My visa story: I believe in miracles!

I knew that securing a visa to live for a semester in France was not going to be a cake walk.  However,  I didn’t realize that the process would turn into the most stressful event of my forty-four year old life.

Last winter, when I started planning for our adventure,  I first found an apartment in Aix en Provence through a site called sabaticalhomes.com .  My landlord is Canadian and she sent me her website showing me her apartment. It felt like a magical match so I put down the deposit and in January I bought plane tickets to France.  Committed,  I started looking into the visa process.  It took me a few hours to figure out exactly what I needed to live over there.  We’d be there for more than 3 months but less than a year so I needed a long-stay visa.  I  I found  most of the information on line on the French Visa Website.

To obtain a visa, you have to complete the check-list.  Although the list was pretty long, I was confident that I'd be able to gather all the needed information easily: proof of an apartment, copies of our passports, additional medical insurance for our stay  in France, bank statements showing financial independence, etc.  I needed to apply for the visa on-line and then physically go to San Francisco since is Utah’s assigned consulate.

As it worked out, the Hutchinson summer camping trip was planned for California in July.  Since the visa process normally took about 2 weeks, I thought we had enough time to go the Visa Department in late July and leave for France 21 August.  I don't like to should myself,  but we “should” have gone earlier to San Francisco.  Maybe in May or June, but we didn't.  Hindsight 20/20.

Our visa appointment was set for July 27th at 2pm.

Preparing for our appointment, I gathered all the items on the visa check list and placed them in my “France folder”.  The night before we left for California, I pulled out my folder and reviewed it one last time and realized that I was missing something. Somehow I never noticed that I needed a background check.

I immediately google it and see on someone’s blog,: “The background check is not hard to obtain.  It just takes a few weeks by mail”.  A FEW WEEKS?  I was dying….

I quickly found a Criminal Bureau of Investigation office in Salt Lake City and made the plan to go in the morning before leaving for California.  After a nearly sleepless night, I drove down to Salt Lake City at 8am.  Unsure if I would be able to leave the CBI office with what I needed for my visa, I was a ball of nerves.  It turned out, a background check costs $15 and takes about 5 minutes to pull.

I left all smiles.  Report in hand, I drove back up to Park City to complete a few last things on the checklist before our departure. I took the kids to the local UPS store for passport photos and then swung by Matt’s office to make copies our passports.  A few hours later we drove to California with our passports and the “France folder”.

The following Monday afternoon, we were on a ferry returning from a beautiful adventurous day on the Channel Islands.   I sat on the outside deck of the boat and Sadie came to join me.  She sat on my lap and casually said, “Did you know that you left your Passport on Daddy’s work copier?” 

WHAT???  My stomach dropped.  “How do you know that?" I demanded.

“Daddy just checked his email and his secretary told him.”  A four letter word slipped out of my mouth. 

Panicked, I texted Shelby, a coworker of Matt’s, and she graciously offered to  fed-ex the passport to me in San Francisco.  Pioneer Day,  a Utah-only holiday was the following day, but she would  send it Wednesday so I’d have it for my 2pm Friday Visa appointment. All I needed was an office address to send the passports where someone could sign for it.  My dear friend Chantal came through and Shelby sent it to her office on Market Street in San Francisco.  At about 1pm on Friday,  Matt double parked our car on hectic Market Street and Sadie and I ran into Chantal's office and picked up my passport.  I left smiling.   We were ready for our visa appointment.

The four of us walked into the SF Visa agency at 2:02pm and sat down in the waiting room. We were not alone.  The room was filled with people obtaining visas.  When the person in charged called for those with 1pm appointments and it was 2:30, we knew we were going to be there for awhile.  We didn’t even have our books or a deck of cards!

Finally, finally, finally it was our turn.  For the next two hours, we sat with a woman who went through every document needed for a French long-stay visa. I had everything in my “France folder” so I was feeling good.  They asked us dozens of questions, fingerprinted both Brewster and me and at the end charged us a small fortune for the visas. 

The appointment took forever.   It was nearly 6pm, when we wrapped up.  I kissed our passports, handed them over as the lady assured me that the process usually took about two weeks.

I paid extra so that the passports would be overnighted to Matt’s dad, Poppy, who lives in New Hampshire since were were flying to France from Boston.  At the time, I thought I was clever to buy us 10 extra days in case the visas were delayed. 

As long as we had the visas by August 21st, we were all set.

On August 10th, Brewster, Sadie and I kissed Matt good-bye and flew to Boston.  We spent a week on Cape Cod with my family and then I went to visit my lovely friend Steph in Nantucket while the kids spent a few days with their Poppy in New Hampshire.

About three days into our vacation on the Cape, I texted Poppy to see if he had received our passports.  He had not.  I didn’t think it was a big deal.  We still had over a week before our departure. I went on line to track them.  I then learned that our passports were in Washington DC at the French Consulate. 

I emailed the French Consulate to check in and two days later, I received this response:

Dear Madame,

Our records show that your applications just arrived at our Embassy on the 14th of August. There apparently was a substantial delay with your applications. We will take note of your departure date, but please understand that there are certain stages of the visa processing that we cannot expedite.

Regards, Consulat général de France

UhOh.  It’s now Thursday, August 16th.  I needed them to process our visas STAT and overnight them by Friday in order to have them in time for our departure on Tuesday August 21st.

Fully consumed by this situation, I thought of nothing else.  A few hours later, I received an email that said they were missing documents.  They asked for:

 - Invitation letter redacted by your host in France and also a copy of his/her identity document ( Catherine Stieltjes )

- A parental autorization and a copy of the identity document of the father ( for both childrens)

- Proof of school attendance ( for both childrens)

I rushed to pull it all together and felt severely annoyed that they never mentioned these documents in San Francisco.  Thankfully, my landlady in France responded to my desperate email in just a few moments and sent over a scan of her passport.  In less than 15 minutes after I received the Consulate email, I responded.  I hoped the Consulate had what they needed to process our visas.  But time was ticking. 

I was obsessed.  How was this going to shake out??

The rest of that day was not great.  I was agitated, emotional, and nervous.  Sadie had an earache and felt lousy.  Brewster retreated silently to his room in the Cape and by 12n he was fighting back tears.  “Mom, what are we going to do?”  He too was concerned.

I assured him that we’d likely get our passports in time and if not, we’d change our flights to France and it was no big deal. I had to shift my energy.  It worked and by the afternoon, spirits were a little  higher, but I was still reeling inside.

Right before I went to bed on Thursday, I remembered a powerful story my yoga teacher, Amanda told me. (I love love Amanda.  She married MC Yogi and is traveling the world painting Buddha murals.  Check out  her work on her website 10,000 Buddhas).   Amanda and Nick were traveling to India and there had been a delay with their visas  (the same situation as mine).  Amanda said she was freaking out a couple days before her departure because she didn’t have a passports,  She started chanting to Ganesh to remove all obstacles (That is the superpower of Ganesh!). Inspired,  I pulled out my beautiful Mala beads that my lovely friend Whitney gave me started praying to Ganesh.  I slept with my beads.  (footnote: these powerful mala beads are made by our college friend Logan who makes yogic jewelry.  Check out her website Silver & Sage)

Friday morning, I was up early.  Wearing my mala beads, I paddled out to the middle of our tranquil Cape Cod pond (Long Pond) and sat down on my board.  I closed my eyes and repeated a mantra to Ganesh 108 times: Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha;   I needed a solution, but I also needed peace.

I know that suffering is attachment.  Admittedly, I was attached to going to France on Tuesday, August 21st and it was driving me insane.  I needed to remain flexible, but I also needed my passports.  I finally found the courage to call TAP (Air Portugal) to see how much it  would cost to change our plane ticket in case our passports did not arrive.  News to me, our flights were non cancellable nor changeable.  If we didn’t get on the plane on Tuesday the 21st, we would have to buy new tickets.

I was beyond bummed out and overwhelmed.

I spent  most of Friday morning writing emails to the Consulate with the word URGENT in the subject line. I called the San Francisco Visa department which proved to be useless.  No one knew when our visas would be granted and they said they did not have a phone number to the French Embassy in Washington DC.    By 2pm Friday afternoon, I realized that something had to happen soon or I would be buying three last-minute-one-way plane tickets to France. 

Talking to my sister Mara who is both amazing and solution oriented, we reviewed my limited options.  She asked me, “Did you try calling the Consulate in DC?”  Deflated, I responded,  “I did.  The menu to visas is a recording that says that the only way to inquire about the status of a visa is email them.  There is no one to talk to”.   

“Why don’t you dial a different department at the Consulate and see what happens?”  Mara offered.  I knew she was feeling sad.  My sisters are good like that..they want what I want.  They feel what I feel.  Having two sisters, I am doubly blessed.

“OK, I’ll try.  Nothing to lose.” I said, feeling  hopeless.

I dialed the French Embassy once again in Washington DC.  Instead of choosing the visa selection on the voice mail menu, I picked another number hoping to talk to someone live.   

My wish was granted when a French woman answered.  I launched in quickly with my sob story:  “I know you don’t work in the visa department but I am desperate.  My name is Sara Hutchinson and I am trying to track down my passports before Monday.  I believe they are in Washington DC and I have a flight on Tuesday”.   I continue on and on and on.  I finally paused, she kindly said “Oh, I am so so so sorry.  It’s just so horrible.” She continued to agree with me sympathetically.

I said sincerely , “You sound so nice. I wish YOU could help me.”  

Pause. 

“What is your last name?” She asked to my surprise.  “Hutchinson.  H-U-T-C-H-I-N-S-O-N.” I spelled it out slowly, praying that Ganesh was finally removing an obstacle.  The French madam  asked me to hold and a few minutes later she came back and said, “You are very lucky.  I will transfer you to someone in the visa department”.  A moment later, I was connected to someone who might be able to help me.  YES! 

The man one the other end of the line was not nearly as sympathetic nor as sweet as the French woman.  He was all business.  He sternly asked me for all of our information which I had: passport numbers, visa application numbers, birthdates.  A few moments later he verified that our long-stay visas had been granted that afternoon.   Our passports were scheduled to be sent to San Francisco on Monday by overnight mail.  From there, they’d be sent to us in New Hampshire.

“Wait!  Can I come to DC to pick them up? I’ll come to DC.  Please! ” I begged.  “Will you set the passports aside with my name on them and I will pick them up on Monday?”

“No.” He said.  “That is not my job.  You need to email the embassy for your request.  I don’t know if that is possible.”  Before I we hung up, I asked him what the subject of my email should say.  He suggested, ‘I verified my visas are ready, can I come to DC?”

“OK.  Thank you, thank you.”  I wrote an email with that exact subject line and waited for a response. About an hour later,  I received this email:

Dear Madame,

We will exceptionally allow you to come to the Embassy to pick up your passports. Please come between 9 am and 4:30 pm. 

Regards,  Consulat général de France

Relief!  With Mara’s assistance we booked my travel to DC on Monday. I changed my Nantucket flight, booked an overnight train from Boston-DC to arrive at 7am and then bought a one-way flight back to New Hampshire on Monday afternoon.  Mara insisted that I go to DC Sunday night so I would be at the Embassy on Monday morning when they opened.  I pretty much do what Mara tells me to….

A few minutes before 5pm, I opened my computer to send one more email to the consulate confirming that I would be at the Embassy on Monday.  That is when I saw this:

Madame, 

Your visa was granted today and your passport will be sent back on Monday. We cannot have you come to the Embassy to pick up your passport, as this is against protocol.

Regards, Consulat général de France

I felt sick.  I read the email over and over again.  Who sent this and why?  I knew that I needed to go to Washington DC on Monday and be there when the Embassy opened but now I was worried that I’d be turned away.

I spent the weekend in Nantucket with my dear friend Steph consumed both by doubt and hope She did her best to decompress my stress with a yoga class, a long run and massage.  By Sunday night I was anxious to travel to DC.  I needed to have an answer.  Would we go to France on Tuesday or not?

My 7:30pm flight from Nantucket to Boston was on time when I arrived at the airport but weather was moving in. Nerves once again filled me knowing that my  connection from the Boston airport to the Amtrak station was only an hour.  With any airline delay my travel to DC could be derailed. (no pun intended :)

While I waited for my flight, I searched my email for my Amtrak ticket. I wanted to make sure that I had everything all set in case I had to run to my train when I arrived in Boston. 

I couldn’t find my train ticket anywhere.  I did not have a confirmation email from Amtrak so I called American Express.  They didn’t see a charge so I went to amtrak.com to rebook the ticket. The train was sold out.  I panicked.

It was 7:15pm when I started googling flights leaving Boston after 9:30pm,  Disheartened but not surprised, there were very few options and all of them were expensive.  It occurred to me to check Southwest Airlines and was relieved to see a 10:25pm flight from Boston to Baltimore for under $200. Figuring, I could take a train down to DC early in the morning to make it to the  Embassy by 9am, I bought the ticket. Next  I booked a cheap hotel near BWI and then patiently waited for my Nantucket flight to depart.

The fact that I never bought a train ticket was divine intervention.  Not only was the Nantucket flight 40 minutes delayed but also,  there was a fire that night on the tracks in Trenton, NJ and the Amtrak train I was going to be on was delayed for hours. I would have either missed my train because of the flight delay, or worse, would have been stuck on the train in the middle of the night with no options.

I arrived in gritty Baltimore after midnight and ubered to my hotel.  Right before falling asleep I chanted to Ganesh praying for my passports.  I didn’t sleep well, so it was easy to wake up at 6am to catch the hotel shuttle to the MARC train station. I rode the 7:08am train from BWI to Union station in Washington DC and ubered to the French Embassy.  I arrived a few minutes before 9am.

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I walked through an iron gate to a guard station.  Through bullet proof glass, a French guard said “Do you have an appointment?”

“No.” I replied.  “But I do have an email that says that I can come to the Embassy to pick up my passports today.”

“Do you have a copy of that email?” He asked.

“Yes” I answered, relieved that I had a printed copy .(Thank you Cousin JB for that suggestion!)

He took the email and my photo ID and walked away to make a phone call.

I thought, this is it.   If the guard says no, I am leaving DC without passports. I didn’t see a way I could talk the guard into helping me.   If I am let in, I may be golden. 

Please, please, please, I prayed.

A few minutes later, he came back with a visitor security badge.  Elated, I walked quickly to Building B though the metal detector, a gate, and an another gate.

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I saw the sign for the Visa department and walked in.  The office was empty and I went straight to the window and a man said, .“Are you Sara Hutchinson?”  He handed me three passports and said softly,  “I am so sorry”.

I started crying.  Tears flowed down my face as  I pressed my palms together in Namaste and raised them to my heart center.  “Thank you.” I whispered.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Relief washed over me.  It was over. I was holding my passports and we going to France on Tuesday!  WowWowWow.

One other remarkable thing happened that day.  My father-in-law texted when he heard the news and asked if I could catch an earlier flight back to New Hampshire.  I called American Airlines and said that I was flying out of Dulles at 3pm to Manchester and asked if I had any earlier options.  She looked up my reservation and said, “Did you say Dulles?” 

“Yes” I respond.   

She said, “You are flying out of DCA.”

“Where is DCA?”  I asked.  Clueless. 

She said “Ronald Regan International which is a second Washington DC airport."

"WOW" I said.  "I am glad I called!"

Again, I felt the power of my angels.  Without this phone call, I would have gone to the wrong airport.  That may have broken me.

Looking back, I learned a few lessons:

• • • • When dealing with any visa situation or bureaucracy, leave plenty of time.
      • Remain patient & read the fine print.
      • Pray, chant, believe & don’t give up.
      • Be kind to everyone you talk to as I never know who might be the one to help me.
      • Keep it all in perspective.  Steph reminded me that my passport project wasn’t exactly like waiting for a liver transplant.

True that!