to the window right away and was so disorganized with my documents that the woman suggested I step away to gather things up and return when I was ready. I did so, sorting my duplicate piles and returned. Another Consulate employee came by and joked around with me, having me toss a coin regarding the fate of my documents, and it was comforting. The woman took my money and documents and stamped them all up as attested and sent me on my way. Wow. It was done. That woman was my savior that day.
Jay and I didn't really know what to do with ourselves after that. We were still rather hungry and super fatigued. I had planned to find a FedEx to ship everything off to Delhi but thought I could do it the next day. Jay generously insisted that I do it today, to have it completed. I think he's picked up on how I like to push, push, push to get things done in one shot, rather than take breaks, be patient, etc. so this was him, once again, being SuperBF. Across the bridge was a FedEx in a hotel lobby. I made copies of everything and got it in the mail right before they closed at 5:30. We might have exchanged a high five after this. We then collapsed in the lobby and discussed our plan. We decided to spend the night and try to relax and enjoy some of Chicago instead of driving home and Jay hooked us up with a very slick Priceline deal. The hotel we got was smack in the center of downtown so we could enjoy a nice dinner and a day of museums, parks and Taste of Chicago the following day. That, we pretty much did. In fact, there may have been some overindulgence that hit the pocketbook, but oh well. A few other things to mention... At the Field Museum the next day, I got to push injured-Jay through it in a wheelchair. There's a cute photo of that. And we topped our Saturday off with dinner and sweets on Devon Avenue where all the Indian businesses are. Jay even successfully haggled over the price of some Bollywood DVDs he bought for his mom for her birthday. We also picked up some fresh, exotic vegetables from a grocer which his grandmother enthusiastically prepared for us a couple days later in Madison. Yummmm. Jay was an incredible source of strength and reassurance all day, not to mention how heroically and selflessly he ran around the city with me, only to assist me in leaving him for a year. I'm a very grateful girlfriend and experienced some teary moments in the streets of Chicago related to all that.
So that's that saga. Next steps are to hear back from the Association of Indian Universities and have them send my equivalency results to Amrita University, hoping for an admission letter so I can return to Chicago to apply for my visa. Oh, we'll see!
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