October Woes Part 1

In my last post, I left you wondering how the contract signing went. It didn’t go well. Because I was applying for a residence permit, my rental contract had to be notarized per immigration laws. At the notary we learned that the landlord didn’t have the right documentation to get the contract notarized. The deed was in her husband’s name and he was hospitalized.

We regrouped across the street at the realtor’s office. The landlord called a lawyer and said she should be able to get the correct document from a judge within a week or so. My current residence permit was expiring in a few days and I needed an address in my new city in order to apply for residency there. Thinking it was just a formality of waiting for the document, we signed a non-notarized rental contract and I used the address of this apartment to apply for a new residence permit hoping I would have a notarized rental contract before my residence permit appointment.

I waited on news about the document in the big city until the weekend. I knew no business would be done on the weekend so I decided to return to my city where I could sleep in my own bed, see some local friends and work on packing my stuff. I found out a few days later that the landlord was not able to secure the document. Why???? Because her husband was in a coma. A COMA!!!! Who saw that coming? 

Message stating the apartment fell through

I sobbed again. I felt hopeless. What would this mean for applying for my residence permit? I couldn’t use the address on my application. Everything felt so very hopeless. 

A new plan was devised allowing me to use another girl’s address in the new city. She and I were acquaintances and I was thankful she was willing to help me out. She signed some documents and I wrote a formal letter explaining why I was now using a new address. All of this was enclosed in my residency application packet.

Residency Application Packet

I then moved in with this girl temporarily while I was waiting on my residency appointment and approval. On the day of my appointment, I was scheduled for the farthest immigration office. When you wait until the last minute to apply, you get the worst location. I decided to take a taxi because taking public transportation would have taken several hours and involved seven changes of transportation. Even by taxi, the ride lasted an hour and a half… in the same city.

In the past, visa appointments have caused me lots of anxiety. I felt somewhat vulnerable setting off on this one alone. But the Lord reminded me that morning that I was not alone. Rather the Lord of Hosts was with me and a crowd of people were praying for me. I had abundant peace. I ended up talking with the taxi driver about faith for the bulk of the car ride. 

Painting to remind me of the truth of the unseen

In my old city, visa appointments were quick and easy. There were usually, at most, ten people waiting ahead. I was shocked to arrive at this one and see line controls (like at amusement parks) and about 100 people in line in front of me. We were waiting outside on a cold and rainy day. I was thankful for the tin roofing keeping us dry. All of my papers were accepted and I was out of there in roughly two hours. I needed to use the facilities and found one of the worst bathrooms I’ve ever used. The worst part is that I paid to use it! I used another bathroom later in the day that was one of the nicest I have ever used. What a contrast!

Having the immigration appointment behind me, the waiting game began. I had heard that response times were taking two to three weeks. In the meantime, I tried to be purposeful with my time in the big city. I decided to tackle my bank dilemma. 

In the middle of the banking problems, I discovered that there had been a misunderstanding about my staying temporarily with the gal who had let me use her address. According to her, she hadn’t been asked if I could stay with her but had rather been voluntold by some superiors. Not wanting to leave me hanging, she let it go and decided to let me stay there for a few weeks. Then she was again voluntold that I might possibly stay with her for a few months and she was not happy about it. She was gracious to me but I happened to get stuck in the cross hairs of some stuff she was dealing with. I had to pack up yet again and be displaced. Again I had a big long cry. I felt unwanted by landlords and now by this girl. And it meant another move with my suitcases. It triggered other disappointments in my life and I had a big ol pity party. 

I had planned on staying with her for several weeks and had brought a little more than I would have had I known I was staying with her for only a week. And it was quite the ordeal trying to get my stuff packed up again. I already had plans to stay at my friends’ house with their three youngest kids while the parents were away. They came to get me and my stuff in a taxi helping me get my things from house to house. I paid for the taxi, but my mind was not working at max capacity. I overpaid the taxi driver by a lot. I think he ended up with a 50% tip or something. I then spent the next few days with the kiddos. 

All packed up for another move