I'd like to start off with a warning that the following post isn't exactly bursting with life or dripping with excitement at my arrival in a new country. This is because I managed to start getting sick during transit over the weekend, and spent most of today lying in bed, sleeping or watching a movie. Nothing serious, mostly just a sore throat and all kinds of fatigue (in part I'm sure due to my extended time "in transit" with little sleep).
I left Cartagena on Saturday afternoon - I haggled my last cab in the country, and checked in at the airport for a quick flight to Bogota. Once there, I would end up wandering the length of the airport lobby more than once in a futile attempt to find Air Canada to check in for my next flight. Eventually I found out their booth wasn't open yet, and after I couple hours waiting around I was able to check my bags and get my ticket for my overnight flight without any hassle. I'd heard some vague rumors (mostly from online travel forums) about multiple bag searches and long custom lines, but aside from an unexpected second security screening at the gate before boarding (complete with a pat down) I got through security and customs without any trouble. The same goes for entering Canada - I'd been anticipating a bit more thorough questioning, but they seemed satisfied with my answers (which, for the most part, were true).
Since I was flying through Toronto, I arranged to have my flight out booked in the evening so I could spend the day with family. During the morning I walked along the shore with my Dad, and in the afternoon spent time downtown with my Mom and Becca. It was really great to get to see them, and probably good that I got to show them pictures from Colombia while I still remember what some of them are. I didn't have much to stock up on, since I figured most things would be as available as they were in Colombia. I did accept some much needed after-bite from my Dad, and replacement shorts brought by my Mom for the ones that had barely survived Colombia (as someone who dislikes shopping for clothes, doing it in a different country had even less appeal). It started raining as I was dropped back off at the airport, and I experienced a brief moment of concern checking in for my Air Jamaica flight. The attendant had made a disparaging remark after taking my passport and typing away at his computer. A couple phone calls later, with me standing off to the side so other customers could be helped, I found it it was merely confusion due to someone with a similar name being on the same flight. A less intense experience than, say, any Uncle of mine who may have his also common name on 'No Fly' lists. Ticket in hand I made my way once again through Pearson Airport, to the same gate I had waited at for Colombia. After some delays, I had a uneventful flight back to the Caribbean Sea.
I spent my first day here walking around New Kingston, exhausted from my late flight and early rise to catch a ride from the son of the family I'm staying with. I have a room in their house that was arranged by my office, and where I'll stay until I'm set up in an apartment. I went to my new office building, intending only to meet the secretary I'd been in communication with. I was quite surprised when Dr. Toro, my boss, walked in and shook my hand. It was great to finally meet him in person, and he introduced me around and showed me my workspace, along with my computer (meaning I don't have to bring in my laptop, and may get assigned a UNESCO e-mail address in order to log in to the system). After agreeing I wouldn't come in the next day so I had time to run errands, house hunt and adjust, I set off to get a mobile phone. Next stop was viewing an apartment that belongs to a friend of a former intern. I always love these examples of how trusting people are - having never met me before, a set of keys had been left for me with security at the building so I could see the fully furnished apartment, since no one was in town to show it to me. I had found out that morning that I need approval from UN Security before I'm allowed to officially rent anything. While I certainly appreciate their dedication to my safety and I welcome the input on good places to live, I'm a bit worried about how long the process takes. I liked the apartment, so hopefully everything will fall into place. The girl I'm renting from used to work for UNEP, and the apartment has 24h security plus alarms on the windows, so I'm fairly confident they'll deem it livable for me.
Tomorrow will be my first day of work here, which I assume will partially be filled with getting me set up and caught up on what's going on in the office. I've already gotten the impression that things operate differently here at the head office with more people, more projects and a much more typical office setting. Why yes, I do have my very own cubicle.
I left Cartagena on Saturday afternoon - I haggled my last cab in the country, and checked in at the airport for a quick flight to Bogota. Once there, I would end up wandering the length of the airport lobby more than once in a futile attempt to find Air Canada to check in for my next flight. Eventually I found out their booth wasn't open yet, and after I couple hours waiting around I was able to check my bags and get my ticket for my overnight flight without any hassle. I'd heard some vague rumors (mostly from online travel forums) about multiple bag searches and long custom lines, but aside from an unexpected second security screening at the gate before boarding (complete with a pat down) I got through security and customs without any trouble. The same goes for entering Canada - I'd been anticipating a bit more thorough questioning, but they seemed satisfied with my answers (which, for the most part, were true).
Since I was flying through Toronto, I arranged to have my flight out booked in the evening so I could spend the day with family. During the morning I walked along the shore with my Dad, and in the afternoon spent time downtown with my Mom and Becca. It was really great to get to see them, and probably good that I got to show them pictures from Colombia while I still remember what some of them are. I didn't have much to stock up on, since I figured most things would be as available as they were in Colombia. I did accept some much needed after-bite from my Dad, and replacement shorts brought by my Mom for the ones that had barely survived Colombia (as someone who dislikes shopping for clothes, doing it in a different country had even less appeal). It started raining as I was dropped back off at the airport, and I experienced a brief moment of concern checking in for my Air Jamaica flight. The attendant had made a disparaging remark after taking my passport and typing away at his computer. A couple phone calls later, with me standing off to the side so other customers could be helped, I found it it was merely confusion due to someone with a similar name being on the same flight. A less intense experience than, say, any Uncle of mine who may have his also common name on 'No Fly' lists. Ticket in hand I made my way once again through Pearson Airport, to the same gate I had waited at for Colombia. After some delays, I had a uneventful flight back to the Caribbean Sea.
I spent my first day here walking around New Kingston, exhausted from my late flight and early rise to catch a ride from the son of the family I'm staying with. I have a room in their house that was arranged by my office, and where I'll stay until I'm set up in an apartment. I went to my new office building, intending only to meet the secretary I'd been in communication with. I was quite surprised when Dr. Toro, my boss, walked in and shook my hand. It was great to finally meet him in person, and he introduced me around and showed me my workspace, along with my computer (meaning I don't have to bring in my laptop, and may get assigned a UNESCO e-mail address in order to log in to the system). After agreeing I wouldn't come in the next day so I had time to run errands, house hunt and adjust, I set off to get a mobile phone. Next stop was viewing an apartment that belongs to a friend of a former intern. I always love these examples of how trusting people are - having never met me before, a set of keys had been left for me with security at the building so I could see the fully furnished apartment, since no one was in town to show it to me. I had found out that morning that I need approval from UN Security before I'm allowed to officially rent anything. While I certainly appreciate their dedication to my safety and I welcome the input on good places to live, I'm a bit worried about how long the process takes. I liked the apartment, so hopefully everything will fall into place. The girl I'm renting from used to work for UNEP, and the apartment has 24h security plus alarms on the windows, so I'm fairly confident they'll deem it livable for me.
Tomorrow will be my first day of work here, which I assume will partially be filled with getting me set up and caught up on what's going on in the office. I've already gotten the impression that things operate differently here at the head office with more people, more projects and a much more typical office setting. Why yes, I do have my very own cubicle.
Sounds like this should be a better professional opportunity than Colombia, so hopefully any frustrations you've had on that front are lessened. And I'm sure your family was thrilled to have a chance to see you, though it still seems ridiculous to me that that was the flight pattern they gave you (while recognizing the reasons behind it).
ReplyDeleteI'd be interested in hearing the story behind the statement, "(which, for the most part, were true)."
Now what fun would going through customs be if we always told the whole truth? Makes it more of an adventure, and I learned from my Father it's better to lie to customs about having sprained you ankle than risking them taking away your slightly illegal walking stick as you re-enter the country.
ReplyDeleteHonestly, my variations from the truth were small and in my mind, insignificant. They asked why I was in Colombia, I said I was a tourist. They asked why I was traveling alone, I said I was visiting two friends who work for the UN. It's too much effort to explain I am an intern, working in Colombia for IOCARIBE but employed by Dalhousie University and funded by the Government of Canada. Sometimes the line is a little blurry about who needs a work permit for what, so I took the easy route.
Considering it worked so well, I can only assume the moral of the story is to lie to customs when it suits your needs and you're confident you can get away with it.
In light of that last sentence, I'm more confident in my choice of sending you a book entitled "Smile While You're Lying" the day before you wrote this comment. *laughs*
ReplyDelete