The Consulate as Purgatory

Somehow I ended up with two appointments to apply for my visa with the Spanish Consulate on St. James Ave. in Boston. One was arranged by email and the other by phone. A "quick" phone call to sort out which was the real appointment found me on hold for 20 minutes, resulting in a brusque reply, "Many people getting visas. Don't cancel your appointment." Hmmm...I guess its better to have too many appointments than none?


So I was lucky and showed up for the first of my two appointments and they had me on their docket for that day. So far so good! Here is a modified version of my conversation with the Agent at the Spanish Consulate through an inch-thick sheet of plexiglass:



Agent: So you're applying for a visa to Spain.



Me: Yes.



Agent: Hablo Espanol?



Me: No. (in my mind: But I've taken 6 years of Spanish classes between high-school and college, and I'm brushing up now like a maniac!)



Agent: Please sign your application with today's date and location



Me: Okay (signing documents)



Agent: And you have copies



Me: Yes, how many?



Agent: Two. And your supplement?



Me: What's a supplement



Agent: (sigh) You don't have a supplement form?



Me: No



Agent: (irritated, handing me the form) Please go fill this out over there.



Me: um..



Agent: NEXT!



(I fill out the supplement form, which, interestingly enough, contains much of, but less of the information as on my Schengen Visa application and get back in line)



Me: Here's the supplement form, sir.



Agent: do you have more documents?



Me: (handing over my School acceptance and information form) Yes.



Agent: (wanting a photocopy of the above-mentioned form) Copy. Anything else?



Me: (handing over my health information forms) Yes.



Agent: Copy. Anything else?



Me: (handing over my financial information forms) Yes.



Agent: Copy. Anything else?

Me: (handing over my apostille) Yes.



Agent: Copy. Anything else?

Me: No.



Agent: Have a seat. We'll call you.



The office has filled up by this time and no seats are available. I sit on the floor where after an hour and a half of waiting, my butt falls asleep. I didn't know that was even possible! After completing the Soduko and crossword in the day's Metro Newspaper and reading some of Conrad's Heart of Darkness, I wonder if I am really in Hell's waiting room instead of the Consulate and if they are just gearing up to deny me a visa and kick me out of the office. There's no room for me, anyway.



Agent 2: (calls my name, in an irritated manner, numerous times).



Me: (scrambling up awkwardly with my sleepy butt) yes, yes!

Agent 2: Are you applying for a work visa or a student visa?

Me: Student visa.

Agent 2: but your visa application is for 10 months.

Me: Yes, my program is a combination of classes and an internship in a school.

Agent 2: (looking displeased) I will have to see if this is okay.

Me: (just now realizing that there is one/are many people beyond the plexiglass in discrete offices who are scouring everyone's application) okay.

Agent 2: Have a seat.

I wait for approximately 20 more minutes, when I am then recalled to the dividing wall between me and them.

Agent 2: Okay, so you will be reviewed for a 90-day visa. Call back on July 30 to confirm.

Me: So what can I do for the remaining time, as my program is for the year.

Agent 2: You can apply for an extension at the local police station once in Madrid.

Me: (stunned) ummm...okay?

Here's to my month-plus purgatory waiting for my visa. *Salud* as they say in Spain, or if you're feeling sassy and Mexican, "arriba, abajo, al centro, adentro" (up, down, center, inside)!