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Wednesday, July 16th, 2003
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11:30p - Anything that can go wrong will go wrong
7/16 7:10pm ET
I'm currently sitting at Max and Erma's Cafe at Cleveland's Hopkins International Airport. It's my first real meal for the day. What a long strange journey it's been for my return to Singapore. Let me relate how it all happened.
It all began yesterday. I was packing my stuff into my two suitcases and cabin bag, while thinking about how I was going to clean my apartment in lieu of my check-out. While taking a breather, I decided to take a look at my various travel documents to make sure that everything was in order. Student visa - valid. Exit permit - valid. I-20 form - expired, but the International Students' Services office said that it was fine as long as my EAD card was valid. Air tickets - checked and confirmed. Passport - everything looked in order... NOT!
My passport had expired on 31 January 2003!
After a moment of panic, I knew what to do. A few years ago, Paul had encountered the same problem. The difference was that he had found out about his predicament a few days in advance, whereas I had found out the day before my flight. But the solution was the same: call the Singapore Consulate pronto and arrange to have my passport extended.
But first, I called home to let my parents know about my problem and that there was a very good chance that I wouldn't be able to make my flight. After that, I called the embassy in Washington, D.C., but the operator informed me that I should call the consulate in New York because that handles matters for people in Wisconsin (each consulate handles certain states).
So I called the New York office, but as luck would have it, their office hours were 9am to 1pm ET, and I was calling at 1pm CT, i.e. 2pm ET. The only thing I could do was leave a voice memo, stressing the urgency of my situation, and pray that someone would pick it up.
I continued packing my stuff, then suddenly the phone rang. I picked it up and found myself speaking with Janet, who works at the San Francisco consulate. Apparently, my call had been forwarded to that office. She explained that a passport extension was usually done through the mail. With Paul's experience in mind, I asked if I could fly down to San Francisco and do it on-the-spot. She said that she'd have to call back to see if I could do that.
About an hour later, I got her positive reply. She would send my request for a passport extension to Singapore to obtain approval. In the meantime, I needed to fax a copy of my passport information page, an application form for the extension of my passport, and a copy of my exit permit (since I didn't have my identity card with me).
Then she said that one of my friends wanted to speak with me. I immediately became paranoid. Thoughts of the police or Internal Security Department personnel came to my head. So I asked who that friend was and found out that it was Lea Chan, a Singaporean who had graduated from UW-Madison about three years ago. I had got to know her when we had gone to Chicago in 1999 to attend Links, a conference for Singaporean students studying in the United States.
I was excited when I heard her voice. Though she worked in the same office as Janet, she didn't handle passport matters. Nonetheless, she said that she'd help me expedite my application. Was I relieved! I felt really, really, really lucky at that moment, like all of the pieces were falling into place.
The application form is available on the consulate's Web site. But at that moment, the cable guy to disconnect my cable service. Fortunately, I had had the foresight earlier in the day to browse around the Web site and download the application form. Whew! Since I don't have a fax machine, I had to go to Bob's Copy Shop and fax it from there. They were open till 6pm and it was 5:30pm already. Needless to say, I rushed out of my apartment to handle the fax... only to walk back again because I'd forgotten to bring the fax number. D'oh!
Anyway, the fax was sent successfully. Lea called back to say that she had received it, because Janet had left for the day. I was a bit disheartened to hear that because I thought that that would delay my application. But Lea said that everything was fine and my application was pretty much as good as approved, so I should just relax for the night.
But relaxation was the last thing on my mind. I still had quite a bit of work to do, like change my flight reservation and pack my stuff. I called Expedia first because I thought I could change it there. Nope, I couldn't. So I called Continental Airlines.
The travel agent said that I couldn't refund my ticket, but I could change the flight routes. The catch: I had to do it at the airport and their ticket office there had closed at 5pm. But I had until Thursday midnight (i.e. all of Wednesday) to change my flight. I was kind of taken aback by that at first, because my flight was scheduled to depart at 12:30pm and I was told that I could change the ticket *after* that time. But the agent assured me that it could be done, so I decided not to worry about it. She also let me know that there was a flight to San Francisco scheduled to depart at 3:55pm on Wednesday, which gave me a timeframe to work out what to do.
Next up was packing. I realized that I would need to pack an extra box for my winter jackets because I couldn't fit all of my stuff into the suitcases. That was on top of the two boxes that I needed to ship out consisting of my printer and some miscellaneous items. Zoinks.
Oops, time to board my flight.
9:55pm CT
I'm on the plane to San Francisco. The movie, "Old School," has just ended. I didn't watch it when it was in the cinemas because I didn't think it was worth paying $7.50 for. Just as well. It didn't seem like a very good movie. Or maybe it was because of the small screen.
Back to my story. So I stayed up the whole night packing my stuff. And as the night wore on, I found my actions slowing down as fatigue overcame me. I mean, it was to the point where I had to drag myself to get up and throw away the rubbish.
Finally, as dawn came, I had completed taping up the three boxes and packing both suitcases. All that was left were some items that would be packed last, like my toiletries.
At 6:30am, I decided that I couldn't take it any more and took a half hour nap. I woke up feeling groggy. But I had to wake up anyway because a potential buyer for my car had called to say that he would like to test drive it and he would arrive in 15 minutes. So Tim and I waited for his call, then went down to meet him. He seemed like a really jovial guy and he admitted that he was just looking for a cheap second car to drive around, so all he was concerned about was that it was in good driving condition. He took it for a test drive around the area and was satisfied with it. He gave me $200 in cash, I gave him the title, and the deal was done. Woo-hoo! One less thing to worry about.
Back home, I decided to sleep some more, planning to wake up at 9am to go to the post office. But I was feeling so tired that I slept on till 10:30am, even though I woke up whenever my alarm went off every half an hour. I had purposely set it that way because I planned to do more work, but I was just too tired to do anything else but sleep. Tim made coffee for me, but I was too tired to even drink it.
Then around 9am, the phone rang. I thought it was Janet, so I rushed to pick up the phone. Nope, it was Patricia from the New York consulate calling about my passport extension. She said that she could handle my request and proceeded to ask for information that I had provided Janet. So I explained that I had done all this with the San Francisco consulate. When Patricia heard that, she then said that she thought I was still in limbo and I should just stick with the San Francisco consulate. I thought that the New York and San Francisco consulates had arranged something together to expedite my application. So nothing further was done over this call.
At 10:30am, I dragged myself out of the house and to the post office to mail off my boxes. That's the last time I'll ever go there. I've been there so often that the post office workers more or less recognize me already. Then I came back and slept some more.
While I was sleeping, the phone rang again after 11am. It was Janet and she had good news: my application had been processed and I could fly down to San Francisco to pick up the paperwork! Woo-hoo!
Now I just needed to finish cleaning the apartment. First, I threw away my old TV and VCR sets, which had served me well for the past two years. Then I emptied out my room of all the trash. Finally, I vacuumed the carpet, which had never been cleaned since the day I moved in. As I saw the thick layer of dirt sucked in, I could understand why creepy crawlies liked living in my room.
When I next checked the time, it was 1pm! If I was to get the 3:55pm flight, I should be at the airport at 1:55pm to check in. And I hadn't even changed my ticket yet! I wanted to shower before leaving, but now I had no chance to do that. All I could do was brush my teeth and shave. Then I arranged to check out of my apartment. Hmm, apparently I had not cleaned the bathroom to their expectations. Ah well, there goes part of my security deposit.
But I had more important things to worry about, like getting to the airport. Tim and I lugged my bags down to the car, then drove to the airport. We arrived at about 2:10pm and I went straight to the ticket counter. When I said that I wanted to change my flight, the agent said that it couldn't be done because they only flew to Cleveland. But I explained what the Continental agent had told me, and after she looked at my ticket, she realized that I would need to make a connecting flight at Cleveland. It took about 30 to 45 minutes to settle it, but in the end, everything was done. My original ticket was refunded and I bought a new ticket for more than $1,400. I checked in my bags, said my goodbyes to Tim, then headed for the security area.
For some reason, I had been chosen for extra security checks. I was led to one side where I had to remove my shoes and stand with my arms outstretched while the guard scanned me. Meanwhile, my bags had been taken to a table and two guards proceeded to open it and go through my stuff. Since I'm no terrorist, I had nothing to worry about. I had even made sure, in my half-awake state in the morning, to pack my pair of scissors in a suitcase. When the inspection was done, I asked why I had been chosen. The guard gave a list of possible reasons, like one-way trip, cash purchase of ticket, my name matching those of suspected terrorists, etc. Basically, it was no reason at all. Still, it was my first time experiencing this, so at least now I know what it's like.
The hour-long flight to Cleveland was easy. The plane was a really small one and could accommodate probably 50 passengers. There are only three seats per row, with an aisle between seats A and B. I was in seat A, so I sat alone. I looked out the window once in a while, but for the most part, I was sound asleep, not even realizing that the stewardess had handed out refreshments.
Once I arrived in Cleveland, I called Lea to tell her about my flight to San Francisco. We arranged so that I would take a shuttle to her apartment. I absolutely cannot believe my luck in finding Lea. Like I said before, I feel really, really, really lucky. If Lea hadn't offered to put me up, I was ready to stay at a hotel. My mom had recommended Handlery Hotel, which is located in downtown San Francisco. My original choice was a Holiday Inn because I'm a member there, which means that I would have a special suite with a complimentary copy of "U.S.A. Today" in the morning. Now, I didn't even need either of them.
The only problem now is my luggage. All of my big bags have to follow me. There's no option for me to have them sent straight to Singapore while I'm still in San Francisco. I hope there are overnight lockers at the airport. Worse comes to the worst, I'll just have to lug them around.
So now I'm on the four-hour flight to San Francisco. If I can leave my bags in a locker, then I plan to take a brief tour of the city. If I can't, then I think I'll just pick up my papers and head straight to the airport, even though that means I'll be spending almost five hours there. But what can I do? I'm saddled with three heavy bags that are not suitable for sight-seeing.
Hmm, which reminds me, gotta remember to bring my camera, so that I can take pictures at the consulate. Haha, I need something to remind me about this memorable trip.
current mood:  indescribable (comment on this)
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