Korean Tektoniker Dances Outside The Box

Thank You CBC Radio 2

Driving home to Peterborough from Montreal was a real pleasure.

6:30 am. Beautiful light. Time to think. And CBC Radio 2, straight from Newfoundland.

It was a great opportunity to catch up some new Canadian content that I've missed over the past few months, and other cool bits and pieces.

This is a taste of what my morning sounded like, for those of you who are interested:

Great Lake Swimmers new single:

Yael Naim

 

Glen Campbell (I had no idea this was his song)

When Things Finally Start Going Your Way

When things finally start to go my way, I always feel like I shouldn't tell anyone because I just might jinx it. 

Against all my better judgement, I will share with you my good news.

As of Monday morning I became 'Green', as in the US Immigration Services granted me my Green Card.

Two years later. 

Thank you.

I am pretty sure they can't take it away from me at this point, but no wait.

Silly me, now I remember reading the fine print. 

It said "You are still not American, so we reserve the right to do whatever the hell we like."

Right. Got it. Thank you. I won't forget this time.

Jest aside, I am very grateful for this opportunity, and even more grateful that this process is drawing to a close.

After all the hoopla and working myself up about the Embassy Interview, not to mention working up all my family and friends about the whole thing, it all felt very anti-climactic. A friend of mine actually cried real tears when she heard the results. I on the other hand felt like I just finished watching a long anticipated film that turned out to be nothing special. Sort of like the new Star Wars episodes. 

I don't feel like running through every detail of the day.

I've been living 'details' for the last 9 months and I think I am becoming either tired or bored of them. Possibly both. 

Sign this. Date that. Reread. Copy. Understand. Reformat. Send. Attach. Don't smile. And pay, pay, pay.

Here, instead, is my short version of Monday mornings US Embassy Meeting, which I think is just as good and gets the point across well enough.

1. 7:30am Embassy doors open.

2. Airport style security in the lobby of an inconspicuous building.

3. First in line.

4. Alone in the large waiting room on the top floor of inconspicuous building.

5. Feeling like all of a sudden I am in the Matrix.

6. Called to the desk.

7. Collection of documents.

8. Told to wait. 

9. While waiting, watch poor Indian man being belittled by dominatrix immigration official. 

9a. Thank God I didn't end up with Dominatrix Lady.

10. Futuristic finger print taking with futuristic fingerprint taking device.

11. Lots more waiting.

12. Raise right hand and swear to God you are not a terrorist.

13. Show us the money!

14. Tsk, tsk. Shame on you for visiting your husband too much.

15. Approved!

My tension levels were up and down throughout the whole morning. 

I walked in there believing I wouldn't be approved. 

Then I got very confident. 

Then I saw Indian Man get shut-down by Dominatrix Lady and the confidence levels became more realistic (ie. lower).

Finally, when I was being interviewed any self-assurance I had left hit the floor. Seconds later I was approved.

What a mind-job. 

Thankfully the staff at the embassy were professional and kind (at least the people I dealt with were). 

It was nothing like dealing with customs officials at the border.

Now I have a little bit of waiting to do before I fly home to my nutrient starved husband.

Apparently he is on a high-gluten diet.

Pizza and beer. 

I'm almost positive that there hasn't been anything green in the house for weeks. 

Just wait t'ill I get home to him. Not only will I have a 'Green' Card, but fresh veggies will once again prevail!

And also, I can finally get cracking on that intestinal cleanse i've always wanted to do.

I bet he just can't wait.

Going Green

Tomorrow is the moment of truth.

Tomorrow I go where no sane person has gone before.

Tomorrow I venture into the dark side.

Tomorrow is my Green Card interview.

Send a prayer up for me!

M.

If only I was a war-bride or a mennonite, life could be this easy.

The Clean Bin Project

I'm looking forward to this documentary when it comes out:

Examine This!

If you ever want to know what it feels like to be put through a bureaucratic meat grinder, just try immigrating to the US and then at the same time apply for a job in Japan.

Today mom and I drove into Toronto for my 3rd doctor's appointment in less than one month.

#1 was for a tetanus booster required by the US government.

#2 was again for the US government, proving I was void of all plagues and infestations.

#3 was for the Japanese government, also reassuring them that I'm clean as a whistle and that my body is in fact pneumonia-SARS-madcow free.

It crossed my mind that maybe I should have just asked Japan to talk to America, cause America already did this whole health inspection routine thing already, and it would save me time, Canada money and we'd all live happily ever after.

But no, it doesn't really work like that, does it. I admit, the idea of two world power's actually sharing practical information with each other almost borders on the absurd.

Most of my Japan Health Exam is over with, but there are a couple loose ends to tie up. I have yet another trip to the doctor next week. I have to get a urine sample analyzed. 

I will also have to do something about my pulse rate because the doctor forgot to note it down on my health form. This, I only figured out after driving the 1.5 hours back to Peterborough. Against my not-so better judgement to take my own pulse and fill in the blank, I plan on calling her tomorrow and somehow remedying this situation. I may have to make another trip back for her to put her fingers on my wrist and tell me that yes, I'm still alive. 

In the meantime, while I wait for just the right opportunity to pee into a tiny little cup (whose tiny size guarantee's I will almost certainly get most of my urine on my hand, and not in the cup), me and the parental units are headed to Montreal with the huge x-ray of my chest to show to staff at the US Consulate. Of course, that's not the only thing they will want to see from me, but it's far more interesting than all the other official documents and proofs of marriage I have to deliver.

So if you believe in prayer, pray for me this weekend, because Monday I'll be sitting in the most important interview of my life thus far, and it's going to take a lot more than just a cool chest x-ray to get me through it successfully.

When I Grow Up I Want to Be Ken Tanaka

So the big news is in! 

After much begging, Japan has graciously granted me a position as an assistant teacher. 

Possibly they are taking pity on North Americans who have degree's but can't find employment in their own home country.

Whatever their reasons, both Matthew and I are excited and looking forward to once again being foreigners in a strange land. 

But so many details have yet to be worked out. 

MORE paper-work filed, packages mailed, passports stamped, money spent. Oy Vay! 

The paper pushers are going to love us! And the red tape has already begun.

Apparently there is some law in Japan that states you can't import more than 1 months supply of medication or prescription drugs. Contact lenses and birth control are included in this requirement. 

But of course, there is a detailed form we can fill out to the Japanese Embassy, and likely a fee that we can pay to clear customs. 

I'm not surprised. In fact, I'm incredibly not surprised. 

Two years dealing with two separate governments and their bureaucratic junk has left me numb to anything short of aliens landing in my backyard.

In any case, in celebration of our recent acceptance into the JET Program, I thought I would introduce you to Ken Tanaka, as it a small dream of mine to meet this Japanese legend. His insight into Japanese culture is indeed inspiring.

Medi-Truth

There are a ton of misconceptions about Canada that get spread around in the US, equally as many as the ideas we have about Americans. The more time I spend south of the border, the more the opportunity rises to speak to friends and family about "what it's really like" on the other side. Hands down, above all else, they want to know the skinny about our Universal Health Care system. I quickly began to realize how little I actually know about the Canadian system. Truthfully, I don't think most of my peers know much either. 

What really needs to be known? 

We get sick, we go the hospital, we get treated, we go home.

We do pay for our health care though. How much? 

I have no idea. I let the government do the math. So far my taxes haven't prevented me from buying groceries or paying the rent, or shopping at Banana Republic.  

Obviously paying for health insurance through my taxes hasn't hindered my lifestyle.

Before I met Matthew and before I was spending months at a time in the US, I really took our Universal system for granted.

This last trip back to Canada though, I almost opened my wallet and kissed my Health Card. 

Possibly, this is the biggest difference between Americans and Canadians. 

Not that we are friendlier or smarter or that they are fatter or more war hungry (my time in Minneapolis has definitely disproved some of these myths) but that Canadians are possibly healthier. Statistically speaking we do live longer and have a lower infant mortality rate. That must stand for something. Or maybe we just have one less thing to worry about.

One less very big thing.

The US has an excellent level of health care, that I know for sure.

It boasts some of the best doctors and medical technology in the world . Wether or not someone like myself or Matthew could be treated by those doctors, I'm not sure. Even with insurance. And that's the shocker. 

Anyways, all this to say that I'm on a personal mission to get some straight facts. Yes, I do believe that Universal Health Care is the way to go, but I'm open to hearing the downside of it as well. 

I know it's not perfect.

I know that it has been abused. 

I know that some Canadians want something better or different. 

But I don't think we are about to turn to the US for suggestions. 

I found this on YouTube, which was incredible, because there were so many people spewing Wikipedia facts on there justifying the American Free Enterprise system, but none of them were medical officials. 

This was the only medical representative that I could find who had real research and experience under her belt that I really trusted.

The Saga Continues

Most Toronto friends know that I'm back in town prepping for my Green Card interview that is coming up in a couple of weeks. I'm back for a little over a month because Matt and I decided it was better that I come home as soon as possible and for as long as possible.  I have never been turned away from entering the US, but the last couple of crossings have been rather intense and one officer let me know that I was getting 'dangerously close' to being turned away.  That's their way  of saying that 'You haven't broken any laws, but we still don't like you'. Fair enough. I appreciated their warning and took it seriously, so I'm home a bit earlier than necessary.

The last week or two has been spent gathering a few documents that I was missing for my Green Card Interview. The interview will be held in Montreal, and I will need to provide lots of paperwork that proves our marriage is legitimate and that Matt makes enough money to support us both. Part of the process requires that I have a medical exam done. This is no ordinary medical. You can't go to just any doctor. It has to be one commissioned by the US government, and there is only one such doctor in Toronto, and maybe four across the whole country. The medical is done to show that you don't have any dormant plagues living in your body, like Tb or Syphilis. I'm not sure why they care, because unlike the Canadian government, the US has made it clear that they aren't paying for any of my medical bills. Every man for himself, I guess. 

I had my medical a couple days back. The whole experience was like being put on a broken assembly line. You show up at 7:00am and you sit in a packed-like-sardines waiting room for 40 minutes before they call your name and steal $275.00 from your wallet. Apparently this medical is considered 'elective', even though you have no choice but to take it, so you pay out of pocket for it. Then you wait. Then they call you again. Chest x-ray. Wait some more. Sign this permission form. Draw your blood. Wait. Sit naked in the doctors office with one of those embarrassing, backless paper robes on for 20 minutes. Answer a series of quick medical questions. Look in your mouth. Listen to your heart. Breast check. Quick look down under. Done. I walked out of there at about 10:30am, meaning I spent 3.5 hours in that office, but really only about 20 minutes being inspected. 

20 minutes of US approved medical care = $275.00. 

Thanks, but I much prefer the Canadian system of waiting around and paying nothing for it. 

I pick up my sealed results next week, and with that my Green Card Application will be complete.

 The only thing left to do is head to Montreal and face the music. 

Facebook vs. Blogger

I have royally sucked at keeping this blog updated, and I fully blame Facebook. 

It has sucked all the creative writing out from my frontal lobe and replaced it with Digi-Pet feedings, virtual Scrabble and list upon list of 25 Top this or that or the other thing.

So, it's decision making time. I told myself today that it was one or the other. 

One of them had to go. 

Blogger vs. Facebook. Tough battle. 

I thought I could make Facebook something more meaningful by deleting all my 'friends' who probably wouldn't notice if I deleted them (if that's you and you've actually noticed, well that's what you get for never 'liking' any of my profile comments). 

In any case, it still doesn't feel intimate enough. It just feels sort of mindless and very detached from my real friends. 

Plus, I miss getting real emails, with details in them, and full sentences. 

So, much to my own surprise, I will finally be liquidating my Facebook page.

I have not decided on a specific end date, but it will be announced soon. 

Suggestions are welcome.

If you are reading this, make sure to bookmark this page and take note of my email address in the info section of Facebook. Maybe you could even ask for my phone number and we could call each other! 

That's a novel idea. I still have a landline, so it will be an even more authentic communication experience. 

I know, I know. I've promised before that I would be a better blogger, and I've failed you with months of silence and the occasional empty diatribe.

But that was because Facebook was in the picture. I swear!

It took me falling for Facebook (again) to realize how stupid I was to let such a wonderful thing go.

I'm a changed woman.

This time it's really over.  

This time I'm all yours. 

Promise.

-The Industrious Ant.