There are no fitted bedsheets in China. I call them bungie sheets but apparently I'm the only one. I did not know this before I came. One of the other ex-pats asked, "Didn't you do any research before you came?" as if fitted bedsheets are at the top of every blog post about China. Yes, Michelle, I did do research. Didn't think to ask about the bedsheet situation in China. So here's at least one blog post with fitted bed sheets at the very top. You're welcome world.
Two weeks.
It seems longer. Way longer, and not because of it being an awful time or anything like that. Every day is just fucking packed. I've had almost zero idle time. If it's not work it's paperwork for staying here, or karaoke or watching a soccer match that starts at 2 am. I've packed a month and a half of activity in two weeks it seems like.
The school. It's inside a shopping mall, which is weird. The training at this school is actually pretty top notch. I heard horror stories of people getting to a school and just getting handed some chalk on their first day and being told to teach the present perfect tense today. Good luck! It's 3 weeks of online training, classroom training, observations and then team teaching. You can go from zero teaching experience to teaching confidently in three weeks. It's actually quite remarkable.
Little kids and the elderly stare at me. Mouth agape, blatantly. I was warned about this but it's not something I think you can really be prepared for. Just wave and say ni hao. A teenage girl almost ran into me at the mall and she just looked up and me and says, "Uho! English man!" I haven't made any kids cry but apparently my roommate Tom makes children cry almost daily. A tall long haired Brit with a patchy beard. Guess he's terrifying to little kids. On the plus side for Tom, the same traits that children find terrifying just drops the panties of the local girls here. Can't take this guy anywhere without hearing that anime laugh follow us wherever we go.
And the main thing. Everybody wants to help the stupid foreigner.
Example. I was riding the bus and a couple of the local English teachers were on the same bus. They told the bus driver which stop was mine and asked him if they could help me out. Now that's sweet of them but I have an app that tells me exactly when to get off, and I just recognize my neighborhood now. So I'm looking at my progress on the app and it's just the driver and myself and suddenly he turns off his route onto a dark deserted road. My stomach instantly sank. I was like, "Oh shit. I hope they only take one kidney." But then, we started heading in the direction of my stop.
He had turned off his route and bypassed the two stops between where we were and my stop so the guowai wouldn't get confused. He left people in the rain, for me, a stranger. Now is that too polite? Yeah, 100%. But I feel a lot of us in the States can learn a little bit from our neighbors across the sea.
I also have a series of videos called First Impressions that chronicles when I try something for the first time. Enjoy everyone
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
Endurance
You can tell a lot about a country by how their customs operate.
Canada, the US, Guatemala and Honduras at least, they want to know what you're bringing in. Sure you need a passport but they ask you if you have this that or the other thing. Also where you visited and where you're going.
Nobody at Shanghai Pudong ever asked me what was in my bag. Nobody on the plane passed out a customs sheet to claim anything. What they did do is make me fill out a form that wanted to know exactly where I was staying, for how long, etc... What they did do was fingerprint me twice as well as take a photo. Stand in line forever. All of this before baggage claim. When I did get my bags I walked through the exit. That's it. I could have brought anything.
Conclusion. China wants you to feel watched. China cares more about control than somebody bringing in too much alcohol or cocaine. I'm not really surprised, I was just stunned that nobody was even there to stop anyone and ask questions about "what's in the bag?"
The adventure. Oh boy. So after being at the airport 3 hours early and then flying and traveling for 16 hours, I arrive in Shanghai. I could never tell you if Shanghai is beautiful, picture attached of what I saw.
So I fill out this form and can't find the address of the school. I had paid for internet earlier in the flight but it had expired. No cell service, no internet, no problem. Shanghai Pudong is a modern international airport, they will for sure have Wi-Fi. I get in and sure enough, bingo. You need a phone number to get a code texted to you with a login key. Fubar. There's also a kiosk option too. All of the kiosks are on the other side of customs...
For someone who's never read the book "Catch 22" I am very familiar with the term thank you very much.
This is fine. I've been up for 20 hours, I can handle this. I ask the guy that was sitting next to me on the plane, "Hey, how important is this address?" He answers, "Uh, they'll send you back."
"Really?"
"Yeah, no joke. I've seen it happen."
This is fine.jpeg
Plan, get in line and find a person around me with internet access to look up the address of the school. It's a good plaaaann great plan.
So here's the rub. I'm an American. I know, shocker. I try not be your stereotypical American though. I try to research and be sensitive to other cultures when I go to visit them and whatnot. I do, however, fall into some classic American traps. For example. Like most, if not all of the people around you are going to speak English, especially if they're white. I warn you now good sirs and madams, this assumption will leave you with deep disappointment and sadness in the customs line at Shanghai Pudong. "Mi Scusi?"
So now I have to duck out of line and talk to a bunch of strangers. A bunch of strangers. Finally, I find a cool cat from Scotland who'll hook me up. Get it all inked in. Remember all those bunches of people I mentioned before? They come into play now.
Now the line is at least twice as long as it was before. I'm sweating from nervousness and 111% humidity. Finally get to the front and I was so focused on the address part I forgot to fill out the other half of the form. I managed to do that from memory though.
Being as delayed as I was the carousel that had been carrying my baggage was now being used for another plane, how rude! And the Chinese, being the efficient and friendly operation that they are, have removed my bags and taken them into the back. Another line!
It took me an hour and a half to finally get out of that nightmare of my own causing and through customs. My poor driver had been waiting a total of two hours. Bless that tiny Chinese man. If he had been gone there's no telling what I would have done in the effort to get the Chinese to deport me.
He informs me that because I was late now there's traffic, it'll be three hours to Zhangjiagang, but he encourages me to sleep.
I have a theory. The horn was invented in China. I think this because they seem to be very proud of it, and seem to have perfected making them as loud as a hyena orgy. There was no sleep in that car.
Finally, I get to the apartment complex. 25 hours later. I'm met by my contact and sponsor, Evangeline and another teacher from the school. They dote on me. They try and accommodate me. They offer to take me out for food. They are very nice and I am very tired. I don't want to go buy a bunch of water I need beddy by. So they show me to my apartment building. My apartment, it's on the fifth floor, and I only have 80 pounds of luggage strapped to my body and in my hands. Never skip leg day kids.
You may not believe me but I did it in one go. I've never been so sweaty in my life. Evangeline tries to show me what all the switches and buttons inside the apartment do. I tell her to just show me how the A/C works and I'll press all the buttons in the morning. The good news is there is, in fact, A/C, and each bedroom has it's own unit. There has never been greater news. I show the ladies the door. I use the complimentary bar of soap that they gave me in my welcome kit as shampoo, face wash, and body wash, not having the energy to search my bags for the bathroom supplies I bought. I set my alarm and lay naked on the bed without having dried off, having not bothered to look for a towel either. I then fall into what is probably the deepest and most restful sleep I have ever had. I am then woken up 11 hours later by what can only be a car driving into a 20-foot diameter gong over and over.
I am not even mad.
Canada, the US, Guatemala and Honduras at least, they want to know what you're bringing in. Sure you need a passport but they ask you if you have this that or the other thing. Also where you visited and where you're going.
Nobody at Shanghai Pudong ever asked me what was in my bag. Nobody on the plane passed out a customs sheet to claim anything. What they did do is make me fill out a form that wanted to know exactly where I was staying, for how long, etc... What they did do was fingerprint me twice as well as take a photo. Stand in line forever. All of this before baggage claim. When I did get my bags I walked through the exit. That's it. I could have brought anything.
Conclusion. China wants you to feel watched. China cares more about control than somebody bringing in too much alcohol or cocaine. I'm not really surprised, I was just stunned that nobody was even there to stop anyone and ask questions about "what's in the bag?"
The adventure. Oh boy. So after being at the airport 3 hours early and then flying and traveling for 16 hours, I arrive in Shanghai. I could never tell you if Shanghai is beautiful, picture attached of what I saw.
So I fill out this form and can't find the address of the school. I had paid for internet earlier in the flight but it had expired. No cell service, no internet, no problem. Shanghai Pudong is a modern international airport, they will for sure have Wi-Fi. I get in and sure enough, bingo. You need a phone number to get a code texted to you with a login key. Fubar. There's also a kiosk option too. All of the kiosks are on the other side of customs...
For someone who's never read the book "Catch 22" I am very familiar with the term thank you very much.
This is fine. I've been up for 20 hours, I can handle this. I ask the guy that was sitting next to me on the plane, "Hey, how important is this address?" He answers, "Uh, they'll send you back."
"Really?"
"Yeah, no joke. I've seen it happen."
This is fine.jpeg
Plan, get in line and find a person around me with internet access to look up the address of the school. It's a good plaaaann great plan.
So here's the rub. I'm an American. I know, shocker. I try not be your stereotypical American though. I try to research and be sensitive to other cultures when I go to visit them and whatnot. I do, however, fall into some classic American traps. For example. Like most, if not all of the people around you are going to speak English, especially if they're white. I warn you now good sirs and madams, this assumption will leave you with deep disappointment and sadness in the customs line at Shanghai Pudong. "Mi Scusi?"
So now I have to duck out of line and talk to a bunch of strangers. A bunch of strangers. Finally, I find a cool cat from Scotland who'll hook me up. Get it all inked in. Remember all those bunches of people I mentioned before? They come into play now.
Now the line is at least twice as long as it was before. I'm sweating from nervousness and 111% humidity. Finally get to the front and I was so focused on the address part I forgot to fill out the other half of the form. I managed to do that from memory though.
Being as delayed as I was the carousel that had been carrying my baggage was now being used for another plane, how rude! And the Chinese, being the efficient and friendly operation that they are, have removed my bags and taken them into the back. Another line!
It took me an hour and a half to finally get out of that nightmare of my own causing and through customs. My poor driver had been waiting a total of two hours. Bless that tiny Chinese man. If he had been gone there's no telling what I would have done in the effort to get the Chinese to deport me.
He informs me that because I was late now there's traffic, it'll be three hours to Zhangjiagang, but he encourages me to sleep.
I have a theory. The horn was invented in China. I think this because they seem to be very proud of it, and seem to have perfected making them as loud as a hyena orgy. There was no sleep in that car.
Finally, I get to the apartment complex. 25 hours later. I'm met by my contact and sponsor, Evangeline and another teacher from the school. They dote on me. They try and accommodate me. They offer to take me out for food. They are very nice and I am very tired. I don't want to go buy a bunch of water I need beddy by. So they show me to my apartment building. My apartment, it's on the fifth floor, and I only have 80 pounds of luggage strapped to my body and in my hands. Never skip leg day kids.
You may not believe me but I did it in one go. I've never been so sweaty in my life. Evangeline tries to show me what all the switches and buttons inside the apartment do. I tell her to just show me how the A/C works and I'll press all the buttons in the morning. The good news is there is, in fact, A/C, and each bedroom has it's own unit. There has never been greater news. I show the ladies the door. I use the complimentary bar of soap that they gave me in my welcome kit as shampoo, face wash, and body wash, not having the energy to search my bags for the bathroom supplies I bought. I set my alarm and lay naked on the bed without having dried off, having not bothered to look for a towel either. I then fall into what is probably the deepest and most restful sleep I have ever had. I am then woken up 11 hours later by what can only be a car driving into a 20-foot diameter gong over and over.
I am not even mad.
Saturday, June 16, 2018
Preparation
Less than two weeks.
I can't tell you how many people have asked me if I'm all packed up. No. No, I'm not. I still have to exist in the days before I move. Let me just put my bed in storage and pack up all my underwear and live out of a suitcase for over a week. I'll be doing that soon enough.
When going to a country like China there are other preparations. Like finding VPN's that work and getting them pre-loaded. Making sure the documents you triple checked are quadruple checked so they let you out of the airport. Making sure your bank doesn't freak out and lock down all your accounts. Figuring out how you're gonna stay in touch with friends and family (Skype: caboose2006. WeChat: caboose2006. Reddit: caboose2006. Steam: caboose2006. At least I'm consistent. ) What about your mail? How about recurring bills? Packing is very very low on my agenda, and yes Kim my room's a mess. I'm cleaning everything when everything's out of here. Sheesh.
Starting Monday things will be moving very fast for me. That's T-minus 1 week. All of you are gonna want to get your goodbyes and farewells in. I may not have time, don't take it personally. All of you are welcome to come run errands with me. All of you are welcome to keep me company while I pack. And all of you are welcome to help me move my shit into Erin's' garage (pizza and beer provided).
You are all wonderful and beautiful people.
Best Wishes,
Tim
I can't tell you how many people have asked me if I'm all packed up. No. No, I'm not. I still have to exist in the days before I move. Let me just put my bed in storage and pack up all my underwear and live out of a suitcase for over a week. I'll be doing that soon enough.
When going to a country like China there are other preparations. Like finding VPN's that work and getting them pre-loaded. Making sure the documents you triple checked are quadruple checked so they let you out of the airport. Making sure your bank doesn't freak out and lock down all your accounts. Figuring out how you're gonna stay in touch with friends and family (Skype: caboose2006. WeChat: caboose2006. Reddit: caboose2006. Steam: caboose2006. At least I'm consistent. ) What about your mail? How about recurring bills? Packing is very very low on my agenda, and yes Kim my room's a mess. I'm cleaning everything when everything's out of here. Sheesh.
Starting Monday things will be moving very fast for me. That's T-minus 1 week. All of you are gonna want to get your goodbyes and farewells in. I may not have time, don't take it personally. All of you are welcome to come run errands with me. All of you are welcome to keep me company while I pack. And all of you are welcome to help me move my shit into Erin's' garage (pizza and beer provided).
You are all wonderful and beautiful people.
Best Wishes,
Tim
Tuesday, June 12, 2018
Sometimes you're the windshield...
...and sometimes you're the bug.
So I've been kinda quiet. I ended that last blog on a good note, that's the reason it was so short. The BS since then, oh man. I didn't want to bombard you with post after post of setback after setback. So here's one long post. Remeber, shipwrecks serve as a warning for others kids.
I got all my paperwork into the consulate. They did not like my FBI background check. The consulate wanted my FBI background check, which had already been authenticated through the US State Department, to be authenticated from the state of Arizona. The good folks at the Office of the Secretary of State for Arizona would not touch it. So I used my background check from the Tempe Police department. Somehow that one was better than the one from the FBI. Fine, whatever.
Scan all the documents and send them to my sponsors in China. At this point, if everything goes as planned I should have my visa in hand with 4 days to spare before my May 29th departure date. I didn't hear from my sponsor in China for almost a week after I turned my paperwork in. She was on vacation and I only had her e-mail. Fine, I can still pay an arm and a leg for rush visa service.
There's a problem, there's a document that I need to fill out that I had no idea about. Half in Chinese and half in English. Fine, I fill out the English part and send it back. Next day they let me know I also have to fill out the part in Chinese. Fine, fill it out and send it back. Then, apparently, the FEB, the outfit that reviews all this shit in China, wants me to ask a notary to do something really uncomfortable for them. They want a notary to add the sentence to my already authenticated document copies that the original document is an authentic and genuine original. I go to three notaries, and all of them say the same thing. That's not their job and they don't want to get "Pained and Gained". I also posted for help on Facebook and a friend commented: "Trying to Pain and Gain someone?". I had no idea what any of these yaywhos were talking about so I rented the movie "Pain and Gain."
"Pain and Gain" is a movie about real events that happened in Miami in the 90s. In the movie, a group of bodybuilders kidnaps a rich guy and gets him to sign documents turning over his assets to the bodybuilders. The part we're concerned about is after the fact, the bodybuilders bribe a notary to notarize the signed documents and the notary gets in a lot of trouble, 15 years in prison. Aside now aside, let's move on.
At this point, the May 29th departure date is a friggin dream. Not gonna happen.
I ask my sponsor for an example of what they want. She sends me a picture of a "notary" from Delaware, where everything is handwritten, and there's no notary stamp. I show this example to some notaries I had been dealing with at a local bank and they both agree, it looks janky as fuck. Delaware definitely has a stamp, anyone could have written that, and it's probably not legit.
So now I have the words "and the original is an authentic and genuine document" handwritten on all my authenticated copies. Weird how I was able to get that done after having so much trouble.
Now for the plane ticket. I call the peeps and they tell me I can transfer the ticket and pay the difference, I cannot get a refund. I tell them I don't have a date and could I just get like, store credit. No dice. So I hope and pray. I pester my sponsor for some kind of date, any kind. She says that it's not a good idea. She's done dozens of these and she's never had this much trouble getting someone their work permit. We should just wait till the work permit is done. No telling what else could go wrong!
May 30th, "Great news! Your work permit went through! I'm sending you paperwork to print and send to the consulate for your Visa! Go ahead and buy a ticket. Preferably before the 29th of June but after the 23rd. So excited to work with you!"
Now, the more astute among you will have noticed something. May 30th is in fact after May 29th. What happened with that first ticket you ask? Let's just say, normally when I eat $560, I have food for a couple months.
The past is now the past. I have a plane ticket for the 25th of June and my Z visa in my passport. I have a place to store my stuff (Thanks Erin) and a buyer for my motorcycle (Thanks dude from Alabama, I forget your name right now) and someone to take care of the car (Thanks Ruffentines!)
So I'm going, finally. I remember my sponsor telling me that you could get all the paperwork done in two months. That is a lie. Either that or you're rich and just bribe everyone. I was one more setback away from just bald face asking my sponsor who to bribe. Luckily I didn't have to do that.
So I love you all. I will be posting occasionally, stay classy.
So I've been kinda quiet. I ended that last blog on a good note, that's the reason it was so short. The BS since then, oh man. I didn't want to bombard you with post after post of setback after setback. So here's one long post. Remeber, shipwrecks serve as a warning for others kids.
I got all my paperwork into the consulate. They did not like my FBI background check. The consulate wanted my FBI background check, which had already been authenticated through the US State Department, to be authenticated from the state of Arizona. The good folks at the Office of the Secretary of State for Arizona would not touch it. So I used my background check from the Tempe Police department. Somehow that one was better than the one from the FBI. Fine, whatever.
Scan all the documents and send them to my sponsors in China. At this point, if everything goes as planned I should have my visa in hand with 4 days to spare before my May 29th departure date. I didn't hear from my sponsor in China for almost a week after I turned my paperwork in. She was on vacation and I only had her e-mail. Fine, I can still pay an arm and a leg for rush visa service.
There's a problem, there's a document that I need to fill out that I had no idea about. Half in Chinese and half in English. Fine, I fill out the English part and send it back. Next day they let me know I also have to fill out the part in Chinese. Fine, fill it out and send it back. Then, apparently, the FEB, the outfit that reviews all this shit in China, wants me to ask a notary to do something really uncomfortable for them. They want a notary to add the sentence to my already authenticated document copies that the original document is an authentic and genuine original. I go to three notaries, and all of them say the same thing. That's not their job and they don't want to get "Pained and Gained". I also posted for help on Facebook and a friend commented: "Trying to Pain and Gain someone?". I had no idea what any of these yaywhos were talking about so I rented the movie "Pain and Gain."
"Pain and Gain" is a movie about real events that happened in Miami in the 90s. In the movie, a group of bodybuilders kidnaps a rich guy and gets him to sign documents turning over his assets to the bodybuilders. The part we're concerned about is after the fact, the bodybuilders bribe a notary to notarize the signed documents and the notary gets in a lot of trouble, 15 years in prison. Aside now aside, let's move on.
At this point, the May 29th departure date is a friggin dream. Not gonna happen.
I ask my sponsor for an example of what they want. She sends me a picture of a "notary" from Delaware, where everything is handwritten, and there's no notary stamp. I show this example to some notaries I had been dealing with at a local bank and they both agree, it looks janky as fuck. Delaware definitely has a stamp, anyone could have written that, and it's probably not legit.
So now I have the words "and the original is an authentic and genuine document" handwritten on all my authenticated copies. Weird how I was able to get that done after having so much trouble.
Now for the plane ticket. I call the peeps and they tell me I can transfer the ticket and pay the difference, I cannot get a refund. I tell them I don't have a date and could I just get like, store credit. No dice. So I hope and pray. I pester my sponsor for some kind of date, any kind. She says that it's not a good idea. She's done dozens of these and she's never had this much trouble getting someone their work permit. We should just wait till the work permit is done. No telling what else could go wrong!
May 30th, "Great news! Your work permit went through! I'm sending you paperwork to print and send to the consulate for your Visa! Go ahead and buy a ticket. Preferably before the 29th of June but after the 23rd. So excited to work with you!"
Now, the more astute among you will have noticed something. May 30th is in fact after May 29th. What happened with that first ticket you ask? Let's just say, normally when I eat $560, I have food for a couple months.
The past is now the past. I have a plane ticket for the 25th of June and my Z visa in my passport. I have a place to store my stuff (Thanks Erin) and a buyer for my motorcycle (Thanks dude from Alabama, I forget your name right now) and someone to take care of the car (Thanks Ruffentines!)
So I'm going, finally. I remember my sponsor telling me that you could get all the paperwork done in two months. That is a lie. Either that or you're rich and just bribe everyone. I was one more setback away from just bald face asking my sponsor who to bribe. Luckily I didn't have to do that.
So I love you all. I will be posting occasionally, stay classy.
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
Passport Smashport
Where were we?
I'm at the Western Passport Center. I'm being informed that I indeed have enough time to get a standard expedited passport and have a few days to spare.
Now, I believe I have demonstrated through this body of text that I do indeed have the capacity to fuck up, despite my surecockedness about how awesome I am. At this point, I've figured this out. I tell the man behind the bulletproof glass that I would like a little more wiggle room than that. He says that he has people here that are leaving the country in 3 days, why should he clog up the system with one that can potentially wait.
At this point, I'm getting pretty sick and tired of people telling me they won't do something. I tell him the truth, "Look, man, I think I got everything figured out, but I've thought that before and been wrong. You know and I know that things often don't go as planned and often times there's hitches and hiccups. I can't be doing this last minute. I've had a hell of a week, and I just need a win man. Things have just been falling apart, and I'm to blame for some of that, but you can help make my week better. I need this win. Just help me out, please."
He takes all my papers, straightens them all out, and says, "You'll have your passport by Saturday." Speach Skill level up!
"AT MY HOME!?" He looks at me a little sideways, "Yes, in your very own mailbox, so is that check or card?"
"Cash, I don't have a card that works right now."
He looks at me, "Guess you have had a rough week."
If it wasn't for the 1.5 inches of bulletproof glass between us I would have kissed that man. As it was I left there with hope. The 2008 presidential campaign had nothing on this feeling. I knew I wasn't out of the woods yet, but at least I had fire.
I'm at the Western Passport Center. I'm being informed that I indeed have enough time to get a standard expedited passport and have a few days to spare.
Now, I believe I have demonstrated through this body of text that I do indeed have the capacity to fuck up, despite my surecockedness about how awesome I am. At this point, I've figured this out. I tell the man behind the bulletproof glass that I would like a little more wiggle room than that. He says that he has people here that are leaving the country in 3 days, why should he clog up the system with one that can potentially wait.
At this point, I'm getting pretty sick and tired of people telling me they won't do something. I tell him the truth, "Look, man, I think I got everything figured out, but I've thought that before and been wrong. You know and I know that things often don't go as planned and often times there's hitches and hiccups. I can't be doing this last minute. I've had a hell of a week, and I just need a win man. Things have just been falling apart, and I'm to blame for some of that, but you can help make my week better. I need this win. Just help me out, please."
He takes all my papers, straightens them all out, and says, "You'll have your passport by Saturday." Speach Skill level up!
"AT MY HOME!?" He looks at me a little sideways, "Yes, in your very own mailbox, so is that check or card?"
"Cash, I don't have a card that works right now."
He looks at me, "Guess you have had a rough week."
If it wasn't for the 1.5 inches of bulletproof glass between us I would have kissed that man. As it was I left there with hope. The 2008 presidential campaign had nothing on this feeling. I knew I wasn't out of the woods yet, but at least I had fire.
Sunday, May 6, 2018
Resolve
In my teenage years and twenties, I always thought that if you were supposed to be doing something then it would come easy. Doors would just open for you. You wouldn't have to go up to the door, find it locked, wiggle the handle only to have the handle come off, get a bunch of tools to fix it then end up kicking it down anyway. As soon as I started encountering resistance to something I was trying to accomplish I would say, "That's okay, there's something else I can be doing." and just walk away.
Then I realized something. I hated where I was. I didn't know how I'd gotten there and I for damn sure didn't know how to get out. Depression set in, heavy drinking started. Nights spent sobbing.
It wasn't until I surrendered myself completely that an answer came. I remember the night. Sitting on the stairs inside my house soaking wet because I had walked home from the bar in the rain. Head in my hands.
That night the question changed. I had been asking myself for months, "What am I going to do?" Now, I asked, "What am I supposed to do?" The answer flashed across my brain like a bolt of lightning, a thought that wasn't my own. "You've always wanted to fly." I purchased a Groupon that night. My life was forever changed.
From that moment on, no matter what resistance I faced, no matter who or what stood in my way, I was going to accomplish my goals. I have been tested, and I have sacrificed. I haven't always won. Resolve was the name of the game.
Sorry, that was a long intro.
So the school in China didn't like the FBI background check. I asked them about a local clearance from Tempe. Had to be state level they informed me. I stewed on it for a day while I waited. Finally, I told the school in China that the FBI background was just going to have to do. They finally agreed.
So now it was a game of hurry up and wait. Get the FBI background check back and sent it that day to the US State Department to get authenticated, which in and of itself was an ordeal. Go to the Post Office on tax day and pack up two envelopes so they can mail it back. Bring in the wrong document to mail and have to get back in line. You know, the usual stuff.
All mailed and tracked, now comes the waiting part. In the meantime, I better do life stuff like wash my clothes with my passport in the pocket. Then not notice and dry the passport too...
Apparently, if you get passports wet the back cover starts to peel in half. You'd think they'd be more durable, and easier to glue. I went to Wal-Mart and bought the highest quality glue sticks I could get my hands on which worked great, for 2 days. Then as soon as I bent the passport the glue cracked and it started to peel again. Time to do what I do best, research random shit.
Let me tell you about the world of adhesives. Oh boy. You got the non-reactives, which are further divided into drying, pressure-sensitive, contact, and hot; and I'll tell you that reading some of these articles the topic of adhesives gets some people hot around the collar, lemmetellyaboyeee. The reactives don't have as many. Multi-part, pre-mixed and frozen, and one part. Guys, did you know you can glue two cars together with the right mix. YOU CAN REPAIR AIRPLANES WITH GLUE AND THEY DO! Think about that next time you get on that flight to Cabo. Don't even get me started on the preparations of surfaces, that's where the resin meets the reactant.
I go in for round two, this time armed with knowledge. And this time it works. One problem, it still looks like it's been run through a washing machine, and is a little crunchy when you bend it. Everything sticks together, but let us get real, do I want to risk it?
So now, a drive to Tucson is in order. To go to the western passport center. It's been a shitty week, and now I have more bureaucracy to deal with. Let's hope this story has a happy ending.
Then I realized something. I hated where I was. I didn't know how I'd gotten there and I for damn sure didn't know how to get out. Depression set in, heavy drinking started. Nights spent sobbing.
It wasn't until I surrendered myself completely that an answer came. I remember the night. Sitting on the stairs inside my house soaking wet because I had walked home from the bar in the rain. Head in my hands.
That night the question changed. I had been asking myself for months, "What am I going to do?" Now, I asked, "What am I supposed to do?" The answer flashed across my brain like a bolt of lightning, a thought that wasn't my own. "You've always wanted to fly." I purchased a Groupon that night. My life was forever changed.
From that moment on, no matter what resistance I faced, no matter who or what stood in my way, I was going to accomplish my goals. I have been tested, and I have sacrificed. I haven't always won. Resolve was the name of the game.
Sorry, that was a long intro.
So the school in China didn't like the FBI background check. I asked them about a local clearance from Tempe. Had to be state level they informed me. I stewed on it for a day while I waited. Finally, I told the school in China that the FBI background was just going to have to do. They finally agreed.
So now it was a game of hurry up and wait. Get the FBI background check back and sent it that day to the US State Department to get authenticated, which in and of itself was an ordeal. Go to the Post Office on tax day and pack up two envelopes so they can mail it back. Bring in the wrong document to mail and have to get back in line. You know, the usual stuff.
All mailed and tracked, now comes the waiting part. In the meantime, I better do life stuff like wash my clothes with my passport in the pocket. Then not notice and dry the passport too...
Apparently, if you get passports wet the back cover starts to peel in half. You'd think they'd be more durable, and easier to glue. I went to Wal-Mart and bought the highest quality glue sticks I could get my hands on which worked great, for 2 days. Then as soon as I bent the passport the glue cracked and it started to peel again. Time to do what I do best, research random shit.
Let me tell you about the world of adhesives. Oh boy. You got the non-reactives, which are further divided into drying, pressure-sensitive, contact, and hot; and I'll tell you that reading some of these articles the topic of adhesives gets some people hot around the collar, lemmetellyaboyeee. The reactives don't have as many. Multi-part, pre-mixed and frozen, and one part. Guys, did you know you can glue two cars together with the right mix. YOU CAN REPAIR AIRPLANES WITH GLUE AND THEY DO! Think about that next time you get on that flight to Cabo. Don't even get me started on the preparations of surfaces, that's where the resin meets the reactant.
I go in for round two, this time armed with knowledge. And this time it works. One problem, it still looks like it's been run through a washing machine, and is a little crunchy when you bend it. Everything sticks together, but let us get real, do I want to risk it?
So now, a drive to Tucson is in order. To go to the western passport center. It's been a shitty week, and now I have more bureaucracy to deal with. Let's hope this story has a happy ending.
Friday, April 27, 2018
Assuming, it killed the cat.
What would you say your biggest weakness is? It's a common job interview question. "Oh jeeze, I just work too darn hard sometimes teehee."
Welp, there's no two ways about it, looks like I'm going to have to get the one from the FBI. That's sure to work. It's from the highest law enforcement agency in the country! So a little research and find a company that will scan my fingerprints and send them to the FBI, superfast! I go to the place and pay the thing and take a deep breath and relax.
Two hours later I get an e-mail from my contract at the school in China. She tells me to not even bother getting FBI background check, seeing as the province she's in won't accept it.
At this point, I start checking my closets for Ashton Kutcher because now I know I'm being Punk'd.
I've figured mine out. I assume I know more than I do, and I'm usually pretty confident about that knowledge. It bites me in the ass and this time it bit me hard.
Here's another trait of mine, I try to deal with government agencies and representatives as little as possible. I'll pay good money to have somebody else deal with them. I feel this is a pretty common sentiment. So when it came to doing a background check I decided to find a Federal Credit Reporting Agency accredited background check company. A private company.
So when the state wouldn't authenticate the document I was flabbergasted. The main reason they gave me was that the document had federal information on it and they could not verify the results of federal stuff. They recommended I go walk into any police station to obtain a background check. So I did, they sent me to the Arizona Department of Public Safety (DPS). Here I would receive the thing I had been seeking, a state level background check, from officials at the state.
At the DPS the lady behind the bulletproof glass was very helpful. She got me a number for the fingerprinting unit and let them know I was here to see them. After about a two minute wait they called me into a small room with fancy machines.
Now, anyone here a CSI fan? Then you'll have a good picture in your head of who greeted me. She looked like a stereotypical supporting forensic investigator in a CSI type show. "The fingerprint lady". Like they really need to cast her. She had bobby cut pink hair. Pink glasses frames that match her hair. Several facial piercings but not overdone. A wrist tattoo, but you know she has more covered up. Clothing that was juuusssst professional enough. If the description seems very detailed that's because I literally couldn't believe my eyes. I kept expecting her to start spouting off random facts about fingerprints. "Did you know Koalas have fingerprints too?"
Anyway, we get to talking and I volunteer the information that I was using this to get a visa. CSI Pheonix told me that that was going to be a problem. You see, in the state of Arizona the fingerprints and background check provided by the DPS cannot be used for the purposes of employment, adoption, immigration, or obtaining a visa. It's a class 4 felony and you can go to jail. I thought she must not be serious but she showed me the official paper stating as such. I could, however, get a piece of paper notarized stating that I can't get a background check.
Anyway, we get to talking and I volunteer the information that I was using this to get a visa. CSI Pheonix told me that that was going to be a problem. You see, in the state of Arizona the fingerprints and background check provided by the DPS cannot be used for the purposes of employment, adoption, immigration, or obtaining a visa. It's a class 4 felony and you can go to jail. I thought she must not be serious but she showed me the official paper stating as such. I could, however, get a piece of paper notarized stating that I can't get a background check.
Welp, there's no two ways about it, looks like I'm going to have to get the one from the FBI. That's sure to work. It's from the highest law enforcement agency in the country! So a little research and find a company that will scan my fingerprints and send them to the FBI, superfast! I go to the place and pay the thing and take a deep breath and relax.
Two hours later I get an e-mail from my contract at the school in China. She tells me to not even bother getting FBI background check, seeing as the province she's in won't accept it.
At this point, I start checking my closets for Ashton Kutcher because now I know I'm being Punk'd.
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