Donde Esta?

So Greg and I are looking into options for longer visas than 90 days. While it sounds great to head to another country to renew your visa- it is not always cheap, easy, or quick. So- we found out that you can become a student at UBA and get a year visa. Sounds easy, right? But this is Buenos Aires...... a country designed to teach people patience.

So we go to the university, as directed by the website (it was even in English). We are directed to office #4. There are two other people standing in front of the closed door for office #4. They knock, and after a few minutes, a woman comes to the door. She is probably in her early 50's, but age has not been kind. She, like age, is also not kind. It was as though it were a major interruption to do her job. How dare we interrupt her.... couldn't we tell she was on a cigarette break. So- the people in front of us ask a question in Spanish- get an answer- and walk away. Greg and I go to ask our question, and the door slams in our face. So- we knock. And a few minutes later the same woman comes to the door. She and Greg speak to each other in Spanish- and I can understand that we need to go to another place first. She rattles off an address and begins to close the door. We stop her and ask her to write down the address for us- after all, it was if she was speaking Tazmanian Devil Spanish- too fast for even locals to understand.

So- ten minutes later we leave, address in hand. We decide to go the next day. The next morning, we take the bus to the address. We arrive at this building covered completely in graffiti, all the doors adorned with chains, and not a soul in site. The remnants of a business sign remain- faded- but legible. We were at the right place- but we were three years too late. According to the kiosko man (small convenient store that sells everything from gum to shoelaces to hammers), the ministry of education relocated several years ago. We get the new address and find our way there. I am beginning to feel as though I am on some sort of game show that my family set me up on to teach me patience. This is place is too much to be real sometimes.

So we go to the "new" location. We are directed to an office isolated in a far corner. Another very enthusiastic and helpful woman greets us. In order to register, you must have a certified copy of your high school diploma sent to the school. Upon it being sent to the school, you must take the certified copy to a certified translator who will translate the diploma into Castellano. The certified copy must then be taken to another office who will give it their stamp of approval (hopefully), and then we need to bring it back to the office we started at (at the university), who will then give us a paper to bring back to the person we who was standing in front of us telling us the process. I am thinking the package people also take care of student enrollment processes.

So- we are trying to find other options. So far, the easiest way is to get married. We are trying to find a wife for Greg and a husband for me. We will be sending out invites to the wedding as soon as this is accomplished.