On applying for a visa...

You may have noticed that I've been writing the last few posts from Toronto.  I'm back in Canada for a while, and doing a few different things while I'm here.  Visiting family, catching up with friends, having various lessons and coachings, taking a masterclass with Tafelmusik... and applying for my visa to stay in Germany.

This is the fourth visa that I have applied for in  five years.  I have applied for student visas in the UK and Belgium, and I have applied for a post-study work visa which allowed me to stay in the UK for two years after graduating.  You would think that after applying for this many visas, I would get the hang of it.  You would think that it would get easier every time.

You would think wrong.

This is me applying for a visa.

Every time that I apply for a visa, it is a stressful, complicated, and enraging process.  It is probably taking several years off of my life.  I swear I'm not being overdramatic here.  You have not fully experienced the absurdities of government bureaucracy until you have applied for a visa to stay in a foreign country.

If you want to stay in another country in the long-term, chances are that you will need to apply for a visa.  I have written before about the process of applying for a visa, but I thought this time I might write something a bit more realistic and practical, with less humorous exaggerations and references to dodos.

Here is a dodo.  I promise not to mention him anymore in this post.

Like I said, it's not an easy process.  But I have learned some things that are helpful to know:

1. Start early.  I can't stress this one enough.  You should start looking into your visa as soon as possible - at least 6 months in advance.  This is because you will probably need to do things which require long-term planning.  You might need to hold a certain amount of money in an account for several months.  You might need to apply from the embassy or consulate in a particular city, which means planning some travel.  Or you might need documents which will take a very long time to process.  When it comes to visas, the early bird will get the worm.

Mmmmm worm.

2. Do your research.  What kind of visa do you need?  What can you qualify for?  You may be eligible for some kind of special consideration.  For instance, if your spouse, parents, or grandparents are citizens of this country, you may qualify for citizenship, or an ancestry visa.  If you are under 35, you may qualify for a youth mobility scheme, which allows young adults to spend time living and working in certain countries.  Make sure you understand the rights and restrictions for the type of visa you are applying for.  Will you be able to work?  Which kinds of work will you be able to do?  How many hours per week?  Will you be able to receive benefits such as healthcare and insurance, or should you make sure that's covered via your home country?  Make sure you know exactly what you're getting yourself into.

3. Make a list.  Check it twice.  Then check it twice again.  You will have various requirements for your visa application.  Some will be very easy, and some will be more complicated.  Make sure you understand exactly what is required for your application.  It's so easy to miss a little detail about how something has to be officially signed and stamped.  So be extra-careful with your list.

Santa doesn't need to check his list as much as you do.

4. Assemble all your requirements.  Keep track of everything carefully.  Use a specially designated folder or box to organise all of your documents.  Print out the list of what you need, and check things off as you go.  Make sure you keep everything in one place.

5. It's all about the money, money, money.  Applying for a visa is expensive.  Expect to pay large amounts of money for things like postage, administration fees, and travel as you prepare your application.  And unless you are applying for a full-time work visa (i.e. you can prove that you have a full-time job with a salary waiting for you when you arrive) you will also need to show that you have a certain amount of money to support yourself while you are abroad.  This is probably the most important requirement for your visa application.  The last thing this country wants is for you to end up broke and unemployed, and become a drain on their economy.  So make sure you have your finances sorted out and you can afford everything you need.

Sorry, Jessie J.  We can't forget about the cha-ching, cha-ching.

6. Plan your travel carefully.  For your application, you will need to know exactly when you are leaving and how long you will stay.  You will probably be required to show tickets as evidence of your travel dates.  You will also need to know where you are staying once you arrive, so make sure that you have your accommodation sorted out.

7. Even when you think you have everything in order, you probably don't.  Check that list again.  And again.  There might be something in fine print which you've missed.  If you're in doubt, find a phone number and call to ask for clarification.  It may take some time before you're able to talk to someone; chances are that the visa helpline will only be open for one hour, one day a week.  But it's worth the hassle just to make sure.

8. Bring a good book.  Once you arrive at the embassy or consulate to formally apply for your visa, you may have to wait a long time before seeing someone - even if you have made an appointment.  Last week I had an appointment, and I still waited 90 minutes to speak to someone at the German Consulate.  And this is Germany, the country that's supposed to be renowned for its punctuality!

9. Allow for the maximum application processing time.  When you are told that your application will take up to 6 weeks to process, it probably won't take 6 weeks to process.  The maximum processing time is something the visa office tells you to cover their backs.  In other words, it doesn't usually take this long, but there have been some cases - when the office was very busy, or there were complications - where it has taken this long.  Obviously you hope that your application will be processed quickly.  Nonetheless, you should prepare for the worst.  You will be giving up your passport with your application, which means that you will be landlocked until your application is processed and you have your visa.  The last thing you want is to book an early plane ticket, only to discover that you won't be able to leave when you were planning.  Changing flights can cost a fortune.  So pay attention to the maximum processing time, and be prepared to stay put for a while.

10. Surrender to the absurdity.  You will be asked to provide some completely unreasonable things for your visa application.  For example, my visa application required me to book a flight back to Canada in a year's time.  Which is understandable, right?  They wanted to make sure I wouldn't just stay in Germany illegally after my visa expires.  The problem is, it's virtually impossible to buy a flight this far in advance!  Most airlines will only let you book a flight up to 8 months ahead of time.
You will be asked for all kinds of unreasonable things like this as you're applying for your visa.  And once you have collected all of these unreasonable things, it will turn out that they didn't need half of them in the first place.  After spending all that time and money, after going through all that stress, they will airily hand it back to you.
You could get annoyed by this.  You could get indignant.  But really, what is the point?  When it comes down to it, the visa office has all the power to accept or deny your application.  If they ask you to jump through a hoop, you will jump through that hoop, and no amount of complaining will change that.  Trust me, for the sake of your sanity - do not get worked up about all this irrational bureaucracy.  Do not rage against the machine.  Be a Zen master and go with the flow.  Accept the absurdity.  Surrender to it.  Laugh about it if you can.  It's the only way to cope.

Be at one with the red tape ridiculousness.

As for me, I handed in my visa application last week, and immediately collapsed in a heap of exhaustion.  I hadn't realised until then just how much it had been stressing me out.  But once I handed in the application and the decision was out of my hands, I relaxed a bit.  I sat down and I couldn't get up.  (Luckily, it happened to be Halloween, which meant it was socially acceptable to spend all evening on the couch eating candy and watching scary movies.)

Another visa application has been sent off.  All that's left now is to wait, and to hope I haven't missed any details.  I should also find some hair dye to cover up all these grey hairs I seem to be sprouting...

On being far away...

This year for Christmas, my boyfriend gave me a wallet.  Perhaps it doesn't sound to you like the most romantic gift in the world, but I love it.  Not just because it's made by a label called "Puccini".  And not just because it has lots of little compartments that help me organise my various foreign currencies and bank cards.  I love the wallet because I use it all the time, and every time I use it, I think of him.  I don't know about you but I think that's pretty romantic.

Every day I feel lucky to be where I am, to be following my dreams.  But every day I also deal with the fact that I am far away from the people I love.  Even now, when I am visiting my boyfriend in Sweden, I am far away from my family in Canada.  People often ask me if I miss Canada.  To be honest, I don't often miss Canada.  But I always miss my family.

I consider myself very lucky to have been born into such a large and loving family.  My family is full of character, curiosity, and passion.  Many of us are musical, and most of us are avid readers.  And although we don't always agree on everything, most of the time we get on very well.  We love to gather, usually over loads of food, and talk each other's ears off.  I love my family and I love spending time with them.  This is a part of my life that I miss very much now that I'm living abroad.

I also miss my boyfriend, who understands me in a way most people don't, and who always knows how to make me laugh.  When we were living in Glasgow I knew he was the right guy because I felt at home when I was with him.  Now that we live in different countries, he's still my home away from home - but he's no longer a 20 minute bus ride away.

Despite their absence, I have found many ways to surround myself with the people I love.  Of course, like anyone living abroad I stay in touch with my family over email and skype.  Obviously I can't stay in touch with everyone this way (there are a LOT of us), but I find that facebook is another great way to keep track of people.  I'm always grateful for the regular updaters in the family, who post pictures and videos and status updates, keeping me up to speed on my nieces and nephews' latest escapades, my cousins' latest projects, or my brothers' latest concerts.  But while the internet is a wonderful thing, the most beloved connections I keep with my family are the tangible ones.

I have a collection of keepsakes scattered around my flat.  There are the photos from my brother's wedding, and the homemade keychain and pencil case from my niece.  There are cards and letters from my boyfriend, and a photo of him which his mother framed for me.  There's a crystal hanging by my window which turns the sunlight into rainbows - a beautiful gift from my parents.  There are letters and postcards from friends and family, and countless trinkets and souvenirs from all the places I've been.

But my all-time favourite keepsake is a sign that says in colourful bubble letters "Welcome home Brynne".  It's from a difficult Christmas a couple of years ago, when I came home a complete mess.  I had just been dumped.  I had also been rejected several times in a run of unsuccessful auditions.  I had lost all my confidence and conviction.  And when I arrived home from the airport, feeling heartbroken and downtrodden, this cheerful sign was stuck on the door.  Waiting for me.  Welcoming me.  Letting me know that no matter what happened, my home and my family were always there.

I now put that sign up on my door -  that is, the door of wherever I'm living at the moment.  It's a reminder that I am home no matter where I am.  I am home because I am always surrounded by the unconditional love and support of my family.

This weekend was my grandma's memorial, an event that I was sadly unable to attend.  But while the prices of plane tickets kept me from crossing the Atlantic, I found other ways to be with my family at this time.  My mom has been sending me regular email updates these last few months, from the time Grandma went into the hospital, to when she went into palliative care, to her final hours.  So I had some time to prepare for her passing, and to think about how I could send my love in a tangible way.  I knew how much my keepsakes from the family meant to me, and I wanted to be able to send something similar to my family.

Naturally, if I was there, I would be singing at the memorial service.  I always sing at family weddings and funerals.  And it would mean a lot for my grandma because she was a singer too.  I decided that the best way to send my love was to record one of my grandma's favourite hymns and send it to my parents so it could be played in the service.

I wasn't able to be at my grandma's memorial, or at the big family gathering that surrounded it.  But I was able to read the text of my dad's eulogy, and to see pictures of my nephews emailed through my mom's BlackBerry.  I was able to skype with the family, getting passed around the sitting room on my brother's iphone.  I even "met" my new baby nephew for the first time (we had a fascinating conversation involving lots of squeals and flailing arms).  My uncle made a video of the service for myself and other absent family members, and I look forward to watching it and "being there" in my own way.

It's not the same as really being there, of course.  And I still get pangs of guilt about that sometimes.  But that's just the way it is right now.

The saddest part of going on an adventure is the people you leave behind.  Every birthday, every anniversary, every wedding and funeral that you miss - it stings.  But real love is more than a physical presence.  It's something that can cross borders and oceans, that can be felt from far away.  I feel the love and support from my family every day.  And I hope they feel it too.

These keepsakes I treasure so much, they aren't important in themselves.  They're important because they remind me of something that's already there.  Every day, no matter where I am and no matter what I am doing, I am surrounded by love.  And my boyfriend and my family are surrounded by it too.  We can't always be there for each other physically.  But we are always there for each other in spirit.

On coming home...

I’m on the bus from Kingston to Toronto and my laptop is officially confused.

Poor little laptop - her life has been full of surprises.  First she was purchased in Canada, where she was given to me as a Christmas present.  For a brief but blissful sojourn, she was allowed to plug into lovely Canadian walls and connect to lovely Canadian wifi, just as nature (or the laptop manufacturer) intended.  But before she knew what was what, she was whisked away to the wilds of Scotland.  Everything was different, from the shape of the plugs to the funny accents to the source of the internet provider.  However, much as she tried to resist her unexpected new home, she did eventually adapt to British ways.

Literally.

But just as my laptop grew accustomed to British ways, she was carried over the English Channel and deep into the heart of the European continent.  Once again she has had to adapt, plugging into Belgian walls and using Belgian wifi.

Now, only months after her latest move, she has been flown all the way back to Canada again!  Despite the lovely Canadian walls and lovely Canadian wifi, it must be very disconcerting.  What is a laptop to think of all this?  I mean really, it’s no wonder that she’s now refusing to connect to the wifi on this bus, and suggesting that I instead connect to the opera studio’s wifi in Ghent.

Yes, computer, even though Ghent is over 5000 km away, that would totally work.

I suppose you could say that I’m visiting home.  We have a long winter holiday before the studio resumes, and having spent Christmas in Scotland with my boyfriend, I’m now spending some time in Toronto with my family.

But then again, is Toronto really my home anymore?  And if Toronto isn’t home, what is?

They say that home is where the heart is.  In that case, I have no idea where my home should be.  Is it in Canada with my family?  Is it in Scotland, where I lived for the last three years and where I met my boyfriend?  Is it in Belgium where I’m studying, or in Sweden where he’s studying?

When I first moved from Toronto to Glasgow, I used to get homesick all the time.  I missed my family, I missed my dog, and I missed the Canadian weather.

Yes, that's right.  I like snow.

But with time, I got settled.  I met new friends, found a job, found a nice place to live.  I got used to the British banter, and even learned to decipher some of the thicker Scottish accents.  I discovered favourite foods and tv shows that I didn’t have at home.  I learned where to get a lovely meal when you can’t be bothered cooking (Marks and Spencers) and where to get moisturiser and toothpaste (Boots) and where to get chocolate at 3 in the morning (the newsagents, or, if you’ve planned ahead, the cupboard).  I learned to use words like “lovely”.   I learned to navigate the train system, the subway system, and the bus routes.  So when my family came to visit me this summer, I was able to show them around easily and suggest great places for coffee, curry, drinks, or whatever they fancied.

When I left Glasgow in September, I kept my gaze fixed firmly forward.  I had enjoyed my time there, but it was time to move on.  I didn't think I would miss it.

Fast forward a few months and I’m leaving Ghent for the Christmas holidays.  First stop: Scotland. 

As soon as I arrive back in the UK, I feel a rush of relief.  Everything feels so familiar.  I mean first of all, people here speak English.  I can actually assume this when I meet them, without doing the whole awkward do-you-don’t-you dance and feeling terribly guilty for not speaking Flemish/French/German.  But it’s not just the language.  It’s the little things.  Costa coffee and Minstrels and Scotrail tickets and Hello magazine…

With gossip in English about celebrities I actually know!

Every little detail I used to take for granted now gives me a little tug of nostalgia.

The feeling intensifies when I visit Glasgow.  This pub, that bus stop, that street corner… everything is infused with memories.  And suddenly I feel really sentimental.  Suddenly this feels like home.

It’s not that I don’t like Ghent.  It’s just that I’m still so new to it.  Having moved only four months ago, I still don’t really know the city.  With time, who knows?  It may grow to feel like home.  But right now I’m still finding my way, and it still feels very unfamiliar.  So it’s not just Glasgow that I miss.  It’s that feeling of being settled, of knowing my way around.  It’s the comfort and familiarity in my day-to-day life.

And now I’m back in Toronto, where I lived the first 24 years of my life.  Surely this should feel like home, even more than Glasgow did.  Right?  Well, it does and it doesn’t.

I haven’t lived in Toronto for 3 years, and a lot can happen in 3 years.  Shops can close down and be replaced.  Prices can go up.  People can move.  Nieces and nephews can grow up.  And even the things that used to feel normal can become distant and strange.

For example.  When I first moved to Glasgow, I remember thinking everything was very small and quaint.  Well, at some point I must have gotten used to things being on a smaller, more European scale.  Because now when I come back to Toronto I’m overwhelmed by just how big everything is!  Canadians have lots of space, and we use it to live large.  Six-lane highways, skyscrapers, endless fields… everything seems to be on growth hormones!  And it’s not just the size of things, it’s the extent of them.  The millions and millions of options.  You don’t just watch tv, you choose from thousands of satellite channels.  You don’t just buy your food at a shop, you go to a giant supermarket the size of a city block and choose your breakfast cereal from about 900 different brand names.

I recommend the Apple Jacks.

Did I used to think this was normal?  Apparently yes.  But now I feel a sort of reverse culture shock when I visit my family.  It all feels very familiar, and yet very unfamiliar at the same time.

And what about me?  Am I now unfamiliar for Canada?  Have I changed too much?  Having spent so long away, I can’t help but wonder if there is a place for me here anymore.  My family and friends enjoy seeing me and catching up.  But can we really catch up?  Or is there just too much to catch up on?  We all like to think there would always be a place for us if we returned to where we came from.  But perhaps it’s unfair to expect everyone to keep the home fires burning.

The truth is, I can never really return to the Toronto I know.  Not the way I'd like to.  Because nothing ever stays the same.  Just like I’m not the same person who left Toronto, Toronto is not the same city I left behind.  And perhaps it’s moved on just as much as I have.

So where is my home now?  Where do I belong?  Perhaps I don’t have a home.  And perhaps I have many homes.  I will always feel deep ties to my Canadian family and background.  But I’ll also enjoy reminiscing with British ex-pats about things like X Factor and Tunnock’s teacakes.  In time, I will settle into my place in Belgium, and this will start to feel like home too.  And who knows how many other countries I might live in, in the years to come?

Sometimes, like my laptop, I feel confused.  I wish my life was simpler.  I wish I was like Dorothy, and I only had one home and there was no place like it.  And instead of planning complicated trips with trains and airport changes, I could just click my heels and be there.

Beats Easyjet any day!

But I’m grateful for all the homes I’ve had, and the memories they’ve given me.  Because there’s no place like Toronto, but there’s also no place like Glasgow.  And there’s no place like Ghent, or even like Gothenburg.  Each of these places has become part of who I am, and they have made my life all the richer.