This morning we went to Immigration. What an experience.
The whole process could've taken 15 minutes, but with the chaos and disorganization, we spent almost 2.5 hours in the decrepit government building. Basically, there are different "stations," and when finally reaching the front of the line at each station, a government official will snap at you, "Is this your first time? OK, well I'm only going to say this once" and then they spit out a list of different things you need to bring, at a pace that won't allow you to write any of it down. The list can't be found on the Internet or anywhere else, forcing you to wait in line at each station only to find out you'll have to do it again (only once more if you have an impeccable short term memory). It reminded me of the paperwork process in Spain:
Once we finally reached my last "station," the dreaded medical exam, I was partially terrified. I am a 5 year old girl when it comes to getting blood drawn, and the place felt like a factory - one in, one out every 3 and a half minutes. As I was waiting for my turn with the needle, grandpa next to me was blabbering on and on about how this is the "best country in the world" all the while the electricity kept going out. How on earth are you telling me that this is the best country in the world if there is going to be no power when I have a needle stuck inside my arm? was all I could think about.
Soon enough, it was my turn. I had to pee in a cup over a seatless toilet that didn't flush. Of course, I urinated all over my hand. Next, it was time for the needle. It was only one tube, but the needle was so thick! The "nurse" put the needle in, and the power goes out. Just my luck. I squealed "Owww" when she finally took it out. How dare her tell me it feels like a mosquito bite!?!
When we left, all I could repeat to boyfriend was "You owe me big time."
The things you do for love..