Rapid Deceleration Trauma
The title pretty much sums up what’s going on right now. Things have been so crazy, by the time I’d even compose my thoughts about what to write, I’d already be just staring at the wall, comatose, or simply not coherent enough mentally to actually make it happen. I’m not going to go into any real details at this point, just use this small entry as a catch-up for what’s current right now. To help me be brief, here’s a simple list:
- I have left Mexico permanently. I am not a student this semester at UAG nor am I affiliated with the university in any way, officially or unofficially.
- The “privilege” of leaving Mexico involved hundreds of dollars to pay off immigration to have the proper “exit papers” which was needed as part of the university’s more specific need to have almost the janitor sign and stamp my paperwork saying I was leaving campus; in simple terms, I needed to prove I didn’t have outstanding debts, issues, etc. to get the final “OK” to leave from UAG, which also was the official “you don’t owe us anything after all” on paper.
- After weeks of work to get the above, I wasn’t to have a copy of the final document. I socially engineered a malleable secretary into a copy, because the university has been known to suddenly have “mysterious charges” on students’ accounts after they’ve left. Of course, if you want to be sure things are handled properly, you have to come in person…
- It’s official: I still don’t know who it was in administration that felt their Cheerios were pissed in. Because there are no Cheerios, nor can they confirm that there were any, but nevertheless, you can’t have breakfast. I asked three different ways, and was given multiply bullshit answers by the “Directora” of International Student Affairs, saying she didn’t know who it was. But she told her minion to tell me. But she doesn’t know. Riiiiight.
- I eventually did contract a moving company, but didn’t have enough money to do a full international move, contracting only to the Mexican city across the border. We sold about 50% of our “big stuff” hoping to bring the cost down, but as luck would have it, the price came down about 20%. We would have been better off not selling anything than selling stuff at $0.30-$0.40 to the dollar and taking a loss as we did. Except we got some liquid cash to use for the move, which is good. As is typical, there is never good without bad right about now.
- Partly due to convoluted customs laws on both sides my plan of going across to get our stuff in a borrowed flatbed and Yukon to tow our stuff back (unloaded from said moving truck) is not possible. Customs brokers (agencias aduanales) have a mafia-lock on border crossings on both sides, and trying to do something oneself without reams of paperwork serving little purpose is like walking onto the construction site in an episode of “The Sopranos” saying you’re there to do the plumbing. US Customs is transparent and easy to deal with if you know what you’re doing; you just will never get the proper equipment to do it with unless it fits in the back of a single vehicle. I now have to pay somebody money I don’t have (again, like “The Sopranos”)–the whole reason I didn’t choose the int’l move in the first place.
- I have no choice but to shack up at my parents’ place for the indefinite future given my financial position. I am thankful I do have a place to go, but what was livable over Christmas knowing we were only visiting 10-12 days (but grew more annoying as time passed) is now a paralyzing situation to have to deal with in terms of space, organization, and parental unit management. It’s not that it’s so bad–the digs are actually pretty comfy, and again, I’m blessed–it’s just given everything else, something like this is just over-the-top. We’ve gone from a two-story, 3 bedroom house–our own–to 2.5 rooms. With parents. Again.
- Simultaneously fighting every day with border people about our stuff. We’ve been here 5 days and have only barely unpacked the first of the suitcases that were in the car. I finally made the call today to send the stuff from Guadalajara (we were given a week of lag time, thank GOD), so it will be here mid-next week. I can only hope everything is worked out by then for something less costly than what I can make between now and then slapping my antecubital vein at the blood bank.
- I have already applied to another foreign school. US schools were never an option because US committees have to split hairs between the applicants with GPAs 3.85s vs 3.86, of candidates with 3 published articles in Nature, foreign volunteer work, and LORs from the respective chancellors of their university systems for their outstanding contributions to student government; therefore, applications for US programs to start this fall were due between September and November of last year. I’m not even at the point of getting an interview yet, so as far as I’m concerned, I’m at square 2. Maybe.
Now perhaps you can see why titled this post what I did. The juggernaut has (almost) come to full screeching halt, we’re out of Mexico for good, and, on the surface at least, ready for the next thing. However, being thrown off the bull doesn’t simply mean you’re safe; you may be on solid ground but you are by no means out of harms way. To stretch out the last little bit of this metaphor, the roller-coaster ride finally came to an end–not at the “normal” start/end point, but rather at the top of a precarious incline, leaving me to wonder how to climb down safely, if it’s even possible.
I’ll post “part #2″ in this barely-begun series later this weekend, which deals with how my former school continues to screw the pooch on a matter of major international concern. Tune back in soon–I promise this juicy installment has nothing to do with my personal woe and may indicate that karma is indeed a true force of nature. See you then!



