The girls and I just sat around and talked for a while about everything under the sun. We started planning places we wanted to go. Drinking wine and deciding which foreign country to go to first...is this real life? We talked about American culture and politics and it was really interesting to get a foreign perspective on the way Americans live. It makes you re-evaluate the way we live, the way we strive only to be the best, sacrificing everything to be the best. We talked about war and politics and school shootings. It was kind of nice to just talk and think about real things that effect us all. Its amazing how some things are universal, like music, but somethings are so different. I described my korean professor to Laura as being 4'11 and 100 pounds and that meant nothing, because Australia (and the rest of world) don't think in inches and pounds but rather meters and grams.
This morning I woke up to go to my 10 am class...which turns out was actually at 9 am. Major fail. Woops. So instead I hopped on the bus and headed into town to go to the immigration office. After waiting in line for 40 mins to get a number, I sat and waited for 5 hours for the 76 people ahead of me to go. Let me tell you, the Garda National Immigration Bureau is not an enjoyable place. I understand now why so many people in the US don't register with immigration. What a pain in the butt. You think the DMV is bad. Now, I fully respect the Irish culture of relax and laid backness, but some things would not fly in America. Like the fact that the workers kept texting and talking to each other when there was literally a room full of people waiting on them. Luckily I had planned ahead, hearing immigration horror stories so I watched a few episodes of FRIENDS on my Ipod, trying not to laugh out loud. It helped to tune out the screaming people and the smelly people who always seemed to sit in close proximity to me.
After they finally called my number 169, I had to hand in some forms, take another hideous mug shot photo, and pay my 150 euro to stay in the country. Then I had to wait to get my immigration registration card...pretty much my green card. Ofcourse the man handing them out was about the slowest worker I have ever seen. He had to enter the card numbers into a ledger, stamp each passport twice, and call our names. I am pretty sure he needs glasses and is in denial because after watching him for about 30 minutes waiting for my card, he kept squinting at the cards. Despite their slow moving speed, they still managed to make mistakes in the cards. They spelled Claire's name wrong, and got the birthdates wrong of some of the other people. Luckily everything was right on my card and finally I got to leave the GNIB and head back home to eat something which I hadn't done all day. I am not saying that America's process is much better, I'm sure it's not. But what a pain. Plus, all the people I were waiting with had no concept of personal space. About 4 kids kept running into me while their parents paid absolutely no attention to them. People literally came up and stood right in front of me. It may have been the fact that I had been there for 5 hours at this point, but my patience level was not very high for people to get up in my face and knock into me without an apology. Being foreign and dealing with the bureaucracy is not a fun experience-- lesson learned.
After I got home and had some dinner, I got ready for my 6 pm class. I double checked my schedule to make sure I had the time right and headed there. Only to have the professor and half the class not show up, so I left after 20 minutes.
Things definitely run a little different here. But it's good to get out of the box a little bit and get a little foreign perspective.
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