Good news!

Remember this stuff?  Well, it's here! Finally!  Our stuff made it safe and sound from Miami to South Carolina to some small town in England, to our door in Spain!  Except that they didn't really drop the stuff off at our door.  The very kind movers explained that since we have no elevator (and we live on the 3rd floor), they couldn't help us carry the boxes up.  Yep, we were on our own.  After the movers left, we quickly sorted the boxes into three piles: light enough for me to carry, heavy, and hernia-inducing.  Being the true gentleman and overprotective husband that he is, the Professor only let me carry up five boxes that were mostly filled with linens and fragile stuff.  Then he carried up the other 15 boxes by himself while I did useful things like hold the door open and call down encouraging things from my perch on the third floor landing.  Isn't he grand? I've decided to reward him with a hamburger and a beer at one of our favorite pubs tonight :)

Anyway, we're very, very glad to finally have our stuff.  For the past week we've been cooking every meal in one saute pan and using plastic plates and forks to eat with.  Now, not only do we have our plates, silverware and pots and pans, we also have all of our books and movies, extra sheets and blankets, and of course some silly, sentimental stuff that just makes us feel at home like my collection of tiny, white ceramic bowls or my mule and huaso statue that my sister brought me from Chile.

I am really so relieved that everything made it in one piece (not a single broken thing!) and that our things arrived in a timely manner.  For how little we paid for our things to be shipped to us here, I really felt that maybe it was too good to be true and that we might be disappointed in the end.  I'm so glad that this wasn't the case.  Thank you to everyone at UPakWeShip for this experience!

Home is wherever I'm with you

In my last year of graduate school, I took a class on migration and identity.  In our class discussions, we mostly focused on what the concept of "home" means to people who have left their countries of origin to set up home in a brand new place.  Where do these immigrants call home?  Is it the place they left behind? The place with their families, their native tongue or their native foods?  Or is it the place that they move to?  With their new friends, their newly acquired customs and their second language?

As the Professor and I get ready to move to Spain (we officially become immigrants this Sunday!),  I keep thinking about these questions of home.  Although, we'll be leaving behind all of our family and all of our friends, we'll still have each other.  And while I'll always refer to trips back to Miami as "going home,"  I can't wait to set up a new home with my husband and our cat.

I wanted to share the song above with you guys. It's by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes and it makes me happy every time I hear it.   I think this song perfectly captures my feelings of what home is---it's wherever your loved ones are.

(Video:  Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros "Home" from Edward Sharpe on Vimeo)

After months of waiting and doing nothing, suddenly....

BAM! Everything happened in a week!  Last week I received my visa to live legally in Spain after applying for it two months ago (if you're new to this blog, you can read all my past complaints about that process here, here, or here).   That two month wait for my visa followed a three month wait for my FBI letter of good conduct, which I complain about here, here, and here (Yikes! I seem to do a lot of complaining on this blog.  I assure you, I'm not normally such a whiner.  Just when I have to move overseas and deal with two different countries' bureaucracies to do it).

So what does this visa news mean? It means that finally, FINALLY, we're going to Barcelona baby!  We leave this Saturday, December 17th and  arrive Sunday afternoon on the 18th. Yep, it's a long, long flight. Once we arrive, the University has reserved some faculty housing for us to stay in while we apartment hunt.   We'll have one week before Christmas to find an apartment! Eek!

In summary: very exciting folks! Packing and panicking to commence tomorrow!

P.S. The photo above is what it would look like if Gadget jumped up and celebrated with me. Too cute!

(Photo: Cat jumping for joy)

Update: We pack, they ship

Hello all! Remember this post from last week?  Well, our friends at UPakWeShip sent us an email yesterday updating us on our stuff.  As you can see, our boxes made it safely from Miami to South Carolina, where UPakWeShip are located, and have been inventoried and shrink-wrapped.  The next step is for these boxes to get on a boat to Europe!   We are so pleased and relieved to know that everything is proceeding as it should and that our stuff is in very capable hands.

Fingers crossed that we manage to get to Barcelona before our stuff does! :)

So you're thinking of moving abroad....

Start saving your pennies, because moving ain't cheap.  Especially when there's an ocean involved.  When the Professor and I first found out about the move to Spain,  we anticipated that things would get pricey.  We expected the expense of shipping our belongings overseas, the price of the plane tickets, and even the cost of having to buy all new furniture and home appliances once we arrive.  But there were also a bunch of other things that we didn't think to plan for.  In this post, I want to enumerate the expenses we incurred in our move in order to give you current or future travelers some idea of what you might expect to spend on an overseas move.  But don't despair! In addition to warning you about the cash you'll shell out on your move, I will also give you some tips on how to earn (or recoup) a little money too!

First, here is a list of things we needed to do or buy for the move and what they cost:

1.  Health certificate without health insurance (2):  $200

2.  FBI criminal background check application fee (2):  $36

3.  Apostille Certification on marriage license and background checks (total of 3 documents):  $30.

4.  Visa application fee (2): $280

5.  20 small packing boxes from Home Depot: $20

6.  Professional packing of our 32" flat screen TV (our shippers recommended we get this professionally packed since it's so fragile):  $62

7.  Shipping 30 cubic feet of stuff:  $720

8.  Health Certificate for our cat (including rabies vaccine, microchip, fecal matter exam, office visit): $180

Total spent thus far: $ 1,528

A hefty amount so far, eh? And I'm sure there'll be other unexpected costs along the way. But now for the good news: with a little effort and planning ahead, you can also save a little money on your move.  

1.  Do your research.  A lot of the unpleasant surprises the Professor and I experienced came about because we didn't do our research ahead of time.  If we had known how long our background checks would take or how far in advance to request a visa, we wouldn't have had to spend so much sending documents via Priority mail or paying to expedite things.  

2.  Ask.  You never know what you might get, unless you ask.  The Professor's future employer never mentioned helping to pay for our move or our flights when they first offered him the job.   We asked if they would pay for both of our plane tickets to Spain and they said yes! Then we asked them if we could stay in family housing on campus while we search for a long-term apartment, and again, they said yes!

3.  Sell as much as you can.  When you move anywhere, whether it be across town or across the globe, you will need to get rid of many things.  Fortunately, you can sell a lot of your stuff instead of just donating it to Goodwill (not that there's anything wrong with that!).  Towards that end:

 A) Go through your clothes and accessories.  If you don't wear it and it's in good condition, sell it.  We're fortunate to live near a store called Plato's Closet.  This chain store buys and sells gently used clothing. You just bring a bag of your stuff and they'll buy whatever they can sell.  I've made at least $70 selling my things (although this was over many trips). Don't expect to receive much for your things, but every little bit helps.  It also helps to be persistent.  Just because one store won't buy your jeans, doesn't mean another store won't. 

B) Craigslist.  The Professor and I listed all of our furniture and home appliances and in a week, our apartment was practically empty.  We sold some really nice stuff, like an IKEA Expedit bookshelf (for $80), but we also sold stuff we didn't think ANYBODY would want (including a printer my husband has had since 2000 which we sold for five bucks).  The important thing to remember about Craigslist is that your stuff is only worth what somebody would pay for it.  Don't list an item for how much you bought it for.  Be realistic. This is more or less an online garage sale, so price accordingly.  

C)  Cash in  your pennies.  If you're like us, you've got a few piggy banks loaded with coins sitting around in your house.  If you're moving abroad like us, you don't need these coins anymore.  We took our pennies to the bank, rolled them into tiny paper burritos, and got 50 in cash for them.

D)  If you don't have it yet, download Skype to keep in touch with family and friends back home.  Also consider unlocking your phone so that you can use it overseas. And if you'd like to keep your current phone number, port your number to Google Voice. It's free!

Whew! This post is getting long! I think I'll end it here folks. I really hope that this will help somebody because it sure would have helped us a few months ago.  I'll add additional tips as I think of them. 

P.S. Isn't that chalkboard piggy-bank by Ladies and Gentleman just too adorable?  I have a major crush on everything that store makes.  Check out their other stuff here.  

We pack, they ship

Readers, today I have two pieces of good news for you.  First, last week the Professor received his visa!!! Only three weeks after we applied!  We were super excited and thrilled.  The only slight downer is that there's still no word on my visa yet.  We're not that crushed about this though because when we submitted our applications, we were warned that work visas are issued MUCH faster than residency visas.  We're hopeful that there will be some word on my visa in a few weeks (fingers and toes crossed!)

The second piece of good news is that we've found a shipping company to move our things from Miami to Barcelona (yay!)  After much internet research and calling around for quotes, I decided to contact a company recommended by the expats from this blog.  This couple raved about a company called UPakWe Ship, so two weeks ago, I decided to give them a ring.   I have to say that in our interactions with them over the past few weeks, I have found them to be knowledgeable, friendly and PATIENT.  I emphasize the last bit because we had many questions for them that were kindly and calmly answered.  It's comforting to know that though something might seem like a huge undertaking in your eyes, for other people it is something they've done a million times with no problems.

 However,  the ultimate reason we decided to go with UPakWeShip, apart from the excellent customer service, was because they were the cheapest option.  Hands down.  As I mentioned in this post (and again in this post), the Professor and I are not taking any furniture.  Just books, clothes, home decor, artwork, photo albums and lots of kitchen stuff (more on what we decided to take and what we tossed tomorrow).  We decided that our belongings should neatly fit within 30 cubic feet of space.  For that tiny amount of stuff, we were quoted as high as $1300 from some other companies.  UPakWeShip quoted us at $720.   That includes the cost of shipping our things, customs fees, and delivery to our door once our stuff arrives in Barcelona.  No comparison, right?

So we're very happy with our decision and I would highly recommend this company to you guys.  Today, we will be taking our twenty, small boxes of stuff out of my sister's bedroom (where they've been sitting packed and ready since August) to a warehouse in south Miami.  From there, our stuff will go to a port in South Carolina (where UPakWeShip is located). Then our stuff will get placed on a boat en route to Europe and in 6-8 weeks, we should be reunited in Barcelona!

Oh the adventures our stuff will have! I'm a little jealous. :)

Presenting: Gadget

  

Readers, allow me to introduce you to the youngest member of our family.  This is our cat, Gadget. She is an eight pound calico cat who showed up on our doorstep six years ago.  She was (and is) a happy, perfectly healthy little cat who someone abandoned in our apartment complex.  When her previous owner left her, Gadget wandered around the complex, hid in bushes, relied on kind people to feed her and cleverly avoided getting hit by passing cars until one day she decided that our front stoop might be a good place to sit.  And that is how one day, upon opening my front door, I saw a somber, silent little cat sitting on our stoop as patiently as though she had rung the bell.  She has been a part of our family ever since, providing endless amount of entertainment (especially when there's plastic bags or gift wrapping about the house) and bestowing us with all of the love a cat can provide.

Because she is such a big part of our family, we are taking her with us to Barcelona (as I first mentioned in this post many moons ago).   Towards that end, there are many steps that one must take before transporting a pet from one country to another and every country has it's own rules.  Here are the steps for taking a pet to Spain:

1.  First, your pet needs to be up to date on all of their vaccines and shots and must be micro-chipped.
2.  Second, you need your vet to issue a certificate of good health.
3.  Third, you need your vet's certificate of good health to be endorsed by a veterinarian at the
     Department of Agriculture.

Once you have the above documentation, be sure to contact the airline to let them know that your pet will be traveling with you.  Every airline has a different policy and may require a specific kind of carrier or harness for your pet.  You will also need to pay for your pet's ticket.

I know the question that must be weighing on all of your minds right now, which is: how on EARTH do you get your normally active pet to stay still, be quiet, and not poop for more than eight hours?  Well this question worried us too.  Fortunately, I have a good friend who was able to share her experience on this very issue.  According to my friend,  who took two cats with her to Spain, she brought along a sedative for her cats but never ended up having to use it.  She figured her cats were too freaked out to make a fuss (poor things!).  Furthermore, her vet advised her to not feed the cats before or during the flight to ensure that they would not need to use the bathroom.  Just in case, she lined their carriers with puppy training pads.  The two cats are now living happily in Spain (as are their owners), so I'm feeling very confident that Gadget will be just fine and that this is totally doable (which is a huge load off my mind, by the way).

Today is Gadget's appointment with the vet to get her aforementioned health certificate.  I'll keep you guys posted on her adventures as she makes her way to Spain :)

One step closer...

Good news everyone. Yesterday the Professor and I presented our completed visa applications to the Spanish Consulate AND THEY APPROVED THEM! Yay!  It was a very validating experience although there were a few heart-stopping moments:

Consulate official:  I don't see your letter confirming health insurance coverage in Spain.
Professor and I:  (feverishly flipping through our paperwork) Uh....we didn't know we had to bring one....(exchanging panicked glances)
Consulate official:  Oh, well nevermind. You don't need it.

Different consulate official:  I need the original copy of your certificate of good health.
Professor and I:  Isn't it there?   It should be in that bundle of paperwork somewhere.
Different consulate official:  No, I just see two copies. Not the original.
Professor and I:  (again feverishly flipping through our paperwork) Um......
Different consulate official:  Oh here it is! It was at the bottom of this pile of paperwork.

So, now what? Well, now our applications are sent to Spain where they will hopefully be processed fairly quickly and then the consulate will get in touch with us when our visas are ready to be picked up.  They told us to expect the process to take at least one month.  After a month has passed, we can contact them to check on the status.

I'll keep you guys posted!

(Photos: Lisette van de Graaf @ Cute Suite)

We're off to see the wizard!

Today, the Professor and I are off to the Spanish consulate, hopefully for the last time. We are going to present to them our completed visa application with FBI background checks included.  Wish us luck!

P.S. Believe it or not, the poster above is also a book. In tiny, tiny, text the entire story of the "Wonderful Wizard of Oz" is printed around the main characters.  Pretty neat, eh?  If this is not your favorite work of classic literature, check out the website, kickstarter.com, for Pride and Prejudice, Great Expectations, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and others. 

Oh happy day!

Saturday was a very happy day indeed for me and the Professor.  On that day, we finally (FINALLY!) received both of our authenticated, official, background check letters from the FBI stating that indeed we are not criminals. This letter could not have come a moment sooner since I was one bureaucratic phone call away from contemplating murder. I kid, I kid! 

In case you're curious to see exactly what an FBI letter of good conduct looks like, here is a picture of someone else's.  The Professor wouldn't let me post our letters because he's convinced that someone could still hack our personal information even if I black it out.  I normally defer to his opinions on matters such as these since the only kind of hacking I know anything about is the kind involving a butcher's knife and a piece of meat. 

Once we received our letters, I quickly translated them into Spanish, then we took them to a bilingual notary so that that person could notarize that my translation was indeed correct. THEN we sent our original letters and the notarized translations to the Tallahassee Apostille office so that the State of Florida could authenticate our letters themselves.  Don't ask me why Florida has to authenticate a document that has already been authenticated by a federal agency.  At this point I don't ask any questions.  Once we get our twice-authenticated letters back from Tallahassee, we can return to the Spanish Consulate with our now completed visa applications. Whew! 

In short, things are rolling now folks! 

(Photos: Oh Happy Day!)

Conversations with the FBI of a non-productive nature

Last week, I received a letter from the FBI saying something I already knew: I am not a criminal.  Nevertheless, I was overjoyed.  With this letter, I could finally return to the Spanish consulate and shove my (finally!) completed visa application in their face (I might even be tempted to yell, "In your face" at this point even though I have never used that expression in my life).  I was so excited to receive this letter, that I was about to break open some champagne (or white zinfandel if I was in a crunch). I was about to cartwheel around my living room. I was about to jump up and down and screech with my hands waving about. I was about to post the stupid letter on my blog.  I was about to do all of these things until a thought hit me:  Where was the Professor's letter?  Why did I get mine when he didn't get his? After all, we sent in our background checks in the same envelope so, theoretically we should have gotten our letters at the same time.  

After briefly considering that my husband may be a serial killer and the FBI had finally cottoned on, I decided to call the FBI and find out why his letter was missing.

A brief disclaimer: This is not an actual conversation. During the actual conversation there was a lot more cursing (albeit with my hand over the mouthpiece).

Me:  Hi. My husband and I sent our background checks to be processed in the first week of July and yesterday, I received my letter of good conduct but my husband's letter has still not arrived.

FBI:  Oh, I see here that your husband's background check was sent along to another department to be authenticated.

Me: Authenticated? Does that mean that the official letter from the FBI that I received was not authenticated?

FBI:  Well, does your letter have a raised seal on it?

Me: Uh...no.

FBI: Well, I'm afraid your letter has not been authenticated.  We're going to need you to send that back to us so we can authenticate it for you and then we'll send it back to you.

Me: (passing my hand wearily over my eyes)  Okay.....and how long will it take for you to send it back to me?

FBI:  It should take no more than two weeks.

Me: WHAT?!  This whole process has already taken over ten weeks and it's not MY fault that the FBI didn't authenticate my letter in the first place when I clearly stated in my initial application that it needs to be authenticated.

FBI: Right. Well ma'am, we can't predict how long it should take. You see, once the mail gets to the FBI-

Me:  Fine, but why can't you just print another letter and THIS TIME actually authenticate it?

FBI:  Well, but we need to have the original first.

Me:  Okay, how about if I send in the original but in the meantime you go ahead and start working on an authenticated letter.

FBI:  Well, it just doesn't work that way.

Me: (grasping at straws. Note: straws mean logic in this metaphor) Look, I'm pretty sure that everything is computerized over there.  So, why can't you just print-

FBI:  Actually since the seal is official, that part is done by hand not a machine.

Me:  Right, but the letter itself was not handwritten. So....why can't you just print----Can I speak to your supervisor please?

As you can see, after hitherto living in a world where logic and reason can solve any problem, I came unceremoniously crashing down to a world where being on hold and being spoken to like you're the one who is not making any sense, is the norm.

What is the upshot of this post?  We don't have our letters yet so our visa applications are still sitting untouched in the consulate.  Oh, and in case it wasn't clear, if I never hear the words "FBI background check" again, it will still be too soon.

Lessons in nonchalance

Nothing freaks out the Spanish.

After taking the entire month of August off for the summer vacations, our point person at the University of Barcelona just returned to work on Thursday, September 1st (and not a moment sooner apparently!). Upon turning on his computer and opening his email, he saw the five emails the Professor and I had sent in August desperately trying to get in touch with him to tell him that we doubt we'll be able to make it to Barcelona by the time of the fall semester start date which is THIS Thursday!  In our emails, we told him that our FBI background checks, which should arrive next week, were holding up our visa applications and that the Spanish consulate told us that under no circumstances should we buy our plane tickets without having our visas in our hands.  Thus, the whole month of August the Professor and I chewed our fingernails and waited anxiously to hear back from the University, fearing what they would say.

So, what did they say?  No problem! They said that they're sorry for not getting back to us sooner and that we shouldn't worry about this minor (!) delay.  They'll just switch the Professor's class from the fall semester to the spring semester.  In other words, instead of teaching a course beginning September 15th as originally planned, he will now teach a course beginning in February.  Of course, they still want us to get there in October or November so that we can get settled in, find an apartment, fill out the appropriate employment paperwork, and get to know the city before the winter holidays. But basically they reassured us that the job was still there, that everything would work out, and most importantly, not to freak out.

That last bit is a little difficult for us (mostly me actually). Freaking out is something I do naturally. I seem to have a gift for freaking out and if I do say so myself, I'm better at it than most people I know.  That's why these Keep Calm and Carry on posters, ubiquitous though they may be, really speak to me. And while I love many of the variations that have sprung up in recent years, I really think we need a Spanish version of these.

The Professor and I were brainstorming what the Spanish versions would say:

Me:  Keep Calm and Drink a Beer (Tranquilizate y toma una cerveza)

Professor:  Keep Calm and Eat Tapas  (Tranquilizate y ve de tapas) 

Me:  Keep Calm and Take a Nap (Tranquilizate y toma una siesta)

Professor:  Keep Calm and Go on Vacation (Tranquilizate y ve de vacaciones)

This list could go on and on.  So what about you guys? Got any calming mantras? Or can you think of any to add to our Spanish inspired list?

Happy Monday!

You CAN take it with you....or you can try anyway

It's the first week of August and our belongings are neatly packed in boxes awaiting further instructions.  As our visa application drags on, the Professor and I have begun researching how to get our belongings from Point A to Point B(arcelona).  As I mentioned in a previous post, we're planning on shipping our stuff over by boat but we haven't decided which shipping company we will use as of yet (if you guys have any suggestions, I'm all ears).  

Even though almost all of our things are already packed, there are a few things which carry much too much sentimental value to be bubble-wrapped and squeezed into a box alongside our gravy boat.  I have decided that my tea pot and photo albums are so precious that they must travel with us in our suitcases (preferably our carry on) because I just can't trust some shippers (is that what they call themselves?) to treat them with the care they deserve.  

I'm sure you guys understand why the photo albums are sentimental, but the tea pot? Seriously? YES! I am serious about my tea. I'm half Persian and Persian tea runs in my veins. I easily drink about ten cups a day (the cups are pretty teeny, but still).  Nothing makes me feel more at home then sipping a warm, aromatic cup of tea.  For that reason, I know that when we get to Barcelona and we're in our new apartment looking at blank walls and boxes of unpacked stuff, I will be needing that cup of tea. 

For those of you who have never experienced the delight of Persian tea, just stop by our apartment (address forthcoming). Or in the meantime, make a cup yourselves.

You will need:

1)  A tea pot

2)  A tea kettle (electric or stove-top)

3)  Loose leaf tea. Two parts Darjeeling, one part Earl Grey (no tea bags please!)

4)  A few cardamom pods 

Instructions:

1)  Bring a full pot of water to boil in your electric or stove-top tea kettle.

2)  Spoon 2 teaspoons of Darjeeling and 1 teaspoon of Earl Grey tea into your tea pot.

3)  Crack your cardamom pods and place into your tea pot.

4)  When the water has boiled, pour the water over the tea in your tea pot.

5)  If using a stove-top tea kettle, place your tea pot on top of the kettle to steep the tea, like so.  If you are not using a stove-top kettle, you may place your tea pot on a samovar (which is the traditional way), on a hot plate, or on a stove burner set to warm (you don't want to burn the tea!)

6)  After five minutes or so of brewing, pour the tea into a small, clear, glass cup.  It is very important that the glass be transparent so you can judge the strength of the tea by its color. Good Persian tea is an amber color. 

7) Fill the glass cup half way with tea from the tea pot, then fill up the remainder of the cup with hot water from your tea kettle. 

8)  Enjoy with a cube of sugar.

So there you have it! My cure for homesickness!  What's yours?  What symbol of home would you take with you?

(Photos: Kiana @ The Barcelona Story)

You make it look so easy

Most of the living-abroad blogs I read talk about the great move from the U.S. to wherever they now reside as if they just happened to pick up and land somewhere glamorous.  They skim over mentions of what it’s like to rearrange your life or leave it at a total standstill.  They skim over descriptions of tedious, frustrating things like visa applications, packing up and shipping your stuff, and juggling work commitments to fit around the big move.  And no one talks about what all of the above does to your relationship with the person you’re moving with (or for).

Since finding out about the Barcelona move, the Professor and I have been excited, nervous, impatient, frustrated and stressed out.  Exactly in that order (perhaps I’ll coin the term, “The Five Stages of Oversees Moving”).   This is pretty understandable.  When you get the bureaucratic run around from a government official, inept Consulate worker, clueless Health Department lackey, you get pissed off and stressed out and you take it out on each other.  Your days become less about enjoying your time together and more about making endless checklists of what needs to be done and in what order.  You start having arguments caused by miscommunications (“I thought you called the shipping company”) and arguments caused by stubbornness (“I know that’s how you do it but this is the way I pack”) and arguments that start about something little but snowball into the silent treatment.  

Some of these arguments are really stupid and are easily resolved (“Fine, I’ll pack according to your method”).  But some of these arguments are about deeper issues that don’t get talked about unless  they are brought up in a fight about something else entirely.  The deeper issues are normally based on unspoken fears that because unspoken, fester until they reach their boiling point.  For us, these fears are mostly rooted in uncertainty: What if the visa application drags on so long that we can’t move in time and the university retracts its work contract?  What if I can’t find a job over there? What if we don’t make any friends? What if we can’t find a decent apartment for our budget? What if the airline doesn’t let us take our cat? What if the shipping company loses/damages our stuff? What if we don’t like living over there?  Note that because I’m a pessimist by nature, these questions normally assume a worst-case scenario rather than for instance, “What if we have so much fun over there we never want to come back?”   

The resolutions to the deeper issue fights are harder to come by because ultimately no one can answer your questions and assuage your fears.  Your partner can’t tell you that it’ll all work out because they don’t know that and you know they don’t know and it annoys you that they’re telling you what they think you want to hear.  But they tell you that anyway.  Partly because they want you to believe it and partly because they’re reassuring themselves.  And your job, as a good spouse, is to listen and only roll your eyes slightly at your partner’s foundation-less but optimistic assurances, take a deep breath, and talk it out. Be honest. Be calm. Realize that you’re both stressed out, frustrated and afraid. And then, take a step back, put down the phone or the laptop, and do something fun together.  Reconnect.  And then go eat some chocolate. 

(Photo: French by Design)

We don't need no stinkin' background checks!

Actually, it appears that we do need our stinkin’ background checks.  By the way, if you don’t know where that oft-quoted line comes from, either rent Mel Brooks’ classic Blazing Saddles, or check out that line’s Wikipedia page here (that’s right, the line has its own Wikipedia page).   

Yesterday was the Professor and my first visit to the Spanish Consulate in Miami.  It actually went better than we expected.  For one thing, there were only about 15 people there in total so getting there an hour early in order to be the first ones in line was unnecessary.    Secondly, we weren’t turned away because we didn’t have an appointment even though the consulate’s website specifically states in bold and in all capital letters that they will NOT see you without an appointment ( I guess we showed THEM).  

However, the one thing that we feared would happen did indeed happen.   The consulate official carefully inspected each of the documents we brought until she discovered that we were missing our FBI background checks.  We tried to explain to her that we had submitted these to the FBI over three weeks ago but there is no way to expedite the process and no one at the FBI can tell us anything about our background checks until it’s been at least four weeks (and even then they don’t make any promises).  We hoped that if we brought every single document with us to the consulate minus the background checks, they could at least go ahead and send our documents to Spain for processing.   It turns out that the Spanish are not as laid back as we give them credit for.  Beneath the disguise of long lunches, siestas, and bar-hopping, there lurks an annoying need to have all one’s paperwork in order. 

So, what now?  Well now we have no choice but to wait for a response from the FBI.  Then it’s back to the consulate with our documents for the second go around.  BUT, I am trying to be positive and optimistic about the whole scenario (and if you read this blog, you know that does not come naturally to me).   The silver lining is that we can now spend more time in Miami catching up with our family and friends and saying goodbye to our hometown.  Plus, (and this is my cynical side coming back out), if the whole process was smooth sailing, what would I have to blog about?

Vicky Cristina Burocracia Part 2

Okay, remember how in my last post I talked about how the Spanish Consulate requires all visa-seekers to get a health certificate from a doctor that assures them that you don’t have cholera, yellow fever, the plague or West Nile Virus?  Well, apparently this is a challenge of SARS- breakout proportions.  

The problem is that first of all, the Professor and I do not have health insurance.  We haven’t had health insurance since we graduated from grad school and were covered by the university’s student health care center.   After calling the student health care center, we learned that even though we’ve been immunized there and had blood work and lab work done there, they can NOT issue us a health certificate because we are no longer students and we might have contracted something medieval since we graduated.   Fine.  So I called my local Health Department and explained the situation to them.   I figured that since they are the entity responsible for immunizing people traveling abroad, they would be able to help us out.  After being transferred to four different people at the Health Department who had no idea what I was talking about, I was told to contact an urgent care center.   I contacted four urgent care centers.  All of them told me to contact the Health Department.  Do you see where this is going? 

Finally, on a call to the fifth urgent care center on my list and running out of patience (who am I kidding? I was out of patience by urgent care center #3), I spoke to a very chirpy nurse who told me that the doctor would write us our letter in English and in Spanish (I almost swooned) as long as we bring in our immunization and medical records from the university.  So, our appointment is at the end of the week and our fingers are crossed that everything will go smoothly and the bureaucratic nightmare is over.  Let’s just hope that my optimism is contagious. 

P.S. Penelope's face in this picture is totally how I feel right now. 

Vicky Cristina Burocracia

Before you picture yourself setting out for Barcelona presumably to give Javier  Bardem a back rub, there are a couple of things you need to know.  First of all, moving to Spain is a royal pain in the culo. We never thought the process would be easy and we knew that Spain was infamous for its bureaucracy. But it’s one thing to tell yourself it won’t be easy, and it’s quite another to want to bang your head against the wall after someone transfers your call to the person you spoke to before your call was transferred to someone else.   Did you follow that?  Neither did I. 

Most of the frustration is caused by the Spanish visa application process.  In case you didn’t know, if you want to live, work, or study in Spain, you need a visa.   In our particular case, we need to be issued a work visa.  The requirements for a visa are pretty straightforward.  You need a criminal background check by the FBI, an official letter from a doctor affirming that you have no communicable diseases (including but not limited to: any STD, smallpox, cholera, polio, yellow fever, Ebola, West Nile Virus, etc), two visa applications, two passport sized photos, and most importantly, a contract of employment from a Spanish business.  The latter, after a delay of two months, was received the day before yesterday. 

Since receiving the contract, the Professor and I have been trying to get the background checks and health care checks crossed off our list.  This has essentially meant that for the last two days, we’ve been on hold with every telephone operator in the Spanish Consulate of Miami, the Criminal Justice Department, and the Health Department.   The Spanish Consulate is only open from 9am-1pm which is extremely convenient unless you (like me) work from 8am-12pm.  This means that during my lunch break from 12:30-1pm, I’m on the phone with the Consulate trying to ascertain what showing “proof of sufficient financial support” means while stuffing a tuna salad sandwich into my mouth. 

For our FBI background checks, the Professor and I got fingerprinted by our local police station and mailed in our applications last week. We thought this would be a pretty speedy process: just run our fingerprints and verify that we are the angelic innocents we claim to be.  Not so fast!  Apparently, the FBI needs eight weeks to determine if you’re a criminal.  That’s right. EIGHT weeks. I called the FBI today, fairly confident that with enough emotional appeals and firm requests (plus my willingness to pay whatever it would cost to expedite the process), we could speed this up a bit.  What was I thinking?  After I was transferred to different departments and forced to listen to elevator music on loop,  the nice lady I spoke to firmly assured me that no expedite process exists, no fee will move the process along, and you may check back with us in eight weeks.  I wanted to cry out of frustration.  Instead, I called the Consulate back.   I explained that the FBI’s bureaucratic background check process would take a month and a half which would essentially hold our visa application hostage until we hear back from them.  She told me that we can still bring all of our other documents to begin the visa application process and bring an official document from the FBI that says that our background applications were received and are being processed.  So I guess I’ll be calling my friends at the FBI back again tomorrow.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  I can probably do another long follow up post tomorrow while on hold.  Meh.

You're moving to Barcelona?!

That’s more or less the reaction we’ve gotten every time we tell someone our big news.  I probably should mention that this is more the excited reaction of our friends and not really our family members.  Our family members, while happy that we’re happy, were a little dismayed at first that we would be moving an ocean away (I particularly remember my dad asking why the Professor didn’t apply for a job opening at a university in Boca Raton, where we could be a mere hour’s drive away albeit surrounded by old people).   

Family members aside, most people, like Janice, in this clip from Friends above, are thrilled and excited for us because they imagine Barcelona to be this sexy, glamorous and sophisticated place akin to Paris, Rome, or London.   I have to be honest-- so do I. However, as I found out a few weeks ago, this view is not necessarily shared by people who are actually from Barcelona.   At a dinner party given by a close friend of mine, the Professor and I met a Catalan couple who had lived in Barcelona for many years.  They felt it their patriotic duty to disabuse us of any romanticized notion of what it would be like to live in Barcelona.  Apparently, petty crime is rampant and prostitutes abound not only in the dodgy areas of the city which we’d already read about and planned to avoid, but apparently in the upscale, nicer parts too.  But crime and prostitution don’t really bother me –after all I am from Miami.  

The part of their warnings that did scare me a bit is when my new Catalan friend pulled me aside and said, “I don’t want to paint my people in a bad light….” and then proceeded to paint her people in a very bad light.  According to her, Catalan people in specific and Spanish people in general, are not very fond of South Americans as a rule.  In their view, South Americans (or to use the derogatory term used by some Spanish people, “sudacas”) are uneducated, lower-class, and generally rude people.  As she put it, “People are going to think that your husband must have been a genius to have been hired over a Spanish citizen.”  When I mentioned that I’m only half South American and that the other half of me is Persian, she said “Worse! Listen, I understand the cultural complexities of your background, but to the average Spanish person, you’re just an Arab, a moro.”

Needless to say, I was taken aback and a little turned off by her frankness.  I normally like people who are straight forward and give their honest opinions. But I couldn’t help but feel like I was being insulted. At worst, my heritage was being put down by someone who didn’t even know me. At best, I was being spoken to like I was naïve and had never encountered discrimination.  The more I thought about her comments on the way home though, the more I realized that she was just trying to be kind and tell me what she honestly thinks I don’t know.  But I DO know. I’ve lived in the U.S. my entire life and even though I’m from a big city where everyone comes from somewhere different, I HAVE been made to feel like I don’t belong here.  I’ve had people make fun of my weird name and my weird food.  When I tell people where my dad is from, I hear all kinds of questions, some innocent and insular (“So do you guys have electricity over there? Does everyone ride camels?”) and some really offensive (“So do you believe the Holocaust never happened? Do you agree with the terrorists?”)  I’ve also been looked at weird for busting out Spanish when no one knew I was Hispanic.  I’ve had people ask me if I’m Mexican or complement me on my really good English.  The point is: despite all the inane and belittling comments, I can keep my chin up and come up with a way to respond to these people that does not compromise my kindness or dignity (okay, so not all the time). 

So, I’ll be okay in Barcelona.  I may get some weird looks or some mean questions, but in addition to my Hispanic hips and Middle Eastern eyes, I’ve also inherited some pretty thick skin.  So I’ll be okay.  I’ll keep the warnings in mind, but I refuse to judge Barcelonans before I’ve actually met them. And I’m sure we’ll make friends from all over the globe as we seem to do everywhere we end up. 

I’m just really hoping that my biggest problem is a hooker.  

To ship or not to ship?

One of the most contentious issues we’ve faced since finding out that we’re moving overseas has revolved around what to do with our stuff.  As stuff goes, we’ve got quite a bit of it.   When the Professor and I got married almost three years ago, we received (amongst other gifts) some Le Creuset kitchenware, really nice stainless steel pots and pans, serving platters, luxury bedding, and various assortments of home décor.  We’ve also got around 200 books, a fairly new flat screen TV, several pieces of artwork and some Crate and Barrel furniture that we picked out ourselves.  The problem is that we can’t decide whether we should ship these belongings to Barcelona or if we should sell as much as we can and go to Spain with whatever we can shove into four suitcases. 

Most people who we have consulted about moving to Spain have told us to go with option B, sell your stuff and travel lightly.  The basis of their argument is that first of all, we probably won’t need our stuff.  Apparently most rental apartments in Spain come with dishes, pans, knives, shower curtains etc. and furthermore, many apartments are furnished.   They also point to the cost of shipping itself.   When you ship your belongings, you not only have to pay the shipping costs but you also have to pay a tax on your stuff once it arrives at Spanish Customs.   Of course how much you pay in shipping has everything to do with how much stuff you’re bringing because the shipping companies will charge based on the volume of goods.  Also, how much you pay in taxes depends on the total value of your belongings. 

The Professor and I want to go with option A.  Sell what we can live without, but take all of our nice stuff, artwork, books, TV and some furniture with us.  The way we see it, we’re going to be living in Spain for quite some time (the Professor’s contract is for an initial 3 years, then an additional five depending on his performance, then tenure!).   Therefore it would seem to make sense to bring our belongings so that we don’t have to buy everything from scratch and we don’t have to live with other people’s furniture in case it’s not our style (we’re very particular) and in case we damage it.

However, perhaps the biggest reason that the Professor and I are leaning towards option A is emotional.  Plain and simple, we’re attached to our stuff.  It sounds really materialistic to say this but I believe that your stuff is what makes your home your home.   I know that a TV is a TV and a couch is a couch.  But the painting you brought back from your trip to Colombia is unique, the glass cat statue your dad bought you is unique, the handmade tapestries given to you by your sister are unique.  It would be great if these three things were the only stuff we have that has sentimental value, but the truth is that I’ve always surrounded myself with things that remind me of people and places that I love and I think I’d feel lonely and empty without them.

So, my dear reader, what do you think?   Have I made a convincing argument?  Do you think we should go with Option A or B?  Is there a middle-ground?

On flying with cats

It occurred to me the other day that I had never really been on a plane until I graduated from college.  Before graduation, I had been on a plane once when I was ten on a family trip to Toronto. Now I seem to be flying all the time. The irony of this is that while I love to travel I’m also a terrible (read: terrible) flyer.  I hate flying.  I don’t mind the mind- numbing waits at airports, the uncomfortable airplane chairs, or even the airplane bathrooms (which I actually think are kind of cute in a Tokyo-apartment kind of way).  No, what I hate is not being able to shake the feeling that at any minute we are going to crash and plummet to our deaths and that if by chance I do happen to survive the crash, I would drop into the sea where miraculously I do not drown but am instead devoured by a school of sharks.  I am one of those people who actually pay attention to the stewardess when she provides the just-in-case-you’re-about-to-die, do-this procedure.  I have actually shushed my husband if he tried to talk to me during this. 

Nor does it help that I am extremely motion-sickness prone.  I’ve gotten nauseas watching fast-paced car chases in movies.  So there you have it.  On a trans-Atlantic flight, I am sick to my stomach, green in the face, and willing myself to remember if you should stay perfectly still when you see a shark or if you should just try punching it in the face.  My husband is the complete opposite as a flyer.  He loves to fly.  He takes advantage of the free newspapers (normally getting one in every language even those he does not speak), gets a glass of wine with every meal and watches as many movies as he can. 

So what kind of flyer do I expect our cat to be?  Does she take after her mommy and will she also be battling sharks, or will she be curled up next to her daddy reading a copy of El Pais? Yes, readers (or reader, rather):  We are planning on taking our cat with us to Barcelona.  I’m actually surprised when people seem surprised about this.  Why shouldn’t we want to bring her? She’s been a part of our family for five years.  Yet, many people whom we’ve told have reacted with a mixture of bewilderment and disapproval.  I don’t know what they expect us to do. Take her to a shelter? Unload her on a family member? (not that she wouldn’t be an excellent addition to anybody’s family). So now we are deep in the research on the proper shots needed, what kind of carrier we need to buy, and how to make sure she doesn’t have to poop for 12 hours.  ¡Qué lío!