The Result

Who cares about a couple of plane complaints when we all knew what it was good for (not everyone knew, nor is starting a piece with a question much supported in writing-ville)?

Long story short: I’ve got the Work Holiday Visa. I’m allowed to stay in Canada for the next 22 months. Can someone please show this to the USA and laugh in their face? I’m already banned for life from their country, but I don’t want them doing something veto-y and throwing me out of another North American country. I just want them to know that there are countries out there that don’t suspect me of anything that could hurt anyone/anything just because I badly want to enter their country.

That wasn’t a very short story. Let’s make it even longer.
After asking every airport person where I had to be to get my visa interview, I finally ended up in front of a young man who asked me if I knew if the 23 months thing was possibly a typo because he had never heard of it before. Turns out New Zealand is the one country that wants you gone less than two years.
I was asked if I had had medical screening (no), and knew that because of that I would be unable to work with children, sick people, and so on. Fine, it’s not like I hang around those on a regular basis anyway. Next he told me to wait because he had to print my visa. And hey, put all the paperwork away. Maybe ten minutes. If it wasn’t for the sheer exhaustion that was weighing me down, I would have laughed hysterically. So very nervous, and so quickly fixed.

Today we went looking for a Service Canada Centre, to get a social security number. I was told it could take up to two weeks to get one sent home, so I had both hotel and farm address at the ready.
I filled in a form, got called in five minutes later and in another ten I had my number. We don’t send anything any more, Michael said (he introduced himself, he wished me all the luck and Merry Christmas), we just give the number out directly.

I’m still flabbergasted about how quickly and efficiently this happened. Will I wake up tomorrow with an e-mail from Border Control that all this was a fuck up and that I have to leave the country immediately? Let’s not check my mail until Sunday, just to be sure.

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