The time has come for me to soar away through the sky to my first foreign country not connected to the United States. Time to spend a day or two in airplanes and airports, hopping from one country to the next and flying over many others to reach my destination.
I’ve crossed the border any number of times into both Canada and Mexico. I was on a high school trip with the honor society the first time my sister and I walked across the border into Mexico, found an obscure alley, where we found a shop with the hand crafted leather handbag our mother had always wanted.
We bargained with the shop owner, handed over our money then we skipped back to the group, gloating over our bargain. Our mother carried the handbag until the leather handle wore out. We told the story of our bargain until we wore out everyone’s patience.
A few years ago, my husband and I stayed a few days in Canada. We reveled in the luxury of finding attendants at every gas pump, the extra change we got back with each monetary exchange and the fantastic and the close view we had of the powerful rush of water over Niagara Falls on the Canadian side.
To enter Mexico or Canada one only needs a driver’s license or birth certificate proving citizenship. We never needed a passport until my husband took a business trip to England. He returned determined to show me the world or at least downtown London. He hinted, he planned, he talked, he plotted about that trip. He talked about it so much that I set up an appointment, posed for my passport photo, filled out the required paper work and paid the fee for my own little blue book. I didn’t know when or where I would use it, but ”Watch out world, here I come,” I thought when it arrived in the mail
… until I realized I needed time and money for a couple of graduations, my youngest son’s summer wedding, then my daughter’s summer wedding.
This year it is the middle son’s turn for a summer wedding – his turn to take us to meet his future bride’s parents and family – who just happen to live half way around the world in Indonesia. We have been expecting to take this trip for nearly a year. My son thought once he sent in his application for a fiancé visa, he would have the paper work in hand within a couple months for his former penpal to immigrate to the United States.
Three months later, he called Congressman Ross’s office asking for help through the maze of red tape. Ross’s aide knew the answer, explained the hold-up and pointed him to a website to check for updates on the paperwork’s progress through the approval process.
A couple weeks ago, during one of his late night Internet chats with his Indonesian fiancé, my son let out a whoop of “well praise the Lord!” On the other side of the world, in the middle of the next day, his fiancé rejoiced with him. On the web was the long-awaited approval. His bride could come to America …. as soon as she got approval for a paperwork from her end of the line … she was told that it only takes a month or two.
I hope so. Meanwhile our count down to lift-off has begun. Indonesia here I come, I have my passport ready.
Passport to Indonesia
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