Admitted Weekend: Day 3/4

The school sponsored activities have come to an end, and so Kathy and I used our two remaining days in Barcelona to enjoy the city and try to get some stuff done!

We slept in luxuriously late on Sunday morning, and then had a nice, long, luxurious lunch at a Catalan restaurant somewhere in the heart of Eixample. We wandered around some more, came back to the hotel for another nap, didn't get much of anything done, except dropping off my suitcase at Desiree's apartment to store, and then headed out for drinks and dinner with two of our new classmates, James & Jonno. We met them for drinks first at the rooftop bar of James' hotel:

We then walked to dinner around 10:30 at a DELICIOUS restaurant, the name of which escapes me at the moment. It was something like Bistro Catalunya...I'll have to ask Kathy. We had all kinds of delicious tapas, with my favorite being the deep fried bacon wrapped dates with goat cheese and the super garlicky patatas bravas. YUM. I'm gonna get fat here.

We ended up wandering the streets until almost two in the morning and having a great time. We called it an early night, as we had a busy agenda for Monday.

We got up early on Monday morning to try and make it to the banks before they close which, in this country, seems to be anywhere between 11 and 2. Jonno and I had breakfast at a sidewalk cafe in the business district while Kathy walked over to Citibank. After her lack of success there, we went over to 'La Caixa', one of the most commonly seen banks on the streets of Barcelona, to try our luck there.

The bank trip was probably one of the highlights of the trip for me, as I was pretty amazed with my ability to converse with the bank lady in Spanish and succesfully got myself and Jonno set up with Spanish bank accounts! 45 minutes of pure Spanish conversation. True, there was about 20% that was completley lost on me, but we understood each other more or less and the woman spoke absolutely no English. I was pretty proud of myself. Kathy didn't set up an account as they told her that being a EU citizen it made a lot more sense for her to wait until she had her NIE.

So, off we went to try and get the NIE. While we were unsuccessful overall, we did locate the Police station where we go to get the NIE, and we completed the first meeting of submitting her form and getting it stamped. The step where we failed was in going to a bank to pay the 10 euro tax. The bank we walked in to would only let us pay via the bancomat, and the 50 euro I had placed into my account had not yet gone through, so there was no way to physically pay the tax. But, we now know what we need to do, so when we come back to do it in August, everything should go much more smoothly.

After our NIE adventures, it was time for me to meet with the Born Living agent to look at the 4 bedroom apartment I had found online. I was actually quite impressed at the brightness and the size, and I took a video, which kinda sucks, but that I intend to show Alexa and potentially use to find future roommates:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QlM-WVN4jo

Then, once again, a nap, a snack (did I mention our schedule? 2-3 hours of sleep every 12 hours, interspersed with meals every 3-4 hours. yeah, healthy) We then walked over to Kathy's future apartment, which I have to say is also quite nice, and very close to our place. We sat and had coffee with the leasing agent and felt VERY European. We walked around Eixample to try and get to know the neighborhood, and had some more tapas and beers before settling down for dinner at a surprisingly good Thai restaurant.

All in all, a great, productive, and fun weekend. Yes, flying across the world for 4 days and constant jetlag sucks, but overall, it was worth it. Can't wait for the next 2 years of my life!

Admitted Weekend: Day 2

With sleeping every 12 hours for 2-3 hours, days feel 3 times as long as they actually are. Today has been such an action packed day, its hard to believe all of today happened TODAY!

We started off the day with breakfast at school that consisted of tons of tiny meat and cheese sandwiches. Once again, welcome to Spain. Pretty tasty but man, I'm not a fan of eating every meal standing up! More awkward mingling with a good third of the attendees mildly hung over or, in my case, still asleep. They then ushered us in to the auditorium for more lectures about how amazing and challenging the next two years of our lives would be. I thought most of it was generally a waste of time, until the Student panel. The current students put together a video of their favorite memories (to the tune of David Guetta's memories, which will now permanently in my head be associated with my first IESE experience), and then answered any and all questions anyone could possibly think to ask. We then had lunch (standing up, once again) and headed out for our bus tour of Barcelona.

This city is so beautiful!!! I don't remmeber what's what since I was basically comatose at this point, from lack of sleep and hot sun, but here are some not very good pictures of the amazing city:

We then, once again, went to eat, and then the girls went to get their hair done while I went back to the hotel to pass out. The view from our hotel:

That night Alex, the girl who I'd e-mailed to death with visa questions, and her friend Marisa and Floriane invited us out to dinner with them, and then to a party themed "Seven Daily Sins". We went out to a sushi restaurant that was surprisingly good, alleviating my fears that I'd be pitifully deprived of my sushi obsession during my two years in Barcelona. Our lovely escorts for the evening:

The party was great, met even more people. Turns out my recounting what I'm planning on doing with my summer makes for easy conversation, even though I do sometimes feel like I'm bragging, even though I really don't mean to be. I'm no good at making conversation with strangers and talking about traveling comes naturally to the group we're gonna be with for the next two years. We ended up getting kicked out of the party by cops at 3am for being too noisy (hey, at least it wasn't a midnight!), and so we took the party to the street outside instead:

Finally, they told us we HAD TO MOVE, so the girls took us to a club the name of which I don't remember. Not that it really mattered because they tried to make us pay to come in, so we left and ended up at the only place we could get food at 4am - some random 24hr a day convenience store. We bought bread, salami, and cheese...When in Rome (or, Barcelona in this case). Its odd, really, that in a city that parties until 6 in the morning there aren't more late night places to eat open. All for the best though - I'll be getting fat enough as is.
Stephanie then went home at 4:30 as she had a 6:30am flight to catch - what a trooper! Kathy and I headed back to our hotel, exhausted. Still not sure how we made it there...

As I was trying to fall asleep around 5am, some dude in the street below busted out in a lengthy rendition of "Sugar, Sugar, Honey Honey"...thank you, Barcelona, for the lullaby!

View from our hotel at night:

Admitted Weekend: Day 1

So, my intention was to write after each day of the trip about my experiences and impressions, but yeah right. That never happens. So here I am on the final leg of my trip, my flight from Philadelphia to San Diego, with 19% battery power remaining, about to write abuot what was a weekend of lots of talking, beers and excitement and VERY little sleep.

Thanks to my week of insomnia that resulted from the move and stress of the prospect of the trip, I took Restoril the night before my flight and was therefore still 90% groggy for my flight to Philadelphia. Once at the PHL airport, I fully woke up only to discover that this is the only airport in my experience in the US with neither a Starbucks nor wifi! ( I discovered on my trip home that there is wifi, just not in the international terminal. But no Starbucks? Really?) After a greasy pizza and a severely overpriced latte with whole milk, I settled down to watch more Sopranos. I was "stuck" in an exit row on my flight. I say "stuck" because its not actaully better than other seats. Yes, you get a little more leg room, but that matters little for my 5'1 frame. What you don't get is a normal table or space in front of you to store your bag cuz everything has to be in the overhead compartment. Needless to say it was a VERY long flight. What was even longer, however, was the hour I spent sitting on the train in the Barcelona airport waiting to ride into the city. The train was full. It was ready to go. And it just sat there. Every 10-15 minutes, the doors would close, the exhausted passengers would start applauding, the train would beep....and then the doors would open again, and disappointed sighs would be heard up and down the cars. Since my body was thinking it was 1am at this point, and my last week had been anything but restful, I'm pretty sure the pain on my face made the other passengers around me think I was going into labor. I'm really bad at hiding my discomfort.

When we finally got into the Sants station, I took a Metro to Hospital Clinic. Despite the annoyed and disapproving looks I got at the stations, I dragged my ridiculously oversized duffel bag up and down many flights of stairs. Fuck off. I don't care if it makes an annoying banging sound. I'm not picking it up. I ended up taking a cab from the Metro stop because no way was my 3am jet lagged ass about to navigate a map at this point. I checked into the hotel without incident and was asleep by 2pm local time. Kathy never made it back to the room to get ready for the evening's activities, so I took a cab to IESE on my own.

It started raining on the drive over, and I was struck by the humor of the fact that in a city that has 300 sunny days a year, each time I happen to visit campus, it rains. I checked in upstairs and then awkwardly made conversation with some students standing around. I wouldn't say any of my small-talk making attempts went particularly well this weekend. I did end up meeting quite a few people, but I can only take credit for about 20% of the connections I made, and those are weak at best. There was a presentation put on by a member of the  faculty, about how we would grow and what we would get out of the program and how hard we would work and the amazing friendships we would forge...Then it was accross the street for what they referred to as a "stand up dinner". No guys. Its called drinks and pass-around appetizers. Not dinner. 

Further evidence for the lack of "dinner" was the fact that on the walk down from school, everyone made plans where to meet up for dinner. Stephanie, Kathy and I went back to our hotels to "freshen up", and then met with Cory from London, who could easily be mistaken for Eric from Gossip Girl. We went to a very traditional tapas place and picked up two stragglers along the way, a french guy named Julien and a local Barcelonian named Miguel. True to American tourist status, we were loud, boisterous, and obnoxious and the owners repeatedly asked us to keep it down. 

After dinner, we went to the BOW (Bar of the Week) party organized by the current students at a bar called Universal. Lots of networking, lots of meeting people, a little bit of drinking, a little bit of dancing, and had to call it an early night and go home at 3am due to sheer, utter exhaustion.  

Consulate Visit #2 of 3 (hopefully!)

The visa complications never end. In part of my delightful conversation with the overweight blond man at the Spanish consulate, he informed me that my visa was only good for 90 days. So, if it is effective June 21^st, obtaining my NIE in time, before the visa runs out, would pose to be quite a challenge with the 5000 things I’ll likely have going on at the time. I e-mailed the school to see if I could take care of any of the NIE business during admitted weekend, but all I was told was that “This information will be available shortly”. How very Spanish…

So, via a series of back and forth e-mails with the barrier between us being more than just language, I was able to obtain from them the confirmation that, if I provided updated travel reservations, I could have my visa date changed to August 24^th. Hallelujah.

I also sent them my proof of request of FBI certificate, but they apparently insist that I actually have the FBI report itself, which the guy didn’t make all that clear when I was there in person. So clearly, to get any straight answers or straight confirmation, I was gonna have to drive my ass back up to 5055 Wilshire Blvd.

So, with time being of the essence and my presence at work not being vital, to put it lightly, off I go back to the Spanish consulate on a Tuesday morning. They accepted all my papers, although they found it necessary to point out to me that I provided some of them twice. I was excessive, I will admit, but with the bureaucratic hoops I’ve been jumping through lately, I think too much is better than not enough.

The rude blond man behind the desk assured me that my visa dates had been changed. He then spoke to me once again like I was a regular rider of the short bus and tried to make it abundantly clear to me that I would not receive my visa until I provided them with the FBI report in person. Yes yes I got it.

 And, to add to the excitement of it all, it dawned on me today that, by the time the FBI actually runs my credit card, the debit card number I sent them will be expired. Of course. So, I called the FBI Criminal Records Division, and to my utter dismay, they actually had record of my submission. Furthermore, the man I spoke to was actually helpful. He gave me a contact in the processing unit who I could fax directly with the updated credit card information. Crossing my fingers…

Hello, Spanish Consulate!

Today was my first appointment at the Spanish consulate. I have a feeling it will be the first of many. Being terrified of missing my appointment from the threatning e-mails I recieved from them detailing all the circumstances under which my appointment would be cancelled, I made sure to show up early. My appointment was at 10:40, and I was parked outside the consulate by 10:15. Its located close to Hancock Park, but not in Hancock Park. Its on the ghetto side, but not scary. There's your friendly neighborhood Starbucks just accross the street. I managed to find parking on the side street, even though the entire neighborhood is 1 hour parking and in the time I spent at the consulate, I moved my car twice. Not much of a surprise there. Antoher unsurprisng fact was that they were running about an hour behind. When you walk in to the consulate, you do not get the impression that you are entering a governmental agency. Spanish soap operas are playing on two screens, one mounted flat screen on one wall and one ghetto old school tube TV on a rolling shelf, reminiscent of movies watched in 8th grade. There are a couple of couches and some tables - clearly, this area was designed for long periods of waiting. When I walked in, a young man ina suit was arguing with an employee of the consulate who was sitting at I guess is the check-in table. He didn't have an appointment and was trying to convince her to let him through anyway. He shoudl have just lied...they really didn't check. He argued with her for a solid 20 minutes, explaining to her that he needed to meet this week adn that there were no appointment available until June 6th. Buddy, no matter how many times or in how many languages you tell yoru story, the woman's not gonna officially change her mind. Just show up.

The girl with an appointment right before me apparently misunderstood what "one way ticket" referred to in the requirements for the visa. She broguth her flight from Spain back to the US. It took the check-in woman a solid 10 minutes to explain to her that you need your flight TO Spain, and not from, for the visa, so taht they know when to make yoru visa effective date. Wow. Some people.

I thought I was in the clear because the check-in woman reviewed all of my documents and said I was good to go. I guess she didn't actualy study what document i was that I handed her with the Apostille. The guy at the visa window, however, who looked wearily bored and over his job (suck it up buddy. You work 8-12 with a bunch of people excited to travel to your country) had clearly done this before. He looked at my apostilled document, squinted his eyes, and said to me suspiciously "Did you try to pull this last year?" Oy vei...Right, cuz if I knew what a nightmare this process would be, I would, two years in a row, wait until the last minute and try to get away with something that never worked in the first place. He basically talked to me like I rode the short bus to school and responded to every innocent question, asked with a smile, as if I was a little old lady asking him for the 100th time how to turn on the microwave. Our encounter concluded with him telling me I needed proof that I'd sent away for the FBI report and that then the FBI application would be accepted, and that I had until May 28th to do so. Easy enough...Additionaly, though, once I recieve the visa, its only good for 90 days. I worked it out, and that means that my visa will expire September 20th. Which means, I only have until September 20th to get my NIE. According to the school, this is a long and painful process and you need to leave yourself plenty of time to get this done, so I need to somehow figure out how to get the NIE done when I'm there at the end of June. Just one more obstacle..

I then waited for another hour, until 12:45 to recieve my "confirmation number". I complain, but there was a dude in line ahead of me that had driven in from Phoenix just to get his visa. Why the hoops, Espana, why?

The chase continues...

So, my visa plan consisted of the following:

1. Take my local PD "Good Conduct Letter", which has already been notarized, to the Regional Office of the Secretary of State in Los Angeles, and obtain the Apostille of the Hague on May 7th.

2. Go to my appointment at the Spanish Consulate on May 14th.

3. Feign ignorance about the requirement to have the certificate issued by the FBI.

4. Hope for the best...

My plan has been foiled. Despite the fact that the website explicitly states that the Secretary of State issues Apostille for documents notarized in the State of California, they, in fact, did not. Becuase my certificate was issued by the San Diego Sherrif's department, that official, despite the notary, is not in the correct hierarchy or something to be authenticated by the Secretary of State. It first needs to be authenticated by the County, and only THEN can it be apostilled by the State. So, for future reference of anyone that ever reads this blog.

1. Get the document notarized. You basically sign a document saying the certificate is authenticate, and they staple a notarization.
2. Then you take hte document with the notarizaiton to your COUNTY, and get the notary autheticated.
3. THEN take the document, the notary, and the authentication of the notary by the county to the Secretary of State office in LA where you SHOULD be able to get the Apostille...

Since I now have to take Thursday afternoon off of work to go back to the Apostille, now that I've spent my Friday on the 5 driving to Norwalk and exploring the county office, I will only find out the day before my appointment if I can actually get the Apostille...

None of this is even gonna work, though, since the stupid FBI certificate is gonna arrive on the 5th of never. Really, I'm brimming with optimism.

You win some, you lose some

Trying to obtain my "Absence of Criminal Records" Certificate incites so much rage in me I might in fact end up with a criminal record! This week so far, and its only Wednesday afternoon, has been a series of losses and victories. First, the losses:

1. It has been 11 days since my LiveScan submission, and I was supposed to receive the results in 7. Luckily the CA DOJ provides an automated hotline where you can call, enter your ATI number (that appears on the bottom of your submission) and find out the status! Unfortunately, there is no record of me in their system. So, I call the number provided on their website, a number specifically given out if "The automated response system has no record of your submission". A woman at the DOJ picks up the phone, refuses to listen to me, tells me she can't help me, can't give me the information, yells it a couple more times, and hangs up on me. A series of phone calls later, I find myself driving up the 67 freeway to El Cajon to the main office of the LiveScan agency I submitted my finger prints through. This "main office" is a counter at a car wash. The man was very nice, but in the end, completely useless. He did do a re-submission for free, but was no help with finding out my status. I tried my luck on Tuesday as well, with the same results.

2. Alex Dickerson, a current student at IESE that went through her own nightmarish visa story, gave me a phone number and an e-mail address for the FBI Criminal Records Division. Apparently a nice man named Gary got her her stuff in a matter of days (as opposed to the 13 weeks) after she gave them her sob story. I called the number and the very nice lady sweetly informed me that there was no way to expedite, and that they were more bogged down than ever because all of the 2010 Census workers need to be fingerprinted.

3. I then e-mail this Gary gentleman my sob story, and offered to resubmit all my documents to him. As of Wednesday afternoon, I had not heard back.

So, 3 defeats for Kate. 

But, there were some victories!

1. Apparently, the US Department of State: Bureau of Consular Affairs is a lot more tech-savvy than the California DOJ. They have a status check on their website where, with simply your DOB, last name, and last 4 digits of your SSN, you can find out what's happening to your application! Mine, apparently, is in the final processing stages and will be mailed to me on Friday! Woohoo!!

2. After what will simply be referred to as "the closet incident", and a couple of days to calm down, I once again called the bitch @ the DOJ who hung up on me. She once again told me she couldn't help me that I had to check with my employer and that since I was OBVIOUSLY applying for a job, she couldn't help me. Right before she was about to hang up again, I cut her off in time to tell her "I AM NOT APPLYING FOR A JOB! THIS IS FOR A VISA!" She fell silent. Then in a soft voice said "Oh, Ok. I"ll transfer you". I then talked to a very nice gentleman who told me my submission had been received yesterday (guess that first one was a lost cause) and that it had already gone out in the mail to my home address. Wooohooo!!

3. Finally, after many fruitless attempts with other incompetent individuals, I got into contact with Mr. Joe Ewing, Notary Public. Mr. Ewing, apparently, has done this, and more than once. He knew all the steps for getting an international document apostillized, and would be able to do it all, down to picking up the document from my mom's house, and taking it back. He also informed me that there were 3 steps for apostillizing FBI records for international use:
1. COPY CERTIFICATION BY DOCUMENT CUSTODIAN AFFIDAVIT. This needs to be notarized and submitted with the document. I'm not sure why, as its the original that must be notarized, but whatever.
2. This affidavit then must be authenticated.
3. This authentication is then overnight-ed to the Secretary of State in Sacramento, where it finally gets it's apostille.

I'll obviously follow up wtih him more, just to understand the steps, but this all sounds good. I'm assuming he'll charge a hefty but if he can get it done, with no stress on my mom, its allll worth it. Hi, new best friend!

We'll call that 2.5 victories. Mr. Ewing could still turn out to be shady.