So in order for me to enter the wonderful land of France, I need to have a "visa de long séjour", or "long-stay visitor visa". Anyone planning on staying in France for more than 90 days needs one. And if you're a resident of NJ, you need to apply in person in the French Consulate of the French Embassy in NYC. No applying via phone or mail. I had hoped to be able to take care of the thing in one visit, because I worked hard on getting all my paperwork together. The moment I entered the building, however, it was apparent that this particular Consulate was strict and does not make any exceptions to their requirements. So if you were missing just one of the required papers, or if the document you had didn't suit entirely what the Consulate is looking for, you had to come back another day and stand in line again. And those lines can be long. There were a lot of applicants last Wednesday who were not totally prepared.
Sure enough, I became one of those applicants. I was missing a letter that had to show I have medical coverage through my employer (Avant Ministries). Although this fact was stated in another letter Avant had written for me, they wanted a separate document confirming this. Although my exchange with the monsieur who was handling my request went well (most of our conversation took place in French), he couldn't accept my application as complete and told me that I had to come back on Friday to submit that letter if my paperwork was going to be mailed to France by next week. Immediately after walking out the door of the Consulate, I called Avant's home office to ask for a new letter. Thankfully, they were so patient and flexible with me, I was able to get the "medical coverage" letter I needed the next day via FedEx.
Because of my having to return to the Consulate in a few days, I spared myself the trouble of driving back and forth between south Jersey and the City by staying in Brooklyn with my sister a bit longer than planned. Staying for that one extra day gave me a bigger taste of what living and commuting in a big city is like. I realized that living in the comfortable suburb of Toms River, at Casa de Monta where all my needs are met, has made me soft. I could feel the stress of being dependent upon public transportation: rushing to catch a train, getting squeezed into a train, hearing people's IPod music cranked up on the train, freezing as you walk to the station, having to climb steep and at times long staircases to get out of the station. And then my sister's apartment: climbing stairs to get to it, hearing cars honking at each other while I'm sleeping, buses kneeling, loud garbage trucks stopping...in the middle of the night. And then just being around so many more people in one square mile. I understand now why my sister wants to get out of Brooklyn. It's hip and romantic for a while, but it can take a toll on you. She is more of the city person, I'm more of a country girl. As she is moving out of a city and back to the suburbs, I'm moving into one in less than two months. But I know that God, through the experiences of my unplanned extended stay was preparing me for life in the ultimate city, the city of Paris.
