Recently in one of my Open English classes, the topic was about visas and passports. In one of the slides, they talked about bureaucracy. Of course, we all know that the meaning of this word is a lot less amusing than its spelling and pronunciation. In any case, what a delight it was for me to have a Honduran student in my class that day! Honduras definitely puts the “crazy" in “bureaucracy"! Oh wait, there’s no Z…hmm...

In any case, I was blissfully reminded in July of how painless things can sometimes be in Canada. That being said, painkillers aren’t free, and that’s no exception with Canadian bureaucracy. It’s still a pain! Anyways, ICBC (Insurance Corporation of British Columbia, for you non-BCers) surprisingly was very helpful to me granting me a temporary licence over the phone so that I’d be able to drive the moment I arrived on Canadian soil. That was cool, if not flabbergasting.

However, in Honduras it’s a little trickier. To be fair, the Canadian (and BC) government knows who I am etc, whereas the Honduran one can only be wondering why this guy has entered and exited almost 20 times in the last 10 years. Fair question. Now if it isn’t frustrating enough that the Honduran Embassy to Canada with its official website tells you one thing, whereas the lawyer messages you over WhatsApp another thing, it’s the surprises that were more frustrating. Right when you think you’ve got it all, the lawyer is like: "Oh and I need this, and it costs…" Of course it does, it always does. And everything is set in US funds. (I remember my brief trip to Russia with my sister, EVERYTHING, literally everything, was in US dollars but you paid with Russian rubles…they would calculate it by the exchange rate in the moment…and this was BEFORE smartphones. Thank goodness for caps lock since then.

Anyways, it’s funny when in the immigration office they tell you to go up to the third floor to get photocopies. You don’t have a copier? At least it’s not as bad as Belize. One time I arrived there with some friends and the border lady said I had to call my friends to find out their address before we could be let in. “Can I borrow your phone, please?" I said motioning to the one right beside her. “No." So I had to first ILLEGALLY (there’s those caps again) enter the country to find a phone, which was its own debacle, before I could LEGALLY enter. Uh yeah, there’s a case study for the CBSA trainees...

Last week I went with two other sisters to immigration again. On the trip we represented the three North American countries and I began to feel like a dignitary… It helps too that in the immigration office, the nice little spot for foreigners is quicker than the lines for the locals…so it seems. But then those delusions of grandeur come crashing down when you have to go to the bank to pay ANOTHER fee. You ‘sign in’ and get your ticket. The Mexican made the mistake of commenting how long it was taking to the gentleman next to her who got worked into quite a tizzy about it! Haha! I guess he didn’t realize that different letters with the numbers represent different kinds of transactions and that perhaps fewer are qualified to handle his than the others.

Anyways, no matter what country you’re in, there’s pros and cons, ups and downs.

So in the congregation recently we’ve been trying to get our territories in order. We are trying to do more “census" or “search" work. We know many of the deaf already here, but when we can go house to house to find them, the results are better. So lately we’ve also been trying to get to some of the outlying areas. We did one such trip last Thursday which was also the national holiday, their independence day, which I think it is for a few latin countries. We found 3 deaf, and so now here’s hoping we have time to go back and help them learn from the Bible! Probably won’t be me and Shelagh, but some others from the congregation who actually met them.

Ok, I better get going. I work tonight, and since it’s the rainy season, sometimes it rains hard in the afternoons and I get bogged down in that liquid…bureaucracy.