Student Visas, A Lesson in Bureaucracy

To study abroad in Chile, you need a student visa. To get a student visa, you are going to need to:

1. Go to Denver police headquarters and obtain fingerprints from a scary woman while trying to avoid eye contact with the girl handcuffed to the bench next to you. Also, avoid filling out your fingerprint form at the table under the giant sign that says “Sex Offender Registration”
2. Use obtained fingerprints to apply for FBI Background Check—find that it is not as CSI like as expected
3. Wait. And get used to waiting.
4. Call the nearest consulate—Houston—several times to try and understand exactly what they need from you. Then call again to double check. 
5. Obtain official program and university acceptance letters. Promptly make several copies of both.
6. Get physical or some sort of letter from your doctor assuring the consulate that you are not contagious or harmful to the overall health of the country. Then make some copies of it.
7. Wait. Wait until that darn FBI Background Check finally comes in the mail, then be disappointed that it’s just a piece of paper that says you have never been arrested, make copies, and spring into action.
8. Send everything off to your friendly neighborhood Chilean consulate. Originals only—hence all of the necessary copying.
9. Receive a phone call from a lovely gentlemen at the Chilean consulate who will force you to speak in Spanish, which in the course of the conversation can build up your confidence in your Spanish skills, and promptly tear them down. He will send you some forms that you must promptly complete and return.
10. Wait so long that you realize you have a week until you fly off to another country, so by this time you really need that visa. Call the consulate to have them tell you that your visa was approved, and, really now, why didn’t you call sooner?
11. Set up appointment for 20 hours later to drive to Houston and receive your visa in person. Force a sibling to come with you, even though you have to leave at 6:30 am. In this case, I went with my brother and promised a short trip (fulfillment of promise is optional).
12. Drag butt out of bed at what is an ungodly hour for a vacationing college student and drag siblings butt out of bed. Assure worried parents that you can drive and set out on the road. Sing obnoxiously loud while sibling attempts to sleep. Arrive in Houston responsibly early for your appointment.
13. Nicely ask sibling to pay $160 visa fee, make pleasant conversation with other Chileans in the waiting room, and finally, finally celebrate your victory when you are handed your passport with the visa neatly stuck inside. In this case you are permitted a solid strut out of the office.
14. Force sibling to return to consulate office two minutes later to take picture by the Chilean flag.

Be sure to beam. You have something to brag about!

14 steps. 14 lengthy steps to receive what is essentially a sticker with your face and name on it in your passport. But getting a sticker has never felt more exhilarating—it’s probably comparable to twice the satisfaction that you used to feel when the dentist gave you stickers because you brushed carefully for months in order to not get cavities. This sticker is empowering—you earned it, and it is going to allow you to spend five months studying in another country. Emit content sigh of satisfaction.