Issues and Resolutions

It's less than a month before I leave, and I've been having some difficulties.  Until about a week ago, I was making all my travel arrangements with an agency which I will keep unnamed as not to hurt their livelihood (though how I'd like to...).  They had helped me with my visa, and I had payed for their services out of my own hard earned money.  My forms were still at the consulate, and I hadn't gotten my ticket yet.

My mom, being the penny-pincher and sweet-talker that she is, thought that the best idea would be to use our frequent flyer miles.  Normally, an opened ended, year long ticket (or whatever it's called) costs about twenty eight hundred dollars, and that's for a cheep one in the back of coach seating.  My mom, using her Jedi-like powers, managed to wrangle me one that would only skim off five hundred dollars from my not-so-considerable pot of gold.

We tried to call the travel agency, since they asked that we confirm a ticket purchase with them, but no one answered, no matter how many times we called.  We tried everyone who's number was on the website, but nada.  My mom purchased the ticket for me and I emailed the agency, telling them that my ticket was bought and to send me my visa when it was done.

Not only did the agency send my mother and I rude, unprofessional emails, but they threatened to withhold my passport until I payed a never before mentioned three hundred dollar fee.  Now, if this fee was written in any of the documents we received, I would have no problem with paying for it--after all, my mom would still be saving me two thousand dollars)--but it wasn't, and three hundred dollars is a lot.

Three hundred dollars (for me) is:

A really, really big shopping spree with dinner afterwards
Eating out once a day for a month
Six cute outfits
Roughly ten pairs of shoes
A nice going away party with food, drinks, and someone to clean the house
Host gifts for all my families, and then extra for a suitcase
A little less than a make in a month

For a seventeen year old girl, three hundred dollars is a lot, especially, when I'm paying for most of this myself.  So, I wasn't exactly what you'd call a happy camper.  My mom said she'd handle it, and, a few minutes later, my travel agent emailed her, saying that I wouldn't be going to be able to go to Belgium because I wasn't getting my documents back from them.

Then the mail man arrived with a big ol' envelope for me.

You see, my mom had called the consulate's office when she couldn't contact the travel agency, and told them that we were doing everything ourselves now and to send us the visa when they had approved it.  The envelope contained not only my visa, but all of the other documents that the travel agency had said that they would be withholding until their extortion scheme was complete.

They're still sending us nasty emails about keeping my passport.

Best part is, we never told them we have it.

Morals of the story:

Never pay someone to do something that you can easily do yourself
--And--
Sometimes, moms are pretty great.

Later,

Greta

The Last Summer

My name is Greta, and I'm going to be a Rotary Youth Exchange Student beginning in August this year.  I am excited--you don't need to ask.

I apologize for my melodramatic title, but I believe it fits.  This is my last summer as a high schooler, as well as the last summer before my adventure abroad.  It is the last summer I will spend with my friends being the geeky, yet extremely fashionable 'Greta' that people know me as.  When I return, I won't be the same person that I left as.  I don't know who I'll be, and that's scary enough to think about. So, this is the 'last summer' for the Greta you all know and some of you love.

I've finished my paperwork, and now I just have to wait until my visa goes through the consulate.  It's the waiting part, and it's almost as bad as the actually application.  I'm working on my French with Rosetta Stone, even though I've taken up through French IV at my school.  I seem to have forgotten it all.

I can't wait to go, and yet I'm reluctant to leave my friends, who are, frankly, very awesome. Every time they talk about their schedules for next year or the best things about being a senior, I feel a little quiver in my stomach.  I don't want to leave them, and yet I've waited my whole life for an adventure like this.  I can't turn it down.

I'll be studying in Belgium, in a French speaking city called Tournai.  I google-creep it all the time, and it's gorgeous, and my first host family seems really nice.  I can't wait to be there, where the winters aren't five below or the summer reaching heat indexes of 117 degrees.  People who have been there tell me Belgium is beautiful, but I still find myself gazing at Iowan corn fields as we drive past, wondering if I'll miss them.

I'm planning on posting once a week once I get to Belgium, to keep everyone at home updated.  It'll be a lot easier than sending postcards to everybody I know. :)

Over and out,

Greta