Canada – DU Abroad

Yesterday was honestly the day I have been dreading for nearly a month. As a US passport holder and in consideration with the length of time I’ll be staying in Ireland, I wasn’t required to apply for a visa. Which is both a blessing and a curse, I guess, because I had to make an appointment with immigration for a residence permit instead. This wouldn’t have been something to dread if the immigration office in Cork City was still able to register residence permits, but due to some recent policy changes, only the Dublin office is able to issue them. Dublin is 2 hours and 45 minutes away by train, over 3 hours if you take the bus. And my appointment was made for 10 AM (times were not exactly negotiable).

So I woke up around 5 AM, headed to the train station by cab, and got on a direct train to Dublin at 6:15. I had everything I needed (or thought I did), including documents like recent bank statements to prove I have the funds to sustain myself while abroad, a letter of health insurance to prove I will be covered should there be need for medical treatment, my passport, etc. To see an immigration officer/representative, you have to enter your confirmation number into a kiosk, which will give you a ticket. On a whim, I decided to double check that confirmation email and my heart absolutely dropped. Even though I had read through the email about three times, I had missed the portion that directed me to print it out to gain entry to the building. And I had not printed it out. Immediately, I was looking up print shops in Dublin, but my train was arriving at 8:30- too early for stores to be open. I figured that if I walked to the print shop, it might be 9 by the time I get there, which was the opening time for a lot of the places I was looking at.

I got off the train around 8:45 (I’m not sure why we got there 15 minutes late, especially since there were no stops), and booked it to the nearest print shop which was about a 15-20 minute walk. But the place was closed. Even though Google Maps had said it opened at 9, the store’s hours said 10. After a lot of deliberation, I decided to head over to the immigration office, hoping I’d have a better chance of figuring things out if I could talk to someone who worked there. Luckily, I was right. The immigration officer directed me to a print shop (that was, in fact, open) about a 10 minute walk from the office. He assured me that even if I got back after 10, they would still see me (which was a huge point of concern for me).

I raced to the print shop, met another girl there who was in the same situation as me (I guess this happens all the time, which made me feel marginally better), and rushed back with all the necessary documents. The office itself wasn’t busy- even though it was closer to 10:30 by the time I finally checked in, there were only two people ahead of me waiting to be seen. When my number was finally called, I handed the immigration officer all my documents and my passport, but apparently, I was also missing a letter of registration from my university. After a long, anxiety-ridden 20 minutes (I’ll spare you the uninteresting details), I was able to get the letter of registration and show it to the officer. (Apparently, this was something that students needed to request, but once I did request the document, it was emailed to me within two minutes). I was finally able to pay for my residence permit, and my passport was stamped.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to spend any time in Dublin, but I am looking to go back to spend a weekend there soon. I had already bought a train ticket for 12 PM ahead of time, figuring I’d be in and out of immigration, based on what I had heard from my friends’ experiences. As that was not the case for me, and I didn’t want to waste the money I had paid for the ticket, I headed back to the station and got on the 12:00 train. I had been up for so long at this point- as I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before- that I slept on the train for about an hour. I had exhausted myself by adding unnecessary stress to the whole experience. And it totally was my fault. I thought I was prepared and had everything in order, I checked and double checked, but some very important things still got overlooked. Instead of worrying about my appointment being cancelled, or any other horrible outcome (and believe me, all of those were running through my mind), I could have enjoyed experiencing a new city. I could have gone through a simple, painless process, but instead I complicated it. It’s important to acknowledge that: I got humbled.

Moral of the story: read the confirmation email twenty times and bring even the documents that you think might be insignificant, just in case. Ask your friends who have gone to their appointments already to see what the immigration officers asked for. Don’t overlook the tiny details in a very important process. I’m lucky that the immigration officers wanted to help me, rather than turn me away. Hopefully this is a learning experience, because it’s never too late in life to have a truly humbling moment like I did.

November 1st. Officially two months abroad and wow, it’s been eye opening. Not necessarily in the positive, stereotypical light that one would expect during their study abroad journey, but one that is still slightly positive. However, this trip so far has proven to be the most difficult thing for me to accomplish in my life thus far, mostly because this experience has pushed me out of my comfort zone in so many ways. Managing my expenses, doing all my homework on time and to the best of my ability, and trying to make the most of being abroad while still maintaining my sense of self is overwhelming, so overwhelming that in the course of two months, my need to go home is immense.

Before I left, around the middle of May, I got a knot in my stomach every time I thought about going to Ottawa. I just couldn’t even imagine myself living abroad by myself (not even any acquaintances from DU) and being able to have a decent experience. It was so great that I even considered pulling the plug on the application. But my parents and friends insisted that I go on this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, to which I agreed, and buried my fears under a strong, artificial confidence that I broadcasted to everyone asking about my upcoming travels. As soon as I stepped in the airport, a few minor suitcase mishaps occurred and the next minute I was crying in the middle of the airport with both of my parents consoling me. It wasn’t over a dumb suitcase mishap, it was because I was going abroad and it was too late to pull out.

From the moment I left the airport, I tried to be strong and enjoy my experience. There were (and probably will be) some positive moments in my experience. Walking around Ottawa on my own time and seeing all my surroundings is fun. Eating poutine, my new local comfort food, for lunch every Friday has become my weekly routine. The occasional trips that the International Office conducts are interesting, too. But, other than that, this experience has been pretty tough for me so far at many different angles. I like the school part of UOttawa, meaning that my classes are fascinating to attend, but I think I ultimately chose the wrong timeframe and program. I think I would be better off doing a summer term program, where it is a little shorter. A fall semester is long, compared to the fall quarter at DU. Time goes by so slowly here and for me, it’s awful. I also don’t think I, as a person, am cut out for studying abroad. I get nervous traveling to a new part of Denver, why would I even bother going to a foreign city?

But I did, and I’m here, trying to make the best of this situation I put myself in. That, in itself, is the moral of my post: if you have any knots within your stomach, pay attention to them! Do what is best for you and not what other people think! Studying abroad is a great experience and one could look at it as a realization of sorts. Had I not come abroad, I would have never realized how difficult it was for me, thus determining how I will handle these experiences and travel differently in the future. So, study abroad was worthwhile for me, in that capacity. But it also taught me to trust my gut from the get go. There was a reason there seemed to be a billion knots in my stomach prior to me leaving. I wished I would’ve paid attention to that.

My ultimate goal is to finish my classes strong and start getting my belongings packed for my departure. I still have six-ish weeks left until I leave, but it’s never too early to start sorting through stuff to make the packing easier during finals.

I don’t know when I’ll write a new post, maybe when I leave in a few weeks. We’ll see. . . until next time!

Tag: Canada

My Immigration Appointment

Two Months Abroad- What I know for Certain Now