I am currently sleeping on the couch of a bunch of strangers almost 2,200km from home. I flew up here late Monday night on a hope to head home on Friday. The purpose of my trip: to get a certificate of true copy for my passport. In the process of opening our business one office decided that our passports, in all its standard internationally accepted glory, was not official enough of a document. The lady at the desk wanted us to travel to our closest embassy and have it verified. Thankfully my friend had friends who live in the same city as the Canadian embassy, so at least I was provided a free place to crash.
When we went to the embassy yesterday I was enchanted with the simplicity of this office visit. Being Canadian at the Canadian embassy is being treated like you have come home. The staff is friendly and things are handled according to the same logical order that I myself tend to think in. The guy behind the desk was friendly and actually joked around with us a little, in stead of yelling at us like so many other offices have in the process. Our business was completed in under ten minutes (yes that does mean I spent 3 ½ hours on a plane, to do a 10min job). The saddest part was that the Canadian embassy had just sent a representative to our city five days ago, who would have been able to process our information on sight, but we had no idea of his visit. Oh well, this trip is turning in to a mini vacation since we found the import store and bought microwave popcorn and flavored coffee.